The Ring of June, page 1
THE RING OF JUNE
BOOK 1 OF PARTHACUS TRILOGY
There was blood everywhere.
Arthur Du Fey gritted his teeth and split the charging demon into two with his broad sword. Seeing his fury the other demons hastily retreated a few steps – they apparently were terrified! Arthur looked around quickly – if all the demons banded together and attacked, he would not be able to survive the onslaught. They will tear him apart within seconds. Around him all his fellow warriors lay dead. They had died fighting valiantly; he was the last man standing.
He then realized that the demons could have killed him long ago if they had really wanted to. They were circling him slowly, pushing at each other. It was as if they were trying to decide who will face his sword now. To them it was an ugly game of death. But to Arthur it felt as if he was a mouse trapped amongst feral cats.
Arthur wiped his sweaty palm on his tunic while holding the heavy broad sword with his other good hand. His whole body was drenched with blood and sweat, his muscles were crying with pain and it felt like his lungs were on fire. Blood dripped freely from a deep gash over his left shoulder. On top of all that, he could also hear the cry of the little infant inside his mind. He could sense the terrible danger the infant was in at that very moment. He must help the baby at any cost before it gets too late.
The palace shook violently again. Arthur nearly fell to the ground but balanced himself on his sword at the last moment. More demons have probably crashed through the huge dimension portal that had opened up in roof of the throne room. There seemed no end to their numbers.
Arthur gripped the broad sword with both hands and took a step forward. This time the demons did not retreat. The time for playing games was over. The demons in the front row shook their bodies in unison and bared their fangs at him. In response Arthur raised his sword in a knight’s salute. He felt that the infant’s demise was at hand. It was now or never. Gritting his teeth, he took a long shuddering breath and leaped into the throng of demons, hacking at them, his blows splattering filthy gore everywhere. Claws ripped at his armor, tearing open new wounds wherever his skin was exposed. He could feel their fetid breath all over his face.
Again the palace shook on its foundations, but this time it seemed to freeze the demons in their tracks. They stopped their assault on Arthur and stood motionless, confusion etched on their monstrous faces. A fell wind blew through every corner of the palace. It struck Arthur squarely on the chest and threw him aside. The demons roared out in defiance. The wind seemed to engulf them from all directions and within seconds they were all gone! The room became as silent as a tomb.
Arthur stood up laboriously, gasping in pain. Already he could sense a sudden change inside his consciousness; a terrible emptiness was beginning to engulf his mind. He tried to steady himself and summon his magic, but failed. Taking a deep shuddering breath, he willed his legs to run. He ran like a ghost towards the palace’s interior, trampling without heed the dead bodies of demons and humans alike. He could no longer hear the cry of the infant in his mind. A terrible fear gripped his heart like a vice.
A pile of bodies lay outside the king’s bedchamber. They all wore the red livery of the King’s Watch and few were still alive. Arthur recognized one of them. His name was Stephan and he was one of the loyal guards of the king.
Arthur knelt down and grasped the wounded man’s shoulder.
“Where is his Highness?”
Stephan coughed blood and pointed at the closed door of the king’s bedchamber. “He is in there. But he has forbidden anyone to enter...”
Arthur did not wait for Stephan to finish his statement. He charged at the heavy oak door, striking at it with his shoulders, splintering the lock instantly.
King Abraham was standing in front of the window with his back to the door. He turned around, his face wet with tears. Arthur looked about helplessly. The entire room was in ruins. One part of the room had been completely reduced to ashes. He turned his attention back to the king. Abraham’s crown was lying in a corner. His dress was tattered and burnt but a strange fire still danced in the red stone of the ring that he wore on the middle finger of his right hand.
Arthur dropped his sword and asked in a broken voice, “Highness, I cannot sense him anymore. Where is he?”
King Abraham laid his hand on Arthur’s shoulder and said shakily, “I was forced to send him away. I had no other choice. I…”
Arthur shouted hoarsely,” Where? Where have you sent him?”
