The Rose Princess (3 page)

Although Elena tried to aim her gas-powered launcher purely out of reflex, the dark
red stain across her field of view wouldn’t allow her to do so. She had to wonder
which would come for her instead: the steely blade or the bloody lance? The face of
the girl was stained with the hues of blood and death.

Just then, the vermilion curtain was torn in two, as if to announce the beginning
of a new tale.

Even the deadly knights and their mounts averted their gaze and backed away from the
wind that gusted down the road.

But the bizarre phenomenon ended quickly.

And everyone who looked up then saw it—an inky black horse and rider advancing eerily
through the corpses and the stakes. For some reason, it would’ve seemed a terribly
appropriate image in anyone’s eyes.

The teeth of skulls still impaled on the stakes chattered in the wind. The green grass
bowed, and the sun—ever generous with its light—ducked behind a cloud at that very
moment.

Everything else was forgotten as they gazed intently at the new arrival.

About ten feet from the Red Knight the rider came to a halt. The face below the traveler’s
hat was not of this world. It was unearthly in its beauty.

Even the wind died out, as if it, too, was awestruck.

“Clear the way,” said the traveler.

“And just who are you?” asked the Red Knight. “This is our mistress’s domain. No one
may enter. Leave at once.”

However, didn’t the knights currently have orders to kill any intruders on the spot?
What did these merciless killers sense in the young man before them?

“The village of Sacri lies ahead, doesn’t it? I have business there,” the young man
said, not seeming the least bit hesitant. His long hair fluttered in the breeze.

“Oh, so you want to die, do you?” the Blue Knight said to him. “What’s the matter,
Red Knight?” he then asked his comrade. “Have this man’s good looks got the better
of you? If that’s the case, I’ll handle this.”

Needless to say, he was joking. The Blue Knight knew better than anyone the skill
of his crimson compatriot, as well as his cruelty and his valor.

And that was why it was only natural that he was dumbstruck when the Red Knight told
him, “You’re welcome to try.”

“What?” the Blue Knight asked in return, but that was only after the space of two
breaths had passed.

“I leave him to you. Give it a try.”

The reply had certainly come from the Red Knight. And the crimson rider had even fallen
back to the edge of the road.

The mayor, Elena, and the bikers all just stared, dumbstruck. One of the Four Knights
of the Diane Rose was backing down—was this some sort of waking nightmare?

As if nothing at all had happened, the young man gave a kick to his mount’s flanks.
He advanced without a glance at the headless corpses still locked in an embrace or
the mayor that stood beside them—but the Blue Knight was waiting up ahead.

—

II

—

As they watched the distance dwindle between the two figures, the mayor and the others
wore strangely calm expressions. Finally, normalcy had returned to the world. Finally,
the Blue Knight would fight. That was what they honestly believed. That’s how unnatural
it had been for the Red Knight to let the young man in black pass.

The Blue Knight adjusted his grip on his lance.

There was fifteen feet between them.

The green grass twisted plaintively, singing a song.

—

Halt, I say, halt,

Or one of you shall die!

—

Ten feet.

The Blue Knight’s horse whinnied loudly, as if trying to repress its urge to bolt.

Dark clouds crowded the sky.

Five feet—now.

The Red Knight suddenly looked over his shoulder—out at the grassy plains. “Hold,”
he cried. “His honor the Black Knight is on the way.”

Another figure on horseback was galloping toward them from the farthest reaches of
the emerald expanse. As his name implied, the knight on the horse’s back was encased
in black armor. Even if the Red Knight hadn’t referred to him as “his honor,” the
sight of him streaking through the sea of grass with thundering hoof beats and bounding
onto the road certainly had all the impact of an iron spike of immeasurable weight.

The young man halted his horse, too.

Tilting his onyx helm to survey the carnage, the knight spat, “How callous. Are you
idiots responsible for this?” His voice was also as heavy as iron.

“I resent that remark, sir,” the Blue Knight declared.

“Silence!” the Black Knight roared like the crashing of the distant sea, and with
that single word the other two stilled. “I have no objection to you killing those
who flee,” he went on to say. “Such is in keeping with the wishes of our princess.
But you’ve gone and taken the lives of even the youngest of children. We are
not soulless demons! Mr. Mayor, our princess is sure to make reparations
for the children at a later date. See to it that no one else discards their life
in such a manner again.”

The old man bowed his head without saying a word.

Then the sound of hoof beats reached the ears of all present. Incredibly enough, the
young man in black had continued riding on. Bold, perhaps even impudent, the move
was so far from expected norms that the Blue Knight and Red Knight could only watch
mutely as he went.

“Wait,” the Black Knight called out.

The traveler in black kept going.

Perhaps expecting as much, the knight in the jet-black armor didn’t have a mote of
wrath in his voice as he said, “I would have your name.”

