The very first to grab a stick was Bligh. On seeing the way it’d been cut, he groaned on the inside.
I might not care for that bastard, but the whole warrior thing sure ain’t for show. This thing looks like it was cut with a laser.
Not wanting to scrutinize him too long or too hard, Bligh had been looking away most of the time, but now that things had settled down and he got a good look at the man, he saw that Brennan had a rugged, angular face and build, with battered armor covering him from the chest down to the very tips of his fingers and toes. Both his garb and the crossed set of longswords he wore on his back seemed to give off the stench of blood. The man had definitely been hardened in the fires of a hundred battles.
The wife, in contrast to her beast of husband, was a beauty of a woman with a slender face that gave an impression of tranquility. There was also a terrible air of nihilism about her, as if she were a negative image of her husband. However, she wore the same kind of protective armor. Though she had no sword, the “carrier” she wore on her back had a weapon that put her husband’s to shame—a belt-fed 20mm minigun, complete with a five-thousand-round ammo box. The woman was able to carry a hundred and fifty pounds of guns and ammunition thanks to the scientific miracle of the “carrier,” which reduced her load to practically zero. It hardly let her pass for an “ordinary woman.”
To either side of her waist, rails extended from the “carrier,” making it easy to shoot from the hip. Once the shooter got their target in the display screen of their eyepiece, all they had to do was press the firing button and let fly with a stream of polymer steel rounds that could punch through four inches of metal plating. Of all the monsters the Nobility had scattered across the earth, the great fire dragons were said to have the toughest armor, and nothing save that beast could withstand such a barrage. Of course, the price of such a weapon was astronomical, probably enough to purchase an entire small village out on the Frontier. Regardless of whether they’d gotten it by force or through negotiations, the fact that they had it made it clear this was no ordinary married couple.
Bligh pulled a survival tool called an “s-device” from a case he wore on the back of his belt. A footlong mass of metal, it could be used for cutting with a single thrust, blow, or pull, depending on how one held it. It also had a magnifying glass built into it, so starting fires wasn’t a problem. There were blades of varying thicknesses, and by changing the angle one could either split a rock in two or peel an apple.
Not surprisingly, the device caught Brennan’s eyes, and the man said to Bligh, “Handy little contraption you’ve got there.”
“Yeah. Bought it off an arms merchant. Lately they let you do financing, which really helped!”
“Let me have a look at it.”
“Sorry, but no,” Bligh replied. He hadn’t liked the way the warrior had said that. Nor did he care for how quick the man was to put his hand out.
“You and me haven’t got along from the very start, you son of a bitch.”
A deafening silence fell. The truth of Brennan’s words was common knowledge. To be honest, all of them had known this could explode at any moment. More to the point, they were probably wishing it’d just explode already and get it all over with.
However, it was Josette who put a stop to things, saying, “Dear . . .”
From the way his wife was dressed and her character in general, it was a perfectly natural thing for her to do.
But Brennan barked at her, “Keep your damn mouth shut!”
“Would you please just stop this?” Arbuckle then interrupted.
“Hey, you old flesh peddler.”
“That’s me,” the corpulent man said, raising his right hand. “Let’s stop fighting amongst ourselves for the time being. Don’t forget we’re smack dab in the middle of a facility run by bloodthirsty Nobles. If we intend to survive, we’ll all need to cooperate. Even a single minor injury is more than we can afford.”
Truer words were never spoken.
“He’s right, dear!” Josette said in a hard tone.
Bligh felt a horribly cold determination in it. If he’d had to put it into words—Does she intend to shoot her hubby?
The situation was resolved in the most appropriate fashion.
“Okay,” Brennan said, turning away sulkily. Before he did, however, he said, “But we’re gonna settle up sooner or later, fugitive.”
“Hmm. What gave me away?” Bligh replied, though it was clear from his tone he was joking.
Brennan’s answer was deadly serious. “What kind of ordinary Frontiersman would be walking around with a weapon like that? It takes a decade just to get the hang of it. Plus, you seem to be in more of a hurry than any of the rest of us. Because someone’s on your tail. And, finally—when you look at yourself, do you see an upstanding person?”
