Chapter 12
There Are Worse Things Than Being on Trial For My Life
The blackness faded as I opened my eyes slowly. The world slowly came into focus. I looked around the cell I was confined in. Something was wrong. Something was out of place. Then, it came to me. Everything was black and white. I had shifted to wolf form in my sleep. I shed my wolf form for true form, feeling my body extend as I emotionally triggered the transformation. My senses became sharper and integrated themselves, making the environment around me more complete. A scent floated into the cell. I looked at the door, where the Guildmaster stood with one of the marshals that had been standing guard. The Guildmaster was in human form, strange for the Manor, and was dressed in a business suit, carrying a briefcase.
“Hello Marcus,” he said, guardedly, “I assumed that I was one of the three that you would want to see.” By the rules of rhiazen, I was allowed to see three and only three lycanthropes before going to see the lord or lady. I could talk to them as many times as I wanted, but only those three. The only other lycanthropes that could talk to me were the lord or lady (in this case it would be the Lady-Apparent), the marshals guarding me, and the lycanthrope who would speak for the accuser, which was usually the accuser himself. I nodded to the marshal beside the Guildmaster. He slid the door open to allow the Guildmaster inside. Afterwards, he slid the door shut and walked back to his position by the staircase. I noticed that the two of them had leaned their rifles on the wall, instead of carrying them. They had relaxed their guard. I placed it on memory, in case I needed it later. One of the things they had drilled into me during my training as a hunter was that information was important, because you never knew when you might need it later. I filed that thought away as the Guildmaster sat down in front of me.
“Mark, are you alright?” he asked in a concerned tone. It was amplified by his using a less formal version of my name. In all of the time that I had known him, he had never called me Mark. Normally, it would have concerned me to almost terror, but with everything else that was happening, I just didn’t have time to react to it.
“Yeah, just a little stiff from last night’s fun and games, and my side still hurts like hell.” I stretched out my arms, trying to work out the kinks in the joints and muscles, which my side burned in complaint. The wolfsbane was working, but slowly. Smythe’s stab wound would heal in about twelve hours if past experience counted for anything. The Guildmaster didn’t seem to appreciate my attempt at levity.
“We heard the ‘Knightfall.’ What the hell happened? I heard that you had a hand in the lord’s death, and that the Knights are going to also accuse you of Stephen’s death as well.” I carefully explained, in great detail, exactly what happened during the raid. The Guildmaster sat absolutely quiet as I related the part of Smythe attacking me. As I led up to the part where I had called “Knightfall,” the codeword for betrayal by the Knights, the Guildmaster stopped me with a raised hand.
“We heard that you had surrendered to the Knights. I am impressed by your quick thinking. Matric says that he will do everything he can for your defense.” I made a grimace at that. The Guildmaster’s face grew grim. “I know how you feel about him, but Matric is well connected in the Manor and even with the shaman. He is also aware that you called ‘Knightfall,’ and is worried about the implications for us. He will do his best, and put away any differences that the two of you have had, as long as you reciprocate.” I nodded to this. Much to my dismay, if anyone could help me now, it would be Matric.
“I have another problem that I need your help with,” he said. He opened his briefcase. I heard the M16s come up off the wall and the safeties snap off. A moment later, the marshals snapped them back on when it became apparent that the Guildmaster had no weapons inside his briefcase. I smiled briefly, then read the papers he had given me. The papers were transcripts of radio reports from last night, as well as some written contact reports by some of the hit packs.
“Two packs and four lone wolves never returned last night. All of them did their jobs, but something happened after they had all reported back their completed status. All of the jobs were clustered in the Forest Hills area. One of the lone wolves, Samson, reported seeing one of the packs engaged in a firefight with an unknown enemy force. He went to join them, and they all disappeared.” I followed the paper trail as the Guildmaster laid out the facts. Something was gnawing at me. There was a common factor with all of these that made me worry. I knew Samson, and he was too good a hunter to just disappear. The vampires had their hands full last night, so I doubted their involvement. The human magic-wielders could have made our hunters vanish, but they would not have involved themselves in a firefight. It was too petty in their arrogant thinking. My mind came up with two possibilities. One was on the outside chance of being probable. The other one however - it did fit all of the evidence, but I was really hoping that I was wrong.
“None of them contacted us after they had finished their jobs, with the exception of Samson, and we never heard from him once he reported the firefight,” I summarized. The Guildmaster nodded with a worried expression. My gut twisted. “You’re thinking what I am thinking, aren’t you?”
“Yes, but there is not enough evidence to bring it to the Lady-Apparent. If I bring it to her now, it will look like I’m doing it to free you, and she may dismiss it out of hand. I have Christian’s pack and Samuel investigating now. You will not speak of it until I have enough evidence. However, since you are one of the few lycanthropes in this county who has had to deal with this threat before, I wanted you to confirm it.” I nodded to him to let him know that I would comply. I hoped Hangman didn’t find what I thought it was. He was too young to deal with it without a lot of backup, say most of the Guild’s best hunters, and most of the armory’s heavy weapons.
He took some clothing out of his briefcase and handed them to me. I unfolded them carefully, more to show the marshals there were no weapons concealed in the folds than anything else. Jeans, t-shirt, and the necessary undergarments – it was almost my unofficial uniform. I slipped them on as the Guildmaster walked out of the cell. “Is there anything else you need for right now?” he asked.
“Send Nick.”
I fell asleep again, hoping to regain my strength. I was awakened by a sharp jab in my side. The wound had healed up nicely, but it was still a little more tender than I would have liked, and the second jab really annoyed me. I opened my eyes to slits and saw one of the guards poking me in the side with the muzzle of his rifle. I couldn’t see the face of the lycanthrope standing beside him, but the relaxed stance of whomever it was made me think it wasn’t the other guard. I really wasn’t happy at being awakened so rudely. The barrel lunged again at my side. I grabbed the barrel and yanked. The guard, caught unaware by the move, was pulled into the bars. He slumped down to the concrete floor, bleeding from several gashes from the silver barbs, and the rifle clattered to the ground. I scooped up the weapon and released the magazine. A small, feminine chuckle focused my attention on my visitor.
