CHAPTER 13: In which there is a battle of nobles, princes, kings and emperors.
Chaos reigned in Murderella's home. One of her guards was leaping over furnishings and climbing up walls, pursued by three of the Imperial guards carrying bayonets. Simultaneously, racing in the opposing direction, Humongous chased down a guard, his weapon an ornate ewer full of Greek Fire he was intent on dousing over the man. A cavalryman rode his horse up the stairs, swinging his saber at nothing.
Beast fought with the three Bonaparte brothers who were present. He was outnumbered, but to his advantage he was a rather large fellow, which was not something that could be said about any of the Bonapartes. The tallest of them was around Belle's size. The goal of the Bonapartes was to grab and hold Beast for a beheading — one of the few ways to kill an immortal. Beast's intention was to neutralize the Bonapartes.
Meanwhile, Murderella flat out wanted to kill any and all Bonapartes, especially Napoleon. Her friend the Beast being in their midst was complicating what should have otherwise been an easy undertaking for her. She was unaware of his immortality — she was merely happily surprised to see him still living, and she wished to keep him that way. Bonapartes had such a way of leaving corpses behind them.
Jerome and Napoleon each gripped one of Beast's arms and slowly pulled him down backwards, striving to topple him to the floor. Beast struggled to maintain his balance. Lucien kicked him in the leg, sending him into a hard fall. The Corsicans pounced upon him, endeavoring to keep him pinned supine. Jerome was nearest to his face.
"Jerome," barked Napoleon, "put his eyes out! That will keep him from getting away!"
Beast heard this and almost screamed. He immediately turned his face away from the men, shutting his eyes as tight as he could and burying his face against the floor. They'd already taken two of his fingers, now they wanted his eyes! He felt Jerome grab him by the hair, trying to turn his head.
There was the woosh-BANG of a flintlock's fire. Jerome suddenly relented, and Beast felt a sprinkle of warm blood across his cheek.
Jerome was not killed, but Murderella had hit him in the arm with a bullet. She was already grabbing her next gun so she could fire again. Jerome's instinct was to flee away from the source of danger, releasing Beast as he rolled off.
One less person on Beast's chest meant he could shoot up like a rocket and swing his new-freed right fist at Napoleon. The Emperor was clocked in the face.
Weapon-wielding Murderella didn't want to shoot again when everyone was moving around so much, but she kept her gun drawn as she stepped to defend her friend.
Wounded Jerome hurried to rip some cloth from his shirt for a makeshift bandage. An upward glance caused him to observe Luigi reentering with an armful of sabers. He would need to get past Murderella to be able to deposit them with his brothers. Currently the Marquise was blocking his way, though she had not yet seen him.
Beast in the meantime tried to free himself from under Napoleon and Lucien. Arching his back suddenly, he was able to topple the pair as they sat on him. Fast, he swung out from under them and went rolling in Murderella's direction.
With Beast out of the line of fire, Murderella blasted her gun toward Napoleon. She had the unlucky but not uncommon result of a dud charge fizzling instead of banging. Mad, she threw away the useless weapon and reached for one of her remaining chest-gems.
Napoleon and Lucien were hurrying to their feet. Murderella was the most dangerous person around, and she suddenly became their new target.
Behind Murderella was Luigi, who, like Zeus dropping a crash of lightning bolts, let fall all but one of the sabers. She turned at the noise.
Napoleon and Lucien together rushed at Murderella. Just as she would have shot at Napoleon, Luigi jumped her from behind. He reached round and hit her in the face with the hilt of his saber and his boot made a clang with the metal of her corset as he knocked her down.
Murderella landed face-downward on the floor and had barely realized as much before a Bonaparte boot crashed down on her skull. Everything went dark in her world.
Beast was on the ground only a few inches from this event, and his response was to seize Lucien Bonaparte, the culprit, by the legs and throw him down, thus protecting Murderella from being stomped again. This meant it was now Beast who got a boot to the face from neighboring Napoleon. Beast released Lucien and fell backwards with his nose crushed.
The instant he opened his eyes he saw the blade coming towards him. He had to throw himself into a roll like his life depended on it, which it certainly did. The saber blade struck the floor where his head would have been. Beast realized just how dire things had grown.