Abraham turned away and whispered, “To a place from which no one can come back.”
Arthur felt the entire world shift beneath his feet. He collapsed to his knees beside the king.
Abraham closed his eyes and repeated himself,” I had no other choice”.
And so they faced each other – the broken king and his knight – Arthur Du Fey.
(1)
Manhattan, NY: 1991, 9:00 PM
It had been raining cats and dogs for the last three days. Mr. and Mrs. Brown were sitting comfortably inside their house on Redford Street, while it poured incessantly outside. It was a quiet neighborhood, but very safe. John Brown commented while watching the news, “Ah Jess, look at the condition of the West Side. That area is completely flooded. Don’t know when it will start flooding here. I guess we are still fine because of the top notch drainage systems. The Mayor will get my vote again next time.”
Jessica Brown stopped sewing and replied thoughtfully, “God knows when this will end. Mr. Seymore called from the West Side this morning. He said that their house had gone under water. They have taken refuge in the community hall. He feels lucky to have been able to call. Most of the lines in that area are down.”
John works as a foreman for Skeltic Constructions. Truth be told, it was not a very engaging job. He returned home every day from work completely drained out. Usually he took Jessica out to the movies or the park in the evenings. Nowadays even that was no longer possible because of the rain. It was slowly beginning to get on his nerves.
Outside, the rain seemed to have intensified. Lightning played hide and seek across the sky. The interior of the house was getting progressively colder as clammy wet wind kept blowing in through the open windows. John eventually lost his temper and banged his fist on the table beside his chair, “Damn it! Close the windows Jess!”
Jessica protested, “It’s such a nice breeze ...”
John retorted derisively, “Please do as I tell you. Rain is coming inside the house and she wants a nice breeze! Go and close the windows.”
Grumbling, he turned his attention back to the news.
Jessica looked coldly at John and stood up. They had married five years ago but did not have any children. According to the doctors, they were incapable of it. The harsh fact did not impact their relationship in the earlier years but of late, things have been tense between them.
Jessica reached out to close the windows. At that very moment a lightning bolt stuck right in front of their house. The brilliant flash of light blinded her momentarily. Screaming, she jumped back, knocking over a side-table, spilling the contents of a flower vase all over the floor. In the next instant, the entire neighborhood was engulfed in pitch black darkness. The power was out. The lightning had probably struck one of the pylons out in the street.
John rushed to Jessica’s side, carefully avoiding the furniture in the darkness.
“Jess, are you ok?” he grasped her and asked.
Jessica was shaking like a terrified rabbit. She had never been so startled in her life. Burying her face in John’s chest, she started weeping like a child. John stroked her hair, trying to calm her down. Jessica drew a deep shuddering breath but then something else caught her attention. A strange noise was coming from outside. Wiping her tears, she pulled John towards the window.
“Can you hear that?”
“It’s probably a cat howling somewhere,” John tried to reassure her.
“No,” she let go of John. “It’s not a cat. It sounds more like a little baby crying.”
“Then it is coming from one of the houses nearby.”
“No John, I can hear it very clearly. There is a baby crying outside. I am going to check it out.”
“Hey, hang on. I am coming too.” John made his way through the furniture and took out an umbrella and a flashlight from a drawer.
Carefully, they huddled under the umbrella and stepped outside. The wind was constantly buffeting them, threatening to tear the umbrella out of their grasp. It was hard to see because of the rain.
“John, there! Aim your flashlight there!” Jessica shouted excitedly and ran out from under the umbrella towards the little garden that she had nurtured in front of their house.
“Jess! You will get wet!” John protested loudly.
“John! Look! It’s a baby.” Jessica said shakily. “In our garden!”
“What are you saying?” John exclaimed incredulously. He aimed the light at Jess and found her kneeling on the flower bed. What he saw at her feet nearly made his heart stop. A baby was lying in the mud, all cold and wet, wrapped in a dirty sheet. It was probably about four months old or so.
