The Trinity of Heroes (I Will Protect You Book 1) (39 page)

Galvan and Jameson watched as his copies placed their hands on Kastor, who tried helplessly to fight them off. His sorceries were ineffective and fizzled as they missed their marks. The group of Galvan clones carried a kicking and screaming Kastor Char toward the Hellgate. As they approached, it swung open and this time Kastor could see deeper inside of it, deeper into the infernal depths of the fiery prison. He kept trying to fight back, struggling futilely as the clones’ grips became tighter and tighter. The Galvans marched him through the Hellgate and disappeared into the raging fires.

“I’ll get you, Galvan Gabrielle. Mark my words, I’ll be back!”

These were the last words Galvan heard. He approached the gate and slammed it shut, ending the spell. The gate disappeared. Kastor Char would burn in hell for all eternity.

Phillip moaned and groaned as he came to; his head rocked with a splitting headache as he sat up. He couldn’t believe that Benni Wakewood had snuck up and attacked him; he would make them all pay…if he could ever find them. He leaned up against the cell for a moment, allowing his body to recover from the whiplash. He finally stood and headed up the nearby stairs; he needed to get to Razzius and warn him of what had happened. He rounded a corner into an open chamber, most likely a meeting room. He heard footsteps. He quickly hid behind a pillar and watched as the source of the noise approached.

***

Jerreth dashed toward the castle ahead of Lawrence who was cutting down a small group of Sangres. “Catch up, son! I’m going on ahead,” Jerreth called over his shoulder.

Jerreth made his way up the steps on the side of the castle, dodging Sangre attacks. He shoved their off-balanced bodies down the stairs into their dark brethren. He pushed an iron door to the castle open and made his way inside. He took off in a familiar direction; he knew this castle like the back of his hand. He had been here many times, but never remembered it looking so
empty
. He knew he needed to go through the meeting chambers to get to his ultimate destination: the throne room.

He rounded a corner as he came to the first room. Empty. He entered and walked through the room, coming to a second, similar space. Parchments lie everywhere and book shelves were overturned. Jerreth saw two large pillars that led to the exit. He rushed toward them and as he approached, a shadowy figure slid out into his path. He couldn’t react in time. It was too late. Jerreth felt a cold sensation overtake his body. His breath caught in his throat. He looked down to see a man holding a longsword that had been pushed about halfway through his chest, striking vital organs.

“So you’re Jerreth Sanctus, huh? You don’t look so tough to me. You look like your son did that night when I kicked his ass!” Phillip shouted. He threw a punch that sent the wounded Jerreth to the ground, reeling in pain as the sword turned and pushed farther into his chest.

“Father?” Lawrence’s cries echoed through the room.

Jerreth could hear Lawrence’s muffled cries and he knew that his son was looking for him throughout the castle. He knew Lawrence was coming; he just had to survive a little bit longer.

“Father!” Lawrence exclaimed as he entered the room and saw his father lying there helpless and dying. Lawrence immediately noticed Phillip who reached for the longsword protruding from Jerreth’s chest and pulled it out. A gush of blood followed the blade as Phillip withdrew it.

“Lawrence Sanctus, oh how the mighty have fallen!” Phillip shouted. He stood over Jerreth’s near lifeless body. “Come on, Lawrence; let’s finish what I started all those years ago.”

Lawrence watched his father struggling, clinging to life. He knew he didn’t have much time; he needed to defeat Phillip here and now.

Phillip gripped his sword with both hands and rushed toward Lawrence. He swung wildly, but Lawrence sidestepped his attack. Phillip hurried to a stop. Lawrence turned and faced Phillip who again rushed him, this time taking several shorter, more accurate jabs. But Lawrence successfully blocked them all with his shield. Lawrence was a trained Knight, guided by true purpose, and he would not be defeated so easily. He concentrated on his defense as again and again Phillip tried to get in a cheap blow. Phillip slashed with his sword and threw knees and elbows to try to catch Lawrence off guard. Lawrence gracefully dodged Phillip’s attacks. He had not yet drawn his sword.

Finally, after a few rounds of dodging Phillip’s wild attacks, Lawrence reached back and freed Einhander from its sheath. “Let’s finish this, Phillip!” he shouted as he readied to attack.