The Lady-Apparent was standing in human form, wearing a simple but elegantly-cut forest green dress. Her long auburn hair was tied into a single, long braid and draped down one shoulder. Her bright green eyes flashed with appeared to be amusement. I tossed the unloaded rifle to the ground and stood to face her. I hadn’t seen her since the Rite of Discovery, and had forgotten how beautiful she was. I pushed that thought away, concentrating on why she was visiting me here. After all, this was the lycanthrope that would probably order my execution.
“Impressive,” she said, a warm tone to her voice, “You are as dangerous as I was warned.” She took a half-step back from the bars. She looked at me for a moment, apparently studying me. I felt uncomfortable, with my instincts roaring danger, but other parts of my mind were almost enjoying the attention. I wasn’t sure why, and it was unnerving me. I was having too many conflicting feelings running through me. I tried to push all of it to the back of my mind and concentrate on exactly why the Lady-Apparent was visiting me. That’s when I noticed that there were no Red Knights escorting her. Every time that I had met with a member of the aristocracy, the Knights were always hovering around. Perhaps around the security of the Manor, the Knights relaxed their presence, but that theory just went against everything that I knew about the Knights. What was the Lady-Apparent doing down in the dungeons without her bodyguards and in the presence of a lycanthrope she had already said was “dangerous.” I decided that it was time to cut to the chase. I didn’t really have the patience to dance around the courtesies.
“May I ask what you are doing here, milady?” I asked quietly, and hopefully, with a neutral tone. I didn’t want any of the raging conflict within me leaking out into the open. My words must have come out harsher than I had wanted because the other guard at the end of the hall clenched his teeth at my tone, but a wave of the hand from the Lady-Apparent calmed him. She motioned to the inert form of the guard that I had incapacitated, and ordered for the guard to leave the two of us alone. The guard blinked, completely taken surprise by the order. He quickly recovered, picked up his unconscious partner, and hurried out of the dungeon. I sat very still as the Lady-Apparent began pacing in front of my cell. She seemed almost pensive, but I couldn’t understand what would cause such caution from her. Everything that I had seen from her had led me to believe that she was an extremely strong and confident lycanthrope.
“I’ve come to see the hunter that has caused the deaths of both my father and my brother,” she answered, turning to face me. Her tone was flat, almost without emotion, but her eyes betrayed a raging torrent of emotions within her. I didn’t envy her one bit. She had lost her father and older brother within six months of each other, and now she was thrust into leading a county at war. Something deep inside me felt – torn? – for the enormous burden she must have been carrying.
“I didn’t kill them milady,” I answered, and I knew I was having a hard time controlling my temper. I was a Badmoon, an outcast amongst the lycanthrope society, and yet, I served that society faithfully and more diligently than most of the accepted members. I had protected those accepted members from dangers they had never even been aware of. I had put my life on the line more times than I could remember. Smythe’s allegations attacked my honor as a hunter – the one thing that gave me any sort of real identity within the lycanthrope society.
“You didn’t prevent them from being killed,” the Lady-Apparent answered, “Your accusers are saying that twice isn’t coincidence. It’s conspiracy.” An unusual rage filled me. I know that I have a nasty chip on my shoulder about my treatment as a Badmoon. I deal with it by channeling that anger into my work because I always felt my success was the best revenge against those who hated me just because of my origin. Something about having the Lady-Apparent accuse me of such a serious crime made my blood boil with righteous rage.
“Fuck them,” I growled, and she seemed to be taken aback by my blunt profanity, “I thought your grandfather was a damned fool of a lord, but your father was nothing like him. The Guild loved and respected your father, because he let us redeem our professionalism and honor. The idea of one of us having anything to do with his murder is beyond the pale, milady. As for your brother, he made a rash mistake. He paid for it.” I bit down on my tongue before I could speak further. My anger was getting the best of me, and I could tell by her eyes she wasn’t expecting it.
“Then why are the Knights accusing you?” she asked. She seemed truly confused. She seemed torn between the idea that the Knights could truly believe something that she wasn’t convinced was true. “Why would Smythe think that you need to be killed?”
“I don’t know,” I answered, “Part of me wants to think it’s because I’m a Badmoon, but even that doesn’t seem to fit what has been going on. It may have been related to the murder of your father, but I don’t know for sure. I have enough reason to believe that someone powerful ordered his murder. The assassin was a lycanthrope, and he must have been a hunter.” Her eyes widened as I spoke. None of this had been told to her. “I’m sorry milady, but it’s the only theory that fits the evidence we have. The assassin was just too good to be anything but a hunter. He was just too damned good.”
“Better than you?” the Lady-Apparent asked, with a lilt to her tone that had me completely baffled, “From your reputation, I didn’t think that was possible.” She gave me a look that completely unnerved me. My mind just went blank as those green eyes bore into mine. My reprieve came from behind her.
“Trust me milady, that hunter is as dangerous as he is reputed. And much more,” came a deep voice from behind. Nicky emerged from the staircase. He was in true form, a jumpsuit stretching itself to hold his huge form. He had the rifle of the other guard slung on his shoulder. “Ranger is quite possibly the best hunter your county has.”
“A friend of yours?” the Lady-Apparent asked me with a strange look on her face. Was it betrayal? I nodded slowly. “Well then, I’ll take my leave of you.” With that, she glided across the floor in regal fashion and left the dungeon. Nick unslung the rifle from his shoulder, and leaned it on the wall. He shed his true form for human as he walked over to where I was. The tight jumpsuit now sagged off his much smaller human body. His face was its normal blank, but his eyes were curious.
“What was she doing here?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion
“Haven’t a fucking clue,” I answered, as I picked up the M16 and inserted the magazine. I passed the rifle butt first to Nicky. “First she has the guards leave, then she accuses me of being behind the deaths of her father and brother, then asks me why the Knights are accusing me? There was something about it that seemed very scattered. Fuck me, I don’t know. All I know is it made me very uncomfortable.” Nicky looked back to the staircase for a moment.
