Tyrant's Stars: Parts Three and Four (41 page)

The other man didn’t reply. He just stood motionless, looking up at the count as if in a daze.

Feeling something was wrong with that vacant stare, Braujou continued, “I hear you’ve agreed to treat Valcua—is that true?”

Nothing from the other man.

“Since you don’t deny it, I’ll take that as an admission of guilt. But why?”

Not a word.

“As you won’t answer me, I shall have to consider you a traitor and deal with you appropriately. You understand that, don’t you?”

Silence.

A vein in the count’s temple wriggled like a fat worm. He uttered a curse that made his horse rear, and when its front legs touched the ground again, the Nobleman timed a thrust of his spear to coincide with it.

Without time to flee, D was pierced through the chest.

A cry of surprise rang out, but it came from Braujou. His spear had stopped dead, pinned under D’s left arm.

“Shit! Damn you!” Count Braujou cursed.

Hoisting his spear into the air, D and all, the count hauled back fiercely and snapped the shaft forward again.

Smashing into the mound of rubble, D was immediately buried beneath falling stones and chunks of concrete.

“Most disappointing. I’d expected much better from him,” Braujou said, but before he’d finished voicing his disappointment, he was struck by a flying chunk of concrete. He went numb above the shoulder. The size of the piece was partly to blame, but the count was also injured.

Another chunk came. This one he impaled. As D appeared, pushing his way out of the rubble, the count hurled the concrete back at him.

D batted it aside. The five-ton chunk of rubble was sent flying to his left with ease, where it immediately disappeared into the darkness. Off in the distance, a great thud echoed.

Wheeling his steed around, the Nobleman raced toward his opponent. But he wasn’t there.

Both the count and his horse rose in the air. Hurled before he could even cry out, Braujou executed a flip in midair and landed neatly, while to his right the cyborg horse smashed to pieces.

“You bastard—I was right about you!”

Not the least bit bothered by the spearhead he’d extended, D walked toward the count.

With a murderous howl, Braujou made a horizontal swipe of the long spear at the scruff of his adversary’s neck. The incredible force of the impact numbed the Nobleman’s very brain, but his eyes opened wide to find D with his left hand raised to ward off the blow, and now he was charging forward at full speed. A twisted metal fragment gleamed in his right hand. Thrown off balance and unable to do anything, the count cried out as the piece of metal whistled toward his face.

There was a sound of otherworldly beauty. And then the count saw it. He saw a sword blade biting into the metal fragment that had been brought down at him like a dagger.

Instinctively turning his gaze toward his savior, the count exclaimed in astonishment, “D! It seems I had the wrong man.”

Looking at the silvery D even the count had doubted at first, the D in black told him, “I’ve been looking for you. Fighting myself would be rather bizarre. If possible, put on a different face.”

The metal fragment was quickly drawn back.

“Is that. . . me?” the silvery D said in a tone devoid of cadence. “What am I doing here? Who are you?”

“I don’t know,” D replied. “What I do know is that there’s a certain man who has business with you. I need you to come with me.” “Okay,” the man in silver said without argument, discarding the metal fragment.

D sheathed his sword as well. From up in the saddle, he called over to Count Braujou, “What’ll you do?”

“The only thing I can. Since my horse was smashed, I have no choice but to go with you. But now that we come to it—which one of you Ds agreed to treat Valcua?”

“Let’s go.”

Saying this, D started to lead the way, with the silvery version of himself and Braujou following behind him.

“How long will it take to reach that villain’s castle?” Braujou asked. “We should get there just past noon tomorrow.”

“What?”

“If you don’t like that, walk faster. You can even run if you like.” So great were the count’s anger and horror, he didn’t even notice that the Hunter’s final remarks had been in a terribly hoarse voice.

Fortunately, there was no need to run. After traveling for about three hours, they ran into Duchess Miranda with the count’s car.

“I told you to wait there,” the vehicle’s owner said, unable to admit he was glad to see it and her.

“Aren’t you less than charming,” Miranda countered.

