Only one thought went through Amaranth's head as he walked down the streets
of New York, and that thought was how much he hated having to deal with the
other kindred. It was unfortunate that he had been able to shrug off the
Prince's summons, but there were some things one simply didn't do if he
intended to live (or rather, not live) a hale and hearty life (or, in this
case, unlife). One of those was disobey a direct summons from the prince,
delivered by Seneschal.
Especially when, after attempting to refuse politely, one woke the next night to find a note tacked to the inside of one's coffin's cover, right at a level with his eyes, saying, quite politely, that, I'm certain you had the best of intentions, now would you please just drop the damned pretenses and hie your undead ass over to my mansion as if the hellhounds of Gehenna were chasing you down and you could go nowhere else, and if you make it in good time then I won't have to declare a blood hunt on you.
So, like any intelligent vampire, Amaranth had done as the prince asked.
Α Δ Ω
And the prince had had his fair share of things to say, most, not make that all, of which had had to do with using Amaranth as a pawn in the Jyhad. Amaranth, as politely had attempted to refuse the refreshments offered him by his host. He had reconsidered however, shortly after seeing the darkening countenance of the prince and the way that his knuckles were becoming white, then putting two and two together and guessing that the odd way the prince's goblet kept changing shape wasn't supposed to be artistic and, therefore, was due to the prince's anger about being refused.
Hastily acquiescing, he sat in the chair the prince's quivering finger pointed at after he had made the mistake of mentioning how one of the paintings the decorated the room was of greatly inferior to the others in terms of, well just about everything. The gesture was accompanied by words from the prince. "Mr. Amaranth, would you be willing to do yourself a favor?" There had been a miniscule pause here, and as soon as Amaranth had opened his mouth to reply, Kylith, the prince, cut him off. "Sit in that chair over there, and do not speak unless told to, or a question is asked to you directly. It will save me the hardship of having to raise my voice, and you the hardship of having your tongue ripped out. Thank you." Through out this exchange Amaranth noticed the Seneschal making a show of hiding his expression of mirth behind his hand.
Kylith walked around the massive mahogany desk that occupied the center of the room, sitting down in the tall Spanish-style over-stuffed chair that sat behind it. Turning so that he faced Amaranth, he began to speak. The Sheriff, who had been standing in a corner cracking his knuckles while brooding darkly to this point, now took up a position behind and to the right of the Prince. His eyes bored into Amaranth with a mixture of distrust, loathing, and just plain old hatred.
"Let us start, Caitiff," said the Prince, "by assuming that you have just now walked into this room, and the past ten minutes did not happen. We have been formally introduced and can now get down to business." The Sheriff's eyes narrowed even more, to the point where Amaranth was no longer sure if they were open or closed. "You are here for a reason Amaranth. Can you guess what that is?"
Stupid question, he thought, but my guess is that it's so this bastard can try to use me in the Jyhad, like any elder worth his salt would. "No, sir, I can not," was his verbal response. He had acted the fool earlier, to get them all off guard, although he knew that the Seneschal hadn't been fooled, now it was time to see if he could get the prince to tell him what he wanted without agreeing to anything. Then he would only have to get the prince to give him something in return for doing it. That, he was sure, would be the hard part.
"Do you remember what you did four nights ago? It was impressive, and the Seneschal's childe seems to believe that you are a great fighter. Myself, I am not so easily convinced. But you broke the rules of Elysium by doing it."
"I do not understand sir. Surely the rules of Elysium do not apply to wolves?" So this was the game they were going to play.
"The rule of Elysium state that you may do nothing which could endanger the Masquerade there, even more so then the rest of the city, and fighting, for any reason, is quiet strictly prohibited. As the rules have been broken, I must make a punishment for you, else others follow in your foolish example."
"But…"
"Do not make excuses, fledgling." This came from the quarter of the Seneschal.
"Accept your duty boy." Snarled the sheriff.
Amaranth shook his head. So, he wouldn't be able to get the Prince to make others leave him alone. Indeed, he would not get anything for doing whatever they wanted apparently. He could have screamed with frustration.
"I am prepared to overlook your minor infringement however, if you would be willing to destroy a particularly troubling Assamite though. For reasons that do not concern you, my hand must not be evident in the death or disappearance of Yaquib Al'Aridish."
"And if I refuse to do your wet work?"
"I shall be forced to call a blood hunt down on you for endangering the Masquerade."
Amaranth stood and began to walk for the door. Kylith spoke when as his hand touched the door. "If you leave this room without giving me an answer, I shall be forced to call the hunt down."
Amaranth smiled as he opened the door. "I shall do as you request. But, it will take time. No, stay seated, I'll find my way out." Kylith started to respond, but the door was already swinging shut.
Α Δ Ω
All this was what had transpired to leave Amaranth trudging down the street, cursing his dealings with Kindred society. He knew that the Prince was hoping he would either die in this errand, or else do something stupid and succeed, giving the prince a chance to declare the hunt any way.