“D.”

At that point, a single ray of sunlight poked through the clouds to illuminate the
young man’s face. His fairly bloodless complexion was given a rosy hue—that was how
beautiful he seemed.

Gasps arose from those on the road, and a murmur rumbled through them like the tide.
Elena was the first to make a sound, with her compatriots following suit after.

“I’ll remember that name,” the Black Knight called out.

The young man who’d given his name as D rode off calmly, as if he hadn’t been witness
to this tragedy in broad daylight.

At some point, the knights had disappeared, too.

“We’ll bring the bodies back,” said Torsk. “Give me a hand with them.”

Seemingly oblivious to the way the other bikers scrambled forward at the mayor’s request,
Elena alone kept a dumbfounded gaze turned toward town—the direction the gorgeous
young man had gone. “You see that?” she asked.

Another biker who was about to walk by her stopped in his tracks and replied, “See
what?”

“They didn’t make a move against that guy,” Elena said as if she were still dreaming.
Perhaps she was. “Three of the Diane Rose knights—and they were practically cowering,
and couldn’t even draw on him. He might be the guy to do it. He could save us all,”
the girl muttered, her tightly clenched fist making her resolve abundantly clear.

Beside her, the grass whispered,

—

What’s that you say?

—

The young man’s visit couldn’t help but cause a great sensation in the tiny village.
People stopped in their tracks and stared as D rode down the street. Dazed, they continued
to stare off in the same direction for a long time after he’d gone. Every single person
with a scarf around their neck pressed down on it with terrible embarrassment, and
then hung their head.

“I wonder which inn he’ll be staying at?” women muttered, irrespective of age.

“Did you see that sword, and the look in his eye? There’s nothing ordinary about him,”
the men said to each other.

Contrary to the women’s expectations, D didn’t end up registering at any of the village
inns. Halting in front of a house on the outskirts of town, he got off of his horse
and rapped on the door with a knocker fashioned from animal bones. The sign next to
the door had the words
Mama Kipsch—Witch Doctor
burnt into it.

After a moment, an elderly woman’s voice from behind the door asked, “Who is it?”

“A traveler,” D replied. “Are you Mama Kipsch?”

“Just ask anyone.”

“I have a message from your grandson.”

In the middle of her heavily wrinkled face, her eyes opened as wide as they’d go.
Then she said, “That good-for-nothing brat—I don’t see how he could do this. Where
is he at, anyway?”

“He passed away.”

“What?!” the old woman exclaimed, her body growing stiff as a mannequin. Her blue
eyes said that the young man before her was some beautiful grim reaper. “Now wait
just one second,” she stammered. “What do you mean by that? Tell me more.”

“He was hung up on the riverbank about six miles south of your village. He told me
his name as well as your own and where you lived, then asked me to tell you, ‘Take
care,’ before he passed away. And now I’ve done that.”

“Yup,” the old woman said with a nod. By the time she’d returned to her senses, the
man in the black coat was back on his horse.

“Wait just one minute. Hey!” she wheezed as she raced out the front door and grabbed
hold of one of his saddlebags. “Aren’t you the inhospitable one. My, but you are a
looker, though.” Feeling the pulse in her right hand, she added, “Look, you’ve gone
and got me up over a hundred fifty beats per minute. I’ve gone through two artificial
hearts already, you know. Putting in a third would probably be the death of me. If
I die, it’ll all be your fault,” she told the traveler. “I’ll haunt you till the end
of your days!”

“I’m used to it.”

At D’s reply, Mama Kipsch looked up at him as if just coming back to reality. It seemed
that while she’d been gazing at him intently, she’d even forgotten how short of breath
she was. Nodding, she said, “Is that a fact? I suppose you would be, at that. You’ve
got an unbelievable aura. I didn’t think I should’ve been that winded after running
just a tad. But now I see you scare the hell out of me. How many people have you killed
with that sword, anyway?”

“If you have no business with me, I’ll be going.”

“I said wait, blast it! If you’re always that cold to folks, you won’t meet a pretty
end.” Mama Kipsch then added, “Though I suppose even if you aren’t cold, you still
won’t have a peaceful death. Wait, already! Whatever became of my grandson’s remains?”

“I let them float down the river,” D replied. “Those were his instructions.”

“That’s a lie,” the old woman said, stomping her foot angrily. “Who in the world would
ask someone to chuck their body in a river? For starters, if it was only six miles
from here, that wouldn’t have been very far to bring him back. I think you’re trying
to hide something.”

“He said he didn’t want you to see the body. By the look of it, he’d hit quite a few
rocks on his way down the river. Do you want to hear the details?”

“No, spare me.”

“I’ll be on the edge of town,” D told her. “Find me if there’s anything else you want
to know.”

