Unforgivable Read online

Jamus spotted Barbra cleaning one of the newly emptied tables near the stairs, went over, and sat down.

  “You may want to sit at another table until this one is clean s….” She began to say, but stopped when she finally noticed who was beneath the cloak. “So you decided to come see me? I am surprised… or are you here to…” She stopped, her brow lifted in suspicion.

  “How much for a drink?” Jamus asked, his tone distant and cold.

  “More than you have,” she told him bitterly, then cursed to herself. “Wait here.” She left and went behind the bar and was back shortly with a large tankard of foaming ale. “This isn’t the path you want to find yourself going down,” she told him as she placed the drink down in front of him.

  Jamus took the tankard in his hand and lifted to his lips. “How would you know what path I wish to take? And what difference is it to you?” He growled back, tipped the cup to his lips, and drank deeply of the warm, bitter brew. He stifled a cough as he put the half drained tankard back on the table, wiping the foam from his lips, carefully, so not to tear the scabs that ruined his face.

  Barbra leaned in close, her eyes locked with his. “I know well what path this will lead and believe you me it’s not one that you want. The pain you feel is nothing to the pain this path will take you.” She left to clean another table, leaving Jamus alone with his foul tasting drink.

  Jamus turned the tankard slowly on the table as he contemplated finishing it quickly. He lifted the cup to his lips again and was about to pour its contents down his throat when he noticed a large man coming down the stairs, adjusting his trousers with a lustful smirk. Jamus lowered the tankard back to the table and watched as the man got close enough for him to see clearly in the faint light of the tavern.

  The man walked passed Jamus’ table, bumping into the chair opposite of where Jamus sat. The man looked down at him, a drunken sneer on his face as he passed by and went to the bar. That face… Jamus knew that face… the scene flashed before his eyes… the thick, powerful hands holding his arms, raining blows down upon him as he tried to crawl to his family. He had been one of the men at his house that night.

  Jamus’ eye narrowed with hate; he stood up from his chair, his eyes searching the room desperately for some kind of weapon. He felt someone grab his arm and he quickly pulled it free, nearly swinging a fist at Barbra’s head in reaction.

  “It is just me,” she said, taking a step back. “What is it? What is a matter?” Her gaze followed his to the man at the bar. “Do you know Tanner?” She gasped as she realized the situation. “You should leave, you don’t want to do this now, you are weak and Tanner is a fighter - you won’t beat him outright, not like this.”

  “Cormack, I’ll take another drink. I’ll pay ya when I come back,” Tanner called to the tavern owner. “I am gonna go outside and take a piss.”

  Jamus pushed Barbra aside and started to follow Tanner. “Jamus!” She called to him, but he paid her no mind as he pushed open the wooden door that led to the dark alleyway where patrons relieved themselves on the adjacent building.

  Jamus stopped, his eyes seething with hate as he watched Tanner adjust himself and moan as he started to relieve himself. Tanner’s back was too him, but Jamus held no higher code of honor, not anymore.

  “Can’t a guy take a piss in peace?” Tanner slurred over his shoulder.

  Jamus growled and charged, slamming into Tanners back, throwing his whole weight into the attack on the man nearly twice his size. Tanner smashed into the wall, his face connecting with the brick with a sickening crunch. Jamus moved off to the side, letting Tanner’s confused and sluggish body crumple down to the filthy alleyway floor. Jamus looked down at him - his nose was broken and lay crooked against the side of his face, blood poured freely from it down his mouth where several cracked and broken teeth now showed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Tanner coughed out, trying to look up at his attacker. “I have no quarrel with you.”

  Jamus kicked with all his strength - his boot tip punched into Tanner’s side, nearly flipping the large brute over with the force. Tanner groaned in agony between blood-filled coughs that glazed the muddy ground beneath him. Jamus gritted his teeth at the lancing pain that bit into his own side, and he knew he had torn his stitches, he could already feel fresh blood oozing out, but he didn’t care - his hate would numb it.

  “What is a matter with you?” Tanner gasped out. “When I get up I am going kill you, you bastard!”