Benni tore his way through the maze of corridors and finally came to the throne room where Razzius sat atop Mayor Flint’s back, using him as a human throne. His back was to Benni; the Knight had the drop on him. He watched as Razzius played with his ebony sword, swinging it freely in the air. He was talking to Flint, taunting him. Benni kept approaching slowly and silently. He clutched his sword and shield close as he readied for anything. He knew that Razzius was a talented fighter, and he had yet to measure the full length of his skills.

“That’s far enough, Benni,” Razzius commanded. His sinister voice made even the brightest of candlelights shiver.

Benni froze.
How did he see me
? Benni could sense a dark force at work; it emanated from Razzius, and permeated the entire room. Suddenly, a multitude of Sangres surrounded Benni and began to close in on his position.

“Stop! I’ll handle this!” Razzius ordered the Sangres to stand down. “Benni, it has been a while since we last sparred, hasn’t it? How long did it take me to defeat you last time? I think it was something around…three minutes?”

“Razzius! Look at what you are doing; you must realize how evil this is! Stop this at once and come home…come back to us!”

“Back to you?” he roared. “Oh, you mean back to the two people in this entire world that I trusted, that I confided in. You betrayed me!” He stood up and kicked Flint in the ribs to effectively neutralize any interference from the ex-Knight. “The two people that I thought would give me a second chance were the two that sold me out! My brothers, the only men in the world that I really thought worthy to be called friends…then on that night, when I needed you the most, you turned your backs on me. You put yourselves above me. It was self-defense, Benni!” Razzius pointed Bloodletter toward him. “Now, it’s all in the past. I will remember that night as the night when I began to see the truth. I will remember that night when you and Lawrence chased me as the defining moment on my path to salvation. Nothing will stop our plan!”

Razzius was out for revenge. His Knight Guard attire had darkened with dirt and mud and the Hailian Crest was covered with the blood of his victims. The once vibrant colors had turned darker shades. His usually short, cropped hair had grown longer and frayed from lack of attention. It was as though he had aged twenty years in the few days he had been gone. The effects of Deminion’s hold on him were more and more apparent as he smiled, his black tongue becoming visible in a mouthful of rotting, blackened teeth. His eyes glowed darker than ever, their pupils like looking into the unending void of a bottomless pit.

“Razzius, you are still our brother. You don’t want to do this!” Benni pleaded as he readied himself for the worst.

“You know nothing about me! If you had, then you would have helped me, but instead you left me to my father’s hatred. He beat me, cursed me, hated me, neglected me and constantly berated me, Benni. Put yourself in my shoes, you would have done the same! You would have killed your own father, too! The two of us are very alike you know; we both want the same thing.”

“I’m nothing like you! I would never murder a citizen of Haile, much less a member of my own family! Nicholas and Helen gave me a home to believe in!
”

“Oh yes, Nicholas and Helen. Speaking of them, bring me the prisoners!”

Benni watched in horror as a large group of Sangres ushered in Nicholas and Helen who were bound and shackled. The beasts threw his guardians down to the floor at Razzius’ feet.

Nicholas immediately turned to Benni and shouted, “Don’t let him intimidate you, Benni; he must not break your spirit!”

“Silence, you unruly scum!” Razzius snarled. He ran Nicholas through with Bloodletter. The sword carved through him, opening a gaping, jagged wound. Razzius ripped the blade out, causing a huge spray of blood to erupt from Nicholas’ serrated wound. Helen watched in horror as her husband’s bloody corpse fell to the ground.

“Noooo!” Benni shouted as a devilish smile came across Razzius’ face. Benni pointed his sword toward Razzius, even though he was powerless to stop Razzius from doing as he pleased with the woman who had raised and cared for him. Benni had never felt so helpless.

Razzius grabbed Helen and dragged her by the hair. “Benni, I want you to know something. I always wanted to do this to somebody. And now…” He held Helen up in front of him with his left hand, exposing her neck. “I can!” He ran Bloodletter across her throat. It wasn’t a clean cut; instead skin ripped and tore as the unholy blade sliced her windpipe and jugular. Blood sprayed out, coloring the floor in its crimson sigil.

Benni lost focus for a moment as the sound of Helen sputtering and gurgling was the only thing he could hear. There was so much blood that Benni could hear Razzius’ boots slopping through it as he approached.

Slosh! Slosh! Slosh!

