Tao of Vampires
A Novel by Marques Dillard
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Tao of Vampires
A Novel by Marques Dillard
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Never Rape A Nymphyre
Northern Scotland 1710 All the soldiers were dead, for the exception of two. Arvo of Cadmilus was forty paces from Apollo of Zeus, their eyes fixed. “Well, I suppose we should finish this,” Apollo said. He stabbed the sand with his claymore, brushed his blood red hair out of his eyes and tied it into a knot. He pulled off his gold waistcoat and tossed it aside. He unbuttoned his white ruffled shirt, and readjusted his gold breeches. Arvo twirled his samurai sword, in his light brown hand, as a strong wind made his black kilt wave like a flag. “There is no other choice.” Bloated and dismembered bodies splashed against the Scottish shore as Arvo and Apollo stepped over the dead, until they found an open space appropriate for combat. They placed their swords into the sand and paced in a circle. The ritual was of the old way, long before the immemorial. They stepped toward one another. They stood face to face. Apollo recognized the height of Arvo. The son of Cadmilus was at least one head taller, well over seven feet tall. He was lean, muscular, but with the deceiving appearance of an old boy. They raised their weapons. They touched blades. The battle began. Apollo tried to end the battle early, by using the length and weight of the claymore to beat Arvo into submission, with brute force. The Incrementum casually avoided the strikes without the use of his weapon. After the first flurry, Apollo stepped away from Arvo. He cursed himself for his sloppy assault. Arvo said, “If you understand your adversary and you understand yourself, you need not fear the outcome of a thousand battles.” Apollo growled like a wolf and bared his fangs. “You think you know me?” He recalled the proper methods of combat with a claymore. “Know this!” He double-gripped his sword and lifted it above his head. He stepped forward and struck down upon Arvo, but the Incrementum governed his sword to parry the strikes. Apollo extended his sword to his left and swept right, but Arvo was there, blocking another blow. The calm and confidant expression on Arvo’s brown visage fed the rancor inside the Ancient Dead. Arvo said, “If you understand yourself but not your adversary, for every triumph gained you will suffer a defeat.” Arvo gestured toward the beach of corpses. “You dare school me? Here’s a lesson!” Apollo tried to gut his foe, with a cross-section down-stroke, but Arvo’s countermeasure was on task, deflecting the blow into the sand. Apollo lunged forward as he thrust the tip of his sword toward Arvo’s chest, but he parried, spun and side-kicked Apollo in the face. The Ancient Dead wiped the black blood from his nose. He glared at his enemy. His red eyes glowed in the twilight. “You tricky bastard.” Apollo shifted his broken nose back into place. It was healed moments later. He attacked, with the best of his execution, as Arvo blocked his strikes. Apollo put all his energy into a sidestroke. Arvo ducked and spun low. His long leg connected with Apollo’s ankles, taking his legs out from under him, sending him back on the sand. He took grip of his sword and sprung to his feet. He continued his assault, moving forward as he probed for a weakness, but before he could discover a fault, Arvo stepped aside, spun and kicked the Ancient Dead in the back of his head. Apollo fell face-down in the sand. He spit the grainy dirt out of his mouth, gripped his sword and arose. His red eyes fixed upon Arvo’s deep-purple eyes. Arvo said, “If you understand neither the adversary nor yourself,” Arvo lunged forward, his sword strokes forcing Apollo to stagger back, as he frantically blocked the strikes of the Incrementum. “You will succumb in every battle.” Arvo paused his sword and front-kicked Apollo in the chest, sending the Ancient Dead yards away and on his back. Apollo was staring into the blue, until Arvo stood above, looking down at him. The Incrementum placed the tip of his sword on the chest of Apollo. “Give me Conscientia. Give me The Knowledge.”
