Le Jeune Guilavene

Chapter 21

Van paused to readjusted the sack on his should for the hundredth time that day. Dilandu had set a grueling pace and refused to slow for him, but would not let him fall behind either. Normally, the experienced hunter would not have had much trouble keeping up, but normally he would not have had a broken arm, a heavy sack, and lack of sleep dragging him down. His entire body ached with the strain of their upward climbd hed he was really beginning to hate the pale demon by the time they reached the top of a low mountain.
“We will rest here a while,” the demon prince said, admiring the view from the precipice of the mountain.
Van did not bother searching for a comfortable place to sit and merely collapsed, sitting in the middle of the earthen path.
“Ie yoe you,” the boy muttered.
Dilandu just smirked wickedly at him, then turned his gaze towards their destination. Before him stood a series of mountains, growing increasingly larger until he could not see beyond the great blue mass of rock, naked of trees and sprinkled with snow. All he had to do was get over the last mountain, and then he would be in his father’s kingdom. The Zaguraha would welcome back their prince and he would finally get a decent set of clothes and a good night’s sleep.
He looked back at the exhausted Van, who looked like he was going to fall asleep sitting up. Humans were such frail, pathetic creatures. He would have to remedy the boy’s weakness when he returned home. Idly, he wondered what sort of demon he should make his new slave. With his coloring, he would make a handsome Satza, like the hybrid child they left in Austoria, but that had been done to death. Dilandu wanted something a little more exotic.
A manic smtouctouched the pale demon’s lips as he thought of the perfect form for his stubborn and dangerous slave. Watching Van rest, his face tilted towards the sun to absorb its comforting heat, he could clearly imagine the desired body. Great leathery wings the color of rust and amber mounted between his slender shoulders, a long elegant tail of similar hues splayed in a loose circle around him, and his delicate fingers bearing slender black talons. The boy’s ears would be a bit more pointed and his measly fangs would grow considerably, but otherwise his pretty face would go unaffected. A Drian.ian.
Perfect.
“What the hell are you looking at?” Van snapped in annoyance.
As soon as he cut out his vocal chords.
“Nothing. The break is over. We are going now,” Dilandu stated.
The young mortal groaned and clambered to his feet. It seemed harder than it should have, and he wondered if he was going to make it to.. where ever they were going. Hopefully, Dilandu would not continue his crude seduction in the meantime. Folken was bad enough, but the demon prince.. well, he really was just about the same as his half-brother. He wondered if they realized how much a like they really were. Probably, and that is why they pissed off at each other so much.
These pessimistic thoughts were replaced with some new pessimistic thoughts. Climbing over the crest of the mountain after Dilandu, he could see the mountain range splayed out befohem.hem. Something akin to despair filled him. He would never survive them. Hells, he was surprised he survived getting to the top of this exaggerated hill.
“You have got be kidding me,” he groaned, feeling weaker than ever.
“Stop bitching. We are not walking the entire way,” Dilandu snapped impatiently.
Van sent him a questioning look and quickened his steps to stand near him. The demon prince rolled his eyes.
“Nazuco, the fire spirit I summoned, cannot appear in the sunlight. When night comes, I will summon her again and she will carry us to the foot of the tallest mountain. We will have to climb the rest of the way,” the albino explained tiredly, as if to an idiot.
“Why can’t Nazuco just fly over that mountain too? And if she is going to fly us there at night, why are we trekking all over this stupid mountain now? I’m fucking tired,” the mortal asked, a little pissed himself.
“Ch‘. The air is too thin for her to survive flying over the mountain.
As for why we are moving, it is simple really. If we stay still too long, Folken will find us. He’s annoying like that. Now shut up,” Dilandu commanded.
Van grunted in annoyance, but said nothing more. He had to agree with the pale demon on the Strategos. He was annoying with the tenacity in which he pursued his prey. However, at this point he was not certain if he did not want to be found. If he were honest with himself, he was more afraid of Dilandu than Folken. While he was not entirely certain what the winged demon wanted with him, he did have a good idea what the demon prince wanted and that was almost worse. But at the same time, if he escaped Dilandu, would the albino continue to pursue him as persistently as his half brother? He doubted it. The pale boy seemed more intent on reaching.. where ever it was they were going.. than about him, otherwise Van was certain he would have had his brains fucked out by now.
How reassuring.
Meekly, the dark child followed Dilandu deeper into the wilderness. He prayed silently to Pherowae, the Queen Goddess, who had marked the paths of his journey and protected him so far. Actually, now that he thought about it, he should pray to someone else.