It was a sickening sound, one that enraged Benni, and sent him to a very dark place. “You are a monster…a demon!” Benni cried, gripping his sword and shield tightly. “I will not allow this to continue. If it means my death then so be it. Razzius Grimm, I challenge you to a fight to the death!”

Clang!

Einhander and longsword met as Lawrence and Phillip crossed swords for the first time, neither of them giving in to the other’s might. Lawrence knew that Phillip wasn’t a seasoned fighter; there was no way that he had beaten Jerreth in a fair fight. Lawrence knew of Phillip’s underhanded ways, and this time he vowed that they would not go unpunished. There were no associates to protect him this time. This time the end result would be different. Lawrence had to win this fight. He had to avenge his father.

“I can’t wait to watch you bleed, Lawrence, just like your little girlfriend!”

Lawrence shuddered at Phillip’s proclamation.
What the hell does he mean by that?

Clang! Clang!

Their swords met again; this time Lawrence angrily pushed Phillip back into a wall.

“Ugh!” Phillip exhaled as his head bounced off the hard, stone wall.

Lawrence pressed forward, Einhander poised to strike. Lawrence spun the blade in a windmill motion as he parried multiple attacks from Phillip and knocked him off balance again.

Phillip raced toward Lawrence and threw his longsword at him in frustration.

Lawrence swung to block with Einhander.
Ding!
Phillip’s blade clattered to the floor. But the parry left Lawrence open to Phillip’s takedown. Both men crashed to the ground.

Clang!
Einhander flew out of Lawrence’s hand and clattered to the ground, out of the reach of both men. He and Phillip became locked in a ground battle. Phillip was on top; he had Lawrence right where he wanted him.

Smack! Crack! Pop!

His fists erupted against Lawrence’s face and chest as he rained down a flurry of blows. Lawrence felt a sharp pain in his ribs as he brought his hands up to try to block some of the blows. Ground fighting was not his specialty, and even though he practiced it occasionally with Benni, he still had little training in fighting off of his back.

“Come on, Lawrence; let me see what color the blood of a hero is!” Phillip screamed as he continued to punch and elbow Lawrence who was barely able to cover up against the onslaught of blows. Lawrence could sense that time was running out. He needed to act fast. Phillip raised his hands high above his head and readied to hammer down a crushing blow.

Suddenly, Jerreth shouted, “Throw a punch, Lawrence! Now!”

Phillip was distracted by the old man’s voice for a moment, and Lawrence saw his opening. He swung his right arm up as hard as he could and his fist connected flush with Phillip’s nose. Phillip’s head flicked back and he screeched in pain. Lawrence threw a flurry of blows. Phillip couldn’t get his defenses up in time, and Lawrence’s stiff, solid punches landed on their mark.

Lawrence reached up with his left hand and grabbed Phillip’s black tunic. He pulled his upper body down toward himself and shot his head forward as he got close.

Crack!

Lawrence’s forehead crashed into Phillip’s nose, causing it to break upon contact. Blood sprayed across Lawrence’s face as Phillip’s head flung back. Lawrence reached up and grabbed Phillip’s tunic again and pulled him back down as he threw another punch straight into Phillip’s jaw. Lawrence hit Phillip over and over again.

Finally, Phillip blocked one of Lawrence’s jabs. Phillip then countered with his own barrage of punches, which dizzied Lawrence yet again.

Lawrence’s right arm was pinned to his side, but he brought his left arm up in an attempt to block Phillip’s onslaught of attacks.

“Come on, Lawrence, is that all you got?!” Phillip screeched. He continued to rain down blow after blow through Lawrence’s arm and into his head. Lawrence was struggling to hold his own as Phillip still had the dominant position on top of his prone body.

“Son, use this!” Jerreth shouted.

Lawrence heard something slide across the floor and saw a small blade stop near his right side. He jacked his hips just enough to unbalance Phillip and he freed his right hand from under his back. His fingers crawled their way toward the blade anxiously, like a spider approaching its prey. Lawrence’s fingers clasped the familiar wooden handle of his father’s dagger.

The two kept struggling. “Lawrence,” Phillip taunted, “you should have been there when I beat Elsie into submission. It felt so good! I spent so many nights wondering if I would ever return to Haile. Then Razzius came to me and offered me a place at his side, a chance for my redemption. I couldn’t refuse!”