  “You come to my house!” Jamus screamed and kicked again. “You attack me and my family!” Another kick landed and this time he could feel ribs give way. “You butcher my family!” Jamus stomped down on Tanner’s head, relishing in the sound it made as it hit the cobblestone. “You take my daughter and leave me for dead…” Jamus brought his foot down again on the back of Tanner’s head, his words pulling him out of his rage. Sofia, his daughter, she was still alive somewhere, but where? Jamus looked down at the bloodied form - the blood around his mouth bubbled between pain labored breaths. “Where is she?” Jamus screamed at him.

  Tanner slowly began pushing himself up again, his face a mangled mess of gore. Jamus dropped down beside him, his hands gripping Tanner’s thick, greasy, bloodied hair. “I said, where is she? Where is my daughter, you bastard?” When no answer was forth coming Jamus smashed Tanner’s head into the cobble again, he lifted it up. “Where, damn you!” He thrashed his enemies head off the stone repeatedly as blind rage overwhelmed him once more.

  “Get the hell off of him!” An angry voice barked.

  A powerful blow struck him across the head - glass shards exploded everywhere as he pitched to the side, his hood falling back as he landed, exposing his cruel features. Jamus tried to push himself back up, but his head spun with disorientation and his eyes were blurred by bright flashes of colors.

  “By the gods, you killed him!” The voice muttered in near disbelief. “You are gonna pay for that with your life, you whoreson piece of shit.”

  Jamus began to gather his focus as the man stepped toward him, his hands already clenched into thick fists. The man got closer, sputtering curses and a promise of a slow death. Jamus pushed himself up onto his knees and looked up; if he was going to die here, he wanted to see it coming.

  The man stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. “Sweet merciful mother…” he stuttered out. “Its…it’s you, but… but you’re dead, there is no way you could have survived that.”

  Jamus quickly recognized the other man who had held him down and beat him nearly to death while his family had been tortured before his eyes. He sprung forward and grappled the large man, his hate giving him the strength to overpower his opponent as he pushed him back several steps. Soon, shock wore off and the man regained himself. He slapped Jamus’ arms away and a fist connected with his injured side. Agony swept through Jamus as if he had been injected with liquid fire, he screamed out and collapsed.

  “I don’t know how you survived that fire, but I am gonna finish the job right this time,” the man barked, pulling his dagger from his belt. He took a step forward, the blade glinting off the moonlight. Suddenly his face contorted, the dagger fell from his grasp, and both his hands went behind his back, reaching for something unseen. His legs buckled beneath him and blood spurted from his mouth as he muttered something unintelligible.

  Jamus looked at the man before him, blood trickling down his chin, confusion playing through his eyes as life dimmed from them and he pitched forward, his last breath escaping him.

  “Are you alright?” Barbra asked, a long crimson stained kitchen knife held tightly in hand.

  “You… you killed him,” he muttered in disbelief.

  “Hey! What is going on out here, Tanner? You had better not be messing up the place!”

  Barbra turned around to see Cormack, the tavern owner, standing in the doorway taking in the scene before him. “Its…it’s not what you…” She stuttered.

  “Holy shit!” Cormack cried out. “They’re dead -
you killed them.”

  “No, no it’s not what it looks like,” Barbra pleaded desperately as she looked down at the blade held in her hand and knew what it looked like.

  “Help!” Cormack yelled. “Someone help!”

  Jamus grabbed Barbra’s arm, and pulled her down the alleyway to the road. “We have to go, we can’t stay here.”

  “No, no we didn’t do anything wrong,” she cried back, still looking down the alleyway. “It was self-defense!”

  “That’s not what it looks like,” Jamus replied, rounding the corner, “and we haven’t the status or coin to convince them otherwise.”

  They made their way through the dark streets towards Barbra’s house, knowing they would not be able to stay there for long before someone came looking for them. They would have to leave Milton.