“Well, if that don’t beat all,” Bligh said, rubbing his face with both hands. “If that’s the way it looks to you, guess there ain’t much I can do. Sure, I’ve got the look of a wanted man. So, yes, sir, whatever you say.”
Sitting down in front of a window, Bligh began shaving the end of the branch to a point. Curls of wood fell as if he were merely skinning an apple, and in no time at all he’d fashioned some keen anti-Noble weapons, drawing sounds of surprise from Arbuckle and Charlotte. In the time it’d taken him to make three stakes, Arbuckle and Jan still hadn’t finished their first.
Bligh took a long stake—actually, closer to a short spear—and sharpened the opposite end to a point, too. On seeing that he went on to put notches around the middle of it, Josette narrowed her gaze and asked, “What’s that you’re doing there?”
“I figure there are times when just one stab won’t do the trick. Then you can snap it off, and you’ve got another one.”
“You sure you’re not really a fugitive?” the warrior’s wife said, making no attempt to conceal her surprise. “You seem more accustomed to battle than we are—”
Just then, a mass of black slammed into her cheek, sending her backward.
Stepping in front of the reeling Josette, Bligh glared at her attacker and snarled, “What the hell was that for?!”
“Why don’t you ask her?” Brennan replied, rubbing his fist as he turned around.
“You son of a bitch!”
“Don’t. It’s fine. It was my mistake,” the woman said.
“Yeah, but—”
“I shouldn’t have said we. That’s all.”
“That’s all?! What the hell?!” Bligh exclaimed, still ready to make a stand, but Arbuckle clamped down on his shoulder. “Stay out of my way. I’m gonna punch that asshole’s lights out.”
“Do that, and you’re likely to just bring down more wrath on his wife. It boils down to the question of pride. Surely you can see that, can’t you?”
Turning to face the woman, Bligh asked, “You sure it’s all right?”
“Yeah,” she answered, holding her cheek. A blow like that would be sure to leave a bruise.
Bligh felt he was getting a clear picture of the couple’s relationship, but he shook his head to drive the images away.
“Well, then it ain’t for me to say otherwise. See you folks later.”
And raising one hand, the man headed for the front hall.
“Where are you going?” an agitated Arbuckle inquired.
“To the Nobles’ mansion, of course. Didn’t you hear? They’re having a dance party today. I got an engraved invitation and everything. I’ll be the only human there. The invite said to come in casual attire, and kindly bring a fresh wooden stake.”
“Hey, hold on a minute.”
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry. See, I’d like to be back here before sundown.”
“Heading up there alone is crazy!” said Jan.
“People come into this world alone, kid,” Bligh replied with a smile. “And they’re alone again when they die. Funny how that works, eh?”
“No, you’re wrong,” a woman’s voice said, pulling the man back just as he was about to make a heroic exit. It was Charlotte.
“How’s that?”
“When a baby’s born, there’s a doctor there to deliver it. Or even if there wasn’t a doctor, your mother was there to give birth to you, right? And when you die, your wife will be there taking care of you.”
“Sorry, you’re wrong there. Ain’t got a wife.”
“You can be a real pain, you know that? At any rate, you need a woman with you, so I’ll go. I’ve finished making a stake and everything.”
“Uh, you’d just be in the way.”
“That’s right,” said another female voice, the words striking Bligh’s shoulder. “If an amateur goes, any trouble will just get chalked up to her being a woman. I’ll accompany him.”
The voice was that of Josette Brennan.
“You sure it’s okay, me borrowing his horse? Hubby’s gonna blow his top!”
“I don’t care. For what it’s worth, he did say no,” Josette remarked, smiling faintly. Beneath the plastic raincoat she’d procured at the general store, her black hair rolled in waves.
The rain continued to fall.
As he kept his balance high in the saddle, Bligh thought, Your husband told you not to! but he didn’t actually say it.
Crossing the river, the two of them were about to enter the forest. From there, they would turn north and head for the fortifications.
“Maybe it’s natural for midday, but ain’t it creepy, how quiet it is?”