She had not sent him down very helpful paths.

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Folken stared at Lizuza coldly, trying to hide growing impatience and anxiety in him as the old woman fluttered about her little shop, gathering the needed materials and singing to herself in her squeaky little voice. The storm demon owed him a favor and now was the time to call upon her services.
“So you want a storm? You’ll need to be a little more specific, my Lord. Do you want a rain storm or a snow storm or a thunderstorm? Shall I raise the sea into madness or set the mountains a trembling? Should a village be flooded or set ablaze? Or perhaps you would like a wind so powerful it can rip the flesh of the bones of men?” she asked, momentarily ceases her singing.
The winged demon shook his head.
“Nothing so dramatic. I merely need some rain, and perhaps a little lightening,” he said.
Lizuza looked disappointed, her wrinkled mouth frowning a bit. She carelessly tossed some of her collected items off into the corner, a glass bauble breaking on the floor and leaking a red substance that began to smoke and burn through the floor. With her remaining materials, she sat down at the table across from her demon lord and grabbed a nearby bowl, which looked suspiciously like a soup bowl.
“Very well, if that is all you want. You need only tell me where to send it.”
“Place it in the mountains, between Zaibach and the country of Austoria. It need not be too powerful, but it must last a few days. I should be able to take care of my business by then,” the Strategos said.
“Ahh... may I be so impudent as to ask what this business is?” the demons asked, almost demurely.
The pale demon sent her a sly smile.
“You shall meet him soon enough. In the meantime, however, don’t you think you should begin your craft? You have only till sunset to complete your work.”
The old woman chuckled to her self, a sound like stones in a boiling pot of water.
“You shall have your rain and your lightening, my dear Lord. You need not worry about that,” she cackled, already tossing sand and animal bones in her little bowl with seemingly careless abandon.
Folken left her then, listening to her mad laughter and tuneless bits of song. Lizuza was mad, that was no secret, but she was good at her craft and would not fail him. She was fond of him, after all. Trusting the demon to her work, he reentered the streets of his city, pulling his dark hood up over his face. Even with his identity concealed his people moved from his path as he approached, respectful of the power emanating from him. He returned to his castle unharrassed and prepared for himself to do battle with Dilandu.

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“Are you alright, Dryden?” Merle asked softly, as her fellow rider shifted yet again behind her.
The sword merchant grunted, unenthusiastically.
“It has just been a while since I’ve ridden these da- delightful creatures,” he managed to reply without swearing.
Dryden did not care for cussing. He thought it very crude and the bane of every language. However, half a day bouncing up and down on some smelly beast with dust in his face and the sun on his back, he houndound more than few colorful phrases popping into his head. What made his situation even more miserable was that he was the only one who seemed to be affecting.
Merle, being both young, durable, and an experienced rider seemed perfectly comfortable. If Allen felt anything at all, he did not show it. His handsome face held a grim and determined expression, and he was obviously thinking deeply on something. Balgus... well Balgus probably did not even yelp when he lost his eye so Dryden doubted he would care if he was sore from riding. As for the other, they were riding behind him and he was not going to bother looking back at them.
He was completely miserable, which said a lot since was usually an optimist. At the same time, he could not say he regretted his decision to come along. He was seeing destiny unfolding all around him and it felt incredible to have something tangible, when before he could only vaguely sense fate’s influence. Lady Sora was seeing it too, he was certain. Since he had met the quiet woman, she had become increasingly excited, though the change was subtle.
The sight of a town briefly distracted the merchant from thouthoughts and his physical discomfort. Allen also came out of his thoughts, riding quickly and loudly into the town’s square and then bringing his mount to an abrupt stop. Everyone followed his lead, already used to the routine and pulled off a little to the side to give their leader room.
They had been forced to stop at each of the towns and ask the locals if they had seen their quarry. Lady Sora seemed more adept at tracking at close distances, and had only been able to give them a general direction to go in. Merle was of little help so far as well, having caught no scent of Van, Dilandu, or the Strategos.
“I am Allen Liam Fanu Shezar de Palas. My party and I are on a mission, and would have world with your town’s leader,” the prince commanded, demanding immediate compliance.
Allen did not have to wait long. Half the town had heard the ruckus the hunting party had made upon entering the town and were filtering into the town square to what was happening, the town magistrate being one of them.
“What is the meaning of this, your highness?” the magistrate asked in his raspy tone.
The former captain looked down at the tall, skinny fellow sternly, causing the man to flinch.
“My men-”
Merle gave a sharp cough.
