Chapter sixty
He was not part of the raging war. Making sure Martin was out of it was his first priority. He was certain his team could handle this; and consequently, he began to rein the straps of his horse on which the Prince was seated away of the entire madness.
But they were being followed.
"Thank you, Abraham," Martin smiled. "For a minute there, I thought you all would never figure that I was gone."
With a smile, the djinn rolled his eyes. "Thank your stars for the note Ozii remembered to send. Who knows? I'd have thought you were sleeping around again."
"Oh, I declare my loyalty to Ashilar from now on," Martin was grinning like a child. Minutes ago, he'd concluded he would die. "Did you see how she ripped the wolf's jaws apart?"
It was at this point Abraham understood how far he could go for his brothers; how much he cared about them, no matter how evil he forced himself to be.
There was this good side, and he was coming to like it more often than not. He'd snickered in response and stopped their motion at the edge of the war circle, standing protectively before his brother while he studied the scene.
The foes were significantly depreciating in number. And if there was any doubt his team was inefficient against Ozii's, all of them had gone a long way to nullify it. He was proud, that, he could say.
"So, you all missed me, didn't you?" The conversation resumed.
Just as Abraham was about to lie about the answer, he received an arrow deep into his chest, making him release a deep grown. For some reason, it was more than pain. There was heat, fire! When he glanced up,a second arrow was being pulled against a bow, fire burning its pointed tip.
"Abraham! Look out!" Martin's change of mood came drastically and consequently, he even jumped down his horse by reflex. But he hadn't achieved much before the weapon was released, digging itself into the other side of the King's chest.
Abraham released another groan and jerked backwards at the second attack. He figured the archer to be another of the henchmen, who strived to weaken him while some other surrounded Martin from all sides distantly.
However, the djinn of fire experienced an abrupt change of mood, opening the part in him he never enjoyed letting out.
He made a tight grip about one arrow and simply…yanked it from within him like there was no pain at all.
All the while, he glared at the archer who was now lowering the bow with his jaw hanging open. With the same fluency, Abraham yanked out the second and muttered a curse as it came.
"The saying of fighting fire with fire isn't exactly waterproof, is it," Abraham growled to himself just before he snatched the opponent closest to him and dug his claws into him. When he pulled out his bloody fist from within the body, he didn't do so without ripping out an organ.
Even to Martin, the sight was cringe. Sometimes, it was difficult to understand how his younger brother could so monstrous when he was in the best of moods only seconds ago.
Apart from the claws, there was that fiery glow in his eyes again, complemented by fangs in his mouth.
Jeremey Tonnel could only spare a few seconds to glance over at his younger brothers, hoping they were alright. Razia had done same at the moment, quite certain the King in that mood could handle twelve men efficiently. And so, although reluctantly, she returned her attention to the wolves who suddenly seemed to be multiplying for some reason.
Meanwhile, Abraham watched Martin with every sense he could use. Why were they so bent on killing him anyway? Deep down, he had the burning urge to set sometimes on fire…to bite someone. Precisely rip them all apart till they are nothing but meat.
But then…
He pulled Martin Tonnel to his side, growling threats at each approaching man like a predator would.
However, Martin was overly tired of it all. He looked through the entire blood-stricken area and decided it was time to bring an end to this. If they'd do all this to save his life…
"You know, I haven't ever said this," he finally whispered to Abraham. "But I've always wanted to fight side by side with you."
The King suddenly stopped growling and sent his blue eyes towards his brother. He received a warm smile in return; a smile he knew was supposed to hide the fear the man truly felt.
At this point, Abraham Tonnel had warning bells ringing in his mind about listening to those words.
However, Martin went on. "May…maybe I'm not as strong as you are. But I'm sure we'll make a great duo, the Tonnel's always do."
As those words were said, Abraham instantly yanked out a bow and a case of arrows sticking out of the filly's girdle.
The men around pleasantly took the hint and retrieved arms as well, each one well aware that the djinn was none of their business.
Strangely, no captive of theirs had ever been much of a thorn Martin had been. And by now, killing him was taken more personally than it should have been.
"Remember…" said one to the others. "Ignore the djinn. I doubt we can fight him, honestly; just pass a spear through the Prince and we are good to go."
Abraham's senses had grasped those lines quite fine. As he passed the weapons to Martin, he swore they'd only lay a finger on his brother over his dead body. "Whatever you do, big brother, do not approach the one with the spear."
Martin nodded obediently and went on to fix an arrow into the bow, pulling significantly, and just waiting.
Until suddenly, one henchman aimed to make an abrupt attack. At once, Martin released the arrow. Having sent it deep into the man's neck region, the dozen men had dropped by one. With pride and skill, he went on, shielded protectively all the while by Abraham.
From a far wider background behind the entire drama, Vizal watched. Well, he felt the war happen, heard the frequent sounds of blade against flesh as well as the splatter of blood upon trees.
Usually, nothing of this sort concerned his demonic soul. But now, the thought that this was all centered on saving one human bothered him. Why so?
He'd done his job, received his pay and could very well walk the hell out of there without getting his blind arse spotted by anyone. Except…he wanted to see how this would end, wanted to fathom how a war between two equal irks of nine demons would turn out.
Amongst the numerous other images his brain had envisioned from the vibrations he felt, there was something stealthy lurking behind it all.
Someone everyone was too busy in their combats to notice except he. Vizal's brows joined in a frown and he tilted his head to study where it originated from. It was West; certainly somewhere around where the King of Decresh and his mortal brother battled the henchmen. It was only after critical thoughts that he fixed the puzzle into one piece. Into one dreadful piece.