The Eternals Collection

Chapter 9

I awoke with a wrenching start, feeling like my whole body had been slammed against a brick wall. By instinct, I pushed on the coffin lid, realised it pinned, and reacted accordingly. Rage erupted. I shoved for all I was worth until whoever sat upon the coffin was thrown off. The freed lid flew open, and I rolled out onto the stone floor. The coffin lay upon its side and me along with it. My latest home had been tossed against the far wall. Not a good beginning to my day!

Determined to get to the bottom of such an insult to my rest, I dashed out of the room and through the barren halls. Not a soul did I see until I burst out of the palace and into the clear half-light of a gibbous moon. Mystery solved: we had landed.

We appeared to have come to a standstill at the base of an enormous valley. Towering either side of the mobile city were mountains of such jagged viciousness I would have considered them all but impassable, even to such as I. If I"d seen dragons belching fire atop them, it would not have surprised, but then I always was a fantasist.

“Did we wake you, Jean?” came the booming voice of the Marquis along with an accompanying slap to my back. I turned to my host, gave him one of my most withering stares, which caused his jowls to wobble in shock, before he regained his jovial attitude and continued. “Sorry about the landing, dear boy, but it was a tricky manoeuvre to get us in-between these infernal mountains.”

“And where might these so-called infernal mountains be?” I asked with no let up in temper. The Marquis pulled me forward a few yards then stuck his stubby finger into the air at an acute angle. My eyes followed his indication to a spot way up in the aether. There, perched upon some of the darkest, sawtoothed rocks I"d ever seen, stood a fortress of rusting iron that looked like something from an ancient Brothers Grimm publication I"d once read. “That has not enlightened me in the slightest,” I remarked.

“Vladivar,” was all that escaped the Marquis" mouth.

I was afraid of no man, I had never known fear in my lifetime, only apprehension, and on a rare occasion discomfort, but I felt a chill go through the marrow of my spine. This was the home of Crown Prince Vladivar of the Red Alliance. The man"s cruelty was beyond any other, legendary in his dislike of all but himself and those he allied with. He was perhaps the closest thing to a vampire of old that remained in our fractious world. That we had come so far in such short time, shocked; to have landed, disturbed; to have seen the man stood besides King Rudolph so recently, troubled me deeply.

“Are you well, Jean?” the Marquis mocked, although it was clear he was as much if not more uneasy, than I.

“Oh, quite well, Vincent. I just regret meeting so auspicious a ruler as Crown Prince Vladivar attired as a vagabond.”

“Good grief, man” spluttered the Marquis. “I truly am sorry. We shall remedy half of that problem this instant.”

“Half?” I said, with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, you"ll always be a vagabond, but at least you can be a well presented one.”

“Indeed,” I acquiesced, as Sunyin appeared from nowhere and gestured for me to follow.

I wallowed in indecision behind the graceful monk. The desire to flee was of high priority but I suspected it would avail me nothing if the likes of Vladivar chose pursuit. He would undoubtably find me if he desired it. The man controlled the resources of half the civilised world. When the Americas was left to its own morbid devices and the few remaining Eternals came east, they flocked to the prime cities of Paris, Munchen, and a lesser extent, New Washington that which was once Vienna. After all, why would one leave their own country to take residence in its miniature? However, none travelled as far as the boundaries of the conjoined rivers, Volga and Tigris, the two manipulated to slice the eastern continent in twain after the Black Sea evaporated. Why it was such a big deal, I never knew, as one could virtually jump the thing, anyway. Everyone knew that Vladivar"s dark presence was the only deterrent required to prevent its being crossed. Then again, who"d want to?

Sunyin led me to a chamber which I assumed belonged to the Marquis himself as it was far more ostentatious than the rest of Shangri-La. The man was obviously not quite the pillar of serene humility he purposed to be. Drapes and mirrors adorned three of the walls the other quarter comprised of one massive, polished, wooden wardrobe. Sunyin walked over to this, threw open the doors, and gestured for me to take my pick. It was an easy decision to make: black trousers; black, silk shirt; long, black jacket. I did not choose new boots, even though they abounded, as a man should never be parted from his own. A man"s boots contained the history of his wanderings and I had no intention of giving mine up. I washed at a gold tapped, porcelain sink and soon felt more my old self again. Sunyin waited patiently throughout sitting cross-legged on the floor. The man seemed to have entered some kind of meditative state. I walked up to him, waved my hands before his face, then kicked at his sandalled foot.