“It doesn’t make sense,” he said, with a hint of frustration in his voice, “She called the Guildmaster first thing this morning for your dossier. Then, she shows up here. Do you think she believes you or Smythe?” From Nick’s tone there was more to that question, but I couldn’t decipher my friend at the moment.
“I don’t know,” I answered, “I don’t think she knows. When I told her my suspicions, it looked like that it was the first time she had heard any of that. Speaking of which, have you found out anything more on our little mystery?” I asked, sitting down on the mat that served as my bed. Nothing like open war in your county to interfere with an important investigation.
“No, but I have Hangman searching around today,” Nick answered, “The leeches and their ghouls have disappeared after the raid on the Hall, which has been burned to the ground. The Guildmaster thinks that they are regrouping, and I concur. The Knights are claiming victory, but most of the packs seem to consider a pyrrhic one at best. Still, all of the packs and the Guild have more or less stood down until the Rites are completed, and you are tried, of course. Hangman and I decided it might be a good time to start looking around. I have him talking around to see what information he can dig up on the lords of the counties on that map. Particularly if they have access to a hunter that isn’t with the Guild.”
“When’s the Rite of the Dead?” The way the Spiritmaster had been operating over the past few months made me ask. I wouldn’t be surprised if they had performed it while I had been locked up.
“Strange thing about that. The Spiritmaster wants to perform the Rite after the Lady-Apparent deals with you. There was a small outrage over that, but according to Yven, the Spiritmaster’s deputy, the Order of Spirits feels that the spirit of Jason Vollen will rest better when his murderer is dealt with. The pack leaders seemed to have accepted that, although the Guildmaster is raising hell. Very careful not to outright accuse the Knights of betrayal, but he’s making the packs nervous. The rumor going around the packs is that the Guildmaster is looking to puppet-master the Lady-Apparent.” Usually the Guildmaster was a very deliberate and cautious individual. He had me to do the impulsive and insane things. If he was acting this boldly, something was happening that I couldn’t see.
“I didn’t kill him,” I protested to Nicky.
“I know. There are enough witnesses to confirm that it was Silanti who actually did the killing. However, the Knights, who have chosen Smythe to lead them now since their old leader was killed in the raid on the Hall, contend that your inability to kill either of the assassins of the lords proves that you are in league with the leeches. They still think it was a lycanthrope hired by the TCV who killed Stephen Vollen.”
“What do you think?” I asked, my mind comprehending what was happening to me. Nicky looked at me, almost like he was reading my mind.
“I think you’re being fucked royally. Someone had Stephen Vollen taken down, and we know it was another lord or lady. I still haven’t figured out who, but that’s becoming less and less important in the short run. Smythe stopped you from killing Silanti before Silanti blew Jason Vollen’s brains out, and now he is accusing you of the failure. Moreover, none of his Knights that were with you are going to say anything on your behalf. I’d say you are about to be crucified for nothing and the agenda of whoever had Stephen killed will be accomplished, in as much as this county will be out of whatever political game is being played. I wouldn’t be surprised if it had something to do with the war council that will have to convene in Tallahassee. In addition, Silanti is still out there, but the aristocracy is failing to locate and exterminate him and his remaining followers.” He paused after his summary. There was something else, but the Guildmaster had told me not to say anything until he had proof, and I wasn’t going to defy him, even to Nicky.
“What’s the Order doing?” I asked.
“Calling for your head on a platter and consoling the Lady-Apparent. According to Matric, though, she hasn’t talked much to the Spiritmaster. In fact, she has been doing a lot of research into the Guild and into some of the individuals, including you.” He tilted his head as he thought about what he was telling me. “I wonder if she is going to try and micro-manage us?” I grimaced at that thought. The first Lord Vollen, Stephen’s father, had tried that and nearly caused the hunters’ downfall in Hillsborough. Outsiders rarely understand how we do things, and are usually better off not knowing. Nick cleared his throat and gave me an apprehensive look.
“Listen, Hangman and I will be there for your hearing. We are going to bring all the data that we have on this conspiracy. Maybe it will help you. If not, do you want us…?” He let the question trail off. I knew what he was offering. He and Hangman would break me out of the Manor before the Knights had a chance to kill me if I asked. However, we would be pariahs where ever we went, and more likely hunted by every Guild chapter in Florida, including the State Guild. I shook my head no. I would have to die, and the Guild would have to avenge me. With an unhappy resignation in his eyes, Nicky walked back up the staircase and never looked back. There was a calm stillness in the air. My life was at its end, so I had better go out with a bang. For some reason, a picture of the Lady-Apparent formed in my mind. I pushed it back as I began to plan the end of my life. So many details.
The Manor was full of lycanthropes. The pack leaders had brought as many members of their packs as they could. Many couldn’t attend since there still was a war going on, even if we couldn’t find the remaining vampires. The leeches had done a very good job of going to ground in the wake of the attack on the Hall. All of the lycanthropes were dressed in formal black robes. At the oaken podium stood the Lady- Apparent, Elizabeth Vollen. The Spiritmaster stood in his place with the hierarchy of the Order. The shaman looked unnervingly serene. Matric, Nick, and Hangman stood with the Guildmaster at the left hand of the podium. I had expected to see Sneller and Deadeye, but it didn’t surprise me that they weren’t there. Every hunter was out searching for the remaining vampires, and Sneller and Deadeye would need to coordinate the search. Silanti and Razor had escaped from the Hall, and the Guildmaster wouldn’t be satisfied until he had their heads in his possession. I was led to the throne by a pair of serious-looking Red Knights who had refused to speak with me as we walked up the staircase from the dungeon and into the Manor. Like the rest of the lycanthrope, I stood in true form, but instead of the black robes I would have normally worn, I was forced to wear the white robes of the prisoner. White was the color of weakness and dishonor.
