Dragon Clans Bk. 02 Pt. 05

Schroeder brushed off these thoughts as the men shook hands.

"So what do you have for me Hans, some fresh entertainment for the boys?"

Nicholas did not like the man's tone or the inference of his statement, but kept quiet. One of the lessons he had learned well, was that it was often best to only speak or question when absolutely necessary.

"No, no, nothing like that, at least not with this one. For Nicholas here I am hoping you will take him on as an apprentice. He needs an understanding of what it means to kill, to spill the blood of an enemy, to order men to take life and to sacrifice theirs if need be. I can think of no one more qualified to educate the lad on how real war is waged and won."

It was not faint praise coming from Hans and Carl new it. There were a handful of men in his position, who had lived their lives by the sword and gun, weaned on the smell of blood and ash. They would have been warlords a few centuries ago. But this was a more civilized age. Men such as Carl were now forced to lend their skills to those rich enough to pay for them, but wielding great political power instead of brute strength.

Hans was an enigma of the time who did both. He had the ear of powerful people in almost every royal court in Europe, but would also be hard to best by any two or three great warriors. His desire for Carl to train Nicholas was strange, but he kept his questions to himself. He would have better luck getting answers from the boy than his mentor.

"It would be an honor Hans. To train someone for you would be one of the great accomplishments of my life. What are my restrictions?"

"You have none, aside from in four years he lives and has been trained. Beyond that, I trust that you and your men will give Nicholas ... a unique education."

Carl raised an eyebrow but said nothing. His men, mostly made up of barbarous thugs could make the strongest of men wish for death. It was yet another interesting facet of Hans request.

"Come with me Nicholas, we shall spend a few moments together and then I will be off."

Hans' tone was gruff, that of father too long delayed by prattling children.

"Thank for your this, Carl, I now owe you a debt ... and I always repay them. Don't hesitate to call on me if I can be of any assistance to you in the future. Until we meet again."

Turning, Hans and Nicholas walked off toward their horses leaving a bewildered Carl in their wake.

"Remember your lessons Nicholas, the next four years will be the hardest you have ever known. You will learn the intimacy of death during this time. Find the detachment that comes through causing it times innumerable. Remember Nicholas, they are the sheep, and you are the wolf. It is the truth of your life, the sooner you embrace that fact, and the sooner you can try to take that which is your birthright. You must realize it will not be handed over easily. Everything in life must be taken. To be given something requires no work, no action, no intention, it is meaningless to receive, it is meaningless to give, the only things in life that are truly yours, are those that you take by your own hand."

Nicholas watched in silence as Hans gained his saddle and with a quick kick of his heels was away, swallowed by the darkness of the forest that surrounded him.

...

Nicholas coughed, his body aching as it always did after his master summoned him so abruptly.

Groping around he found the table and used it to pull himself up. Taking deep gasping breaths Nicholas tried to center himself. The toll of being ripped across such distances is great, both physically and emotionally. No matter that it had happened hundreds of times over the centuries, each was still its own unique lesson in pain and submission.

Nicholas sat heavily in the chair, pulling the phone closer he smashed the speaker button and dialed a number. It was answered immediately.

"Yes Sir?"

"Darion, bring me a bottle of red wine and start a shower, we need to get moving."

"Right away, Sir."

Nicholas, closing the line stood, stretching his arms up over his head. The ache from the meeting would last several days. No matter what he did it was always the case.

Stripping his sweat soaked shirt, he dropped it at his feet as he walked over to the balcony and opened the door. The cold night air and light rain felt good on his heated skin as he surveyed the city below.

His fingertips played gently across the top of the newly formed scar at his neck, it was numb, as such scars are always were. Standing there on the balcony he moved his hands over the various scars that he could reach. Each a reminder of some transgression, real or imagined. Each devoid of feeling, each one tearing away another piece of his living essence, each diminishing him.

London moved below him, it's energy and vitality the antithesis of what Nicholas' own view of what the world should be.

"I will enjoy taking my vengeance on this place. Enjoy watching it burn."

Nicholas' words were lost on the wind as he heard Darion come into the suite.

"I'm out here."

Darion, dressed in his perennial gray Seville row suit placed an open bottle of on the table before walking to stand at Nicholas' side.

'So many nights like this one lately.' Darion thought as he watched the city undulate in its nightly orgy of motion and sound.

The early years had been different. Nicholas had found Darion in the west end, being a bartender, looking impeccable, waiting to find Mr. Right. That had been Darion twenty years ago until the fateful night Nicholas had walked into his life.

Now all these years later he couldn't seem to remember what had so appealed to him about pledging himself to the enigmatic man in black jeans and turtle neck.

Yes, he was built like a Greek god, had an accent that anyone would kill for, but there was an emptiness behind his eyes that Darion found overtly intriguing. He was just sure that his own unique qualities would be just the thing to relight the fire behind those eyes, and once lit, living in their reflection would give Darion the sense of completion he hungered for.

What he had gotten was far more. Nicholas had offered him a job, personal valet. Darion jumped at the chance. Many a night those first years had been spent curled in his bed, the frightening understanding of the world in which he now lived, almost too much to bear. But he had survived. Years and years of thankless labor, so many gallons of blood cleaned up, the bodies of those used up by Nicholas stacked like cord wood in the corners of his mind.

There was never any hope of escape; it was no longer even a thought that entered Darion's mind. Once your footprint is ingrained in the bloody sand of hell, there is no stepping back through the door.

Nicholas' attention on him broke him from his mussing.

"Is the shower ready?"

"As if you needed to ask."

Darion answered without meeting Nicholas' gaze.

"I'm going to shower then sleep for two hours, wake me and have everything prepared for our departure."