Jessica picked up the baby and held it close to her bosom lovingly. “It’s a boy, John.”
“Where did he come from?” John asked in an awed voice, holding the umbrella above Jessica and the baby.
“Someone had dumped him in our garden. Oh John, he is so beautiful!” Jessica was crying now.
“Well, we will keep him for the night. Tomorrow, we have to inform the proper authorities. Let them handle the situation,” John replied worriedly.
Jessica stared expectantly at John’s face. After deliberating for a few seconds, she said, “If his parents cannot be traced, can we keep him?”
“Are you suggesting adoption?” John sounded dubious. “It would involve a lot of hassle.”
“I don’t care,” Jessica caressed the baby’s face. “God has given him to me. He belongs to me now, and I won’t accept anything less.”
John was about to utter a counter argument but something on the ground behind Jessica made him stop.
“Oh damn…”
“What is it?” Jessica made a move to turn around but John stopped her.
“It is nothing. Take the baby and go inside. I will be right back.” He literally pushed her inside the house.
Kneeling down on the ground, he focused the light on the object. Seeing it clearly for the first time nearly made him gag.
It was a severed adult hand cut off cleanly at the wrist, the fingers clenched tightly. Blood was still flowing out of the wound.
“Damn, what to do now?” John thought out aloud. Explaining the baby to the police was one thing, but this? There was no way that he could explain the appearance of a freshly dismembered hand out in his garden. John smelled trouble.
Jessica peeked out through a window, “What are you still doing out there?”
“Nothing. Nothing,” John muttered distractedly. “Have you fed the baby anything?”
“I am way ahead of you,” she smiled. “I am warming up some milk. But why aren’t you coming in?”
“I will be right with you. Feed the baby first.”
Seeing Jessica move away from the window, John cautiously picked up the hand. He looked around, his face pale with fear. Hopefully none of the neighbors had noticed them. Good thing that the power was out.
He opened the cellar door behind their house and went down straight to the furnace. He waited for some time for the power to come back. It was time to get rid of the problem.
He did not have to wait long. The power was back soon and he turned on the furnace without wasting any more time. Then he chucked the hand inside the furnace and sighed loudly. The intense heat will reduce the hand to ashes. Nobody will be able to find it, ever.
John climbed out of the cellar, locked the door and went back inside the house.
Jessica shushed him as he walked into the living room. The baby was sleeping cradled in her arms. John tiptoed towards her.
“Isn’t he beautiful? Just like an angel.” Jessica whispered.
John ran his fingers through the baby’s downy golden hair. Indeed, the child was very beautiful. John’s heart was suddenly flooded with warmth he had never felt before.
Jessica looked at his eyes and choked back her tears, “Can we adopt him, John? He will be our son. What do you think? Don’t you want us to have a baby boy?”
John took a moment to come to a decision. Laughing out aloud, he pulled Jessica toward him and declared, “Aw, what the heck. We will adopt him as our own.”
“Now let’s go and have dinner. From tomorrow, we will lead a new life, yes?” He smiled again and kissed Jessica gently on the forehead.
She kissed the child’s cheek tenderly and said dreamily, “I might sound very cruel but, to be honest, I am desperately hoping that his true parents never be found. Will you think less of me if I feel this way?”
John shook his head. “Of course not.” Then he exclaimed, “Where is the sheet that was covering him?”
“I had kept it with the dirty laundry. Why?”
John returned with the sheet and held it up in the light. “It is made of silk, and looks expensive! Did you notice the design on it? It must easily be worth a few hundred bucks. Hide it dear. Don’t show it to the police tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“No... I mean, they might suspect something.” John was still thinking of the severed hand.
“Suspect us? Of what?” Jessica asked curiously.