“Go away!” he shouted.

“Pardon?”

The monk opened brown eyes to a look of horror at his outburst.

I am not one for laughing out loud, only the most vulgar mannered do, but I couldn"t help doing so. The shock of what he had done was made all the more amusing by the continual head bowing he insisted upon in supplication.

“I forgive you, for God"s sake,” I eventually barracked. This appeared to do the trick. Sunyin shot to his feet and led the way from the room through the winding passages and back to the main gate –repaired, I noted – where the Marquis sat upon a white horse of some magnificence. It amazed me that so slug-like a form could even balance upon such a beast, never mind ride it. There was no sign of such a steed, or any steed, for myself or the assembled monks.

Thus gathered, I noticed for the first time something uncanny about the inhabitants of Shangri-La: they were all identical. All except Sunyin that was, who wore an orange sash to his russet tunic whereas the rest wore brown. I tried not to show my interest in the monks but the Marquis" limpet-like eyes were already upon me. A little of the snake showed for the first time reminding me of my previous distaste for the man; first impressions and all that.

“Are you ready, Jean?” the Marquis asked, unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice.

“Oh, indeed. I cannot wait to meet Crown Prince Vladivar. I hear we share the same stylist.”

“Really,” the Marquis said with a slight sneer. “We shall soon see.”

The massive door-come-gate opened to the unhealthy sight of heaped black rocks rising, which rose to a vertical point of neck craning unease. I sauntered out after my host who obviously felt it his honour to lead the way. I didn"t object, he could lead all he wanted.

Like a great serpent of old our procession slithered along until finding a set of steps cut deep into the rock face. Single file was all that was manageable there, the way marked by its bottlenecked route. I noted the Marquis sent two monks on ahead. The man"s desire to lead had lasted less than five minutes, rather in the same mould as my interest, which had already peaked and was on the wane.

Eternals do not feel fatigue, but the boring monotony of step after rocky step soon showed upon my otherwise calm facade.

“Do you have to kick stones over the edge, Jean?”

“I don"t have to, but I enjoy listening to them clatter. It breaks the tedium of walking.”

“Well, I"d rather you didn"t. You might hit one of my men on the way up.”

He was right, I might have, but my aim had been a little off. “For you, Vincent, anything.”

“Thank you,” he muttered and turned back to his corpulent jiggling.

I pitied the horse terribly who I suspected of having being genetically altered to cope with its gelatinous burden. The hypnotic effect of said flesh, which bounced before me in unending ripples, drove me almost insane. My simmering temper remained checked only by my ennui.

An hour or more passed with no sign of moon or stars, both obliterated by a semi-permanent sheaf of cloud. That did not stop me taking in the full magnificence of the then distant Shangri-La. Without the distraction of being a hunted man, I could better appreciate the immensity of its construction and the worrying departure of its means of propulsion. Like the miniature balloons they were derived from the Zeppelins appeared to have popped from existence never to be seen again. Shangri-La sat marooned.

The Zeppelins" removal was a nifty trick that I added to my list of required explanations without ever supposing I"d receive a satisfactory answer. But their departure ruled out another means of escape and that troubled. I had to, however, appreciate the irony of a city in constant motion being the source of spiritual enlightenment. If it was so hard to find there was no wonder wandering pilgrims could never reach nirvana.

I thought we"d never crest the razor-edged massif when suddenly we did. The two leading scouts babbled such a commotion that I was on the cusp of ripping out their throats when the Marquis levelled out before me and I followed suit. The iron monstrosity that greeted our eyes was not the most inviting site, but it was at least something other than black rock and blubber.

“Vladivar"s palace,” the Marquis stated.

“Castle,” I corrected.

“Don"t tell him that or you"ll doom us both,” the Marquis whispered.

“So you fear him,” I muttered under my breath.

“What was that?”

