King 4

Arsuf, Palestine 1191

Richard sat back in his chair, a rickety wooden affair, and sighed as his page removed his greaves. Fighting in the desert was hot, thankless work, and his tired old bones ached after a long day of battle. But he and his men had at last forced Salah al Din better known to the western world as Saladin and his Islamic armies back out of Arsuf, a smaller city on the water. Somehow Richard hoped that freeing another port like Acre would entice the nations of Europe to send more men, more supplies. But as the page freed his legs from their stifling coffins, he closed his eyes and sighed again, realizing that no reinforcements would come. That idiot Barbarossa died on the way here, and Philip and the French all hate me too. No matter that Philip of France wasnt a tenth the warrior that the English king was; jealousy rarely found its source in logic. England has no money to send men. France is unwilling, and Prussia unable. They have their own problems to deal with. Were it. We have to take back the Holy Land ourselves. Richard reached for a tankard of ale, sipping from it only because the supplies were low, and the heathens apparently knew nothing about how to make a good beer. He set the pewter mug down and stroked his beard, combing a small chunk of dirt out of the salt-and-pepper facial hair. You think well ever win, boy? he asked the page, who was in the process of removing his boots. If the Lord wills it, then how can we lose? the young man replied. Richard nodded. The answer of a simpleton, he groused silently, and was about to add to that verbally when trumpets sounded, the din of competing horns shattering the evening dusk and informing him that an important visitor headed his way. He shooed the page away and stood up in his bare feet, tugging on his heavy leather belt himself, sliding it off and slapping it over the back of the chair. My lord, his herald, a tall, thin man named Stephen, announced as he entered, you have a visitor. His majesty Philip of France wishes to see you. Stephen cleared his throat. He has brought the girl with him as well. Richard waved him off. Let him in. Let the girl in as well. No reason to piss off the only other man who has even the barest clue how to wage war in this land. Stephen frowned and withdrew, and a moment later Philip entered, the sovereign of France, along with a young woman of sixteen years, Josephina. Richard had been annoyed at first when he had landed at Orleans and Philip had greeted him there with the young woman. But the younger king explained that Josephina had special powers, and that she would come in useful in the Holy Land. Richard had snorted the sentimental French. You watch someday, theyll let a girl lead them into battle but the young woman had indeed proven wise. The English king didnt care for her much, but Philip did, and he had to placate Philip. Philip commanded too many men to do otherwise. So, my good king, Richard spoke. To what do I owe the great honor? The king of France dipped his head in recognition that Richard was the nominal head of the crusade. My good Richard, you are acquainted with Josephina.

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I am acquainted with your faith in her, Richard sniped back. A faith I do not share. He stroked his beard again, his brown eyes narrowing. Wait a moment, you come here to let her speak, not to tell me something yourself. He scowled. You are perceptive, as always, Philip smiled. Richard envied him that smile Philip was one of the most handsome men in Europe, with bright blue eyes and dark hair and a strong nose, firm jaw, and a honeyed voice. Richard by contrast was a hulking brute, with wide shoulders and greying hair and a voice like sandpaper, as rough as his appearance. He lacked the grace of the French king, the manners, the sophistication. He had only his great prowess in combat to make up for his social shortcomings. And Josephina Josephina could have been Philips daughter. Her skin was paler than the kings, but other than that, she shared his blue eyes and dark hair, though she wore hers long, down, like a trailing curtain of black mist. Slender, like her liege, and tall, though neither of them as tall as Richard. The young woman bowed her head and dipped her shoulders slightly. My liege, she spoke in heavily accented English, I would not dare disturb you, but it is ver important. Richard sucked down some ale. Very well, what is it, girl? We are in great danger, she told him. Something horrible is out there, something fierce. I can feel it. And it is coming this way. She looked up at Richard. It is coming for you. How do you know that? the older King glared at her. How can you possibly know something like that? She has visions, Philip began to explain, but Josephina interrupted her king. My liege, I have dreams. I believe God gives them to me, to warn me, and warn others. She gestured to Philip. That is why my good King Philip holds me in such regard. He can tell you my dreams always come to pass. Its true, Richard, the French king agreed. I know how it sounds, but it is true. She can see things, and they do come to pass. The older king folded his arms. So what exactly did you see? he grumbled. Josephina glanced at Philip, who urged her with a wave of his hand to continue. My lord Richard, I saw a great dark adversary, tall, with incredible strength, heading directly for you. And he At that moment, Stephen returned to the tent. My lords and kings, I beg forgiveness for the interruption, but you have a most unusual guest asking for you. Who is it? Richard inquired. My liege, it is Salah Al Din himself. Richard and Philip exchanged looks. Philip nodded slightly. Escort the heathen king to my tent, Richard instructed his herald, who bowed deeply and left at once. Perhaps this is the adversary you saw, eh? Richard needled the girl. My lord, with all due respect, I do not think so. The creature I saw was not human. Richard opened his mouth to reply when the tent flap parted to reveal Salah Al Din, the Sultan of Arabia. He stood shorter than either Philip or Richard, and his crimson tunic lent his darker skin tone an almost ruddy complexion. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and like both Philip and Richard, he had not shaven recently. Dark stubble outlined a strong jaw; white teeth flashed as the man spoke, haltingly, in French. I greet you both, Salah Al Din said. And I thank my worthy opponents for agreeing to see me on such brief notice. But we have little time to waste. He clapped his hands twice,

