From Hell with Love (21 page)

Because of the bandage on his hand, his fingers slipped on wet bark and instead of catching hold, Niccolo fell like a ragdoll down the tree, his back, arms and legs taking each impact badly.  When he landed on the ground he felt ten different kinds of pain, but he knew he could not lay there.  Gherardini’s guards would likely pursue and kill him, no matter what Camilla could say to them.  Niccolo picked himself up, knowing that at least a few bones were broken, but that was not the worst of it.

A few bones were nothing compared to what he had just lost.

Chapter 7: Of Beasts and Demons

“What do you need, Andras?” Cadmus asked, tracing the hard line of his jaw with his thumb and hoping the owl
actually
had something for them.  Andras hopped on his scrawny legs and rotated his head so he could look at the reaper.

“Just your assistance on some matters down at the Pits,” he said before ruffling his feathers.

“What kind of matters?” Niccolo asked as he spurred Plague toward the War Quarter.  Whatever Andras had to offer them, it seemed they would have to visit Ajax and his mentor at the pavilion.

“Oh, a few wagers went poorly on my end,” Andras said as he hopped along with the Horsemen, his talons clicking along the cobblestones.  “I merely need your help in…winning the day’s tournament and getting me back on my feet, as it were.”

“You don’t have feet,” Niccolo said, not bothering to look at the demon with the owl’s shape.  That did not stop Andras from gasping and fluttering his wings.

“That is a matter of
choice
, Horseman!  I could have feet if I wanted.  I just have always enjoyed the owl.  They’re wise, you know,” he said, his voice taking on a tone of austerity.

“So you’re saying you like to pretend,” the leper teased, looking at Cadmus on Andras’ other side.  The reaper stifled a laugh, but Niccolo could see the slight turn in his lips.

“Mere wit will not help you, Horseman, especially if you want to save your precious father figure.  Tell me, Niccolo, what is it like to have the ruler of Hell pandering to your every wish?  I assume it must be great to look up to daddy Lucifer,” Andras mused, his mockery making Niccolo’s eye twitch.

“He’s not my
daddy
, Andras, and you might want to have some respect for the man.”

“Man?” Andras asked, devolving into a series of hoots which meant the demon was laughing.  “You forget what kind of
thing
you’re dealing with.  Lucifer is no more a man than the horses you are riding on.  In fact,” Andras said as he looked to Plague and Mercy, “we might have more in common with these beasts of yours.”

“So you want us to win a tournament for you?” Cadmus interrupted, drawing the attention of the owl.

“Yes, some of the creatures in the War Quarter are getting unruly, along with some of the lesser humans, so they’re having a big slaughter to commemorate the meeting of the Council.  Eligos is hoping a bloodletting will allow us all to get back to business.”

“Slaughter?” Niccolo asked, which caused Andras to twitch.

“Oh, they’re
calling
it a tournament, but there will be plenty of blood.  Just you wait.  In fact, if you wish to know more about what
I
know, you’ll be responsible for quite a bit of it.”

“How do we know that you can tell us anything that we
don’t
know?” Cadmus asked, looking over the owl with suspicion.  “Why should we help you with your debts?”

“You want to know what Valefor was doing.  You want to know who you should talk to before the Council starts.  You want to know who might want Lucifer dead, and once you know that, you want to know how to stop them,” Andras said before flitting ahead and continuing to walk, his talons clicking away at the pavement.  He shocked both of the Horsemen by turning his head around completely and continuing their conversation.  “It’s quite obvious, and luckily I’m in the business of information.  You scratch my back and I will scratch yours.”

“Why can’t you just tell us?  Lucifer is your ruler, too,” Niccolo suggested, which brought a short hoot from the demon.

“
I
didn’t elect him, and it doesn’t much matter since the end is nigh and all of that business.  Besides, the two of you can help fill my coffers and get me back into the higher social circles.  I see no reason why I can’t make some money off of this and, besides, a man must eat.”

“It’s been quite a few years since you’ve been a man
or
had to eat, Andras,” Cadmus remarked, which caused the demon to turn around his body to match his head, ruffling his feathers in mock indignation.

“See, I like you, this is why I’m going to help.  But first, you have to help me,” he said before violently shaking and hocking up a small rodent.  After a few breaths he looked back at Cadmus with a look of pleasure.  “And I don’t need to eat; I just like how it feels.”