“I said, I shall tell the Crown Prince whatever I wish. A palace is a symbol of magnificence and a reflection of the society it is central to. This bunion on a craggy arse is a symbol meant to inspire fear and nothing more. It is therefore a castle and a morbid one at that. The obnoxious place reminds me of a haemorrhage that requires treatment.”

The Marquis beckoned me with a chubby digit as the rest of our procession made the mountain"s summit. Not wishing to get within jowl splashing distance of the man, I edged a little closer to the horse. Oozing over the side of his mount the rotund Marquis smiled a crooked smile and said, “We shall see if you are so brave in his company, Jean. I venture to say, you shall not. In fact, I"d even bet your life on it.” I did not appreciate the accompanying vile wink.

“I have no life, dear sir, so that bet"s null and void before we start. And, I reiterate for those with blocked ears, I kowtow to no man, least of all an old world lunatic.”

I savoured the look of fury that flushed across the Marquis" face. His mouth puckered, eyes squinted, and hands tightened on their reins and I knew that instant he hated me. All those years of knowing his wife despised him, yet longed for me; knowing that the world would end with she basking in her own vice and he having encouraged it by his own ineptitude. But what really burned him was the fact I couldn"t care less.

A noise shattered the tension, as of lost souls being dragged from heaven, a moaning of such magnitude that many of the monks covered their ears to it. As one, we all spun toward the racket to see the enormous twin gates of Vladivar"s domain opening inwards. The wolf ushered us into its maw. I did not like it one bit. But everyone"s seeming inability to move drove me to lead the way, and I strode towards the behemoth that was Vladivar"s home. Only Sunyin had the nerve to follow me.

The Marquis waited awhile before plucking up the nerve to do so too, though I observed he made certain to be enveloped by a cavalcade of surrounding monks. Coward!

I walked straight through the gates to be met by the rising towers and turrets of this iron world. Not a soul was there to greet or meet us. I found myself in the awkward position of not knowing what to do next. I had no desire to march into the place, nor did I wish to turn around and high-tail it back whence we"d come. There was also the little factor of sunrise which would not give enough time to make the return journey without being incinerated; I had no intention of becoming so.

I was about to shout the Marquis over from whatever burrow he was contemplating wobbling to when Sunyin tugged at my sleeve making me start. The little fellow pointed to a dim corner of the courtyard we"d entered, where I was to realise we were not as alone as first thought. There were eyes upon us in this darkest of realms. Two old men, silver-haired and dressed from neck to toe in black, iron armour, stood motionless. The two sized our party up. I could feel it, and I did not like it. That feeling of not being in control clawed at the demon all Eternals kept locked away inside. My own, I knew from experience, should never be allowed to reach the surface. So, to a look of horror from Sunyin, I marched straight up to the guards.

There was nothing to be said that a look would not cover, so I gave the pair one of my best, just you try it, withering glares.

The two old men hung their heads as my eyes glowed to supernova. Their rattling armour suggested I"d made my point. Their wills were no match for my own.

“Where is Crown Prince Vladivar"s fabled hospitality?” I growled, whilst wanting to laugh at my own joke. The two old men, who now stank of fear, didn"t answer, instead, turned to the almost invisible door they protected and gestured. “When I talk you will be courteous enough to answer!” I demanded. One of the two kept pointing whilst the other opened said door and held it ajar. That was not the response I"d asked for and for a moment I lost myself. One of the two, I do not remember which, landed across the courtyard in a heap, as monks scattered backwards and forwards. The other man found himself pinioned to the side of the door. The trickling liquid that leaked from his armour only furthered my anger. I could not have been held responsible for my actions if not for a gravel-voiced intervention.

“Release him, Jean.”

It looked like the commotion had attracted the master"s attention and a multiplicity of his minions, too.

“You should teach your dogs better manners,” I snarled.

“Did he not answer you as you wished, tovarisch?”

“You know he did not.” I was calmer than before, but still angry, and had no intention of backing down even to an army.

“Not only do I know he did not, but I know he could not. He is mute as is his brother.”

Despite feeling a fool I still felt slandered by the actions of the two silver-haired guards. I should have put the man down gently and asked if his brother was well, but the red mist lingered and I dropped him in a pool of his own urine, instead.