As the horse began to move, Mama Kipsch let go of it.

Once the rider had gone so far he wouldn’t have seen her if he’d turned and looked,
a hoarse voice said, “That’s one hell of an old girl!” The amused tone issued from
D’s left hand, which was wrapped around the reins. “Of course, if she wasn’t such
a tough old bird, there’s no way her grandson would’ve been able to do what he did,
either.” Chuckling, it added, “Floated him down the river, did you?”

The voice was then choked out in an anguished cry.

Although D had clenched his left hand tightly, not the least bit of that strength
was conveyed to the reins.

—

Heading straight for the edge of the village, D arrived at a pile of mysterious ruins
after twisting and turning down several narrow paths.

Rising from the center of a clearing covered by a wild green carpet of grass, the
walls of stone and metal looked like they’d been melted by extreme heat in places,
or had crumbled in others. Although the structures no longer retained their original
shapes, a concerted gaze would reveal the remains of stonework foundations, paved
corridors, and the partitions that had delineated each individual room. Amid grass
and white flowers that swayed in the breeze, the remains were more than six hundred
feet in diameter, spreading in a way that perfectly illustrated the vain nature of
mortal existence and the callousness of the winds of time.

Passing through what little remained of the bronze gates and stone pillars, D entered
the ruins. The wind snarled above him. Perhaps due to the legacy of some ancient architectural
technique, the wind blew through the gate and took on a strangely morose whistle before
it blustered against the traveler in black.

Tethering his cyborg horse to a wooden pole that looked to have been part of a fence
and then taking the saddle and bags from it, D gazed off to the west.

Green hills rolled on and on like something out of a painting. At the summit of the
one farthest back there towered a solemn castle. This region could almost be considered
mountainous, and while the Nobility’s manors in such places had mostly doubled as
fortresses, this was an exception. It had been constructed with a grace and refinement
befitting the character of those who lived by night. Surely it had to be the castle
of the “princess” the murderous knights had mentioned.

However, D returned his eyes to the ruins without any particular emotion, then began
to walk around the barely extant roof and ramparts with a measured gait that made
it seem like he was performing some sort of inspection. When he’d gone halfway around
the perimeter, the ostentatious roar of engines could be heard growing closer from
the same path that had brought him there.

Elena and her friends had stopped their motorcycles in front of the ruins. The air
carried the heavy scent of gasoline. Just as the bikers were about to enter the area,
they froze in place as if they’d just taken a jolt of electricity, and then backed
away as D appeared.

Even the sirens who lured captains to their doom with their lovely countenances and
sweet songs would’ve undoubtedly fallen victim to his beauty in exactly the same way
with just one glance. But far surpassing his good looks was the ghastly aura that
knifed into the flesh of all who beheld him—something that gave Elena the feeling
they were dealing with a fiend even more powerful than the four knights.

“I’ve come out here because I’ve got something talk over with you,” the girl finally
managed to say. The words caught in her throat, and her voice was terribly hoarse.

“What kind of talk would that be?”

As the young man spoke, his unearthly aura seemed to wane, and Elena let out an easy
breath. A slight spell of dizziness came over her, but she was able to stand her ground.
Her friends were watching. She couldn’t make a fool of herself.

Coughing once, she said, “You impressed the hell out of us. So we were thinking we’d
let you hook up with our outfit.”

Seeing D turn his back on them, the members of the group looked at each other. There
was neither turmoil nor anger on their faces. All of them had seen with their own
eyes the true power of the traveler in black.

A young man straddling a bike a bit larger than the rest rose from the seat. In keeping
with the size of his vehicle, he was about six and a half feet tall. “I told you he
wouldn’t go for it, Elena,” he said. “Seriously, why would he ever join us? Any way
you look at it, he’s a lot tougher than we are. All we can do is try to get on his
good
side.”

“I’m not about to bow and scrape to some drifter I don’t know from a hole in the ground!”
the girl exclaimed, vermilion rising in her cheeks. Pressing her lips into a hard,
straight line, she continued, “Everyone, head on over to Grau’s bar. I’m gonna stay
here and hash this out.”

“Hey now,” the giant shot back.

“Just who’s the leader here, Stahl?”

“You are. And I don’t think anyone here questions that. It’s just, this time—”

“This time I’m in over my head, so you thought you’d shoot your mouth off? So, I suppose
you’ve just been watching out for me all this time, have you?”

The girl’s eyes blazed with a fierce light that silenced the giant—Stahl.

“Okay,” Stahl said after closing his eyes and persuading himself. Gripping the handlebars
once more, he shouted, “You heard what she said, people. We’re going to Grau’s!”

Once she was sure the roar of their exhaust and all other signs of them had vanished,
Elena glared at the ruins.