From Hell with Love (52 page)

“C’mon, Ajax,” Niccolo said, raising his knee and setting his foot down to push himself to his feet.  Swaying from the effort, the leper was still able to smile and tease his opponent.  “I just wanted to make it interesting.”

“You’ll have to try more than that,” Ajax said, stopping a twenty yards away from him.  He then looked at Niccolo’s bow lying on the ground and nodded toward it.  “Go ahead.  Fighting an unarmed opponent isn’t worth it.”  Niccolo huffed at that, but continued smiling as he bowed and then stood back up with a flourish.  He lazily walked over to the bow and grabbed the twisted wood, not bothering to look as the weapon re-strung itself, instead watching the armored warrior in front of him.

“Then let’s just finish this, Ajax.  Go all the way,” Niccolo said before stepping forward and summoning Plague, the green mist spreading out beneath him and then raising him up.  Ajax watched his display and shook his head before laughing, setting the point of his massive sword into the ground at his feet.

“You’re going to joust me, little Nico?  With a goddamned
bow
and
arrow
?” he asked, drawing a shrug from the leper.

“Unless you think it’s unfair for you to be so outmatched,” Niccolo said, a growl coming from the armored legend before he jumped ten feet straight into the air.

“Fury, to me!” the warrior shouted, a mass of red muscle and blood creating a form beneath him.  The red skin of his horse wrapped around the bundles of tissue and fell with him, its legs slamming into the ground before Fury was finished with his manifestation.  Ajax held his sword out to the side and waited as the red horse walked forward and completed its formation, huffing out air from its nostrils as the beast shook its head, spare blood flicking away from its black mane.  Niccolo could feel Plague sympathizing with the creature, but they both knew this battle was no place for that.

“C’mon then,” Niccolo said before pulling a pair of arrows from his quiver, holding one between his index finger and middle and the other between his ring finger and pinky.  Plague burst into a gallop just as he nocked the first arrow and pulled the string back, the tension almost enough to make him lose his grip on the second arrow.

Time seemed to slow down as the Horsemen bore down on each other and Niccolo could barely tell that Ajax was screaming his war cry.  All he heard were the percussive strikes of Plague’s hooves against the cobblestones and his own, labored breathing.  He cleared his mind and summoned all of the strength he held, calling on all the souls he had ended.  Suddenly it was too much and Niccolo was unable to keep the tense string from snapping back, sending an arrow screaming toward the approaching Horseman.  He watched the arrow along its flight, absent-mindedly flicking the arrow in his others fingers up between his index and middle and catching it, and found there was a stream of green energy flowing along its path, unlike the red from when he had called on Valefor’s power.

The arrow crashed into the hilt of Ajax’s blade, sending a visible shockwave through the air and causing the warrior to drop his weapon to the ground, dragging it along as Fury rode ahead.  Niccolo did not bother to gape in wonder and pulled back the string again, focusing on the armored Horseman’s throat and letting the arrow fly.  This time there was no light surrounding the missile and, even though it flew toward its target with deadly accuracy, Niccolo found that it did not have the desired effect.  Ajax was able to bring up his gauntleted left hand up to block the arrow and, instead of sinking into the warrior’s throat, it impaled his hand, making the warrior roar in anger.

Niccolo cursed as they passed each other, ducking under Ajax’s right arm, which he had tried to throw into the leper’s face.  They rode past each other and Niccolo grabbed three arrows from his quiver, hoping that he could somehow summon that green energy once more, but when Plague turned and Niccolo drew back the string, he was interrupted by a shout from his fellow Horseman.

“NICCOLO!” Cadmus shouted, his voice strained from the effort, and Niccolo turned his attention to the pair dueling on Ajax’s other side.  Cadmus was on Mercy, pointing at a grotesque creature hanging in the sky.  Though Niccolo would have preferred to focus on his own enemy, he knew that Cadmus would not have called for his help if he did not absolutely need it.  Niccolo aimed at the flying creature and could not stop his thoughts from falling back to all of those shared years. 

There was no way he would abandon his best friend.

***

Cadmus was still pointing at Amon when Niccolo loosed the trio of arrows, and was shocked to see them scream toward the twisted demon hanging in the air, bursting through the front of its abdomen and leaving a green trail of energy behind them.  Amon screamed at the pain, his demonic bowels falling out of his ruptured torso, but Cadmus knew that the shock would only last for a moment.  Summoning his own strength, the reaper drew back his arm and gripped the handle tightly before sending it forward in a spinning arc.  Though lacking the spectacle of Niccolo’s newfound power, the scythe carved through the air, whistling as it turned vertically end over end.