“Really? You seem used to it.”
“What, to dead villages?”
“To death in general.”
“Spare me. If anyone was, it’d have to be the two of—”
“Yes, I suppose so. But you never get used to it. At least, I haven’t.”
“It doesn’t look that way at all,” Bligh said, his gaze falling on the weapon on Josette’s back, then bouncing off it again.
The world of gloom only grew darker. For they’d entered the forest.
Before they’d gone a hundred yards, Bligh wanted nothing more than to turn around and go back.
“What’s the deal with this forest?”
Due to the rain, he knew they wouldn’t hear any birds singing. However, there were no rabbits or other little critters to be seen scampering about—nor any indications that any were around, which was a bit much to believe. Creatures like squirrels lived in the trunks of trees, bark-eating scales slept beneath the bark, moles wriggled through the earth, jump bugs sprang around in the grass, winged insects sailed through the air, water beetles skittered across puddles, and deer and the like beat small paths—all of which breathed life into a place that travelers could feel. And yet, in this forest there was none of that. Though the rain-drenched plants and trees glistened sharp and fresh, like a lovely painting, there was no pulse of life to be felt from this place.
“What do you expect? It’s a forest on the Nobility’s lands.”
Josette’s words drew a sideward glance from Bligh.
“Once, I passed through lands where an ancient Noble still held sway. There were people there, but they had no spring to them, like they were all dead, and not a single birdsong rang through the forests.”
“Cripes,” said the man.
“About two years later, I passed through the same lands, and it was like a whole different world. Everybody was so full of life, and the forest positively teemed with the sounds of animals. Seems it got like that after a Hunter came through a year earlier and slew the Noble.”
“Yeah, a Noble. The thing is, I hear a lot about ’em, but since I ain’t ever been around one, I just don’t got a handle on ’em. You mean to tell me there are humans who can take down Nobility? I thought the Nobility kept their graves well-guarded during the daytime, so getting to ’em was no easy task.”
“There are exceptions, I suppose. Dhampirs, for example.”
Ice water coursed down Bligh’s back, and he shuddered in spite of himself. In the forest it was four or five degrees cooler than outside, and rain was pouring down, but neither was responsible for his trembling.
Dhampir. The very word was cursed.
“Is it true they’re all really ugly looking, like the undead, and they can use witchcraft? Or that their arms and legs are all weird and twisted, and they’ve got another face on their backs?”
“Damned if I know. I’ve never met one.”
“What? But some of ’em are warriors, too. Almost all dhampirs wind up as either Vampire Hunters or warriors. You ain’t made acquaintances with any of ’em?”
“We’re not good at making friends.”
“Well, I can see that about your hubby,” Bligh said before looking up at the sky. “Shit. When is this goddamned rain gonna let up? Got nothing better to do than slow folks down.”
“I see. Seems you’re in a hurry to hit the road, eh?” Josette said, a wry grin rising on her lips.
“No, I ain’t in a hurry to hit the road, exactly. But there’s somewhere I definitely need to be.”
“So badly you’d barge into a Noble’s mansion with no more than a stake?”
“Well, it’s that important to me. Besides, I’ve got more than just a stake. And it’s still daytime, after all.”
Suddenly seeming to have recalled something, Josette pulled back on her horse’s reins. “Oh, that’s right. Did you know the Nobility had intended to put out the sun?”
Bligh bugged his eyes. Though he’d heard various anecdotes about the Nobility, this was a new one on him.
“Put out the sun? C’mon. Even for the Nobility, that’s going a bit far.”
“Why do you suppose they didn’t do it? A planet like this, where one side’s always sure to be facing the sun, has really got to be about the worst place in the universe for the Nobility to live. A permanent city was constructed for them on the dark side of the moon, and they say their exploration parties went as far as Alpha Centauri. After all, we’re talking about folks who’ve got immortality and indestructibility working for them. They don’t need any of the suspended animation chambers ancient humans dreamed up, and if a major accident were to happen, they could go outside and repair their ship without even wearing a spacesuit. And they’d be happy as a clam no matter how bad the radiation or cosmic rays might be out there. They could breathe a pure hydrogen sulfide atmosphere like it was fresh air, and a freezing cold planet would still seem like paradise to them. In all the vast universe, there couldn’t have been many creatures like that, so efficient at survival they needed no food so long as they had dehydrated blood.”