Continuing his roll, Beast went to the injured Jerome and grabbed him to use as a shield against his brother's sword. Luigi saw this and did indeed refrain from swinging.
"She's still alive," said Luigi. He took a step back towards the unconscious Murderella on the floor, and lifted his sword over her. "Let Jerome go, and I'll let her live."
Luigi was posed to strike off the head of the unconscious Marquise. Meanwhile, Napoleon and Lucien had observed the other sabers on the floor and were hastening to retrieve blades for their personal use.
Beast relented and let go of Jerome, pushing him away. He knew there wasn't time to waste; he sprang to his feet and leapt over the balustrade of the steps, falling about fifteen feet down to the ground floor. He landed on his feet, albeit with some shock; and he instantly bolted for an escape out the door.
Grey-coated Bonapartes raced after him, each one with a saber in hand.
Meanwhile, Gutslasher on the third floor swung from a chandelier to escape a gaggle of Imperial guardsmen, and Humongous punched a hole in the wall to break out a cache of guns hidden within.
Outside the mansion, Mantua Gargantua manned her assigned spot, as Pream did his; but both of the sentinels could hear the commotion within the building, and were beginning to doubt if guarding the gates was still their best mode d'emploi.
As Beast lunged for the front door, another body leapt out and tackled him to the floor. It was an Imperial guard. Per orders, the man used no bullets, and sought only to detain the strawberry blond.
On the ground, Beast found his arms pinned behind his back. He thrashed, striving to wriggle his way out of the grip.
The Bonapartes soon gathered around him. Napoleon gave his compliments to the guard. "Don't let him escape," he said, his Corsican accent somehow softening the severity of the command.
The Bonapartes, swords in hand, were all ready to start hacking him apart. In desperation the Beast kicked back behind him, booting the guard in the shin with all his strength. The guard responded to the affront by a grunt followed with simply by twisting his arms the harder.
You can bet the Beast resisted these endeavors with all his might, knowing perfectly well what was to happen if he submitted. Head of Orpheus — live head with no body — his worst nightmare, arguably worse than even an eternity in the oubliette, for an oubliette at least offered some hope of escape.
The front door was about ten feet from them. Through it came bursting Pream and Gargantua, the pair of runts having united in their decision to join the indoor fray.
Gargantua still didn't know about the rediscovery of Beast; but she could see that she had just opened the door upon several Bonapartes, and she with her parasol-gun blasted the easiest mark. That was young Jerome, already injured and ripe to be taken out.
Gargantua's shortness meant Jerome was hit in the abdomen. The former King of Westphalia dropped his saber and crumpled to the ground, groaning.
Gargantua immediately switched her utilization of the fired-out parasol to that of a bludgeon. She leapt at Napoleon with it.
At the same time Pream flipped his cane round and nailed the Imperial guard in the face with its steel handle. It jarred the man enough that Beast wriggled out of his grip.
"Beast!" cried Pream urgently, "Head upstairs! I'll cover you!"
Beast began to run for the stairs. Pream, stick flipped back for rifle use, followed close behind him, ready to shoot anyone who pursued.
Napoleon, Lucien and Luigi held back, distracted now by Gargantua's violent attack and needing to reconfigure their plans.
The mansion floors were strewn with an arsenal's worth of spent pistols. The tumult of the house included what sounded like an explosion coming from a distant room. As Beast and Pream made their way upwards, the former asked over the roar, "Where are we headed?"
"The roof," said Pream.
"We're going to the roof?" cried Beast. "But wouldn't that be the worst place to go?"
"If your plan is to escape," said Pream, "then yes. But our goal here is not a flight. You are inside of an elaborate trap that's been laid for Napoleon over the course of weeks."
Beast didn't need to ask why they'd want to take out Napoleon. "Did you see Belle? Is she safe?"
"She and your servants took Joseph Bonaparte hostage, I think they're turning him over to the British."
That was not the answer Beast expected, but at least he was being kept informed.
"By the way," added Pream, briefly jumping as if ready to fire his gun at some oncomer but then thinking better of it, "I should maybe mention, when we thought you were dead, Belle and I might have… done some stuff."
"'Done some stuff?'" asked Beast, not sure of the meaning and not really having the capacity to think too hard on it, given the situation.