Amon reacted as fast as he could, recovering from the pain of being disemboweled by a man he could not predict, but when he brought his talons forward to knock away Cadmus’ scythe, the sharp edge cut through the calcified nails like they were nothing and continued on its path.  The demon yelped as the scythe cut into the double shoulder on his right, causing him to close his eyes instinctually.

Cadmus did not waste the opportunity he was given and had spurred Mercy on before the scythe had even landed.  The white horse was already galloping toward their enemy when Cadmus urged Mercy to jump, the horse obeying instantly.  They flew through the air, Mercy’s powerful legs sending them to even greater heights than Cadmus thought they would, but it was still not high enough to reach the fallen angel.

Without a moment of hesitation, Cadmus brought up his legs to Mercy’s saddle and pushed, rocketing himself even higher.  The cloaked Horseman flew toward the demon and noticed Amon’s eyes were opening just as Cadmus’ fingers wrapped around the handle.  They opened even wider once Cadmus pulled down with all of his might, the dormant power in him bursting through his veins and nerves.

The reaper fell down to the ground followed by a shower of blood and gore, complemented by the wet thump of Amon’s right wing and underdeveloped right arm smacking against the floor.  Cadmus, not even thinking about how he had landed from such a fall without the slightest bit of harm, slowly stood up and turned to find the ruined body of Amon had landed ten feet away, its legs broken and lying at unnatural angles.

“Impossible,” Amon whimpered as he tried to rise up, using his sole wing to gain purchase and heave himself to a kneeling position.  Cadmus just walked forward, his scythe held out to his right side, and gritted his teeth.

“This didn’t have to happen, Amon,” he said, watching as the demon turned to face him, its lipless face twisted in pain.  “We were just trying to move on.”

“Then do it, Horseman.  I’ll avenge my brother some other time,” Amon growled, gathering his guts back into his abdomen with his left arm.  Cadmus stopped two feet away from the demon before bringing his scythe up along Amon’s left side, relieving the fallen angel of the arms he still had.  The wolf hybrid howled in pain, looking down for a moment before looking back to the Pale Rider.

“You’ve wasted all the time you’re going to have, Amon,” Cadmus said before grabbing his scythe with both hands and drawing his weapon behind him, seeing the panic spreading through Amon’s face.

“Wait!” he shouted, but Cadmus had already started the blade on its path.  With absolutely no effort, Cadmus’ blue-tinged scythe ripped through the flesh of the fallen’s neck, separating Amon’s head from his body. 

Cadmus was prepared for the new onslaught of thoughts and power from Amon’s soul and braced his palm against the side of his head, only shaking slightly as Amon’s past and future memories flickered past him in a blue haze.  With one memory in particular, Cadmus knew they had no more time to waste and ran forward, sending a telepathic cue to Mercy, who was already starting to gallop behind him.

He jumped, clearing the distance between Mercy’s saddle and the ground with a light push from his feet, and settled in for the last ride he would make to the palace.

***

Niccolo looked down from the vibrating string just in time to feel the iron chain settle around his back and yank him out of his saddle, causing him to throw his black bow toward the steps leading to the palace.  He cursed as he pushed himself off the ground, getting tired of Ajax’s antics, but he was not the only one getting frustrated.

“Don’t you EVER take your eyes off me again, Nico,” Ajax said, his face almost as red as the armor he wore, and then dropped the heavy chain that he had been holding.  He stalked toward Niccolo, which made the leper just a little nervous.

“I thought you wouldn’t fight me unarmed,” Niccolo said, wondering if he had enough time to reform his blade, but when Ajax ripped the chain from around his right gauntlet, he knew exactly what the Horseman wanted.

“Do you see any
goddamned
weapons?  Now fight me like a warrior, Niccolo.  Don’t let me down, now,” Ajax said before closing the distance and aiming a right cross toward his opponent.  Niccolo ducked to his left side and brought up his own hands just in time for Ajax’s forearm to slam against his right arm.

“Are you really…this fucking dense, Ajax?” Niccolo asked at the same time as he threw the claws of his left hand against the crimson armor of the warrior’s torso, tearing deep gashes with two of his fingers.  “We can stop fighting at any time.”

