James_D_Fawkes
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By the Light of the Stars
🕑 Added 2015-06-04 09:20:23 +0000 UTC"Time?"
Jeremiah's watch was back out momentarily, ticking impossibly loudly in the quiet.
"Nine minutes from the hour."
"The Horseman will be here shortly," Julius told them. He looked to his companions. "Alphonse."
"Ja."
Alphonse the German swung the rifle off of his shoulder and set the butt on the ground, then reached into a pouch slung from his belt and pulled out a little round ball. In the light of the lanterns, Jeanne could faintly make out what looked to be holy markings and sigils etched into its surface — the sign of the cross, angelic names, and even miniature Hebrew letterings that must have been biblical verses.
"Our first task must be to separate the Horseman from his horse," Julius explained as Alphonse loaded the metal ball into his rifle. "Brother Alphonse should be able to knock him off with one shot — he is an incredible marksman. Once he has been unseated, I will entrust the Horseman to you, Signorina Jeanne, while Brother Alphonse and Brother Jacques detain the horse. In the meantime, I will prepare the seal."
Julius pulled from his pocket a trinket, a square box made of bronze with slats and tiles — it was a puzzle box from Ancient Greece, a mechanical device with an inner structure like clockwork that could be unlocked only by moving the pieces into the correct position; Jeanne had heard of them, but never seen one for herself. They were rare artifacts said to have come from the Greek god, Hephaestus, passed down into the hands of men after the terrible battle that had killed the Olympians.
"Are you sure that will hold it?"
Julius' lips quirked up in something like pride. "Signorina, I have the utmost faith in the Templars' artificers. If there is any device in this world capable of holding a ghoul such as this, then it was surely made in Rome."
Alphonse, apparently done loading his rifle, lifted it up and leaned it against his shoulder. "Ich bin bereit," he declared.
Julius turned to look at Jacques, who had drawn his sword — a French estoc also adorned with holy symbols — and was holding it loosely in one hand. "Moi aussi."
Just within sight, the mist on the road ahead was beginning to thicken and condense, swirling as though some great, invisible hand was reaching down and molding it into a shape. When Julius saw this, the lines of his face became deeper and darker, and the skin around his mouth and eyes drew taut.
"Then," he said solemnly, "let us pray."
As the three Templars bowed their heads and closed their eyes, Jeanne saw Ichabod grimace out of the corner of her eye — he was not, it seemed, the overly religious sort. She found herself somewhat disappointed in him, but if there was anything she had learned over the years, it was that a man did not have to be a devout Christian to be a good person.
"The Lord is my shepherd," Julius, Jacques, and Alphonse intoned as one. "I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures. He leadeth me beside the still waters. He restoreth my soul. He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me. Thy rod and staff, they comfort me. Thou preparest a table for me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil. My cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever."
Psalm 23 — Jeanne's hand rose of its own accord to touch the place where her own crucifix hung, hidden beneath her clothing. "Amen," she whispered.
The phantom cry of a horse echoed into the quiet, and the swirling mist just in sight grew denser and denser until it was almost solid. Two yellow orbs, small but glowing brightly, appeared suddenly amongst it, brilliant and menacing — eyes, Jeanne realized, she was looking at a pair of eyes. The chilly air and wisps of murderous intent pressed down upon her and the others.
"The Horseman approaches!" Julius cried. "Signor Crane, it would be best if you were not here when the fight starts!"
"No need to tell me a second time!" Ichabod replied. Jeanne turned her head just long enough to watch him start off back down the road to the town, moving at something between a brisk walk and a slow run. His lantern bobbed up and down as he went.
"Alphonse!"
"Jawohl!" Julius didn't need to say anything more, because Alphonse was already in motion and stepping swiftly to the front of the group. He brought his rifle up, wedged the butt of the stock against his shoulder, and closed a single eye to look down the sights, pulling the lock back with one thumb. He was poised so perfectly that Jeanne didn't even see the barrel so much as twitch.
The horse let out a great call again, louder and fiercer than before, and the condensing mist began to form itself into a terrible black beast at least twice the size of an ordinary steed. From what would have been its snout came a gout of red fire, and then, then, Jeanne saw the silhouette of a rider upon its back, hazy and not yet fully formed.
"Signorina! After the Horseman is unseated, I will need at least five minutes to prepare the seal!"
"Understood!" Jeanne said. She drew her sword, Lunestoile, with a ring of steel, and in anticipation of the fight to come, her heart began to speed up in her chest. "Jeremiah!"
"Yes, my Lady?"
"Leave the rider to me," she ordered. "Stay back and protect Sir Julius. Only get involved if one group looks like they need help."
"As you command."
The horse reared back, crying out again loudly, and snorted out another burst of flame.
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