A rapping at the bedroom door of his castle interrupted Apollo’s fitful dream. Knock, knock, knock! He ignored the knocks and tried to regain his sleep in a gold coffin the size of a bed. Knock, knock, knock! It was late in the morning, the worst time for an Ancient Dead. He was immune to the rays of light, like all Ancient Dead and Antediluvians, but such exposure had an adverse effect on his sensibilities. Knock, knock, knock! He cursed in Latin and pulled a lever. The hinged gold lid opened. He arose and tossed on his gold robe. “Come in!” Xuthus, Apollo’s servant for centuries, entered the room. “I apologize for the intrusion, overlord.” “Why this intrusion at this time of day? The light offends me.” “We have a situation that demands your immediate attention, overlord.” “What situation would warrant my premature awakening?” Xuthus’ red eyes wandered. He looked down, then fixed his eyes upon Apollo. “We have a messenger,” he licked his lips and exhaled, “from Arvo the Incrementum. He has crossed into Scotland. His forces are on the beach, approximately a mile away.” Apollo vigorously shook his head. “It couldn’t be. You must be deceived. The last report was that moor was in northern France.” “Overlord, he was in France, recruiting disgruntled Antediluvians, for his push into England, but now he is here. He vanquished Olorious, and his coven, with not much more than a say-so.” Xuthus went to the closet and retrieved Apollo’s golden suit. “The whisper goes that the moment he stepped onto English soil, the obliteration of covens began.” Xuthus gave Apollo his gold breeches. Apollo stepped into his breeches and secured them around his waist. “How did Arvo evade Ares?” “I don’t know, overlord. That question is best answered by Sextus. All I know is he lusts for you only. He wants Conscientia.” “Well then, I suppose there will be a new tale to be told.” Servants adjusted Apollo’s white, ruffled shirt and white stockings. He put his arms our and the servants fitted the gold waistcoat, fixing his collar. “Tell the messenger I’ll see him when I’m next prepared for.” He brushed off the subordinates. “Leave me.” The servants bowed and made their exit. Xuthus corrected. “Her.” “Excuse me? Speak louder, Xuthus.” “The messenger is a woman, overlord.” “Well, even sweeter. Tell HER I’ll be there when I am ready.” Apollo pruned himself in front of a large mirror. He brushed and teased his curly hair until he was satisfied. He retrieved his dagger and claymore, then walked out of his enormous dwelling. He strolled down a walkway of a place he considered the most beautiful castle ever created. Castle Acropolis was a small city of Greek architecture. It housed a legion of five thousand Antediluvians and four hundred Nocturnes. One thousand mortals were responsible for tending to the needs of the vampires in all manners imaginable. Apollo looked up and admired the design of the five-level castle keep, the mainstay of defense. The rectangular structure was of Greek design, but the snouts of the cannons were a reminder of its main purpose. He entered the main chamber and sat on his golden throne, adorned with precious stones. He put his hand out. A servant gave him a goblet of chilled blood, bowed and walked away. “The messenger may enter.” Xuthus led the cloaked messenger into the chamber. “Here she is, overlord.” The messenger tossed back the hood of her forest green cloak that enveloped her adolescent figure. Her slanted gray eyes were big and compelling. Her hair was glossy black. “Good day, Apollo of Zeus. I am Nyronis of the Oceanids.” Apollo laughed at the sight of the maiden. “He sends me a nymphyre! An Oceanid no less. You must feel at home so close to the sea.” In a soft and calm voice, Nyronis said, “Arvo, son of Cadmilus, and mighty Incrementum, requests you surrender yourself to him immediately. In return, he will not annihilate your legion of gold and topple Castle Acropolis.” A caustic sensation enveloped Apollo as he remembered the arrogant expression on the Incrementum’s face. “The audacity!” He pounded his fist against the throne armrest. “I have two messages for him.” He wiped spittle from his mouth. “Tell that moor he’ll feel my sword, inside him, soon enough! I’ve been absconding from that abomination since the black plague.” His finger trembled as he pointed at her. “No more running for mighty Apollo! You hear me, nymphyre?” He moved forward with preternatural speed. He growled as he faced her, with his long fangs bare. “You know what my second reply shall be?” Apollo thought of the most damaging act that would upset an Incrementum, as he sniffed her. “He’ll know my reply by your raped and disheveled state!” He gripped her cloak, dragged her up the steps, to the throne, to violate her. Her cloak went light. The nymphyre had slipped out of the cloak and sprinted off to the far corner of the main chamber, behind a pillar. “This is a very wrong decision.” The sound of her voiced echoed away