The room went deathly silent as I entered. Most of the lycanthropes that crowded the Manor gave me hateful glares. I ignored them the best that I could, focusing instead on the friendly and sympathetic faces of Hangman and Nick. Matric looked uneasy, like he was a rat on a sinking ship. That made me feel a little better, but the realization was, that unless some form of miracle occurred, I was going to be executed by the end of the night. The guards, fortunately, had honored some of my requests, because they knew that I was a condemned lycanthrope, even though I was just reaching my “trial.” This included the small radio that patched me into their guard frequency – just in case Nick had planned something against my wishes – and one of my small silver knives. They assumed the knife was so that I could kill myself rather than let Smythe do it. It was one of the many misconceptions that the general lycanthrope populace held about hunters. We didn’t practice honorable suicide. It just loses the Guild a trained operative. Still, it added to our mystique, so we didn’t really disabuse the rest of lycanthrope society about it. Since I was going to die, I was going to make sure that I took Smythe with me. He was a fucking traitor, and I was going to be damned if he walked out of this alive.
I walked down the middle of the Manor, stopping about ten feet before the black square of the Vollens. Robert and Sarah Vollen, the two young children looked at me with a murderous gleam in their eyes. They weren’t alone, as most of the Knights looked at me the same way. The Lady-Apparent might have doubts of my complicity, but her surviving siblings had none. Smythe looked smug from his post at the right hand of the podium. I grinned back at him as my hand brushed against the silver knife concealed at my side.
Rhiazen was a rite that had developed in the early days of our society. Essentially, it was bringing a problem between pack member and the pack leader to the lord. However, it evolved to mean that anyone could claim rhiazen and be granted a hearing in front of the lord. However, there were some problems with the rite. One, the lord set the terms of the hearing, meaning the defense may not get a chance to fairly present its side, or even present it at all if the lord feels that the facts are conclusive. The second problem is that, in order to avoid giving the lord a long stream of civil disputes to preside over, the only penalty allowed is death. Even if the crime was vandalism, the guilty must receive the death penalty. It sounds harsh, but it was supposed to be. The aristocracy was there to preside over lycanthrope matters, not the silly civil matters that occurred as we hid amongst the humans. As I’ve said before, the lycanthropes live in a brutal and unforgiving world.
I took my place in front of the throne, and waited as the Lady-Apparent looked down at me. Something about her gaze disturbed me. I waited patiently for her to set the terms for the rhiazen. Essentially, she would let the pack leaders know how much evidence and how much testimony she would allow before she made her decision. There were no hard and fast rules, each rhiazen was unique, and there was no concept of precedent in the lycanthrope society. We trusted in our aristocracy to deal justly with us. There were remedies if the aristocracy failed that trust, but those weren’t things I wanted to contemplate at the moment.
“The terms for rhiazen will be as follows,” the Lady-Apparent began, “First the Red Knights will tell of us the death of Lords Vollen and the provide evidence as to how Marcus Phoenix Badmoon is responsible. Badmoon, or one who will speak for him, will have the time to defend him. I will hear from Badmoon before I make my decision.” There was some murmur in the crowd. The Lady-Apparent had given me very lenient terms, certainly more lenient than some lords would have given under the circumstances. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Matric smiling. Nick and Hangman still looked solemn. They knew better. The Lady-Apparent would not be able to leave me alive and still control the packs. She might allow me time to present my side, just to get out what I told her before into the public arena, but that was it. For some reason, a feeling of gratitude welled up inside of me.
A Red Knight came forward and stood about ten feet to my right. “I am known as David Long-Knife. I am honored to present the story for the Red Knights. This one, this Badmoon is the lycanthrope most responsible for the death of the Second Lord Vollen. He was there that night, and could have stopped the lord’s death, but he didn’t…” He continued to throw venom my way, twisting the truth beyond all recognition. It was a diatribe designed to provoke me into fatal action. It might have worked, but something else had my attention. I had been half-listening on the frequency that the guards were using. It was an old habit that I had never tried to break. The group at the front gate had dropped off the radio net about five minutes before, and now the contingent that went out to check them had just failed to report in. The Knights at the front door were discussing the problem over the radio.
“Roof One, this is Guard One,” the leader of the guards at the front door called to the leader of the Knights manning the half-floor on the top of the Manor, “I’m going to tighten things here and move Door One and his boys up the driveway. I don’t think it was leeches, but there is no good reason for them to drop off the net like that.”
“Confirm Guard One,” answered Roof One, “Do you want me to send down some people?” There was a pause, then a silence. I looked over to Smythe, who should have also been monitoring the action on the security net. He was paying attention to Long-Knife, watching as his plan for my death unfolded.
“Door One,” called Roof One, “Where the hell is Guard One?” There came no answer. Something had taken out everything in front of the Manor. I checked the two guards at the back of the Manor, who had tossed aside their deskunas, and unslung the sub-machine guns they had concealed under their black robes. Smythe was hailed over the net by Roof One, but he was too busy listening to Long-Knife. Long-Knife, who also had the radio in his ear stopped in mid-sentence. The Lady-Apparent looked down at him, but he and I were trading looks that were asking the same question. What the hell was going on?
“I hope that there is a good reason that the two of you are looking at each other and holding up the rhiazen,” the Lady-Apparent said from her podium, obviously annoyed at the two of us. I motioned for Long- Knife to tell her, since Smythe obviously wasn’t able to do it. As he began talking to the Lady-Apparent, I turned to Nicky and Hangman.
“Gun,” I requested in a calm voice. A holstered pistol and spare magazine holder sailed through the air to my waiting hands. Then everything went to hell. First, all the Knights drew their weapons on me, and the Lady-Apparent was surrounded by a ball of translucent blue energy. Two shaman began projecting their forces on me. However, their powers never reached me. They stopped a good five feet before stopping, as if they were hitting some invisible barrier in front of me. In any other time, I would have stopped to reason out why, but there was no time. I could see Smythe leading the Lady-Apparent, still surrounded in energy, into the coronation room, with the Spiritmaster and a large following of his shaman in tow. Red Knights in black robes and Steyr TMPs stood in front of the door. The Guild members all had their pistols out. I wrapped the holster straps around my bare thigh and pulled the pistol out, smiling at the black gun. It was my Heckler & Koch USP Tactical. I glanced at Nicky, who just gave me a knowing smile. Maybe he thought I would change my mind, but for whatever the reason, the black gun was a comforting weight in my hand. Out of long-ingrained habit, I ejected the magazine. Full of Silver Shoks. I pulled back the slide and heard the comforting sound of the first round being chambered. Armed, I braced as we awaited the force that was sieging our Manor.