“If we fight for you, you’ll tell us everything?” Niccolo asked, Andras looking back at him with a smile in his eyes.

“Well, of course!  If you make me rich again, I will tell you all you need to hear!”  The Horsemen shook their heads at the bird’s antics, but continued to ride toward the War Quarter.  It was impossible to trust Andras, but from time to time he could prove useful.

As they walked away, none of them noticed the scrawny, grey shape that followed after them.

***

The pavilion was sprawling, almost a square mile, but the Horsemen could hear the screams of dying animals before they reached the outskirts.  Eligos had set up his tents thousands of years ago and on a lark had created fighting pits right in the center.  Over the millennia, his pavilion had proven to be the main source of entertainment in Hell and more pits had to be created as interest increased.  Eligos had finally put a limit at twelve arenas, but by then the pavilion had covered a third of the War Quarter.

Due to the tournament, the entire pavilion was packed with demons trying to fight or bet on the matches.  The only reason Niccolo, Cadmus and Andras were able to pass through the crowds was because they were Horsemen, but it was still difficult.  They had dismissed Plague and Mercy at the edge of the camp, but even then they had to fight their way past fallen and former humans alike.

When they reached the first pit, Niccolo almost could not breathe because of the stench.  In the pit, burly janitors were sweeping up the remains of a hellhound and a war elephant and their flesh seemed to be decomposing already.  Niccolo tried to ignore the smell and turned to Cadmus and Andras, who were speaking with Bifrons, one of the organizers of the tournament.

“Andras, you know your money hasn’t been good here for a century,” the demon grumbled, his voice gravelly as if he was grinding two stones together.  That was due to his face being made up of different minerals and rocks, just like the rest of his body, which was decorated by vines and undergrowth that had sprouted throughout the cracks.  Since Bifrons had been in Hell for three thousand years, Niccolo could only assume the demon liked it that way.

“I’m asking for credit, old friend,” Andras pleaded, causing the stone demon to rumble with laughter.

“That’s even
worse
, Andras.  Look, just enjoy the show, we got a few demon pups taking on a trio of Claws in just a moment,” Bifrons rumbled as he turned to take a tall, gangly demon’s bag of coins.  “On the Claws?” he asked, to which the tall demon, completely covered in a red and black robe, nodded.

“A line of credit!  I only ask for half.  My entrants will more than make up for your money, I swear!” Andras shouted, grabbing at one of the vines hanging from Bifrons’ arm.

“Someone’s fighting
for
you?  Who’d be that stupid?”

“Um,” Cadmus volunteered, eventually tapping his scythe on the ground.  Bifrons looked up and furrowed his brow at the reaper.

“Oh, I
hope
you’re kidding,” he said, his shoulders slouching after the realization.  Niccolo made his way over to his friend’s side, narrowly avoiding the snap of a hellhound’s bite, and then put his right hand on the reaper’s shoulder.

“Both of us.  Andras has a silver tongue,” he said with a smile, but Bifrons did not look amused.  The living stone just turned his gaze down to the owl a third his size.

“They’re Horsemen, Andras.  They can’t be part of this,” he said, but Andras just flapped his wings and settled on Cadmus' scythe.

“That’s absurd!  You’re letting plenty of humans fight!”

“They’re not
Horsemen
, Andras.  That would be rigging the game,” he said before walking up to them, the shifting of his body causing pebbles to fall.  Andras just ruffled his feathers and pointed to his left with a wing.

“Are you kidding?  Seere fights in the pits every day!  They’re just humans!”

“What if they
die
, Andras?  Lucifer would have my head if these two don’t make it out,” Bifrons said, crossing his arms, but Andras just jumped down and held onto the demon’s arms with his talons.

“If they die in a little tournament, they don’t deserve to be Horsemen, Bifrons!  C’mon, stop this nonsense!  I heard Mammon’s fighting, too!  If the Hellborn can fight, so can they!” Andras shouted, which prompted the stone demon to grab him by the collar and then threw him into Niccolo’s arms.

“Quiet, you bastard!  Fine, if it stops you from making a scene, you can enter them in, but if
any
of this comes back to me, you’re not using the Pits again, you hear me?” Bifrons asked in a hushed tone, to which all three nodded.