“Then shouldn’t they have gone out into the universe more?” Bligh asked. “From what I hear, anybody as sharp as the Nobility could’ve made a ship that’d fly at the speed of light. Though damned if I know what light has to do with any of this.”
“There are two theories about that. One is that it’s some kind of psychological taboo for the Nobility. The example I always hear is the fact that the city on the dark side of the moon was abandoned before a century had passed. In other words, the theory is that the Nobility actually love the light. That had something to do with the beginning of their mysterious decline a few millennia ago. The second one involves them—the OSB.”
“The outer space beings?”
“Yeah. Five thousand years ago a battle started between the Nobility and the first alien race they encountered, and it went on for two millennia. The theory goes that the war was a crushing blow to the core of the Nobility, and one they never fully recovered from. Just between the two of us, it seems the Sacred Ancestor’s personal interests picked up speed during that era.”
“What kind of interests are we talking about?”
“I don’t really know. But I’ve heard it involved dissecting humans and OSB.”
“Dissection? The guy some kind of freak?!”
Suddenly, the ground shook.
The cyborg horses were about to go wild, prompting the two riders to madly pull on the reins and stroke the beasts.
“See, what did I tell you? Speak ill of the Sacred Ancestor on the Nobility’s lands, and dead humans and Nobles alike will come out of their graves to tear you to shreds.”
“Whatever you say, ma’am.”
That was the last thing said, and the pair then rode through the forest in silence, reaching the foot of the hill in less than twenty minutes. The road twisted up a gentle slope all the way to the Nobles’ castle.
“The Nobles’ castle isn’t old at all—no chance it’s empty, eh?” Josette said, and when she moved her right hand, the minigun on her back slid down the rail on the right-hand side. Thanks to a remote-control firing mechanism and the flexible arm mounting, the weapon could target anywhere.
Josette’s body was trembling faintly. She knew all too well they weren’t going to be exploring a vacant house.
It was an easy enough climb up the stone-paved road. Raising a hand to shield themselves from the rain, each of them looked up at the towering stone walls. The first thing that struck them about the fortifications was how rough the outer walls seemed.
The so-called “nostalgic tastes of the Nobility” varied in different eras, but for the most part they could be grouped under the heading “elegant.” Many of their mansions were done in the baroque style of ancient times, and characteristically on the Frontier they were more properly called castles or fortresses. An interesting point was that even at their height, the Nobility built castles for battling those under their banner who resisted and collected weapons for wholesale slaughter, and these proved a great contribution to the later OSB War, considered a shining beacon of “foresight” in the history of the Nobility. During two millennia of fighting against the OSB, what had the most splendid results and checked the alien invasion were the fortresses and castles of the Frontier, as well as the factories there that produced weapons and facilities that ensured a constant power supply.
After the lengthy war, the lords of the Frontier took great pride in their ravaged castles, rebuilding them with even rougher, stronger walls. Also, rather than modernize the Frontier, they seemed determined to send it even further into the past, releasing even more vicious, primitive monsters, though that would later be taken as a symbol of their own “period of ebb” that followed. It was at this time that the fortresses that even now kept the Frontier a domain of fear were constructed. But history only considered those who moved forward as its legitimate children. In no time, the Nobles’ civilization had been swallowed up by the waves of their species’ decline, and at present they showed no signs of bobbing to the surface again.
However, the fortifications that the two humans now looked up at still retained the coarse image of Frontier Nobility, looming over the human race, not wavering in the least. There was a gate set in the ramparts. The rivet-studded, black iron doors were the first problem the pair would need to deal with. At any rate, all they could do was try giving them a push.
Bligh dismounted and reached out his hand for the gleaming black metal. The instant his fingers made contact, the doors swung back from the center, opening.