from her location. “Arvo and Artemis will not be pleased.” Apollo closed his eyes and sensed her location. He faced her, but she disappeared. “What pleases me now,” he put his arms out to help him sense her location, “is what pleases me!” He found her behind gold curtains. “Give up. Your witchery will not help you against an Ancient Dead.” She fled and he chased her throughout the gray stone interior, draped with gold and red rugs. Even though she was a slower creature, she was too nimble for an easy capture. “Be still! Or I will not only soil you, I will ferry your corpse back on a horse!” He heard a low thud, but ignored it. Clearing the cannon barrels, of the keep, was commonly done. He caught her again, and dragged her to the throne. He put her down on the cold marble floor. “This is going to hurt. Believe me.” He made another attempt to debase her, but she sunk her fangs into his forearm until they touched bone. He gritted his teeth as she clinched her jaws, squirting venom into the wound. “Errrr-rahhrrr!” Apollo pried his wrist out of her mouth, black blood dripping from the punctures. As he gripped his wrist, she retrieved her hidden dagger and planted it into his chest. He barked with pain. She squiggled free and fled toward an exit. The door was locked. “You pagan bitch!” Apollo yanked the knife from his chest and tossed it over his shoulder. The wound was healed by the time he wiped his black blood from his chest, but his forearm was burning and swollen. She turned around. “You still have time to change your decision.” He stared at his forearm until the swelling diminished. “I’ve already decided.” He flashed to her, tackled her to the ground and moved on top of her. Her silver eyes went black as she clawed him with her long fingernails, digging into any piece of his flesh he exposed. She rolled herself onto her stomach, elbowed her way from him and ran. He galloped, on all fours, and caught her. He dragged her to the throne, and threw her down on the floor. She fought ferociously, thrashing. They wrestled, in front of the throne, until they tumbled down the steps. The nymphyre’s jewelry and amulet littered the floor. “When do you ever give up?” He gripped her around the waist and picked her up. She kicked and twisted for freedom, as he struggled up the steps to his throne. He lifted her over his head and slammed her to the floor. “Now stop!” He hit her on the side of her head. She was too delirious to fight. He dropped his breeches, tore off her gown. “Ah, very nice.” Her petite body, with small round breasts, aroused him. “Very nice. I’ll enjoy this immensely.” He maneuvered himself between her thighs, but the moment before he could stab himself inside her, he was interrupted by a thud much closer than before. He looked up for a moment, squinted his eyes, shook his head. It was nothing. He pushed her thighs wide and poised himself to thrust himself inside her. He kept his grip upon her throat, partially choking her when a closer thud interrupted his act. The half conscious nymphyre was moaning in pain. Xuthus entered the room. “Overlord, I hate to interrupt, but we have a serious predicament.” “Can’t you see I’m raping the messenger?” “Nymphyres are off limits, overlord.” “Tell the gunners to discontinue the clearing of the cannons. It distracts me. Now leave.” “It’s very bad luck to rape a nymphyre, overlord.” “I don’t care!” “But, overlord, nymphyres were specially trained by your sister, Artemis. They are the finest archers known to the Olympic Coven. We cannot afford to be at the receiving end of their arrows.” “Leave, Xuthus, now! I don’t care if the world is coming to an end!” “By your wish, overlord. I’ll contact Sextus to coordinate our defenses.” The door shut behind Xuthus. “Here comes your violation, witch of the wilderness,” he said. Another thud released dust into the chamber. “What was that?” The nymphyre took grip of Apollo’s hand and pried it off her throat. “A warning shot--from Arvo.” An impact, upon the main chamber of the castle, shook them apart. “He will not stop, until I return with your reply.” The nymphyre stood and stepped away from Apollo. “It’s too late.” A cannon ball entered the chamber, through a wall, and ricocheted through the room. Apollo ducked the iron orb and fled from its path. It collided with the golden throne before its travel ceased. Apollo looked at his throne. “My throne. Gone. It’s gone.” He stood, pulled up his trousers and grabbed the nymphyre’s cloak. “Here.” He tossed it to her. Nyronis was naked, but her hair cloaked her to her thighs. She casually fetched her torn gown, jewelry and amulet. “Now go,” he said. The thud of another cannonball caused a tremor in the room. “Xuthus!” Xuthus opened the door and walked into the room. “Send her back, from where she came. Unharmed, unsoiled.” The nymphyre walked to the door and stopped. She turned and looked at Apollo. “Go!” He growled. Nymphyre, in thy orisons. All my sins remembered.