The Manor room shook as a low boom rocked through. The massive entrance doors of the Manor were thrown into the room with a thunderous roar. The two Knights never had a chance to get out of the way. The pack leaders screamed at their warriors, each trying to get their forces into position. The Guildmaster didn’t bother. He knew that his hunters would already know what to do. A cloud of dark gray smoke and dust obscured the entrance to the Manor. I couldn’t see who was attacking us. Anxiety and fear fell away as the prospect of action made my body dump all of its adrenaline into me. I could feel as my body prepared itself for battle. With deliberate action, I raised my pistol and braced for the attack. Then, I heard the opposition cry over the din of the Manor. “FIRST SPEAR ATTACK! SECOND SPEAR FOLLOW! SECOND SHIELD HOLD!“
Ancestors, I swore to myself, Fucking witch-hunters. There are witch-hunters in the Manor. The anxiety swarmed back through me as the cloud in the front of the Manor dispersed with an almost dramatic speed. I glanced back at the Guildmaster, who returned my fearful look with one that confirmed my fears. I quickly turned my attention on the intruders. This was going to be no fun at all. Humans in dark clothing and skull masks, armed with an uneven mixture of pistols, shotguns, and rifles came pouring into the Manor. The pack leaders screamed battle cries and threw their packs against the invaders. I wanted to scream at them to stop and just hold their ground. The packs were unarmed except for their preternatural strength and the sharp claws on their hands. They didn’t understand what they were facing. They were taught about witch-hunters, but the pack warriors didn’t understand the deadly truths of the witch-hunters. The witch-hunters were invulnerable to physical attacks by our kind. You could knock them around all day with punches and kicks – even hit them across the room with the preternatural strength of a lycanthrope in true form -, but they would still get back up and attack you with that nasty single-mindedness of purpose. The damned humans were also invulnerable to the magicks of the shaman. The witch-hunters were only vulnerable to edged weapons and bullets, and they cheated by using Kevlar vests. They also were as trained as hunters in unarmed combat and were more zealous than any ghoul. The first packs into the fray were torn apart as they tried to use their claws on the witch-hunters.
I checked my side. Nicky was standing beside me with his giant Smith in one hand, and a Desert Eagle .50 in his other. Nicky was one of the few pistoleers I knew of that could actually do the two-handed pistol fighting with something approaching effectiveness. I didn’t bother. Hangman, Kimber .45 in hand, was standing near Matric, who also had his Beretta out, and the Guildmaster, who stood waiting for the attack with his Colt .45. I threw off my prisoner robes and waited for the melee to come into our range.
The first group of witch-hunters had made it past the slaughtering of the packs and came to our part of the Manor. The shamans, on the other side of the room, were desperately using their magicks, finding out the hard way about the witch-hunters invulnerability. Bright beams of energy just faded before they could hit the zealous humans. One of the shaman quickly figured out what was happening, and began mystically picking up strew items and hurling them at the witch-hunters. My prejudices aside, the shaman weren’t all fucking stupid or useless. One of the witch-hunters coming after the hunters pointed a rifle at me. I dropped him quickly with a single shot to the head. I could hear the roar of the Desert Eagle as Nicky rapidly fired the big gun into a small tangle of witch-hunters. They all fell down from the hits of the big auto pistol, but not all of them were dead. I leapt over Nicky, drawing the small silver knife as I came down. Covering myself with sporadic gunfire, I finished the downed witch-hunters with savage slashes. Another came out of a blind spot and caught me with a punch to the stomach, winding me.
He loomed over me, as I was busy scampering for breath. The witch-hunter’s head exploded into a red cloud. Long-Knife, pistol in hand, stepped over the fallen body and helped me up. The Red Knight’s face held no traces of suspicion or hatred. Fighting with a hated common enemy tended to do that.
“You okay?” he asked. Wordlessly, I put a double- tap into the witch-hunter coming up behind him with a wicked looking silver knife. As Long-Knife turned to see what I was firing at, he seemed satisfied with that answer and braced for the next melee. I did a quick scan and saw that the two of us were far too forward. We needed to get back to the others. I pulled on his robe sleeve and pointed. He just nodded before killing a witch-hunter with a shotgun.
The two of us fought our way back to the Guildmaster and the other hunters. As soon as we came into view, the Guildmaster tossed me a TMP from a fallen Knight. Nick also held one.
“You two, cut us a path to that section over there.” I looked to where he was pointing, and saw a blank space of wall. Normally, I would have at least given the Guildmaster a questioning look. During the furious fighting, I didn’t even bother. I found a small opening in the melee and widened it with a pair of bursts. As the bodies fell, our small group dashed into the thick of the fighting. We slowly crossed the open floor of the Manor. It was strewn with lycanthrope and witch-hunter bodies. The white marble tile was slightly slick with blood and gore. I kept myself from noticing by killing as many witch- hunters as I could. Nicky, who was behind me, was placing short bursts all on my flanks. A witch-hunter fired a burst at us, throwing me to the floor as I dodged. Long-Knife, however, caught the burst full in the chest. He crumpled down, almost cut in half by the bullets. I put a small burst into the witch-hunter’s head, watching as it made a satisfactory explosion. I scampered up off the floor, emptying the TMP into a group of witch-hunters that had noticed our little group. I threw the empty machine pistol into the head of another witch-hunter, knocking the bastard of its feet. As soon as the sub-machine gun left my hands, I instinctively drew my USP and flicked off the safety.
I took the point and resumed our way to the section of wall that the Guildmaster had pointed out. The witch-hunters that came at us were quickly killed. Most of the witch-hunters were busy swarming the dwindling packs. The warriors had figured out that they weren’t having any effect with their claws and had picked up guns from the dead witch-hunters. Even with the weapons, the warriors were having a hard time of it. Our group got to the wall, covering the Guildmaster as he touched one of the bricks. A small door opened in the wall. I saw a dark hallway beyond the concealed door.