Vladivar looked at the guard horrified, then to his horde, then laughed like the devil he was. I"d made a greater enemy than before, but had his respect. However, that did not stop Vladivar"s horde pouring past me into the courtyard. A section of his men, with the master of the castle at their point, surrounded me and the gallant Sunyin, whilst the rest streamed into the courtyard.

I"d seen many terrible deeds done by Eternals, and in particular the Hierarchy, I"d even perpetrated some myself, but I"d never known anyone act as they did to others of their kind. A section of Vladivar"s men tore into the passive monks with the ferocity of rabid dogs. The double scimitar flash of eastern teeth sank into the monk"s jugulars with sickening squelch after squelch. In a throwback to some middle-aged nightmare, Vladivar"s horde acted like vampires of old. The courtyard was awash in blood and a familiar scent I couldn"t quiet place.

Poor Sunyin looked aghast. The fellow"s face had turned alabaster white as his head dropped to his chest. Those that surrounded us and their master laughed and cheered, joked and jeered; it sickened me to the bone. I would pay them back for what they had done.

Vladivar beamed across at me throughout the s*******r. The dark one judged my every reaction and I his.

We stayed that way, observing the crimson chaos, until with a nod of his vicious head, Vladivar allowed the rest of his men to feed. They did not need telling twice.

The Crown Prince sauntered to my side, towering over even me in his obsidian armour, and put a gauntleted arm around my shoulders like an old friend; I was not his friend nor ever would be. He then led me away from that living hell and instead into its lair.

“You enjoyed the show, da?”

“I can"t say I did, actually.”

“You didn"t? But that is our nature, Jean. Do you not yearn to release the beast within?” Vladivar"s jet-black eyes burned with the flickering torchlight of his domain.

“First, only my friends call me, Jean. Second, how do you know me? Third, don"t you think the mediaeval look is, well, a little mediaeval?” I sneered the last point in an attempt to show my contempt for him. I did not care what retaliation I provoked as I was already way beyond the point of discretion.

Vladivar looked at me with something akin to pleasure lying behind those tar pit eyes. I took in his scarred skin, chiselled, square face and close cut hair. He was a hard man to age. I knew him one of the oldest of our kind, but outwardly he looked no more than forty in the way people"s ages used to be calculated. He was a predator in preparation, an animal waiting to strike and not because he had to, it was all just a game.

“I call you Jean because you have no other name and have as much reason to call you it as anyone else, after all, you are friendless. Everybody knows you, Jean: noble; insouciant; deadly. You are a man whose reputation precedes him, tovarisch. It is because you are the way you are that you are not lying in a heap with your shaven-haired friends. And if anyone on this pathetic planet can appreciate the lure of the old ways it is you, so don"t act all coy.”

“They were not my friends.”

“Your look said different.”

“My look was one of disgust.”

“Well, we are simple folk here, Jean, with simple furnishings and simple lives. One could argue it the way a vampire is supposed to live.”

“They could argue it, but they"d be wrong. And I am an Eternal, not a common or garden vampire such as yourself.”

“In your opinion, tovarisch. In your opinion,” he repeated.

Philosophical though our chat was it did not disguise the fact he led me into ever darker halls, ever deeper corridors. It was no surprise when Vladivar strode down a final grotty corridor populated by many guards to a single doorway with a serving hatch. Through said door I was taken and deposited within by my host.

“I"m sorry it has to be this way, but I"m not sure I can trust you to roam my palace unattended.” Vladivar"s grating voice took pleasure in his taunts.

“I would not trust me either. I have a habit of stealing soap from the places I frequent.”

“Oh, that"s right, I forgot, you are a vagabond, a man with no home. Well, Jean, this can be your new home,” he said, removing his arm from my shoulders and giving one a pat as he left my windowless room.

The door closed behind him with a sickening thud. I was left in the dark, musty oblivion of an oversized stone coffin as the laughter from outside faded away.

I examined my prison, all five-feet square of it. There was no way out. So, I did the only thing I could, I sat down, legs curled beneath me, locked my eyes on the doorway, and waited.