Apollo watched, from the third level of the keep, the nymphyre make her way back to Arvo and his troop of slayers. She stopped on occasion to pick flowers. He adjusted his gold body armor and cursed its poor fitment. Xuthus appeared, dressed in a gold suit and cloak. “You’ll need this,” he said, as he placed a gold crucifix around Apollo’s neck. “For good luck.” Apollo kissed his charm. “Xuthus, I’ve made a horrible mistake.” “Yes, you did, overlord.” “I forgot myself.” “Yes, you did, overlord. You soiled your reputation. But no matter,” Xuthus patted Apollo on the back. “Sextus is a brilliant strategist.” Apollo and Xuthus walked up the stairway to the top of the keep. The gunners were creating pyramids of cannon balls behind each cannon. Apollo shook Sextus’ hand. “Sextus, what say you?” “I say we have a cunning foe,” the grizzled and sturdy commander said. “Rather than facing Ares, and the most powerful legion of the Olympic Coven, he eluded Ares’ forces by using a circuitous route to Scotland. They silenced all our watchmen, and then assembled in the morning fog.” “That’s surprising.” Apollo made use of his vampire eyes to see the warriors in the mist. “Why would he avoid a battle with Ares? It’s not in his character.” “On the contrary, it’s perfect,” Sextus said. “Arvo’s goal is to capture you and steal the memories from you mind. Since a battle with Ares is not necessary, to achieve his goal, he can avoid a battle that would cost him soldiers, and supplies. He comes to us fresh and in full force.” “This just keeps getting better,” Xuthus muttered. “It does get better,” Sextus said. “Regardless of his shrewd maneuver, we are well defended and on the high ground. We have four lines of defense, over five thousand infantry, two hundred cavalry. We will have an additional four hundred Nocturnes when darkness falls. Best of all, Artorius, our general, is battle tested and undefeated.” Apollo nodded. “That’s quite formidable.” “Our mortals will start the attack,” Sextus said. “They’ll help us assess enemy strength and artillery positions. After they’re slaughtered, we have the finest golden infantry and supporting line behind them.” Sextus pointed to the right and the left. “Our reserves, flank and wing of cavalry are positioned and prepared.” Apollo’s train of thought was interrupted when the nymphyre returned to the dark-skinned horseman. He dismounted and received his gift of flowers. Words were being exchanged. The nymphyre nodded, shook her head, nodded, shook her head, shook her head, and then nodded. She trotted off to the right flank of the army of slayers. “And our enemy?” “The hides are in an unorthodox formation. I’ve never seen hides, or perhaps artillery, in an arc formation. If their plan is to sack the castle, they should concentrate their firepower in one section, then move their forces into the breach. But if they want to spend day after day banging our ballium walls then let them.” They laughed. “Yet, what I also find peculiar is they’re wearing kilts, sashes, and what seems to be beaded chain mail.” Sextus wiped sweat from his cheek. “I’ve never seen such protection.” “Nor have I.” Apollo looked at Sextus. “How much artillery do we have on the field?” “We have twenty cannons, five catapults.” Apollo glared at Sextus. “Catapults? I thought they were just for show.” Sextus shrugged his shoulders. “Castle Acropolis was supposed to be for show. This is the first time we have ever had to fend off a siege. The catapults, in this day and age, are virtually useless, but they’ll have to be adequate, until Ares’ troops and artillery reach our location.” Apollo’s eyes remained fixed on the Incrementum. “How many days?” “Only four days.” “Four days?” “Yes, but there’s no possibility Arvo’s army can defeat us within a week, if not a month.” Apollo looked at Sextus. “How are our archers? Are they well schooled?” “Yes. They are second only to the nymphyres, and luckily, the nymphyres are neutral, thus not involved.” Xuthus tapped Apollo with his elbow. He was staring through a spyglass. “Sextus, did you just say the nymphyres were not involved?” “Yes, they’re neutral.” “Not anymore.” Xuthus said. “Focus your eagle eyes upon the troops forming behind the second line of infantry.” Apollo squinted his vampire eyes to increase magnification and