“Hide it, please.” John was feeling high-strung. “I don’t want any trouble to come upon us. Give him to me.” John put the sheet aside and carefully took the sleeping baby from her. “Now go and prepare dinner.”
Jessica walked to the kitchen beaming happily. John started to rock the baby gently, humming a lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was a child. The baby smiled in his sleep and snuggled closer to John’s chest. He had started to fill up the emptiness that John had felt for such a long time.
“You are my son,” John whispered. “And you will be called… Peter Brown.”
(2)
Manhattan, NY: 2007, 11: 00 PM
A blinding flash of lightning illuminated the garden and everything was seen in sharp relief for an instant. The deluge was threatening to drown the plants. Some had already been uprooted by the strong wind.
Spreading its leathery wings, the demon known as the Seeker stood up and shook its body. Its superheated skin was causing the raindrops to turn into steam wherever they touched it. Fumes were billowing out of its nostrils and purring like a cat, the demon sniffed the air eagerly.
The familiar scent caught its nostrils again but this time the scent seemed to be staler, almost as if it wasn’t there at all. The Seeker folded the wings back into its jet black body and walked towards the house. Before climbing up the stairs, it ducked its head and looked around. Its presence had gone unannounced so far. The Seeker growled in a satisfied manner. Everything was going according to plan. Its timing had been immaculate.
The demon laid its hands on the heavy front door and summoned dark magic from deep within. The wood under its palms started to smoke and smolder, and soon afterwards the door broke down with a loud crash, reduced to ashes.
The noise made old McGee to wake up with a start. He sat up on the bed bewildered, trying to figure out from where the sound had originated.
“What was that?” Mrs. McGee grabbed the sleeve of his night dress fearfully.
“Stay here. Dial 911. I am going to get the gun.”
“Don’t leave me here alone in the dark,” shrieked Mrs. McGee.
“Curse you woman, don’t bug me now!” The old man tried to turn on the bedside lamp.
“Oh great, we don’t have electricity. Follow me downstairs. Bring the flashlight with you. It might be a thief.”
“We have a thief in the house?” Mrs. McGee shrieked again.
“Be quiet, foolish woman! Your infernal screams will alert the thief. Perhaps he has already made off with our stuff,” grumbled Mr. McGee. He took out a heavy shotgun from the closet. It was loaded.
Carefully they climbed down the stairs together. What they saw made them speechless. The front door was lying in pieces; the air was heavy with the smell of burnt wood. Rain was pouring in through the doorway.
Old McGee knelt down and picked up a piece of the door.
“Did lightning strike the door, dear? Is that why it had burnt down?” Mrs. McGee was visibly shaken.
“Meg, look! Here, aim the light at me.” McGee waved his wife to come closer.
Megan McGee tiptoed towards her husband. There were muddy footprints all over the floor. She shined her light around; a set of footprints had gone into the kitchen. They were more like the prints of an animal! There were claw marks on wooden floor too! She whispered to her husband, “What is it?”
McGee gripped his shotgun firmly. “Stay behind me Meg. It might be a wildcat.” There was a hint of fear in his voice.
Something hit the floor loudly inside the dark kitchen. The animal was probably moving around in there, knocking down utensils from the racks. Mr. McGee steeled his nerves and walked into the kitchen. Megan hastily shone her flashlight around but, to their utter amazement the kitchen seemed to be absolutely empty. She picked up a frying pan from the floor.
“Where did the beast go? Be careful Meg, it might be hiding in a corner,” McGee whispered. “Hand me your flashlight….. Meg?”
Megan mumbled incoherently, whimpering like a frightened creature. McGee turned around and found his wife frozen in her tracks, staring fixedly at the roof. The old man shook her, “What is wrong Meg? What?”
A sticky fluid dropped on the shiny bald patch on old McGee’s head. Automatically he wiped the stuff off; a yellowish putrid substance shone between his fingers. Following his wife’s terrified gaze, he slowly looked up.