“Hey, there’s somebody here!” Bligh exclaimed after getting back in the saddle, and Josette nodded at his words.
However, they passed through the gate and went into the front yard without seeing a single person.
“They’re treating us like idiots. I ain’t about to let a castle screw with me!” the man growled. “So, in a castle like this, where would they put the graves?” the man asked, apparently having quickly reclaimed his reason.
“One of three spots. A graveyard on the grounds, in a chapel, or underground.”
“Ain’t got much time. Which has the highest chances?”
“The chapel, I suppose.”
“By chapel, you mean some kind of holy place for praying to God?”
“That’s right.”
“Why the hell would a nest of vampires have something like that?”
“It must suit their tastes.”
“Damned if I understand,” Bligh said, tilting his head to one side and driving away a question he’d had for many years.
The interior was rough and entirely rustic in feel, devoid of both the influence of gothic elegance and the style researchers had termed ultramodern. Apparently Josette was accustomed to this, and aside from one or two mistakes she guided Bligh to the door they sought. But there in the vast place for supplications to God, which was like an enormous hall, they couldn’t find a single coffin.
After checking the floor and walls—anywhere a coffin might be stashed-—Josette said, “In that case, it must be underground. If they were buried out in the cemetery, they’d be spotted right away. It would have to be the worst place of all.”
“Well, there ain’t much we can do about that. Can’t really turn tail ’cause we’re spooked after coming all this way.”
“That’s the spirit!”
The pair’s eyes were riveted to an iron door at the far end of the chapel.
“Well, look at that,” Bligh said, adjusting his grip on a long stake.
The iron door was open. But when they’d entered the chamber, he was certain it’d been closed.
After the pair had set out, the two girls’ conditions had become marginally stable, setting the minds of their caretakers Jan and Arbuckle at ease. The other one there—Brennan—didn’t help at all, but rather stared out the window into the rain.
“If you’re so concerned, why don’t you go after them?” Arbuckle said to him.
Turning, Brennan said, “My wife’s got a bit of warrior in her, too. She calls her own shots.”
“You said at the outset she was just an ordinary woman. Was that because it was to your advantage to have everyone believe so? Looking at the two of you, you don’t seem all that independent.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What indeed,” Arbuckle replied cryptically, turning away in a snit.
A shadow fell across his face.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the warrior repeated, standing now by the plump man’s side.
“Hey! Knock it off!” an agitated Charlotte called over from where she’d been watching this develop. “This is hardly the time for squabbling, is it? If we don’t work together, we’re not gonna make it out of here alive!”
“I can make it out of here on my own,” Brennan said, his eyes giving off a weird gleam. “If trouble starts, you folks are the ones that’ve had it.”
“You’re right, so just stop this. Don’t go wasting your abilities like this—and you need to keep the peace, too.”
Jan, who was watching over his beloved, snapped to attention, saying, “She’s right. Please, just stop it. I saw something in a guidebook back in the Capital. These parts were once a battlefield where the OSB fought the Nobility. It might just be that both sides lured us to the village.”
“Huh?” the physician Arbuckle exclaimed, his expression changing. He was facing one of the windows. “What’s that out there?”
Beneath the leaden sky, they all saw a black streak descending at an angle. It was neither bird nor flying monstrosity. It was a manufactured flying machine.
“It can’t be—” Charlotte groaned. She recalled what Jan had just said. The OSB—outer space beings.
Minds blanked, they all saw the glittering silver craft at the fore of that black smoke.
“It went down behind the castle!”
A few seconds later, a fireball erupted from the very place Jan had said.
Although they didn’t see the flames from the chapel, the roar and the quaking of the ground reached the pair.
“What the hell was that?” said Bligh.
“It was pretty close to here!”
The two of them sped into action. Behind them, the door leading underground slowly closed. There was a certain sadness to it.
Not confident that they could navigate through the castle interior and out the back, the pair went back to the main entrance and got on their cyborg horses. Circling around the castle’s outer walls, they reached the back.
The first thing they saw hit them like a knife in the eye.
“Sheesh,” Bligh groaned, while Josette was left speechless.
