Disclaimer: Pokemon not mine… >.<

Notes: <> for telepathy, ** for thoughts, and italics for pokemon talking.

Timeline: Nine years later…

 

Chapter 8: Italy – The Count of Monte Cristo

 

            It was the carnival in Italy, and the crowds ran wild. The young Ashura de Morcerf, Giovanni’s son, and also Viscount de Morcerf, was among the latecomers. Accompanied by his friends, he was enjoying the sights Rome had to offer.

            Candles and fireworks streamed all over the city, as the masked marauders jostled and danced and sang and frolicked in the dark.

            At the stroke of midnight, the clock struck twelve and all the lights extinguished.

            He had attracted the attention of a beautiful young lady, and now, Ash was determined to visit her. Indeed, he had finally acquired an invitation of meeting.

            As the beautiful blonde girl led him off, the young man, barely eighteen and a man, reflected on his life. It was a good life, certainly.

            But as he turned to plant a kiss on her lips, a pistol suddenly dug into his ribs, and six men suddenly jumped out of the shadows and the next thing he knew, he was tied up to a pillar in the marvelously damp and gloomy catacombs of Rome.

 

            “Well, my young friend.” A voice said. “You seem to be in rather dire circumstances.”

            “Who are you?! And why are you keeping me here?”

            “Why, I am none other than Morty, the celebrated banditti of Rome.” The man said, smiling. Indeed, he was not much older than Ash himself. “We are bad men, and as for why you are here, well, we want the money.”

            “What do you want with me? You’ve already taken the money in my waistcoat. That’s all I have, really!”

            “Oh, that is simple enough,” Morty said with a smile. “It’s not your money that we want. Your father is the Count de Morcerf, is he not? And you are his only son.”

            “Ransom!” Ash hissed.

            “Quite right.” Morty said. “Now then… shall I send him your ring as a message?”

            “This ring has the crest of Morcerf! He’ll take it!”

            “On the other hand, I do have a rather strict policy considering prisoners… twenty-four hours, then.”

            ‘What?”

            “Twenty-four hours, my dear boy. If by the end of twenty-four hours, no sum has come to me, I shall be forced to send your father the ring – oh, and your corpse.”

            “Never!” Ash hissed, but his mind was turning. * No! I can’t – I who will help me now? Both Richie and Green took off to visit Florence for a week! *

            “Oh dear me.” Morty said, violet eyes widening in mock surprise. “I was unaware that your friends were gone. I suppose I shall have to kill you now.”

            “Do your worst!” Ash growled out. * How did he read my mind? *

 

            A kind of quiet applause drifted from the entrance. As Ash turned, he saw a man, perhaps in his mid-thirties, dressed entirely in black, carrying a glittering silver sword in each hand. Golden-blue sparks snapped around him.

            Ash stared, when suddenly, the man seemed to blur into motion and two of the guards went flying. A third was run through completely, although the darkness obscured his face. Two more guards were flung aside, as if they were playthings.

            “Release him. Now.” The mysterious man said. “Or I shall be forced to start cutting your corpses!”

            A sixth man came up behind him, but he was easily dispatched in mere seconds. A seventh, also, but he was no match.

            Morty really seemed to need no encouragement, as he quickly cut Ash’s bonds and freed him.

            The man whistled, and a black-clad servant quickly escorted Ash out to a waiting carriage. The mysterious fiery-headed one smiled, as the guards vanished into blurs and then, nothingness, and tossed something at Morty.

            The bandit caught the elegant sapphire necklace in one hand easily.

            “Well done, Ghost Master.” The man said, as he headed back out into the streets of Rome.

            Morty half-smiled. “Perfection, your Excellency – or shall I say, my dear Dragon Master.” He tossed the necklace up once and smirked.

 

            “You are a brave young man. I must insist that you come to my estate tomorrow for breakfast.” Outside, talk began freely.

            “Who are you?” Ash asked. “I cannot thank you enough for saving my life.”

            “Well,” Said the man as he climbed into the carriage. “Tonight you can call me your friend, tomorrow, your host, but at all times, the Count of Monte Cristo.”

            Ash studied the man. He was dressed in fashionably cut black garments, down to his polished boots, and a single streak of blue ribbon was seen at his throat. Over his eveningwear he wore a cloak, also of black, lined with red satin that almost shimmered golden…. He had alert, watchful eyes, though Ash wondered where that golden shade had come from, while his hair was a veritable waterfall of crimson locks, streaked through with gold and silver. Lovely… eh? Where did that thought come from?

           

The next morning…

            Ash stared at the sumptuous surroundings done in blue and gold as he was escorted into the breakfast room by two footmen and seated. A minute later the count entered and seated himself opposite of Ash.

            “Sir, how did you know of my predicament?”

            “I have many connections.” The Count said, as he signed some papers. “Some less reputable than others. I pay well to be informed of anything of note in any city in which I am residing.”

            “But why risk your life rescuing me?”

            “As one noble to another, and I surmise you would have done the same for me.” Monte Cristo said softly. He whistled and the servants came in, bearing platters of food.

            “Please, let me introduce you to my parents in Paris.” Ash said.

            The Count glanced at some papers he was perusing. “Alas, I am afraid I have not the time. I have business to deal with…”

            “But please, sir!” Ash almost begged. * Surely – I have to do something to repay him for saving my life! *

            “Just a second,” The Count said, ringing a gong thrice. “Silver?”

            The former sailor-slash-smuggler and Lance’s good friend – now one of his bodyguard/servants appeared and sketched a bow. “Yes?”
            “Where is the yacht at the moment?”

            “En route to Switzerland as your Excellency asked,” Silver replied.

            “Very well, so I have… three weeks?”

            “More or less.”

            “Then I suppose I shall accept your invitation.” The Count said. Ash was quite delighted.

            “Oh thank you sir, you won’t regret it!”
            A faint smile passed over the Count’s lips again. * Perhaps you will… *

 

            Six days later…

 

            “How very lovely.” The Count said as he surveyed their surroundings. It was evident that young Ash de Morcerf did not live in any condition of poverty.

            “Indeed.” Ash said. “May I introduce you to my friends? This is Monsieur Todd, the journalist, Monsieur Wallace, assistant to the minister, Monsieur Green, a longtime friend of the family, and Monsieur Koga, a brave new soldier.”

            A faint smile passed over the count’s lips at Koga’s name.

            “You wear the uniform of the new conquerors, sir. It is a handsome uniform.”

            “Ah, sir.” Green said. “Beneath this uniform beats one of the bravest hearts in the army!”
            Koga glared at Green. Apparently this was not a subject he wished to discuss.

            “He saved my life, you see, two months ago.”

            “Well, it was the anniversary of my father’s miraculous rescue.” Koga said. “I vowed to save a man on that very day.”

            “And as luck befell, the life he saved was mine.” Green said.

            “How very interesting.” The count said as he sipped a glass of wine delicately.

 

            “Does our French food not please you?” Ash asked anxiously as they breakfasted.

            “Oh, on the contrary. I simply do not choose to overindulge,” Was the response of he as the count tasted sparingly of the multitude of dishes set before him.

            Ash and the others chatted for a while before the other young men dispersed like the wind, off to their duties elsewhere, leaving Ash and Monte Cristo alone.

 

End Chapter 8

Completed 7/22/03

So …

Todd = Beauchamp

Koga = Maximilian Morrel

Green = Franz

Wallace  = Lucien Debray

Ash = Albert de Morcerf