Terence West - Saint 01 - Darkness.pdf

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Darkness
Terence West
Darkness
Copyright © 2006 Terence West
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. Published in Canada
by Double Dragon eBooks, a division of Double Dragon Publishing Inc. of Markham Ontario, Canada.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic,
electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or
retrieval system, without the permission in writing from Double Dragon Publishing Inc.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or
dead, is entirely coincidental.
Double Dragon eBooks
PO Box 54016 1-5762 Highway 7 East
Markham, Ontario L3P 7Y4 Canada
Layout and Cover Illustration by Deron Douglas
ISBN: 1-55404-361-1
First Edition June 12, 2006
Also Available as a Large Type Paperback
Now Available as paperback and hard cover
A Celebration of Cover Art: 2001 to 2006
Five Years of Cover Art
[Companion calendars also available]
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Dedication
To my daughter Lexi:
May your life be wonderful and rich and all your dreams fulfilled.
Table of Contents
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PART ONE
One Soul…
It will not be easy .
It will be a life without reward, without remorse, without regret .
This path is placed before you, stretching out endlessly into the horizon. The road forks and winds into
countless millions of different possibilities, each changing everything .
But the path is yours alone .
It will not be easy .
PROLOGUE
White fog laced with heavy black smoke from the numerous campfires drifted over what would
become the night’s battlefield. As the last rays of sunlight began to sink in a pink and orange haze
behind the horizon, the far-off sound of inhuman war cries began to waft over the peaceful grassy
plain. To the east sat a dense line of trees that cut like a scar across the pristine green field before them.
Darkness, even in midday, seemed to cling to this place as if it were a mother protecting its young. It
swooped in and around the grizzled branches of the trees and vegetation, providing a soupy blanket that
most sane men would not penetrate.
On this night, they had no choice.
It was the year 1704 of their lord, a day when all must be sacrificed for the good of mankind. The
encroaching darkness had moved too far into the world of man. They vowed to draw the line here and
no farther. These creatures were more like a plague than an invading army. They would attack with
sheer animal ferocity, all the while, harvesting the dead soldiers to their own ranks. To send wave after
wave of soldiers at them did nothing more than bolster their army, yet this was what the Esgobaeth had
seen. This was the way it must be.
Many did not see the wisdom of the Esgobaeth—the High Council—yet Solomon Cole was beginning
to. The upcoming battle, while important to the men here today, held significance for the future, no
matter the outcome. Tonight would be a defining moment for the Gwyliad Wriaeth. Cole was starting
to understand that. Sir Solomon Cole was a knight of the British Empire. He fought for those in the
realm who could not do so. This was his sworn duty and he would die to uphold it. It was this belief in
duty and honor that led him to the White Guard. Swathed in mystery and disinformation, they were
fighting a war they went to great lengths to conceal from all prying eyes. There was greater importance
here than the empire’s acquisition of wealth and land. These men were defending the future. Cole could
not let this call go unheeded. He was fighting tonight for the very fate of every man, woman, and child
on Earth.
Drawing his broad sword from its sheath, Cole listened to the clink of his plate armor as he gripped the
hilt with both hands. Clad from head to toe in meticulously crafted armor and chain mail, he sat
proudly on the back of his sturdy, powerful steed. A bloody, jagged wound sliced from his left cheek to
his throat, spilling blood on the silver and gold breastplate of his armor—a trophy from the previous
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night’s engagement. His mocha colored hair fell down from his head in curly waves and terminated just
above the imperial purple collar of his shirt. His dark brown eyes scanned the empty battlefield ahead
as the sounds of war once again met his ears.
The armored segments on his gloves scraped together as he moved the sword into one hand and lifted it
high above his head. Turning to look behind him, he surveyed his men. Each clad in various bits of
armor and common clothing, they held their weapons at the ready. Hands shook and lips trembled as
they faced what they knew would probably be their final moonrise. Some were extremely young,
having just entered Her Majesty’s Service, while others had weathered far too many winters. Yet, each
was willing to fight and die at Cole’s side, no questions asked.
A proud smile flickered across Cole’s face as he pulled on his horse’s reins and turned the beast toward
the men. “You men should all be commended on your courage,” he boomed. “You are not fighting for
the queen or England, but rather, for the lives of our children, and our children’s children.” He began to
pace back and forth in front of his regiment. “I do not know what the future holds for us,” he admitted,
giving the men a brief glimpse of the same fear that ran cold through their veins, “but tonight, mankind
takes back the night!”
The men cheered loudly.
“Tonight,” Cole paused, “we fight!”
Wild cheers erupted among the men as they clanged their weapons together and stamped their feet.
Turning back to the battlefield, Cole saw the first of the golden-eyed demons break free of the trees.
Taking a deep breath, he gripped his horse’s reins tightly in his armored hand. Pointing his sword
forward, he dug his spurred heels into the horse sending it surging ahead.
“Charge!”
As Cole’s army of Wraiths raced across the green field, they caught the first glimpse of their enemy.
Looking like nothing more than fragile, gray, reanimated corpses, each creature’s eyes burned a
shimmering gold that illuminated the night. As the creatures spilled from the eternal darkness of the
forest onto the battlefield, the men quickly spotted a few who had previously been among their ranks.
Several of the creatures wore shattered bits of armor and shreds of white fabric—the traditional color of
the Wraith. To Cole’s horror, the demons began to change. Their demonic forms melted away in favor
of healthy pink flesh and clothes that were not previously there. They quickly began to mimic the
appearance of Cole’s army. Cursing under his breath, Cole locked his eyes onto one of the men he
knew was an enemy and pushed his horse faster toward the fray.
As the battle was joined, a fallen horse’s scream shattered the cool evening air. The creatures surged
ahead into Cole’s ranks, clawing and destroying as they went. Moving almost too fast for the human
eye, the first wave tore through the Wraiths with pure, animal ferocity. Men were ripped from their
mounts and flung across the battlefield like children’s toys, while others never had the chance to strike.
It was as if a dark tide washed into the army and sent them sprawling helplessly across the ground.
Several of Cole’s men fought ahead undaunted, their silver blades carving a swath through the
darkness. As a man was picked off from behind, Sir Gerard, one of the few of Cole’s fellow knights to
join the Gwyliad Wriaeth, lifted a fallen banner from the ground. Holding it high as he cut and slashed,
he forged ahead, even though his horse had been killed. Five men followed Gerard’s lead and fought
brilliantly through wave after wave of oncoming demons. However, luck was not on their side this
night. One by one, the creatures dismantled the unit.
Holding the banner in his left hand, Gerard struck ahead with his sword, embedding the blade deep in
the heart of a golden-eyed soldier, now more determined than ever. Snapping his gaze to the right, he

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