“We’re fucking running?” Hangman asked incredulously. He was reloading his Kimber as he was searching for more targets. Hangman had held up his end of the firefight, but he couldn’t see exactly how desperate our situation actually was.
“We are running low on ammo, and Marcus has already taken a gunshot wound,” said the Guildmaster. I looked down, and saw a small hole in my leg that was leaking blood. “This door leads back to the Manor’s armory, where we can get some heavier weapons. I already called the Guild, and all the hunters in Hillsborough are coming. The first group should be here in about five minutes. We, however, need to get armed and patched.” He turned to me. “Marcus, are you alright?”
“Yeah,” I answered, feeling the pain of the wound for the first time, “I’ll live.” My leg was starting to throb as the pain began to overcome the pain suppression of the adrenaline. I thought my leg wasn’t moving as fast as it should, but I didn’t have time to figure out what had happened. I was too busy killing witch-hunters.
“Good. Nicholas lead off. Samuel, then Dennis. Marcus, you and I will bring up the rear. I want you to cover me as I shut the door behind us.” I nodded and hit the magazine release on my pistol. I looked down at the clip in my hand and grimaced. Two rounds left, plus the one in the chamber. I would have to place my shots carefully. Nicky, Hangman, and Matric scampered down the darkened corridor. I turned out to the Manor. The Guildmaster went into the corridor. A witch-hunter aimed a rifle at the Guildmaster. I fired once into his head and he fell down. Another came at us with a shotgun. Another head-shot threw him down onto the stained marble. A third appeared out of the melee of witch-hunters and the remnants of the packs. I fired into his head again, avoiding the Kevlar vest I knew was there. He fell down to the floor as the slide on my pistol locked back on the empty magazine. I was pulled into the corridor by the Guildmaster as the door slid down shut behind us.
The corridor was dark, using the lycanthropes supernatural vision as a safety precaution against invaders. It twisted and rose until it reached another concealed door, which the Guildmaster opened for us. We spilled out into the armory, nearly getting shot by the two guards that were stationed there. The Guildmaster quickly defused the situation before our two parties began firing. He talked to the guards as they tried to grasp a hold of the situation. While he did this, Hangman began to rummage through the weapons in the armory for useful guns. Nicky took a long look at my leg wound. Up until we had reached the armory, the wound had throbbed, but nothing I couldn’t ignore. Now, it burned with a familiar sensation. The bullet had been silver, or at least enough silver to prevent my normal healing abilities from working. Nicky probed at the small, bloody hole in my thigh with his claw. I grimaced slightly at the pain, letting my breath out as Nicky removed his claw from the hole.
“It went clean through. I’m going to flush it with some medicine, and that should help restore some of your healing. This may hurt a bit,” he warned, spilling an amber liquid on the wound. Fire flashed through my body, but quickly subsided. Nicky wrapped a cloth bandage around my leg and looked at it skeptically.
“I can walk,” I said, getting to my feet, “It just hurts a bit.” Nicky’s face darkened, but I ignored his concern. There were more important things to do. I walked over to Hangman, who was laying a bunch of firearms on the ground. Most of them were pistols and small sub-machine guns. The Guildmaster walked over to where we were standing with Matric trailing slightly behind.
“The guards have been in contact with the group protecting the Lady-Apparent. They are holed up in the coronation room. They’re holding on, but barely. The Knights throughout the building are regrouping for a massive push to recapture the Manor and the coronation room. However, I don’t think they will succeed. The witch-hunters have three full Shields committed to this operation and only the first has actually attacked us.” I was amazed at this. They had to have pulled every witch-hunter they had in Florida to attack us. But why had they decided on Hillsborough and not the rest of the state?
“Several of our hit packs, along with the shaman, have rallied nearby and are planning to attack the reserve Shields. The pups that were in tysach have been moved to Pinellas to the Guild there. We are going to rescue the Lady-Apparent, then kill every witch-hunter in the Manor.” We accepted this quietly. The Guildmaster explained his plan, and we nodded at the end. There were no questions. It was a simple enough plan. Arm and armor ourselves, walk back down the corridor, open the door and throw concussion grenades, then fight our way to the coronation room. Then it was a matter of grabbing the Lady-Apparent and fighting our way back to the corridor, which would be guarded by the two guards that the Guildmaster had recruited. After she was safe, the Guildmaster would let us go back and play.
After we had been briefed, we began to load up. Our bare bodies were covered by light jumpsuits and Kevlar vests. Radios were placed and checked. The others began to load up on the heavy weapons. I reloaded my USP and found a couple of spare magazines for it. I grabbed a Colt M4 carbine. It was nice, compact, and the rifle bullets would go through most bullet-proof vests. Satisfied I had a primary and backup weapon, I grabbed a few concussion grenades. I didn’t want fragments flying around – especially since our frag grenades tended to fling silver shards around – and the concussion grenades would open up enough space to work in. I was placing spare magazines on me when I saw Nicky pick up another M4. Hangman had found an HK G36K, which was another compact 5.56 mm assault rifle. It was okay, but I preferred variants of the M16, like my Commando, and the M4 I was holding. Matric and the Guildmaster had foregone the assault rifles and were wielding Benelli semi-auto shotguns. I was mildly surprised by my boss’s choice in long guns, but it was the guards that truly shocked me.
The two guards hauled out a small cart with a General Electric Minigun in 5.56 mm mounted on it. I was surprised that the Red Knights even had one of them, but then remembered that the gun defending the half-floor at the top of the Manor was a GE Minigun in 7.62 mm. This was probably the back-up. The taller one actually pushed the cart, while his partner pushed a second cart that held the massive amount of ammunition needed to feed the Minigun. It was a hungry beast of a weapon. Both guards also carried TMPs for back-up. Suitably armed, we planned what our group would do once we managed to make it back to the Manor.