acuity. He watched over one hundred nymphyres, dressed in black kilts and sashes, create a line behind Arvo’s supporting line of attack. Their quill and bows were mounted on their backs. Doglock muskets were in their grip. They poured charge powder down the musket barrel, dropped a ball down the barrel, then used a metal rod to ram the ball down the barrel, and secured with cartridge paper. “Impossible,” Sextus said. “Nymphyres have been neutral for centuries. What changed their minds?” Apollo refused to answer. “Don’t say a word,” he whispered to Xuthus. Xuthus acted as though he did not acknowledge Apollo’s words. He still peered through a spyglass. “Overlord, unless I am mistaken, your twin sister, Artemis, is riding a black stallion toward Arvo.” Apollo focused his vision on the woman on the stallion. “Artemis.” Her clenched fists, jerky movements, and other gesticulations confirmed she had heard about the rape attempt. She whipped the reins and her stallion galloped to the rear of the army. She rode passed her nymphyres, pumping her fist in the air, as she rallied her troops. “Enough sightseeing,” Sextus said. “Advance the mortals!” The flagman relayed the message to Artorious. The mortals, dressed in gold uniforms and shields, marched forward like automatons. Arvo’s soldier’s knelt as the mortals reached the center of the battlefield. Musket shots echoed. The mortals dropped as though they were in a firing squad. The second volley finished the survivors. Red blood seeped into the soil. “Damn it! Those nymphyres are quite good!” “Oh no,” Xuthus turned away from the spyglass and looked at Apollo. “Another one hundred nymphyres have moved into formation. Wonderful.” “It doesn’t change things,” Sextus turned to the flagman, “Advance the fighting line of golden Antediluvians!” The golden Antediluvians wore gold chest and shoulder plates. Their leggings were knee-high. A helmet and shield were the finishing touches. They marched forward after receiving their orders from Artorious. Sextus smiled. “Don’t worry, lord. Our armor is too strong for the nymphyres’ measly pellets.” Apollo squinted. He noticed the nymphyres had slung their muskets, and resorted to their bows and arrows. The small bulb behind the tip of their arrows disturbed him. “Sextus…” The nymphyres’ arrows filled the sky and arched down into the golden infantry. The shields and archaic armor was useless protection against arrows, with bulbs of explosives that burst upon impact, tearing them to pieces. With each explosion, gold chunks of vampires rained from the sky. “Never have I seen!” “No matter,” Sextus said. “We have thousands remaining. Their quivers will empty. The advantage will change.” Apollo noticed the hides were removed. Dozens of long-range cannons were now visible. He turned to his master strategist. “Sextus?” “I don’t know, lord. I’ve never seen cannons of that size or design. Twice the size of any French cannon I’ve ever seen. Their long barrels are designed for long-range targets, but we’re still far out of range of accuracy. I’ll notify Artorious to make—“ Apollo watched the multiple flashes of cannon fire. “Oh no.” The front section of the outer ballium wall collapsed into a heap of stones after dozens of cannonballs exploded on contact. “Impossible!” Sextus said. “This I’ve never seen. That moor has learned much from his time in China.” Another cluster of cannon fire battered the wall of the inner ballium. He turned to his gunners. “Return fire!” The French cannons recoiled violently after spitting the cannon balls towards the enemy. Each round fell pitifully short of its target. Xuthus tapped Apollo on his elbow. “Overlord, we should have the praetorians escort the civilians out of the acropolis immediately.” Apollo watched another cannon ball collide and damage more of the inner ballium wall. “Will Arvo fire upon them?” “No.” Xuthus flinched after the report, of another cannon discharge, thundered. “It’s against his nature.” “Do it.” Xuthus turned to a subordinate. “Boy, relate the message to the praetorian commander.” The mortal boy nodded and hopped down the stairs of the keep. “Castle Acropolis is wide open!” Apollo flinched at every burst of the cannons. “Sextus, why aren’t they beginning their siege?” Apollo stared at Sextus as he studied the collapsed sections