He could also sense the inexperienced Kindred who was following him. And, further back, he could sense the enemy that had started this whole mess, the Enigmas as he called them. He wasn't even sure if they were really enemies or not, now that he thought about it. His mind began to ponder that for a few moments.
It was because he was so preoccupied that he failed to notice the group of teenagers in the alley. He was only dimly aware of their conversation.
"Hey, is that him?"
"Yeah that's the one. Should we take him?"
"He took Gnaws-The-Bones' pack down without even being touched. It'll be tough." Amaranth's mind, still embroiled in figuring out what to do about the Enigmas, asked itself fuzzily what sort of person would be named Gnaws- The-Bones.
"Aww, they were incompetent Jessie, come on, let's give it a try…"
"Whip-Whip-Whip-Whipporwill-Whipporwill-Whip-Whip-Whipporwill!"
The cry of the ten Spiral Dancers was enough to startle Amaranth out of his thoughts, and the premonition of danger was enough to make him throw his body back and away from the cry. The end result of this hectic maneuver was that he rolled underneath the oncoming Mac truck while the misshapen shape that had come flying at him tore the truck apart.
Amaranth rolled into a crouch, his weight positioned so that he could easily spring in any direction. It would figure, he thought to himself, that he had gone to the princes armed only with a stiletto. His ten opponents were arrayed in a rough semicircle facing him, and they were all reaching for the biggest things they could find to hit him with.
The first one to get something into the fray picked up a dumpster and smashed it down on Amaranth. The second, third, fourth and fifth, ones worked together to pickup the cab of the Mac truck and smash it down on top of the dumpster, for which Amaranth was now exceedingly grateful, as it actually protected him from this assault.
The sixth one, the one who had torn the trailer in half, picked up the rear end of the trailer and smashed that into the large pile of scrap metal that was accumulating in the middle of the street as. Following his example one of the others chucked the front half of the trailer on. The other three tore out light posts and stuck them into the pile at odd angles.
As gasoline and oil leaked out of the Mac truck, the Spirals cavorted around in glee, cackling at their good fortune and how much of a wimp the leech had been. An almost colorless gas seeped out from the pile of misshapen metal.
One of the Spirals turned to the human shape that had remained in the alley. "Jessie, you are such a…" was as far as he got before a undead hand with razor-sharp claws for finger tips crashed through his back, and kept on going until the shoulder of the body it was attached to was inside the werewolf's body cavity.
"Pathetic." Said Amaranth. Then he smiled.
Author's Note: I just love a cliffhanger, don't you? Anyway, I apologize in advance if I overdid the humor. Say Thor, does the description of the battle make you happy? I know the other one was brief, but this one should be nice and long. Let me hear your view, please review.
Especially when, after attempting to refuse politely, one woke the next night to find a note tacked to the inside of one's coffin's cover, right at a level with his eyes, saying, quite politely, that, I'm certain you had the best of intentions, now would you please just drop the damned pretenses and hie your undead ass over to my mansion as if the hellhounds of Gehenna were chasing you down and you could go nowhere else, and if you make it in good time then I won't have to declare a blood hunt on you.
So, like any intelligent vampire, Amaranth had done as the prince asked.
Α Δ Ω
And the prince had had his fair share of things to say, most, not make that all, of which had had to do with using Amaranth as a pawn in the Jyhad. Amaranth, as politely had attempted to refuse the refreshments offered him by his host. He had reconsidered however, shortly after seeing the darkening countenance of the prince and the way that his knuckles were becoming white, then putting two and two together and guessing that the odd way the prince's goblet kept changing shape wasn't supposed to be artistic and, therefore, was due to the prince's anger about being refused.
Hastily acquiescing, he sat in the chair the prince's quivering finger pointed at after he had made the mistake of mentioning how one of the paintings the decorated the room was of greatly inferior to the others in terms of, well just about everything. The gesture was accompanied by words from the prince. "Mr. Amaranth, would you be willing to do yourself a favor?" There had been a miniscule pause here, and as soon as Amaranth had opened his mouth to reply, Kylith, the prince, cut him off. "Sit in that chair over there, and do not speak unless told to, or a question is asked to you directly. It will save me the hardship of having to raise my voice, and you the hardship of having your tongue ripped out. Thank you." Through out this exchange Amaranth noticed the Seneschal making a show of hiding his expression of mirth behind his hand.
Kylith walked around the massive mahogany desk that occupied the center of the room, sitting down in the tall Spanish-style over-stuffed chair that sat behind it. Turning so that he faced Amaranth, he began to speak. The Sheriff, who had been standing in a corner cracking his knuckles while brooding darkly to this point, now took up a position behind and to the right of the Prince. His eyes bored into Amaranth with a mixture of distrust, loathing, and just plain old hatred.
"Let us start, Caitiff," said the Prince, "by assuming that you have just now walked into this room, and the past ten minutes did not happen. We have been formally introduced and can now get down to business." The Sheriff's eyes narrowed even more, to the point where Amaranth was no longer sure if they were open or closed. "You are here for a reason Amaranth. Can you guess what that is?"
