5.10 - The Lord and His Kind

28.7K 2.3K 498
                                    

Dear Readers: As promised, this third-to-last scene of Book I takes us somewhere we have not yet been, with faces we have not yet seen... Hope you'll enjoy meeting some new folks and seeing what role they might play in the series ;)

______________________

Scene 10: The Lord and His Kind

A.D. 2015

The night was deep. The very air a cloud, descended damp and dark upon the streets, through which points of unnatural light were struggling to pierce. No natural light for now. The moon was down, the stars were out of sight, as if abandoning the mortal earth, condemning it to shadow for the night.

One source of manmade light shone bright in the palm of a mortal hand. The boy crouched low and all alone, beside an entrance to the London Underground. A fringe of pale hair peeking from behind the hood drawn down over his brow, below which peered a pair of cold grey-blues. A faint sprinkle of freckles on his nose, scattered and clustered, forming constellations like the many stars now smothered by the fog.

He might have looked endearing, vulnerable even, were it not for bloody murder written all across his face. In the smile that tugged the corners of his chapped lips as the rain-soaked street trembled with the arrival of a subterranean train.

The boy glanced at the screen of the beacon of light in his hand. Checking the time, just as a nearby clock tower proclaimed it with a chime. The hour for which he had been waiting. He had been watching the old man for quite a while and knew his schedule by now. But on this deep night, he would finally pounce. Tonight he was prepared.

Passengers, all useless people to him, emerged from the mouth of the underground station and filtered out into the fog to carry on with pointless lives. The boy knew that the man would be the last. Ever lurking; always watching, scarcely seen. Such was the way, among the old lord's kind. It'd always been. The boy was ready to be one of them.

When the lurker at last appeared, the boy briefly wondered whether the man had seen him first, squatting alone in this dim alley. Were his senses still as sharp as ever? Or had his skills faded a bit, from old age and disuse? The lord and his kind had been dormant, after all, for some time now. All but extinct.

The man, clad in a cloak-like overcoat, head shrouded in a hood, passed by the dark byway in silence. The boy smiled to himself; it seemed that he had not been seen.

But he was to be heard. He spoke. "My lord-they're back."

The cloaked figure forged on without a word.

So he called out again, far more loudly this time. "Lord Hound!"

At the sound of the address, the man stopped. Turned his head.

"All three of them," the boy added. "They walk the earth again."

Beady eyes glared at him from within the lord's shadowy hood, narrowed darkly in doubt and distaste. "How do you know this, boy?"

Grey-blues glinted with pride, in possession of prized knowledge. "I've got my sources."

"You're hardly a credible source yourself," the old man scoffed.

"Want some proof, my lord?" the boy volunteered, waving his phone out in front of him, the illuminated screen casting a nimbus of white light amidst the night. Grinning smugly as the man approached. "The advances of modern technology. One of my sources, if you will."

The old lord grabbed it up, staring and blinking at the images awhile.

Three screenshots set beside each other. A feature from a college newsletter about a recent graduate writing for a travel guide; a tabloid article, headlined 'America's ex-supermodel sweetheart marries strapping veteran'; the website of some sordid nightclub in New York. All featuring photos, captioned with names.

He frowned. "Worthless pictures. These faces... they fit the descriptions, but this is no proof."

"Look at their names, my lord," the young informant urged. "The surnames, the first three letters of the given names... you take that as coincidence? You can't deny the truth, Lord Hound. It's fate."

The man sniggered and tossed the phone back to its owner.

"The Guild has been after the gods for millennia now, hasn't it?" the boy remarked. "Surely these three girls are at least worth looking into. If the Guild can be revived."

His phone then lit up with a call, a name flashing across the screen: Axel Golde.

"One of your 'sources'?" the old lord spat with a scornful sneer.

The boy shook his head. "A new recruit."

A snort, from inside the man's hood. "So you've been recruiting, now?"

"If we are to revive the Guild, we'll need-"

"You speak as if you're one of us. You're not."

"Not yet. But I've provided vital information, have I not? I reckon you intend to use it. I can see that it has... piqued your interest."

After a tense pause, the man spoke again. "You missed your call."

The boy shrugged. "I'll call him back once we're done here."

"We are," the lord declared, turning promptly upon his heel.

"Now, now..." the boy objected, pocketing his phone, reaching for something else, "for what I've given, don't you think some form of payment is in order?"

Apparently, the man thought no such thing; the boy could change his mind. Rose and lunged at him from behind, all of a sudden, in a scuffle ending with his switchblade poised against the elder's throat.

"Looks like your skills have faded, old Lord Hound," he hissed into his victim's ear, leering in victory. "I ask again-some payment?"

With a feeble gasp of fog, the lord gave in. "What do you want, boy?"

The leer widened. Darkened. "I want to follow in the footsteps of my forefathers. I want to join the Guild. To hunt those bitches down."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

... dun dun dun!!! o_o

Remember the Guild? Remember Axel Golde? (hehe, I know at least some of you do!) I'd love to hear your thoughts on these developments :D

*** For those who don't remember - the Guild formed in Scene 3.13, with the archer Ames at his son Donal's burial in 2020 B.C., vowing vengeance against Lachesis and her kind (i.e. supernatural beings walking among mortals, especially in the form of beautiful women). And Axel is Atria's lover from Episodes 1 & 2 who blames her for the death of his brother Ronan.***

Next scene - the second-to-last of Book I - we'll head back to the Cave... And if you liked this one, please don't forget to vote! :)

The Fates (Book I) - 2014 Watty Award Winner!Where stories live. Discover now