“Mammon’s fighting?” Niccolo asked, causing the demonic owl in his arms to squirm so that he could look at him.

“Thought you’d like that!  See?  It’s not like I’m the only one who gains something from this,” Andras exclaimed before jumping out of Niccolo’s arms and landing on the ground.

“You should have led with that,” Cadmus said before running his hand along the edge of his scythe.  Andras only preened his feathers before looking back up.

“Oh, you and I both know one should always keep a trump card.  Anyway,” the owl said before looking at the stone demon, “when can they start?”

“Well,” Bifrons grumbled before looking down at his sheet, “I guess they can go after this one.  Should be a quick fight; most humans don’t deal with the Claws too well.”

“Excellent,” Andras said before hopping around and looking back at the Horsemen, “just stretch or something, whatever you Horsemen do, and then we’ll get this all started.”

“Whatever,” Niccolo muttered before looking into the pit.  The construct was about fifteen feet deep and lined with wooden planks to keep the dirt from sliding in.  While the four of them were talking, two lightly-armored demons had entered the arena and were beating their chests, confident in their abilities.  Niccolo looked at the two men and smiled, realizing they had only been in Hell for a few years; one had the snout of a pig and the other man had likely not changed his appearance at all.  The Claws would make short work of them.

“Hah, does this remind you of anything?” Niccolo asked the reaper by his side.  He was still smiling when he looked over at the reaper, who was a little more pale than usual.  “Cadmus, you alright?”

“Oh,” Cadmus snapped awake, the question freeing him from his memories.  “Yeah, yeah it does remind me of something.  I think that’s the problem.”

“Aww,” Niccolo said as he threw his arm around the man’s cloaked shoulders, “don’t worry.  We’re gonna be fine down there.  Hell, unless we come up against Mammon or Seere, this might just be fun.”

“Nico, you…it’s not something I can just
get over
.  It’s how I…died,” Cadmus said as he gripped his scythe tightly, but Niccolo shook the man’s entire body before glaring at him.

“Cadmus. 
Buddy
.  You were a damn good gladiator before you got torn apart by lions.  Probably not a fond memory, but nothing to be ashamed of.  Now you know the pros and cons of being a Christian.  And if you don’t remember, we just got rid of the granddaddy of all those big cats, so buck up,” he said before lifting the reaper’s chin by tapping it with his diseased hand.  “Besides, you’re now one of the most feared humans who ever lived.  Who
cares
how you died?”

“You’re a child,” Cadmus said, staring at the men shouting out their bravado in the blood-soaked dirt.

“And you’re a grandpa, but you’re my grandpa,” Niccolo said with a grin, but Cadmus just shook his head at that.

“That’s far too disturbing on too many levels,” he said before shrugging off Niccolo’s arm, the leper playing at being offended.

“And why is
that
?” he asked, crossing his arms and looking at the men below, who were preparing for the animals which were already pushing against the gate to the pit.

“We lived in the same area, more or less.  I might
actually
be related to you,” Cadmus said, keeping his eyes on the metal bars that rose up to let the Claws into the pit.  Niccolo scoffed at the ridiculous statement, but did not look at his friend.

“Congratulations, you just made it weird,” he said, but his voice was drowned out by the cheers of a hundred demonic spectators.  The first Claw made its way into the pit, its pincers clacking as it threatened the demons watching it with fear, their confidence eradicated by the reality of the situation.  It was a fearsome beast, a demonic cousin of a crab, but it was the size of a bear and spikes jutted out of its shell in deadly patterns.  While it normally resided in the lava flows around the edge of the War Quarter, the pit masters used them for gladiator matches and outfitted them with certain “improvements.”  Whenever a Claw killed the gladiator it was fighting, the masters would flense the skin of the demon and drape it over the beast, creating an animal best reserved for nightmares.

In a flash, the Claw, which had five very human-like faces draped over its mouth, rushed toward the demon with the pig snout.  The warrior trembled at the sight, but when the crab was within striking range, he finally reacted, rolling underneath the creature’s deadly claws.  He brought down his hammer with a great deal of force, which cracked the hellish chitin, but almost immediately his head turned skyward and he shouted in pain.  The Claw had raised one of its legs and brought it down on the young demon’s foot, which provided little resistance for the dagger-sharp leg.