“You won’t be getting any redemption, Phillip; your journey ends with me!” Lawrence retorted as he tightened his grip on the dagger.

Phillip came back down to hit Lawrence again, but stopped short and instead howled in pain as Lawrence stabbed the dagger into the side of his thigh. While Phillip was reeling in pain, Lawrence pushed him off and crawled and clawed his way on top of Phillip’s body. Lawrence could sense it now; he had gained the upper hand in the battle. Lawrence started to hit him in his undefended face. Again and again Lawrence’s fists smashed into Phillip’s face, as Phillip’s cries of agony reverberated throughout the room.

“You son of a bitch!” Lawrence roared. “I’m going to kill you! I hate you! Stay away from me!” His fist connected with Phillip’s already broken nose, slipping against the blood. “Stay away from Haile!” He lowered the point of his elbow into Phillip’s forehead. “Stay away from my lands!” More and more punches bashed against Phillip’s still defenseless skull. “And most of all, stay away from Elsie!” Lawrence unloaded with a flurry of vicious elbows, continuing long after Phillip’s body had gone limp. He kept punching, even though his knuckles stung with unbelievable pain and skin began to rip and scrape off of Phillip’s face. Lawrence didn’t care, this was revenge. His eyes burned with a fury he didn’t know he had.

Splat! Splat! Splat! Crunch! Crack!

Lawrence kept bludgeoning Phillip’s gory, mangled face. Lawrence’s face was bathed in the spray of fresh, warm blood. Phillip’s face was no longer distinguishable. Lawrence’s fists were drenched in Phillip’s blood.

“That’s enough, son,” Jerreth barely gurgled out. He crawled to his son and threw his arms around him.

Lawrence tried to throw more punches. “What do I do?” he screamed, still attempting to punch at Phillip’s distorted face. “I can’t stop, I hate him so much!”

Jerreth held his son loosely in his muscular arms. “Let it go,” he said softly. “It’s over. Just let it go. Please.”

Lawrence finally stopped punching. The young Knight sat there huffing and puffing, his father clinging to his shoulders. He finally calmed his breathing and turned to his father who was bleeding profusely. “Father! We have to do something!” he cried. He motioned to apply pressure to his father’s wound.

“Don’t bother, son, this is a fatal wound…there is nothing you can do,” Jerreth lamented.

“But, Father, you can’t expect me to just let you die!” Lawrence staggered his way through his words. The thought of his father’s death terrified him.

“That’s exactly what I expect you to do, son! My time has come, my boy. I am going to be with your mother soon, something I have dreamed of for a long time. I just didn’t know how to do it. I always hoped I could live to see you grow up to be a fine young man, and I got my wish. You have grown into a fine Knight, Lawrence, one I am certainly proud of. Watching you fight those monsters was like looking into the past when I fought Ghast. Lawrence, I am very proud of you.” Jerreth coughed up some blood. “No matter what happens, son, no matter how bad things may get, please protect these lands.” He reached his hand out to Lawrence and grasped his son’s hand. “Son…Son…Son…” His breathing intensified and he could feel himself slipping in and out of consciousness. “Son…I love you… Never… Never… Stop… Fighting…”

Lawrence could feel his father’s hand opening and closing around his own as he kept breathing heavily for a while. “Father, please don’t die. I love you. I forgive you,” Lawrence cried, tears flowing down his cheeks. He buried his head in his father’s chest, sobbing. He finally felt the emotional catharsis from allowing himself to forgive his father.

Jerreth responded by clasping his son’s hand once more, tightly this time. He uttered no more words though. Then his calloused hand went limp and it fell to the ground. His body slumped lifelessly in Lawrence’s arms.

Lawrence sat there with his father for several minutes, saying a prayer for his soul. “I forgive you, Father,” he repeated in between painful sobs. Lawrence reflected on the times they spent together when he was a young boy, all the lessons his father had taught him, and the battle that they had fought together that day. Lawrence felt pride in what his father had tried to accomplish in his life, even if he didn’t necessarily agree with his means. But Lawrence knew that his father would want him to fight, to save the city. Eventually, Lawrence let out a deep sigh and crossed his father’s arms over his chest. He rose to his feet. He picked up Einhander and headed through an opening that led to a passageway to the throne room.