Our group moved back up the corridor in silence. The hunters knew what they were doing, and the guards were too scared to say anything. I didn’t care if they were terrified of going up against the witch-hunters as long as they did their part – and did it right. As the door neared, Nick and I pulled the concussion grenades we were carrying out and crept over to where the door would open. The Guildmaster opened the door just a crack, and the darkness pierced by a narrow beam of light. Nick and I pulled the pins on our grenades and rolled them out into the Manor. We both silently counted down the three second fuses on the grenades.
WHUMP!! We half-heard, half-felt the muffled explosions that launched us into action. The Guildmaster swung the door open and stepped to the side. I slid out along the marble floor, letting loose short bursts at the first five witch-hunters I saw. Okay, sliding was not considered a proper entry technique, but I wanted to make damn sure I was under all of the gunfire that was crossing the Manor. I heard Nicky open up with his M4 behind me. I scampered up to my feet, shooting another two as I came up. The spent magazine clattered to the floor as I slapped a fresh one into the waiting receiver. Nick came up on my right, cutting three witch-hunters down with accurate bursts. Hangman came up on my left, similarly taking down witch-hunters with odd sounding bursts of fire. I heard the Guildmaster and Matric follow up behind. I half-worried that Matric wouldn’t be able to keep up with us during the firefight, but I had to admit, he had done well so far just by surviving. Once we had formed up about fifteen feet from where the door was, the Guildmaster ordered us to drop to the floor and signaled the guards. As we hit the blood-laced marble floor, the Red Knight guards let loose with the Minigun.
Unlike most machineguns, Minguns are rotary guns. The gun has six barrels which are formed into a circle and then spun by an electrical generator, during which they are loaded, fired, and then have the casings extracted. This type of firing cycle allows for a very high firing rate, usually in the two to four thousand rounds per minute range. It also makes a very unique noise when fired. Instead of the chattering sound that conventional machineguns make, a Minigun sounds like an amplified chainsaw. Bad thing was that it ate up so much ammunition so fast, we didn’t dare use silver ammunition in it. Just the volume of fire tended to suppress most of the bad things – such as vampires – until others with normal weapons could pick them off. The witch-hunters had no such protection from standard lead rounds. I watched as all the witch-hunters around us were thrown back and down as the Minigun made its deadly arcs. As the Minigun kept firing, the five of us began picking off individual witch-hunters. It seemed like it took five minutes for the minigun to eat through all of the bullets in the massive drum that had accompanied it, but the reality was that it took less than twenty seconds for the roaring chainsaw to dull down to the whine of the electric motor. No longer covered by the massive fire support of the minigun, our group launched ourselves off the floor and into the air. This brought a lot of fire on us, but the fire that the three of us with automatic weapons were laying down as we landed cut down most of those shooting. We landed about ten yards from the door to the coronation room. The Guildmaster and Matric began rapidly unloading double-ought buck at the witch-hunters, as Hangman, Nick, and I did quick changes on the magazines. We returned the favor as the three of us began placing bursts while the Guildmaster and Matric loaded shells. I gave Nick an evil grin and pulled out another concussion grenade. He nodded, mirroring my maliciousness.
The grenade landed about halfway between us and the door to the coronation room. The blast actually threw some of witch-hunters through the air, but most of them were just knocked down. The result was a small hole in the witch-hunters’ forces that they were throwing against the door. The Guildmaster and Matric darted through the hole as the rest of us covered them. Their weapons were far more lethal in close quarters than our carbines. The two reached the door after a couple of close calls, and went inside.
A large group of Red Knights, most of who looked like they had been hit, came out of the door, with their machine pistols blazing away. Nick, Hangman, and I dropped to the floor to avoid being cut in pieces. I was about to scream at the Guildmaster for not warning us, but then found out my earpiece on my radio had come unplugged. I cursed Murphy and his fucking law and plugged my earpiece back in.
“Marcus, are you there?” the Guildmaster asked.
“Yeah,” I answered, busily firing as the witch-hunters came near us.
“We’re coming out,” he reported, “I need you to meet us over here and help us cover the Lady- Apparent. Then–” The Guildmaster was cut off by a loud thunder clap. A new wave of witch-hunters ran through the Manor door, joining their brothers already in the crowded melee. What the fuck caused them to bring in reinforcements? The minigun? After a moment, though, I noticed that the new witch-hunters weren’t coming to reinforce the other witch-hunters – they were running from something. The wall that separated the Manor from the foyer collapsed. Blue-white lightning bolts streaked across the room, exploding tiles like fragmentation grenades, sending razor-sharp marble shards into the unsuspecting witch-hunters. The thunder that rolled through from the lightning was mixed with the new high-pitched crack of assault rifles as I saw the first of the lycanthrope counter-attack.
Sneller was visibly in the lead, shouting orders over the roar of the entry as hunters, shaman, and pack warriors swept down on the confused and panicked witch-hunters. We stayed on the marble floor, firing at the witch-hunters who were foolish enough to come within our reach. I lost complete track of time as the battle enveloped me. All I knew wat that the fight lasted another three reloads, before Ronin slashed the last witch- hunter with a long silver dagger. There was a deathly silence as I got up off the tile and looked around.
Most of the lycanthropes that had come to see my trial were dead, including nearly all of the pack leaders. Their bodies were strewn across the room along with the witch-hunters. Bullet pockmarks marred the walls and columns. The throne was destroyed, splintered in half by bullets. The Guildmaster led the group out of the coronation room, looking out across the room. He kept his face emotionless, but I knew he what he was thinking. He walked over to me and didn’t say anything, which in itself spoke volumes.
Sneller walked over to us, a long slash on his muzzle. “We wanted to warn you, but there wasn’t enough time. A group of the more experienced shaman joined us and I decided to counterattack.” The Guildmaster nodded absently as he drew himself up. He told Sneller to gather his forces and secure the perimeter, and the then he walked over to the Lady-Apparent. She had sat down where the last of her family, her younger brother and sister, had been sitting, both of whom were now dead. Her two younger siblings had been caught in the crossfire and had taken bursts of automatic fire across their torsos. I walked over with the Guildmaster towards her as she wept for her two dead siblings. Smythe was talking with a few of the surviving Red Knights and the few shaman that had come with Sneller were carrying out the bodies of the Spiritmaster and Yven, in addition to most of the entourage they had brought.