of the ballium walls. Sextus said, “The only reason, I can surmise, is they spread their artillery, and are battering of our ballium walls, to—“ Apollo noticed a look of despair on Sextus’ face. “What?” Sextus looked at Apollo. “Their plan is not to sack Castle Acropolis. They want to bring it down! They want to bring down all the balliums, bring down the acropolis, and bring down the keep. With those cannons, they may achieve their goal.” The ballium walls were rubble. Apollo watched parts of Castle Acropolis collapse after the iron orbs pounded the structures. The relentless cannon fire destroyed majestic structures, audacious shrines, and prominent buildings. Apollo’s throat became tight as he the shrine of The Olympic Coven was battered to ruin. The keep was the last remaining structure. Apollo stared at everyone. They were as bewildered as he. “What should we do?” The next vollies crumbled the wall that protected the keep. “We’ve got to go, my lord!” Sextus, Xuthus and Apollo ran down the steps of the keep. His personal escort guided him to a hill, where he could watch the catastrophe. Apollo was spooked about Arvo’s soldiers. They stood in formation as the cannon fire pounded the castle into dust. The defiant castle keep was the last portion that remained standing. Another group of hides were discarded. “What say you, Sextus?” Sextus squinted. “Something I’ve never seen.” The gunners lit a fuse at the back of the weapon. The fuse fizzled until a spray of fire shot the rocket propelled object toward the keep. The object exploded when it hit the keep. It created a gaping hole. A flurry of rockets collided against the keep and exploded. Pillars fell, walls crumbled. After the smoke cleared, Apollo could see the keep was a mound of stones. After the castle was destroyed, the slayers focused their attention on the golden legions. The once glorious warriors were being pulverized, as cannon balls bowled through the lines. The rocket-propelled explosives blew apart throngs of his best soldiers, their dead bodies were thrown into the air. Apollo turned to his commanders and shook his fists at them. “Why are you just standing there? Return fire!” “We can’t, sir!” Sextus pointed at the smoking cannons and burning catapults below. “They are out of range!” The cannon and rocket fire ceased. A breeze sent the smoke out to sea. Arvo, on horseback, trotted in front of his army. He raised his sword. “Attack!” The warriors broke formation. They spread out to reduce group kills. With accomplished sword work, and martial skills from the orient, Arvo’s warriors had the golden legion on their heels. Arvo’s cavalry bested Apollo’s premier knights. They flanked the golden infantry and cut down every soldier within a sword’s reach. The nymphyres were back in action, sending arrows into the faces of the golden cavalry attempting to flank Arvo’s army. “We’re being slaughtered, sir!” Sextus shouted over the explosions. “Their weaponry is too far advanced!” Another explosion shook the ground. “I suggest we retreat and regroup a half mile down the beach! We have a ship waiting, not far off shore!” “A ship?” Sextus nodded. “I called for it after word Arvo was in France. We have supplies and assistance waiting on the Orkney Islands.” Apollo could barely say the word. “Regroup.” He looked near the tree line and noticed Arvo and Artemis dismembering all warriors who challenged them. Sextus turned to the flagman. “Regroup half mile down the shoreline!” The flagman relayed the command to Artorious. Artorious relayed the message to his legion. “Regroup! Delay their advance, now!” The surviving golden warriors, reduced to axes and swords, assembled before Apollo, in formation to protect. “My brave friends, the day is almost over.” Artorious shouted. “If we can hold on for one more hour, we will have the assistance of the Nocturnes.” “Artorious,” Xuthus placed his hand on Artorious’ shoulder. “The Incrementum sent a detachment to the Nocturne sarcophagi. They placed barrels of gunpowder throughout the dwelling and lit them on fire. Our Nocturnes are dead and buried.” Arvo appeared at the top of the hill, previously occupied by Apollo. “Halt!” His soldiers paused their attack. They cautiously moved away from their foe. The sounds remaining were the moans of the dying, a relentless