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startling those in the tent, and a huge figure entered from outside, his skin dark almost to the point of being black, his long hair plaited into braids, his armor similar to Salah Al Dins, but not as intricately decorated. He stood at least a foot taller than Richard, and the top of his head scraped the ceiling of the tent. Josephina hissed. Vampyr! she growled, withdrawing a stake from beneath her cape. The tall figure stood still, behind Salah Al Din, knowing the girl would never make a move against the sultan. You see, my liege, the King stated, in Arabic. I told you they would have a girl with them. She is the one of which I spoke. Salah Al Din held up his hands. Please, my fellow kings, please. This is not the time or the place. He glanced back at the King. I admit there are some oddities about Prince Gilig Al Mesh, but he bears dire news that I wish you all to hear. He is evil! Josephina spat. He serves the darkness, the devil. Hes a demon. Salah Al Din nodded. Hes a demon with information. Philip gave the young woman a concerned look. How do we know we can trust this Al Mesh? he wondered. The King leaned forward, flashing fangs. You have no choice. If you do not listen to me, we will all perish. You, me, the girl, Lord Salah, everyone. So I suggest you listen. Richard fixed the King with a harsh stare. Talk. The King folded his massive arms. Four centuries ago, a demon lord named Agrimatto was summoned to this land. He was cunning and powerful, and he laid waste all of Armenia and would have taken over the world if not for one such as this girl. A slayer. The King shot her a distasteful look. Go on, Philip urged the dark giant, moving closer to Josephina. Agrimatto was defeated, as I said. But not all of his followers perished in the great battle that ended his life. I escaped. And others did too. You were a supporter of Agrimatto? Salah Al Din inquired. It was a long time ago, my king, the King responded. Salah Al Din shook his head. I would have slept better not knowing that. What of the other followers? Josephina challenged the vampire. Most of them were weak, cowards, the King admitted. I doubt more than a few of them are left alive. But one of them was a wizard of some skill, a man with a thirst for knowledge. He was one who helped summon Agrimatto in the first place, and he was the one who was most bitterly disappointed when the slayer killed his lord. This was four hundred years ago, Richard pointed out. What does this have to do with us? My people live a very long time, the King confessed. And we do not forget, or forgive, anything. And this wizard, this mage, he has remembered what the slayer did to his liege. He gazed at Josephina. It has been a long time since there has been a slayer in this part of the world. I had hoped that maybe we were free of the curse of you. You will never be free of the slayer! she snapped at him. Kill me and another will take my place. And another, and another, until finally one of us arises who will kill all of you, and you will be no more. The King smiled. A charming notion. But unlikely. He turned to Philip. You care for this girl? Very much so, the French king admitted. Shes like a daughter to me.

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Then you must listen to me, the King continued. This wizard, he is close. He knows that you travel with a slayer. And he wants her dead, to avenge his lord. Why would you tell us this? Richard queried. As far as I can make sense of this, you are a sworn enemy of this girl. You are right, Coeur de Lion, that I wish her only ill. She is a great threat to me. But not as great as the threat the wizard has brought into this world. He has summoned a creature so foul, so deadly, that not even I could stop it. And I dont think my lord Salah Al Din could stop it either, not on his own, with just his men. But with the combined might of your armies, maybe all three of you could. And added to that a slayer He shrugged massive shoulders. It might be possible. What sort of creature is this? Philip wondered. A dragon? Worse, Salah Al Din put in. He looked at Richard. Good King Richard, I share your skepticism. Or I did. Until I saw the beast. Saw what he did to one of my finest groups of cavalry. Salah shivered. They bore down on him more fiercely than they ever did on any infidel. And he simply stood there and raised his hand, and to a man they pitched forward off their horses, dead. And he pointed at each one, and as he pointed, that man went up in flame, burned to ashes. Richard narrowed his eyes. Satan himself? This creature is called the Judge, the King explained. And he is headed this way, alone. He looked at the other lieges. As I said, if we hurry, and combine your forces, it is just possible that we may be able to kill him before he gets to the girl. You arent doing this for her, Philip challenged Al Mesh. Youre right, good Philip. I am doing it for me. Why? Richard grunted. Because I cant stop that thing out there. And it must be stopped before it devours everything on the earth. Josephina moved close to the King. Make no mistake, she stated. When my work with the Judge is finished, Ill be coming for you. The King smiled wide, sharp teeth showing against dark lips. If there are any of you left, youre welcome to try.

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