The two men were suddenly rushed by an Imperial guard bearing a bayonet. Beast was able to swing his grip underneath the flat side of the blade and force it back, then twist the attacker's arm till it cracked. Like fighting wolves — these were the sort of attacks he was good with.
They were on the third floor. Gutslasher spotted them from a distance. His armor looked pretty dented. "Pream!" he called, booting a guard in the guts. "And — Beast? Is that you?"
"Turns out he didn't die!" said Pream.
"Uh, actually — I did," corrected Beast, but without elaborating.
"Well. Good to have you back," said Gutslasher, hurriedly. "We have the Fiend in our grasp. You will want to fight. We must get you guns."
The exchange was interrupted when Pream was obliged to fire off his rifle at something coming up the stairs. Whatever it was, it fired back. Pream fell in a burst of blood.
"Pream!" cried Gutslasher. He and Beast hurried to Pream's side.
Too late to do anything for Pream. An ugly hole stared back from his forehead. He was dead.
Beast and Gutslasher turned to see the culprit: Luigi Bonaparte, discarding his spent pistol and a fresh one already in his opposite hand. The wide collar of his redingote still smoked from where Pream had shot him, but not stopped him.
Lucien was behind him with sabers at ready. They were walking up the steps at a slow pace, prepared for whatever might come at them.
On the ground floor, Gargantua hadn't fared better than Pream. Napoleon hastened up the stairs toward his brothers, shaking blood from his saber. Gargantua's tiny body lay behind him in a crimson puddle.
The mansion was growing more quiet: Humongous, Gutslasher and Murderella's guards had made pretty good work of the Imperial guardsmen. There were not many remaining to fight. Napoleon was largely undefended, but the Corsican Fiend didn't need so much help as might be supposed.
Beast saw the Emperor ascending the stairs behind the others. He swung his gaze to Gutslasher. "A shield!" he cried. He absolutely needed a shield if he was going to escape a saber blow.
Gutslasher looked around for anything suitable. Murderella had set up the house more for offense than defense. Gutslasher pulled off his own armored epaulette and gave it to Beast. It was small, but it was something.
"We'll go to the roof," said Gutslasher, gesturing.
Now it was Beast covering for Gutslasher — and as they moved, it dawned on the poor Prince that he should have never allowed the mortal Pream to stand in danger for him, but ought to have taken bullets he knew he could survive and heal from. Too late now; and no time to mourn.
The two worked their way upstairs, the Bonapartes following showily and steadily. Suddenly both Napoleon and Lucien rushed forward with their swords, one at each side of Beast. Both swung. Beast could only evade the dual blades by falling to the floor.
Raising his miniature shield over his head to protect himself, he heard it clang with a strike from someone.
A whoosh-BANG came suddenly from Luigi's gun. The bullet hit Beast directly in the heart. What blood he had left came rushing out.
"Get him now," said Luigi. "When he's out, he can't fight."
This wound was bad. Beast realized he was going to know another of his little deaths from this… and he would indeed be very easy to behead when he was unconscious.
Desperately, Beast knocked Napoleon to the floor, whilst spinning himself round to face Gutslasher.
"Gutslasher!" he called, fighting the darkness from his vision, "No matter what happens, presume I am still alive. You hear me? No matter what!"
With all his dwindling energy, Beast leapt behind Gutslasher for protection. He collapsed into a very dead looking heap.
Gutslasher thought Beast pretty well past help, but he honored the request. Besides, he had the Bonapartes just a few feet in front of him. The Comte drew his gun and without time to really aim, fired at the floored Napoleon point-blank, hitting the man in the left shoulder. The Emperor let out a cry. In automatic retaliation he swung his saber at Gutslasher and nailed the Comte in the thigh. The blade didn't slice all the way through, but the Comte wasn't going to be practicing parkour after such a wound.
Lucien instantly swung his saber for Gutslasher as the bigger threat, ignoring the currently-dead Beast. The two live ones began to grapple over the blade, injured Gutslasher being in the clear disadvantage. Meanwhile, Napoleon made some hasty efforts to plug his own wound.
Luigi was the one left to deal with Beast. He drew the blade, intending to go for the passed-out Prince.
A woosh-BANG behind him struck his blade and knocked the sword from his hand in a burst of sparks. Luigi turned to see who was the culprit.