“My crew,’ Allen corrected, ‘and I are pursuing a demon and his hostage. Tell me, have you seen anything peculiar or suspicious last night or this morning?”
The magistrate thought for a moment, but the prince was already skeptical he would be of any help. The last two villages they had stopped in had nothing to say, except that few sheppard boys had seen the fire dragon passing last night. Suddenly the gangly man clapped his hands together.
“We had some gypsies pass by last night! Strange folk. They did not even stop to perform. Looked like they were in a hurry to get to the border. Bandits and thieves, the whole lot of them. But they did not have any warrants on them and they weren’t doing nothing, so I had to let them by. They shouldn’t be too far though, you could probably catch up to them if you wanted,” he said, looking proud at himself for saying something he thought was useful.
Allen, unfortunately, did not care about gypsies. He nodded politely and then quickly rode off, his party close behind. The town was just barely out of sight, however, when Lady Sora sped up her mount to pull along side the ex-captain.
“We should stop to speak with the gypsies, your highness,” was all she said and then quickly fell back beside Miguel again.
The blonde man said nothing, but knew he would follow her advice. If Balgus and his men trusted her, then who was he to ignore her advice? They followed the road at a hard pace, their beasts panting and grunting from exertion beneath them, until they came upon the aforementioned gypsies. Allen had barely stopped his garuuk before he jumped from its back and surveyed the startled people.
They were Fresian gypsies, he could tell. Dark skinned and dressed in rags of red, violet, and off white. The men were large, strong, and brutish. The women were generally fine featured and attractive, but something in their eyes would make one hesitant to take one to bed. The children were more ragged than the adults, their clothes little more than patched up hand-me-downs and they had no shoes. At first, Allen assumed that this was just what they normally looked like. He had no real experience with gypsies, but he knew they were pretty poor. It was not until he heard one of Balgus’ men ask why they looked so ragged that he began to wonder.
He approached them cautiously, keeping his hand as far from his sword as looked natural. The gypsies had stopped their caravan, but they looked unnerved by his presence and presence of his well armed men.
“I am Allen, and I would speak to the leader of your caravan,” he said simply, not bothering to elaborate his name this time.
“I am the caravan mother, and you bloody better have a good reason for stopp’n us, pup!” crowed an old woman from the front of wagon train.
She hobbled her way towards him, scowling and spitting. Allen was immediately struck by how ugly she was. Hideous, really. He fought down his first instinct to flinch away from her and merely watched her coolly. Her insults he ignored altogether. Hideous or not, she was an old woman and he was not about to scold her.
A moment later, a girl came up behind the old woman and followed her as if it were to be expected. She was considerably more attractive, but lacked the confidence of the old woman whom she hid behind.
“I do not wish your people any harm,’ he said, ‘I just wanted to ask you some questions.”
The old woman snorted.
“Ask then and be done with it. I won’t linger here all day,” she growled.
Allen looked back briefly at Lady Sora, who now stood beside Dryden. The both of them smiled and nodded for him to continue. He turned back to the old woman.
“We are searching for a demon and his hostage. Have you seen anything suspicious last night or this morning?”
The young woman standing behind the crone stared hard at the prince for a moment, as if trying to place him.
“No!” snapped the caravotheother and started to hobble off again, but the girl took her by the arm to stop her.
She knelt beside the old crone and whispered something into her ear. The ugly woman looked suddenly stunned, and turned to look back at Allen for a moment and then back at the girl. S he glowered darkly and then threw up her arms.
“You deal with them then, girl. I wash my hands of the matter,” she snapped and left the girl alone there.
The abandoned girl became a bit flustered for a moment, looking at the prince and his men and then back at the old woman. With forced composure, she managed to face him without fidgeting, and spoke.
“My name is Hitomi,” she said.
Allen bowed to her in recognition, and when he had straightened he saw she was blushing.
“You have something you wish to tell me?” he prompted.
“I dreamt you were coming.”
The former captain tilted his head curiously.
“You are looking for Van, aren’t you?”
“How did you know that?”
“I told you. I dreamt it. I’ve been dreaming about him for a couple weeks now. The little bugger stole my Magoman spirit and I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since!”
Allen gave her a confused look.
“Never mind,’ she said, ‘I’ve met Van. He stayed with our camp some time ago, hiding from that demon, though we didn’t know it at the time. That’s not important either, I suppose. At least not to you.”
“No, I’m sorry, it is not. I just need to find him,” the prince admitted.
Hitomi nodded a bit and then turned to point down the road.
“Follow this road and do not stop at the towns anymore. They can tell you nothing. Just keep riding this road until you come to a village nestled at the foot of the Frescan mountains. There are two paths leading into the mountains from there. Take the southeastern one and begin tracking Van from there,” she advised.
