Chapter 19: Battle

Summary: The title says it all

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When Angelo said that they were under attack, he had not been joking.

Dead men lied on the ground, stab wounds or arrows in every one of them.

Damon saw Montone's son.

He was on top of a white stallion, commanding the men. His black hair was disheveled and his blue eyes looked angry and wild.

He wanted Sforza dead, and there was no doubt in Damon's mind that he'd get his wish.

Montone certainly had the upper hand at the moment.

Most of the men on the ground were Damon's.

Damon charged into the fight, whacking off heads as he went. Nobody had time to touch him before they were dead on the ground. Vampiric strength and quickness had always served him well in battle.

Damon took a moment to see how things were going for his men.

There was one fighter, that was not on their side, who was plunging through his men as though it were effortless.

"You were not lying." Damon said, to Angelo.

"I told you. Montone's son has lost his mind." Angelo muttered.

Suddenly an arrow whizzed in between their heads.

Damon slowly turned his head in the direction that the arrow had come from.

The great fighter was aiming at them a second time. He let go and the arrow flew towards them again.

"Look out, Angelo." Damon shouted.

Angelo moved, but the arrow still went into his left arm.

Angelo yelled in pain.

The arrow had passed all the way through Angelo's arm.

Damon wasted no time, he broke the arrow and pulled it from Angelo's arms.

"Come on, Damon." Angelo was saying, "Get me back in this thing."

Damon wrapped his friends wound tightly.

"Thanks, doc." Angelo said with a smiled, and with that he ran back into the fight.

Damon did the same, killing every attacker who came his way. Once in a while he'd give his opponent the illusion that he was going to win, but quickly after that he came back and shattered their dreams. At his feet were at least twelve dead men.

He turned and looked at Angelo's progress, but Angelo was not behind him anymore.

Damon turned about, black eyes scanning.

Angelo was finishing off his last opponent.

Damon sighed with relief.

But then his senses became painfully aware of something askew.

Was this dying human going to make a come back and kill Angelo?

No it could not be that.

Damon felt out the presence where the bad thoughts were radiating.

It was coming from the great one. The fighter who'd killed ninety percent of their men.

Angelo stood and pulled his sword from the man's body.

He wiped the sweat from his forehead and then...the arrow entered his chest.

He blinked twice and looked down at his chest.

Then he was falling.

Damon ran to him.

This time the arrow had gone through a major artery and Damon could hear the effort it took for the artery to functions around the arrow.

"I guess..." Angelo choked, "This one isn't going to be so easily fixed."

Damon laughed, but it was a pained laugh.

"I really screwed up this time. I should have seen it coming." Angelo said, smiling.

"No, my friend, it's alright." Damon said, taking his hand, "Everyone's time comes eventually."

"Not yours." Angelo replied.

"What do you mean?" Damon asked.

"I don't know." Angelo laughed, "I just get the feeling...your time never will."

"Rest, Angelo." Damon said, "Don't fight...let go."

"Goodbye, my captain." Angelo winced, "I would have followed you to the end."

"You did." Damon smiled, "You served me well."

Then his friend leaned back and his brown eyes went flat.

Damon stood.

He did not know what was taking over. All he knew was that his best friend was dead and someone would pay.

He stalked towards the great one. Fists clinched, eyes locked.

The great one faltered. He flinched in fear. He quickly loaded his bow and let the arrow fly.

Damon caught the arrow before it hit him.

He fired again, with the same results.

He loaded a third, but it was too late.

Damon was there.

In one fast motion Damon seized him and tore out his throat with his teeth.

The great one's eyes bulged and then his slumped to the ground.

"You killed Angelo." Damon spat, "Your blood is too foul for even me to drink."

Damon looked around him.

He was the only one standing.

He looked over his shoulder.

Montone's son had made it to the top of the stairs and Sforza lay a his feet.

Dead.

For a moment Damon's eyes locked with his and they stared.

Respect on both their faces. Hunter for hunter.

Damon picked up his sword and sheathed it. There was nothing more to do. The battle had been fought and the winner was Montone.

Damon walked down the path that lead to town.

His time with the Free Company was at a close.