“But WHY?!” Ajax shouted before twisting his entire body and slamming his left hand into Niccolo’s face, causing the leper to stagger backward, his mind retreating to a dark place.  He was saved from falling by Ajax wrapping his massive arms around him in a bear hug, keeping his arms pinned to his sides.  “When it’s just getting
interesting
?”

Niccolo cried out as Ajax pulled his arms closer together, causing Niccolo’s ribs to creak under the effort, the scales of his own armor digging into his skin.  In desperation, the leper looked down and threw his head forward, trying to break the legendary warrior’s nose with his forehead.

He succeeded, but instead of being stunned, Ajax grunted, furrowed his brow and then threw his own head forward, cracking Niccolo’s nose in return.  Dazed by the pain, Niccolo was only brought back to reality by Ajax squeezing even harder, smiling as he saw Niccolo’s face twisting in pain.

“Is that it, Nico?  I expected more,” Ajax teased, his breath strained a bit by the effort of constricting his opponent.  Niccolo was running out of breath and could feel his ribs sliding out of place, buckling under the pressure, and his thoughts fell to the possibility that he might die.  Then, when he was about to give up, Niccolo looked up and saw the flames rising from Lucifer’s palace.  Suddenly, death was not an option.  Niccolo could not even consider that his life was about to end in this place and in such a way. 

After all, if he died, there was no hope for Lucifer.

Niccolo screamed, his rage, frustration and his love for his father figure all combining with the latent power of the demonic king he had killed.  He pushed his arms out and up, breaking Ajax’s hold and throwing them back from the force.  When he landed, Niccolo thrust his left hand forward, the screech of metal echoing in his ears.  After a deep breath, Niccolo was shocked back into the present by his arm being yanked down.  Slightly confused, Niccolo looked down and found Ajax kneeling, both of his gauntleted hands wrapped around Niccolo’s demonic forearm, which was buried wrist-deep in the warrior’s chest.  Unable to think of some witty response, Niccolo just breathed shakily before Ajax looked up at him, his eyes filled with tears.

“Go on, then.  Do it,” the warrior said, his voice weak, blood dribbling from the sides of his mouth.  Niccolo realized that he had yet to destroy Ajax’s heart, his clawed hand still wrapped around it.  The leper uncurled his fingers and tried to pull out his arm, but Ajax’s hands kept him from being able to do it.

“Ajax, you could live, just give me back my arm,” Niccolo pleaded, trying to pull out his hand, but Ajax would not budge.  He slowly shook his head and a new stream of tears fell down to his beard.

“You beat me, Niccolo.  After more than four thousand years, someone beat me,” he said, causing Niccolo to shake his head in confusion.

“It doesn’t have to be this way,” Niccolo argued, but Ajax pulled, sinking Niccolo’s hand further into his chest.

“This is the way, Niccolo.  A warrior’s life is ended when he has been defeated.  Take my strength and use it for your goals, whatever they are,” he commanded, causing Niccolo to shake his head again, desperate to save his enemy’s life.

“You could fight beside me, Ajax.  We can save Hell together!” he shouted, but Ajax’s face shook with fury.

“Kill me, you bastard!  Do NOT deny me my glorious death!” Ajax commanded, squeezing Niccolo’s arm enough to trigger a reflexive curl of his fingers, and then yanked Niccolo’s arm out of his body, dragging his own heart out with it.

“Ajax…” Niccolo muttered, unable to believe his fellow Horseman, but when Ajax’s lifeless body fell to the street, he found the warrior’s lips were curled into a grim smile.  Niccolo looked down at his demonic arm and found it covered in blood, the heart of Ajax the Greater lying still in his palm.

Niccolo was not ready for the sudden flood of power flowing from that soft tissue into his demonic arm, causing him to double over in pain.  Countless acts of violence and centuries of pain and glory coursed through him, his muscles vibrating as they recalled memories that did not belong to them.  Niccolo was gasping for air as he became used to the sudden influx of strength, only just able to see Cadmus approaching, his face as stern as it could be.

Niccolo did not have to say a word, even give a hint, to the black horse running toward him.  When Plague turned to face the stairs to the palace, Niccolo had already picked up his bow from the ground and had rushed up to Plague’s side.  He planted his arm down on the saddle and launched himself onto his horse’s back, gathering the reins before Plague reared back, throwing its hooves into the air.