Murderella, face bloodied, head split open, eyes bloodshot and certainly blind on one side, tossed away her last gun. She was alive, whatever her condition: and huffing smelling salts like a champ.
Now she was coming for Luigi. Those huge-ass arms of her still operated just fine.
With a cry, Murderella lunged at the ex-King of Holland.
As the skirmishes went on, Beast came twitching back to life. He fell to the ground in
the initial confusion as soul and brain reconnected, unsure where he was or what he was. People around. He was injured. He was… fighting?
Beast felt the thoughts clicking together in his mind. Everyone wanted to get to the roof. There was a plan, Pream had said. Run to the roof.
Beast said nothing as he sprang to his feet. He hated to abandon his friends but he had a feeling this was the thing he needed to do. He began to ascend the stairs like a squirrel bolts up a tree.
Observing the last Capet fleeing from them, Luigi and Lucien abandoned the fights with Murderella and Gutslasher to pursue the Prince.
The grand staircase terminated on a sparse-furnished upper floor that led to a windowed door. That door led outside to a railed roofwalk. Beast went out. He looked around. There was a ladder leading to the very top of the mansard roof. He climbed up it, not knowing what he would find.
On the top was revealed the Duc de Humongous, waiting with an absolute arsenal of guns he had brought. His rouge had been smeared during his earlier brawl.
"WHAT WAS TAKING SO LONG?" asked Humongous, casual as ever. "I ALMOST GAVE UP."
"I don't know," said Beast, exhausted. "I'm alive. Pream's dead, I think Gargantua too —"
"SHIT!" said Humongous, leaping to the arsenal. Real pain flashed across his face, but he quickly pushed it aside. "WE NEEDED THEM AS SNIPERS."
"I am in the dark about the plan, myself," said the Prince breathlessly.
"IT'S KILL ALL THE BONAPARTES."
Simple enough.
The original plan had been that Humongous would be on the roof, Gutslasher and Murderella would lure the Bonapartes up there, and Pream and Gargantua would stay below to shoot at the targets from a distance, once they were exposed. But plans will fall through, as so often they do. Nobody had imagined the Prince would reappear as an alternate Bonaparte target.
A moment later it could be heard: men coming to the roof. Beast knew he needed to defend; but he was unfamiliar with most of the available weapons. Even the guns were beyond his current capabilities. He felt shamefully incompetent, especially having come this far.
Humongous leapt to the edge with a pistol in each hand and immediately shot downward. Whoosh-BANG. Whoosh-BANG. Instantly he withdrew to take up a new weapon. Nobody had time to reload; this wasn't the military that shot in volleys. The young Duc suddenly thought of a better idea — a bow and arrow. Less time needed between shots, and, outdoors, there was enough room to maneuver such a contraption.
The Duc retrieved a bow and arrow from the arsenal and hurried to the roof's edge, taking aim for the targets below. He was surprised to instead take a bullet himself. It burst through his right wrist. The nineteen year old roared in agony.
"Humongous!" cried the Prince, hurrying to attend him. "Are you alright?"
"NOT SHOOTING WITH THAT HAND ANYMORE," answered the anguished Duc, shielding the injury by folding it up in his abdomen.
Beast wasn't happy about this. He looked quickly over the roof. The culprits were, of course, the interminable Lucien and Luigi. They were throwing down the sabers to prepare for a full-on firefight, apparently re-armed to their own satisfaction.
Beast bared his teeth at them. "Is it only the two of them?" he asked Humongous.
"YES, JUST TWO," said Humongous, agony apparent in his voice. He took a perfumed handkerchief from his coat and began delicately dabbing at the grisly wound the bullet had left in him.
The Beast made some calculations. "I can handle just two by myself." He looked with worry at his damaged left hand. "I just need to keep a firm grip."
Without any other word, he slid down the ladder. Lucien and Luigi immediately reached to retrieve their discarded swords, intending to start on him again; but to their surprise the Prince reached out and seized them both by the arms, gripping as tight as he could.
The two Bonapartes were confounded at first. Then they realized the Prince was pulling them to the railing, with its five story drop to the pavement.
Clinging to the would-be assassins firm as he'd ever clung to Belle, Beast threw himself over the rail. The unfortunate Corsicans were dragged with him to be shattered on the ground below.
…