“Milady,” the Guildmaster said, quietly, “I’m afraid we have much work to do, and some of it requires your attention.” The Lady-Apparent cradled the body of her little sister in her arms, not even showing whether she had heard the Guildmaster or not. I knelt down beside her, laid my carbine on the ground, and put my hand on her shoulder. My heart was frozen with fear, but my instincts had taken over. The Lady-Apparent wasn’t thinking like a leader of the lycanthropes of her county. She was thinking like a big sister that had just seen the corpses of her two younger siblings. She needed to be guided back to her duties, or she would be lost. I don’t know how I knew, I just knew what I needed to do.
“Elizabeth,” I murmured to her, “She isn’t coming back. You have to leave her and help us, or all of the lycanthropes in Hillsborough are going to die.” She turned to look at me. Tears still streamed, but she got up. I rose to my feet with her, my arm protectively circling her shoulders. She continued to sob for a moment, but the tears stopped as she composed herself. My heart yearned for vengeance, and was frustrated by the fact that all the witch-hunters were dead. I was startled by the feelings, but comforted by her warmth against me.
“What needs to be done?” she asked the Guildmaster. She had regained her composure, but I could feel her still leaning into me.
“First, we need to gather the remainders of the packs and what’s left of both the Order and the Guild. We will also need the unaligned lycanthropes in Hillsborough. Second, once we have got everyone here, we need to reorganize to finish the war with the vampire. Also a detail needs to be made to gather all the lycanthrope bodies here and take them to the cravex for a mass Rite of the Dead.”
“Get the Order to handle that part. Preferably their senior member still alive. What about outside help, from the state organizations or from Pinellas and Pasco?” she asked. Her years of tutelage in leadership were coming to the forefront, suppressing her grief. It was much like when I pushed down all of my emotions to do a job. I loosened my arm over her shoulders, allowing her to stand on her own. It was difficult, but I knew it was necessary. Again, the instinct was guiding me as to what to do, because Ancestors knew I had no fucking clue in the cognitive part of my mind.
“I don’t think that they will be able to help,” the Guildmaster explained, “I believe that the state organizations may be pulling themselves in for a possible statewide war, and the other counties are too busy playing politics to see who will come out on top of the war council. The Pinellas Guild will guard our pups, and will accept anyone we send over there, but I doubt that Lady Thames will allow anything else.”
“NO!” screamed a voice behind the Guildmaster. He turned and allowed me to see a battered Smythe emerging from his group of Red Knights. His eyes held a maddened glint in them, and his fingers twitched around the TMP he was holding at his side. “The first thing we must do is kill the hunter. He helped kill Stephen and Jason Vollen, and he must pay for this.” The machine pistol jerked up and pointed at me. I began planning the moves I would need to reach my carbine and place a burst into the bastard dog’s chest.
“I didn’t kill them, Smythe,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm I attempted to slide my arm off of Elizabeth’s shoulders, but she tucked in closer to me, “I tried to stop Stephen’s killer, but he was better than me. I would have stopped Silanti from killing Jason, but you attacked me.” His eyes went wild, and a burst erupted from the gun. I could hear the bullets whistling past my ear. Then I felt Elizabeth grip me. At that moment, I lost my confidence, and a new fear set in. It was a deeper fear than any that I had felt before, because it wasn’t for me, but for her. That idiot would probably kill her if he didn’t control that fucking TMP. I tried to get her behind me, but she just wouldn’t do it.
“You’re lying, you bastard dog,” he said wildly, “You were in league with the killers. I knew you wouldn’t have shot Silanti. You had planned to deliver the lord to him in advance. I know all about you hunters. At least, though, I could have killed you.” The barrel bobbed up and down, as he staggered towards us. My arm was trying to reach the USP in the small of my back, but I couldn’t quite find it. I heard him laughing maniacally. Then the thunder boomed.
I felt no pain, but watched the barrel of the TMP drop down. I looked beyond the gun at Smythe and saw his side had been blown out. He wobbled on his feet, a look of sheer surprise on his face. Another thunder boom and he was thrown to the side. I looked over to where Smythe had been shot from and saw Nicky standing with his big Smith and Wesson pointed at the ceiling. He quietly replaced the revolver in the holster and looked over to where the Red Knights were gawking at their fallen leader.
“Does anyone else question my friend’s integrity or innocence?” he asked in a deathly calm and quiet tone. The lot of them unconsciously backed up, shrinking from the evil look on his face. It was almost as if Death himself had possessed Nick. I squeezed Elizabeth protectively until my mind reassured me that my friend was still there. The Manor again rang with silence.
The Lady-Apparent released me and strode over to the Guildmaster. It shook me how quickly she left, and I was confused even more by the strange look she shot me over her shoulder. I was hurt, slightly, that she didn’t seem to need me anymore as she and the Guildmaster talked over plans for war. I was going to walk over to her, but a hand came on my shoulder. My reflexes took hold and my hand darted for my pistol. Nicky stayed calm as I realized who it was and let my arm fall back down. He gave me a warm look, almost like an older brother giving his acceptance to his sibling.
“Wipe that pained expression off your face Ranger,” he said, “She loves you.” I turned on him as an unusual anger gripped me.
“What the fuck do you mean?” I asked quickly, too quickly. Nicky just grinned and shook his head. He grabbed my arm and half-pulled me to where Sneller had gathered the hunters that had survived the attack. I tried resisting a little, but Nick was probably as strong as me, and I wasn’t all that determined.
“That look she gave you was transparent,” he said, “I realize that this is probably your first time experiencing some of the more refined emotions, having to be the ultimate hunter and all, but trust me on this. She does love you, and that explains a lot of her actions up to now. However, she, like us, has a lot of work to do, and everything else has got to be put away until later. Come on, I think Sneller got a job for us.”