Sue and Matthew had already fallen into the enemy’s hands, and now the two Nobles and the other two passengers were racing full speed across the plain by night. Was it to rescue the Dyalhis children, or to satisfy their own plans?

The moonlight was pregnant with premonitions of blood.

Presently, large buildings unlike anything they’d seen before filled either side of the road. The group didn’t know that at one time, two men had traveled out there and seen those same buildings. Their skeletons now lay by the side of the road. They caught D’s eye from the back of his horse, but he rode past the remains without saying a word.

“At long last. This really gets the blood pumping,” Braujou said to the duchess, who was behind him.

When she didn’t reply, he added, “Doesn’t it?” And then he turned to face her.

“She’s gone,” he mumbled to himself. No one could understand the comings and goings of the elusive beauty.

In no time, enormous steel gates opened to greet D and the car. The road ran through a front yard that seemed to stretch on as endlessly as the plains, eventually leading to the entrance of an oddly shaped castle.

Countless figures were lined up to greet them—women in white gowns and men in black formal wear. When D and Count Braujou dismounted, the greeters bowed in unison and sang out, “For Grand Duke Valcua!” Though they had the outward appearance of human beings, it was plain to see they were actually androids.

“Now
that’s
what I call a fine reception,” Braujou remarked with a satisfied snort.

Buffered by nearly a hundred men and women, the three guests were ushered into a stunningly opulent hall. Beneath a golden chandelier the size of a small ship there was a sofa, and it was there that Valcua lay.

“Now this is really something,” a hoarse voice from the vicinity of D’s left hand said with admiration. It wasn’t talking about the bejeweled splendor of the room. It was commenting on Valcua’s willingness to appear before would-be assassins in his injured state.

“You seem to be one shy,” was the first thing Valcua said.

“She does have a tendency to wander,” Braujou replied. “By now, she’s probably turned herself into a set of sheets so she can kill you in your sleep.”

Ignoring the count, Valcua asked, “When did you get treatment, D?”

There was no reply.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. I’m quite pleased you found that fellow. Now, would you be so kind as to turn him over to me?"

“Give us the children first.”

“Excuse me?”

“If you don’t wish to, I’ll cut him down here and now,” D said, using his left hand to grab the other young man by the arm.

Rubbing his head, Valcua replied, “This will never do. What if I were to tell you I’ll kill them both if you don’t hand him over?”

“Then you’d die too,” D answered flatly.

With a wry grin, Valcua said, “Good enough. At any rate, I shall let you see they’re unharmed. Bring them!”

Less than five minutes after the grand duke gave this command, Sue entered, surrounded by guardroids. “D!” she cried, and no one tried to stop her from running over to him. The grand duke was being generous in that regard.

“And what of her brother?” Braujou inquired.

“He escaped," said Valcua.

“What?”

“He was here just a short time ago. The surveillance system shows no trace of an intruder. However, it did record her brother talking to someone who couldn’t be seen.”

“I see,” Braujou groaned in a low voice.

“For the time being, you’ll have to settle for just that one,” Valcua said. “Everything else can wait until my treatment is finished. That’s when your fates, too, shall be decided.”

They all looked like they had bathed in blood. Even their eyes seemed to give off blood light. Braujou, Valcua, his retainers— all of them. The only one whose eyes remained crystal clear was D.

“First, relinquish that man,” Valcua said, extending one hand.

“No,” D replied, as Sue took cover behind him.

“Oh, really?”

“You’ll get your treatment after we have both the Dyalhis children.”

Their gazes met in midair, sending invisible sparks flying. The grand duke’s underlings stiffened. So intense was the killing lust between these two, it even caused androids to malfunction.

“I’d like to ask you something first,” Count Braujou said, raising his right hand.

“And what might that be?” Valcua replied.

“Who is this fellow? Why does he wear D’s face?”

“He got it from the Sacred Ancestor. I was told to bring him out in my hour of direst peril. Perhaps D’s face is more fetching than the other ones.”