Allen’s mood brighten considerably with this new information. Gypsies were not known for their honesty, but he believed she was telling him the truth.
How she knew this all he could only guess, but he had resigned himself to the hand’s of Dryden’s fates and destinies since the beginning of the quest. He reached for his money pouch to pay her for her service, more than happy to reward her, but she shook her head quickly.
“Do not thank me,’ she said, ‘I may very well be sending you to your own death. Not that I could have prevented it one way or another. The fates being as meddlesome as they are these days. We can’t even avoid them. But that is neither here nor there.”
The blonde man had no idea what she meant by that, but assumed it was just how her people spoke. All riddles and vagueness. The caravan mother seemed
to have ordered everyone to start moving again, since the wagons all began to shift and crawl forward beside them. Hitomi seemed startled by their movement and quickly turned around to climb into the nearest wagon as if afraid they would sudden bolt away with out her.
“One more thing,’ she called back at him, ‘Take shelter at the next town. The weather is going to turn nasty.”

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“Master,’ Nariya pleaded, ‘Please let us go with you.”
“You know I cannot. I am not simply wind traveling, I am searching and for that I cannot carry you around,” Folken admonished, tightening his armored boot as he sat on his bed.
“It is not safe, though,’ Eriya interceded, adjusting the chain mail on his chest, ‘You will be fighting both Dilandu and Van with out any assistance. If you were hurt, no one would be able to reach you way out there. If you cannot take us, at least take someone else.”
“I am not fighting Van. In case you have forgotten, I have already broken his arm and Dilandu will not bother wasting the meager energy he has retained over the centuries to heal him,’ Folken corrected, ‘Also, I am hunting along the border of my father’s kingdom. If I should be harmed, he will send me help.”
“But doesn’t that apply to Dilandu, as well?” asked the Silver twin.
“Maybe. Either way I am still favored by the Emperor.”
The twins sighed in unison. Their master was usually a very sensible person, but in this particular matter he would not see reason. They watched him sadly as he stood and paced the room to make sure his gear was properly fitted. He had worn the exact same material the day he had gone to retrieve the new servant. Form-fitting black cloth and leather, over laid with mithril armor, while his immense ebony folded elegantly against his back. In addition to these he wore a helmet, again with black leather and mithril ed ied into strong, but handsome design to protect his face and head and conceal his stark white hair. It made him all the more handsome, but also more aloof than usual.
The Strategos glanced back at them, noting their depressed expressions. He really hated it when they looked at him that way.
“There is something that I would like you to do for me,” he said.
Their feline ears perked immediately with interest.
“I want you to rent a place to stay for us in Palas. I will need to stop there briefly before I take the boy home.”
“Palas? What in the world do you need to do there?” Eriya asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I made a bargain with Queen Eries there. While I botched the job she fulfilled her obligation, so I will honor our deal,” he said, smirking to himself.
“What?! You are really going to ally yourself to that... that woman?!” Nariya cried.
“Calm yourself. It is in our best interest to honor this pact. I n the end, we will be the ones to come out on top,” Folken crooned, walking towards the bed and caressing their cheeks affectionately.
“I cannot say that we always understand what you do,’ purred Nariya, ‘but you have never led us astray.”
“We yield to your better judgment,” Eriya continued, snuggling her master’s hand.
The winged demon smiled down at them.
“If only everyone else were as wise as you.”

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On the other side of Austoria still heading towards the mountainous border as fast as their riding elk could carry them, Allen and his crew sped down the seemingly endless road. Above them the sky was clear and sun still high, and a steady breeze had picked up to cool both man and beast as they traveled. The prince had not bothered speaking with the others about the conversation with the gypsy girl, knowing they had likely heard him anyway and not wanting to waste time with speculation.
However, the sudden and unexpected crash of thunder derailed this idea. The sky had still been bright and clear above them when something like an explosion sounded behind them. The riders were forced to come to a complete halt as their steeds jumped and bucked in surprise. By the time they had managed to gain control of their beasts a dark blanket of clouds could be seen speeding towards them from the direction they had come from, thunder and lightening following close behind.
“What in the seven levels of hell is this?” Gaddes cursed, watching the menacing storm clouds.
“This must have been what the little witch was talking about. But it’s not natural, whatever it is,” Balgus growled, uttering the first words he had spoken since that morning.
“Do you think it’s the Strategos sending something to delay us?” Allen asked.