Less than a thousand yards away—where the aircraft had apparently crashed—there were flames. However, the vast plain spreading before them was covered as far as the eye could see with the wreckage of countless machines. There were what had apparently been aircraft over a mile and a quarter in length; engines for tanks that were fifty yards in length, width, and height; the lower half of a titanic warrior that looked like it would’ve stood sixty feet high; the heads of stone men weighing five thousand tons each, as well as the primitive spears they used and dimensional blades—all of these things were half destroyed, melted, beaten by wind and rain for millennia, littering the plain and surrounding wilderness, but scattered among them were objects in shapes and colors clearly at odds with earthly physics.
“This was a battlefield for the OSB and the Nobility,” Bligh murmured in the tone of one who’d lost his soul.
“So it appears. The aircraft went down there,” Josette said, but her eyes were vacant too.
Feeling as if they’d wandered into a land of giants, the pair galloped through the rain. A shattered man of stone had his face turned toward them, the path ahead was blocked by the arms and legs of mechanized giants, and the wind whistled across this land of the dead. And then there was the rain. If not for the raging flames, the pair might’ve turned back along the way. From their first glance at the wreck, they knew there was no hope of rescuing anyone. Unless they’d bailed out on the way down, there was no way anyone could’ve survived the scorching flames and blistering hell that even now buffeted the faces of the pair. It was so bad that Bligh had to wonder if the scalding heat wouldn’t bring the dead who’d lain here for millennia back to life. Out of the Frontier, such things often went beyond the point of mere speculation.
“Think we oughta go?” Bligh asked.
“Yeah,” Josette replied, and she was just about to wheel her steed around when she suddenly jerked back on the reins. Pointing into the flames, she exclaimed, “What’s that?!”
Bligh was already facing the other way, and when he turned back the two of them witnessed a black figure slowly walking toward them through the swirling palette of blistering heat.
“No way—”
“No, he’s alive!”
Those were the only words they exchanged before the figure stepped from the flames. Actually, fire still enveloped him from head to toe. Advancing to within five yards of the speechless pair of spectators, the anthropomorphic fireball extended his left hand by his side. Suddenly the flames coursed across his body like a stream, being sucked into the palm of his hand while the pair stared with disbelief. Once the last tongue of flame had been swallowed, a man in black garb was laid bare to the pounding rain. In a wide-brimmed traveler’s hat and a coat the hue of night, he had an elegantly curved longsword across his back—and though it was incredible that none of his trappings showed any trace of the flames, what left both of them speechless and frozen in place was the man’s beauty. Here was the radiance of youth so many geniuses had tried to capture in paint, song, and prose. Ah, but none of them had been able to express it. Because the light of this beauty didn’t belong to the human race. It was the glow of angels and saints.
Without even realizing it, Josette had her hand pressed to her heart. She thought she should probably say something, but the beauty of his face was such that she couldn’t get out a word, and the man started to walk right past Bligh.
“Hey, wait!” the flustered Bligh cried out to him. “How’d you make it out of them flames? Were there any other survivors? If so, we’d better go save ’em!”
“It’s no use,” the figure in black said over his shoulder. The rain spattered off him.
Yeah, you’ve got a point, Bligh thought knowingly. But that being the case, he had a million things to ask the man. Swiftly wheeling his steed around, Bligh caught up with the man. “You’re lucky you survived, but you’re still in a world of hurt. This is a Noble testing ground. You splashed down in an old Noble/OSB battlefield. Did you know that?”
Before the man could answer, Josette said in a conclusive tone, “You—you’re a Hunter, aren’t you? And I don’t mean the garden variety. A Vampire Hunter.”
There was no reply.
Bligh’s eyes were bugged out.
Josette continued, “If so, you must’ve been sent from heaven above. The will of the Nobility lives on here. Or maybe the Nobles themselves are still hale and hearty.”
The young man in black halted. It wasn’t that he’d taken an interest in the pair’s words. He’d merely reached the crest of the path. To the left, the rear wall of the castle loomed. He was taking in the panorama of the rain-shrouded village below.