  Unforgivable

  Part Six

  The Calm Before The Storm

  The flames licked greedily at the dry wood, consuming each year-representing layer, turning them into a dead white ash that was quickly integrated in the growing pile beneath. Jamus was lost in the hypnotic dance of the fire, his mind scattered by violent flashes. Each one threatening to bring forth fresh tears, yet each one set his purpose further and pushed back his humanity, the kind, gentle farmer he had once been.

  “How are you holding up?” Barbra asked, adding several more small branches to the ever hungry flames.

  Jamus shook his head in surprise. He had forgotten she was even there. It had been a long night. After running from The Drunken Mule, they had gone to Barbra’s home - knowing they could not stay. She had gathered several things within a pack and then they had disappeared into the night before the authorities had come in search for them.

  “I am fine,” he replied, almost annoyed at being disturbed, yet thankful that his mind no longer flashed such cruel memories.

  “I should check those stitches - you did a hell of a number on them. I would hate to see them open a third time, there won’t be enough skin to close them again if they do. I would have cauterized it had I known the lifestyle you were living,” Barbra chuckled and moved to get up.

  “They are fine,” Jamus replied, detached and not wishing to think of his own mortality, though the pulsing in his side proved that several of the stitches were torn.

  “Alright, have it your way. If you want me to look at them just let me know,” she said, getting up and walking several feet away from their camp. She knelt into the damp earth and lowered her head.

  “What are you doing?” Jamus asked, his tone sharper then he had truly intended.

  “Praying.”

  Jamus nearly laughed aloud, “For what?”

  “Forgiveness, redemption, mercy, salvation, a new purpose perhaps,” Barbra explained with a shrug. “I guess I will find out once I am done or maybe I won’t - the gods work mysteriously.”

  Jamus chuckled mockingly. “You’re a fool if you think the gods are listening and a bigger fool if you believe they even care about us lowly mortals.”

  “I am alright with being a fool,” She countered. “I shall pray for you as well, Jamus.”

  “Save your breath for something of real purpose,” Jamus muttered back. “The gods had my prayers once before. They have forsaken me now, and I have forsaken them.”

  Barbra ignored him, the crackling of the fire was all the sound that could be heard for several long minutes. Finally, Barbra gathered herself from her knees and came back to the fire, sitting across from Jamus once more.

  “Find your answers?” Jamus asked bitterly, poking the coals with a long stick.“From gods that require you on your knees to speak to them.”

  “I prayed from you, not for me,” she replied, ignoring his spitefulness.

  “Wasted words spoken to unworthy deities.”

  “I know your pain, Jamus.”

  “Do you? Do you, Barbra?” Jamus spat across to her. “Did you watch your family get butchered in front of your eyes, for the sole reason of trying to protect your child from a pervert? Did you watch them rape and torture your wife repeatedly as she stared at you and begged for your help? Then once they had their fun run a blade across her throat and there was NOTHING you could do about it?”

  “Of course not, Jamus, what happened to you and yours was a cruel, horrible thing that I pray is never matched,” Barbra replied remorsefully. “But I did lose my husband and the pain that ruptured through me after that is what I am seeing in you now.”

  Jamus opened his mouth to release a bitter retort when he caught the emotion in her eyes as they brimmed with tears. Shame struck him like a well-placed blow - how could he belittle her pain and loss, when it was so much like his own? He turned his head away from her, indignity plain in his eyes. “How did you lose him?”

  Barbra stared at the fire as the past swirled alive in her thoughts. “Jarrod was by no means a perfect man, but he was good to me - he treated me right, never once laid a violent hand on me and he truly loved me for who I was. He was sweet at times and hard when he had to be - but he was a gambler, and sadly, not a very lucky one. It was an addiction he just could not seem to resist when opportunity presented itself,” she paused and a small chuckle escaped her. “He always used to tell me, ‘Barbra, I can’t win big if I don’t play.’ A fine theory it would have been if he ever actually won back more than he lost. He was a fine carpenter with steady work and made decent coin to allow for a small loss from time to time. One night he sat down to a game with some men who were just passing through town. Jarrod wasn’t much of a drinker, but if the mood was right he sometimes overindulged and apparently that night the mood was just so. He drank too much, and lost more than he had and more than he could pay,” she stopped, her eyes glossy with memories. “I waited all night for him to come home. When dawn arrived and he still had not returned I went to the tavern. The local guard had arrived too late to save him and the men had already fled the town. They beat him to death in the street over the few silver he owed them.”