“No,’ Dryden replied, ‘This is not meant for us. It will pass us by soon enough. In the meantime, I suggest we take the young woman’s advice and find a place to stop.”
“But what about Van? We’ll waste too much time if we stop now!” Merle protested.
“I would not worry about it. If this storm is heading where I think it is and the girl was telling the truth, then Dilandu and Van will be slowed a great deal more than we will,” the merchant reassured her.
“I agree with Dryden on this,’ Allen said, ‘We’ll find a tavern, rest, eat, and then be on our way again. Does anyone object?”
No one protested, and they quickly returned on their flight down the road, the storm hot on their heals.

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“You have got to be kidding me,” Dilandu spat as he stared out from the top of the second mountain they had climbed that day at the fast encroaching rain clouds.
Beside the pale demon, Van sat exhausted. Though the mountain air was considerably cooler than in the plains and forests, the young hunter panted like some beast and his clothes were wet and heavy with perspiration. The bag he had been carrying was now flung over his captor’s shoulder after it became obvious the boy was too weak to even grip properly. Staring out at the encroaching crowds, Van could not bring himself to feel anything except depressed. At this point, he did not care if Allen, Folken, or Skikos himself found him, just so long as he could rest.
“Damn that clever bastard,” the exhausted mortal heard Dilandu curse.
The demon prince turned his angry gaze upon Van, but realized it was
futile to get any response from him except a meaningless stare. Annoyed, he turned his attention around the mountain. It was not very high, being on the very outskirts of the mountain range and most of it was covered with more trees and grass than rocks, but Dilandu was determined to find some decent form of shelter. He glanced back at his captive who was still panting pathetically at his feet.
“I’ll be back in a moment. Stay here and don’t you dare try to run,” the pale demon commanded and then disappeared down one side of the mountain.
Van merely growled as Dilandu left him, knowing damn well he hadn’t the strength to stand at the moment let alone run. He fell backwards to lay on the stony soil, careful to avoid jarring his broken arm, and closed his eyes. He had not been this tired since those first few days of flight from Folken on the road, when he had not slept for almost a week. Again, the young hunter was reminded of the concept of fate running in a circular pattern. This situation seemed very like that day.
Van opened his eyes and glanced about, making sure no ludicrously ugly
women were going to sneak up on him. He saw no one, and smiled at his own
foolishness. Finding his humor intact brought a little strength back to his
spirit, and the boy rolled over and climbed to his knees.
“That’s it. No point in laying about like road kill,” he murmured to himself, forcing a grin.
With her her test of will, he managed to get to his feet, his legs wobbling about like some new born calf. Finally, he managed to get his bearings and was able to focus enough to walk around as if he were something other than an invalid. He circled the top of the little mountain, regaining a little more of his strength and a lot more of his anxiety as his thoughts returned to Dilandu.
There was no way he could escape the pale demon in his condition, but at the same time it was completely against his nature to just wait meekly for the little devil to come back. Suicide or surrender seemed to be his only options, and he did not care much for either. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, the decision was taken from him.
Turning around to survey another direction, he found himself face to face with the demon prince, who barely managed to grab hold of him before he accidentally leapt of the mountain in his surprise.
“Damn you to hell, Dilandu! What are you doing sneaking up on me?” the boy yelled, panting once again from the sudden fright.
The little imp just smirked at him arrogantly.
“Well, I am certainly glad to see you have regained at least some of your energy back,’ he crooned, ‘So now I won’t have carry you there.”
“There?’ the dark child asked, raising an eyebrow, ‘I hope you don’t mean hell, because sometimes I really can’t tell with you.”
“Flattery will get you so many places with me, Van, but in this case hell is not one of them... well, at least not for peasantry like you,” the demon prince finished dryly.
The captive just snorted, ignoring the insult. Bastard or not, he knew Dilandu did not mean a word of his ‘peasant’ comments. If he had thought of Van a merely a peasant, then he would have killed him long before now.
“Come on then, whelp,’ Dilandu ordered, seizing him by the shirt, ‘I am not going to be caught in the rain because of you.”
That said, the demon proceeded to drag Van down southern side of the mountain towards a thickly wooded area. The mortal struggled to keep up without stumbling and breaking his leg, but he had a sneaking suspicion Dilandu was intentionally being unhelpful as an act of retributions for some perceived offense when their position had been reversed.
“Will you knock it off!’ growled Van, tripping over some random rock, ‘You are going to kill me like this!”
The wicked smile he received in return caused his throat to tighten, and no words could leave his mouth. He remember that smile. That was the smile he had received outside the Pherowaean temple when the little devil had tried to seduce him.
Oh damn.