Darion nodded as Nicholas turned, disappearing into the suite. He was pleased, noticing the bottle of wine gone meant that Nicholas actually would sleep for a few hours, giving him time to complete his tasks.

Nicholas was hard to live with and impossible to satisfy, but the die had been cast long ago, there was nothing left for Darion to do, but stay the path and see where it finally ended.

Pulling out his phone he kept an ear to the interior of the suite as he made his calls, arranging for their trip westward, their trip toward his master's newest nemesis.

...

London's' quiet early morning streets were banked in fog as the sleek black Mercedes pulled out of the underground garage of the Claridge.

"We'll be flying out of a small field in Coventry. It will take us about an hour to arrive. I've contacted Lo-Chan, he will meet us in Singapore and bring a contingent of personnel to meet our needs. When I told him that we would be going against Onji he didn't ask about payment."

Lo-Chan was notorious for charging for long distance phone calls; the fact that he himself was going to meet Nicholas and bring some of his elite with him meant there was a score to settle between himself and Onji.

"Why the enmity between Lo-Chan and Onji? The last briefing I had showed that their little rivalry had cooled over the last decade or so. Everything was pretty calm."

Nicholas made it a point to keep tabs on all the families, not just those aligned with him. He was a firm believer in keeping his friends close and his enemies closer.

"There was an ... incident ... with a young woman Lo-Chan was training. Turns out the great-grandmother was a lover of Onji's. When he found out he sent a team into Mainland China and extracted her without Lo-Chan's permission. The young woman in question has been staying in Onji's compound ever since."

"I would think that the opportunity to intervene on Onji's home turf, taking back what he perceives to be his is the impetus for Lo-Chan's eagerness."

Nicholas thought about that for a long moment. Lo-Chan was over five centuries old, he had seen China move from warlords to emperors to its current communist regime. He had been the power behind all of them; finally choosing communism and its inherent bureaucracy and corruption as the best way to keep the country under his iron, if invisible, grip. To think that he was eager to openly fight another of the chosen families over a single woman gave Nicholas serious pause.

"What is the name of Lo-Chan's second? That young man he chose, what was it, twenty years ago to be his eventual successor."

Darion gave an unseen shudder in the front seat before answering.

"Bin-Fong."

"That's it, Bin-Fong. See if you can get me a secure line to him as soon as we are in the air. Lo-Chan's aberrant behavior because of a woman is a cause for concern. I would like Bin's take on it."

Darion merely nodded into the review mirror, not looking forward to having to speak with the scum that would one day take control of one of the most populous and nationalistic nations on earth.

...

They had been in the air almost an hour before Darion came back to Nicholas' private office, knocking lightly on the door.

"Come."

The small blinds had been pulled down over the windows, only dim recessed lights illuminated the small room. It took Darion's eyes a moment to adjust, when they did he was not startled by what he found.

"Well?"

Nicholas was too involved with the ministrations of the young blond stewardess between his legs to put forth a wordier question.

"Bin-Fong is on line 2."

"Ah, excellent."

Nicholas gave the young woman a none to soft kick in the chest as he straightened himself.

"Leave."

Darion knew that he was included in the order as he helped the woman to her feet and guided her from the room.

"Bin, it has been too long."

Half a world away, Bin-Fong Tran's face twisted at the easy familiarity of this European fool.

He had met Nicholas several times, and each meeting had left him less and less impressed with the supposed leader of their clans.

'Chan is incompetent for allowing this ... boor ... to keep his supposed title.'

His thoughts calmed as he found his balance, falling back on his teachings to place everyone in perspective and not allowing personal feelings to get in the way of grander designs.

"Nicholas, it is good to hear from you, to what do I owe the honor?"

"I was hoping you could do me a favor and fill in a few missing details regarding your Chan and Onji."

There was a long pause, the dead air resonated between the two receivers over the vast distance between them and the satellite that was relaying their call.

"Chang lost something that is now in Onji's possession. This loss has clouded his judgment somewhat as to what is ... appropriate."

'Nicholas is going after Onji and Chan has agreed to help, not surprising that Chan has not told me this, he is well aware of my feelings regarding that little slut.'

Bin-Fong's mind was moving fast as he waited for Nicholas to continue.

"Do you believe that Chan's ability to make decisions has been compromised because of this?"

It was a loaded question, both negative and positive answers could have dire consequences to Bin if word got back to Chan.

Bin weighted the dangers and rewards quickly, things were now in motion that could speed up his timetable dramatically and provide the option of not only dealing with Chan but Nicholas as well.

"Chan has a long history of taking right actions that may seem odd in the moment they are made. It is not for me to say one-way or the other. However, for the ... good of our clans ... I would be honored to monitor Chan and let you know of any truly dangerous actions he may plan to take."

'Oh yes, I have to keep a much closer eye on this one.' Nicholas thought, unable to keep the small wicked grin from his lips, a small nod of respect for a somewhat kindred soul.

"Bin I would be very grateful if you would do just that. I am on my way to Singapore right now, we should be landing in about ten hours. Why don't you see what you can uncover and then we can meet in person to discuss the future."

"I would appreciate any of your time Nicholas. I look forward to meeting with you sometime in the next few days. Please do not hesitate to let me know if any further information comes your way, as well. Together we can insure that nothing or no one stands in the way of our clans' bright futures."

"I shall see you soon, Bin."

Nicholas stared at the handset for a time before pushing the intercom button.

"Darion, send her back in, and make sure we aren't disturbed."

"Yes, Sir."

Darion had given the young woman a stiff drink upon leaving Nicholas' office. He knew all to well that she would be summoned back.

He hoped the small amount of Rohypnol that he had placed in her drink would be enough for her to forget what was to come.

'If only forgetting was as easy for us all.' Darion thought walking back toward the front of the plane, trying hard to ignore the ever rising screams that followed him.

Edited By TeNderLoin