  “I am sorry,” Jamus whispered softly.

  Barbra smiled lightly. “Thank you, Jamus, it was several years ago now. I have had plenty of time to grieve and accept it. But for that first year, I was a mess, much like yourself. Emotions overwhelmed me at nearly every corner, threatened to destroy who I once was with every tear that escaped. I turned to the bottle in hopes it would drowned my sorrows and memories, it did for a time, but all demons not truly slain come around again. For nearly a year, I did what I could to stay within that drunken haze. Things I am not proud of, things that nearly hurt worse than the pain I was trying to run from.”

  “How did you ever find yourself again?” Jamus asked, hope thinly lining his tone at the prospect.

  “I woke on the floor of an inn room covered within my own vomit and blood, not a coin to my name and not a drop of liquor within the place, as I had many times before. Truth be told had I not stopped to look at myself within the mirror before leaving to find my next drink I may still be in such a reckless state or worse, dead. But I did stop, and the broken filthy woman staring back at me was like a dagger to my soul.” She went silent for a long moment, adding several sticks to the fire again. “I stared at myself within that mirror for hours, fighting with myself about all I had done and all I had been. Trying to justify everything I had done against everything I should have done.” She smiled. “Finally, the better me won the battle.”

  “I don’t plan on drinking my sorrows away, Barbra,” Jamus replied. “Drinking won’t save my Sofia.”

  Barbra nodded. “I know, Jamus - what you will do, will be far worse.”

  “What am I to do?” Jamus countered. “Just let them get away with it? Just forget my daughter is alive and leave her in the hands of that perverse monster?”

  “No, Jamus, you must do what it is you have begun, be it right or wrong in anyone else’s eyes, it needs to be finished. She needs to be saved and those guilty need to be punished and you are the only one who can do it,” she replied solemnly. �
��Just remember the man you were when this is all over. You will be no good to Sofia if you are not the father she knows when you have her in your arms once more.”

  Jamus was about to snapped back, when her words finally struck true. After everything that had happened, Sofia would need her father - her real father, not the monster he was becoming. He prayed he could still find that man when the time came. But for now he could not allow that man back out, that man was weak and would not be able to see this through.

  Jamus glared hard at the flames, angry with himself now. “I killed Tanner before he gave me a name.”

  Barbra sighed. “I believe I know who lead the group that came to your home.”

  Jamus’ attention snapped up and he jumped from the log he was using as a seat. “Who is he? Where is he?” He demanded, his voice seething with intent.

  “His name is Nathan Belmark - he lives in Tri-Dale, two towns north of where we are now. He is a rich and powerful vassal, who is always at the beck and call of his cousin, Lord Carter. I believe he was the one who came to your house that night as he was the one that I seen at Markel’s the same night your daughter was taken.”

  Jamus could barely contain his rage at the mention of the two men who had destroyed his life. “Then Tri-Dale is where I am headed.”

  Barbara grimaced, “I know, Jamus…I know.”

  Lord Carter stood staring out of his office bay window, down into the large lavish garden that lay beneath. His eyes danced with perversion as he watched Sofia feeding the two swans that resided within the garden’s pond. He licked his lips as his hand slipped within his silken robe at the sudden arousal of watching her. Things had been going well with the girl. Already she was beginning to consider him a friend and opened up about her feelings and thoughts - so innocent. The death of Tyler had been far more benefit than he had expected to his cause. He had been told she was still crying herself to sleep at night, but that was of little concern to him. He groaned aloud as his hand stroked his swollen member. It would not be long now until he took her to his bed - he could not wait much longer, his urges were nearly overwhelming him lately. He bit his bottom lip at the thought her soft flesh beneath him.