Something’s starting here, Bligh thought, certain of himself. His body trembled, and not due to the chill of the rain. Something intense is gonna happen, a lot worse than anything we could’ve done. On account of this guy.
Bligh realized it was already too late. From the instant the gorgeous young man had appeared, everything had started to flow in another direction. While he knew that wouldn’t necessarily be the way they wanted things to go, the realization that there was nothing they could do was pounded into Bligh the same way the rain hammered the ground.
“Bligh’s the name—I’m a drifter.”
“I’m Josette Brennan—a warrior’s wife.”
“D,” he replied with surprising speed.
Sensing something racing through every inch of Josette’s body, Bligh looked over his shoulder. Surprise was just spreading across her slim, lovely countenance. It was immediately consumed by admiration, which was in turn devoured by yet another emotion—fear.
“D . . .” the warrior’s wife parroted, a blank look on her face. She took off her vinyl covering. “Here—put this on.”
The young man who’d introduced himself as D just turned his face away a bit from the raincoat she proffered, saying, “No, thanks, but I appreciate the offer.”
Though Josette dazedly pulled the vinyl garment back, she made no attempt to put it back on.
“Hey, you don’t mean to tell me—” Bligh began to say in a perplexed tone.
Was she doing that as a sign of respect?
D started walking. He headed down the sloping path without even glancing at the fortifications. And the other two followed after him. They didn’t feel much like going back to the castle. After all, the strength had been entirely drained from them. They were like children playing with plastic swords when a swordsman with a real blade had suddenly shown up—the difference seemed that staggering.
When they were halfway down the slope, a dull sound reverberated from the backyard. A door had closed. A short time later, there was another.
“What the hell was that? We leave a door open when we came out here?” Bligh mused, twisting his upper body around for a look at the castle.
“No, they’re calling to us,” Josette replied. “Or perhaps cursing us. For getting away.”
“You mean they were waiting for us?”
“Yeah, probably,” she answered, and then she gave a hard and decidedly unladylike look at D’s back. “What do you think?”
She got an immediate reply.
“Better think about what comes next. This village is full of danger.”
The two of them were rendered speechless. They remained so all the way back to the meeting house.
Just as they were about to dismount from their cyborg steeds, Bligh and Josette involuntarily cried out in disappointment.
D hadn’t halted, but rather was continuing on straight toward the main entrance to the village.
“Hey, just a second there! You mean to tell me you’re leaving?!”
“It’s no use,” said the woman. “You can’t get out.”
Though he seemed to be walking at a leisurely pace, D was putting distance between them like a speed walker, and they couldn’t let that stand. The two of them knew perfectly well that their fates depended on the beautiful young man.
“I’m gonna go after him and try talking some sense into him,” said Bligh. “You should head back.”
“Okay. See if you can do something.”
“Just leave it to me,” he replied with a thump of his chest, but they both knew it was a show of false bravado.
Bligh galloped along on his horse until he was alongside D. Immediately dismounting, he took a place by D’s left. “Okay, just hear me out,” he began, giving the young man a brief recap of the situation up until now and informing him of their own failed attempts to escape. The only interest D showed was in the part where a woman had saved Bligh from a muddy snare.
“What sort of woman?”
“Well, you see, she had on this pure white dress, with black hair all the way down to her waist—and in the end, she rode off on a huge goddamned bat. I shit you not!”
At that point, a hoarse, raspy voice that hardly seemed like it could belong to D said from somewhere, “Duchess Heldarling?”
“What?” Bligh said, looking all about in spite of himself, but there was no one else around.
In that case, was that D just now? And him with a face like that! Is this what they mean when they talk about Nobles going back to their true age an instant before they die? The question was just about to flop from his mouth like too much bread and ham he’d bitten off, but of course Bligh wasn’t stupid enough to actually ask it.
“Could be,” D replied.
As the man had thought, there was definitely a second presence here, but where was he—or it?
“So, just who’s this Heldarling?” the man inquired, and then gunshots echoed behind him.
It wasn’t the conventional crack of a rifle. Rather, it was the sound of a burst of fire from a high-caliber minigun. It died down. And then—another burst.