Stupid question, he thought, but my guess is that it's so this bastard can try to use me in the Jyhad, like any elder worth his salt would. "No, sir, I can not," was his verbal response. He had acted the fool earlier, to get them all off guard, although he knew that the Seneschal hadn't been fooled, now it was time to see if he could get the prince to tell him what he wanted without agreeing to anything. Then he would only have to get the prince to give him something in return for doing it. That, he was sure, would be the hard part.
"Do you remember what you did four nights ago? It was impressive, and the Seneschal's childe seems to believe that you are a great fighter. Myself, I am not so easily convinced. But you broke the rules of Elysium by doing it."
"I do not understand sir. Surely the rules of Elysium do not apply to wolves?" So this was the game they were going to play.
"The rule of Elysium state that you may do nothing which could endanger the Masquerade there, even more so then the rest of the city, and fighting, for any reason, is quiet strictly prohibited. As the rules have been broken, I must make a punishment for you, else others follow in your foolish example."
"But…"
"Do not make excuses, fledgling." This came from the quarter of the Seneschal.
"Accept your duty boy." Snarled the sheriff.
Amaranth shook his head. So, he wouldn't be able to get the Prince to make others leave him alone. Indeed, he would not get anything for doing whatever they wanted apparently. He could have screamed with frustration.
"I am prepared to overlook your minor infringement however, if you would be willing to destroy a particularly troubling Assamite though. For reasons that do not concern you, my hand must not be evident in the death or disappearance of Yaquib Al'Aridish."
"And if I refuse to do your wet work?"
"I shall be forced to call a blood hunt down on you for endangering the Masquerade."
Amaranth stood and began to walk for the door. Kylith spoke when as his hand touched the door. "If you leave this room without giving me an answer, I shall be forced to call the hunt down."
Amaranth smiled as he opened the door. "I shall do as you request. But, it will take time. No, stay seated, I'll find my way out." Kylith started to respond, but the door was already swinging shut.
Α Δ Ω
All this was what had transpired to leave Amaranth trudging down the street, cursing his dealings with Kindred society. He knew that the Prince was hoping he would either die in this errand, or else do something stupid and succeed, giving the prince a chance to declare the hunt any way.
He could also sense the inexperienced Kindred who was following him. And, further back, he could sense the enemy that had started this whole mess, the Enigmas as he called them. He wasn't even sure if they were really enemies or not, now that he thought about it. His mind began to ponder that for a few moments.
It was because he was so preoccupied that he failed to notice the group of teenagers in the alley. He was only dimly aware of their conversation.
"Hey, is that him?"
"Yeah that's the one. Should we take him?"
"He took Gnaws-The-Bones' pack down without even being touched. It'll be tough." Amaranth's mind, still embroiled in figuring out what to do about the Enigmas, asked itself fuzzily what sort of person would be named Gnaws- The-Bones.
"Aww, they were incompetent Jessie, come on, let's give it a try…"
"Whip-Whip-Whip-Whipporwill-Whipporwill-Whip-Whip-Whipporwill!"
The cry of the ten Spiral Dancers was enough to startle Amaranth out of his thoughts, and the premonition of danger was enough to make him throw his body back and away from the cry. The end result of this hectic maneuver was that he rolled underneath the oncoming Mac truck while the misshapen shape that had come flying at him tore the truck apart.
Amaranth rolled into a crouch, his weight positioned so that he could easily spring in any direction. It would figure, he thought to himself, that he had gone to the princes armed only with a stiletto. His ten opponents were arrayed in a rough semicircle facing him, and they were all reaching for the biggest things they could find to hit him with.
The first one to get something into the fray picked up a dumpster and smashed it down on Amaranth. The second, third, fourth and fifth, ones worked together to pickup the cab of the Mac truck and smash it down on top of the dumpster, for which Amaranth was now exceedingly grateful, as it actually protected him from this assault.
The sixth one, the one who had torn the trailer in half, picked up the rear end of the trailer and smashed that into the large pile of scrap metal that was accumulating in the middle of the street as. Following his example one of the others chucked the front half of the trailer on. The other three tore out light posts and stuck them into the pile at odd angles.
As gasoline and oil leaked out of the Mac truck, the Spirals cavorted around in glee, cackling at their good fortune and how much of a wimp the leech had been. An almost colorless gas seeped out from the pile of misshapen metal.
One of the Spirals turned to the human shape that had remained in the alley. "Jessie, you are such a…" was as far as he got before a undead hand with razor-sharp claws for finger tips crashed through his back, and kept on going until the shoulder of the body it was attached to was inside the werewolf's body cavity.
"Pathetic." Said Amaranth. Then he smiled.
Author's Note: I just love a cliffhanger, don't you? Anyway, I apologize in advance if I overdid the humor. Say Thor, does the description of the battle make you happy? I know the other one was brief, but this one should be nice and long. Let me hear your view, please review.