wind, the crash of the tides. The stench of decomposing bodies, the scent of the sea, invaded Apollo’s senses. “What are they waiting for?” “For him,” Sextus answered. “They won’t breathe without him.” Apollo watched the slayers move aside for riders striding through their lines. “Then let him come.” He gripped his claymore tight. He thought about his dream. Arvo and Artemis stood before the remnants of the golden legion. Arvo, wearing a black kilt and red sash, mystified Apollo. The Incrementum’s graceful and effeminate countenance was a sharp contrast to his military prowess. Apollo realized if Arvo were not his nemesis, he would have loved him. Arvo shouted, “Give me Apollo, and the rest of you will be spared.” “You know we can’t do that,” Sextus shouted. “Your dead will rot, brother!” Artemis turned her horse and rode back to the rear of the army. Arvo fixed his eyes upon Apollo. “Sooner or later, I will have you. I will have Conscientia.” He rode to the rear. “Attack!” He shouted. “Attack!” Artorious said. Both sides charged, as the din of battle cries echoed across the land—gold into black, black into gold. The Incrementum’s soldiers broke through the embattled lines and charged down the hill. Apollo strode toward his nemesis, with sword ready, prepared for a glorious defeat, until Artorious grabbed him by the wrist. “We’re done, sir. You must flee!” Artorious gave the order. “Get him to the boat!” “I must stay,” Apollo shouted. “I’m no coward!” “You’re not a coward.” Sextus took hold of Apollo’s arm. “You were sent to Castle Acropolis for your protection, but the castle is in ruins and our lines have been breached. We must get you to safety.” Apollo tried to shake out of their grip. “Let me go!” “No sir! You carry Conscientia.” Xuthus’ hand gripped Apollo. “YOU—MUST—NOT--DIE!” Sextus nodded to Xuthus and a group of soldiers. “Take him to the boat. Get him to the ship.” Apollo kicked and elbowed his soldiers, but they held fast, tossed him in a boat and rowed to the ship. Artorious, Sextus and the remaining legion remained to delay the Incrementum’s advance, allowing the ship to abscond. Apollo shouted from the stern of the ship, “Fight! Artorious. Fight! Kill that abomination!” The Incrementum dismissed Artorious and Sextus with casual sword strokes and the fighting arts of China. They fell to pieces. “Orb! Orb!” The remaining golden legion formed a circle to hold off the enemy. The din of shouting, the clang of swords was all he heard as more golden soldiers were severed to death. “Tortoise! Come now, tortoise!” The remaining soldiers held their shields overhead while the front rows defended the sides. Perseus, captain of the ship, watched the battle beside Apollo and Xuthus. “We’ve lost, my friend.” Apollo watched the end of the battle. Arvo’s soldiers backed away from the tortoise formation. The artillerymen aimed their rocket-propelled weapons at the tortoise. The tortoise, of remaining legionaries, was blown to pieces when the rockets exploded. Body parts were strewn across the sandy battlefield as black blood stained the beach. Apollo was in tears as he watched Arvo’s Antediluvians cheer. He watched them celebrate their victory with a bonfire, fiddle and bagpipes. The nymphyres joined in with the merriment, hooking elbows and twirling around. The dark-skinned slayer stood triumphant on the beach. Water splashed against his ankles as he pointed his sword at the fleeing god. The Incrementum remained motionless, his gaze fixed on Apollo as the rays of the sun diminished behind the jagged peaks of the highlands. “Incrementum!” Apollo shook his fist at him and cursed him in Latin. “I’ll see you in Hades!” The slayer nodded. That creature, with glowing purple eyes, stood and watched Apollo, until the curve of the world blocked his vision. Apollo’s dream of body-to-body combat against Arvo was nothing but a dream. He lost his castle, he lost the battle, he lost his legion, and now he was fleeing for his life. There would not be the circle in the sand, the clang of blades. There was nothing left for him but humiliation. As the ship slapped against the waves of the ocean, Apollo realized he decimated his entire legion, and the majority of his coven, because he wanted to rape a nymphyre. |
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