Unforgivable Page 6

  Jamus had barely heard the other guard and only his body’s natural instinct kept him from being skewered as he jumped back. The wild thrust missed its main target but the tip bite into Jamus’ still outstretched arm. The wound was deep and caused the strength in Jamus’ hand to weaken and the dagger nearly fell from his grip.

  “By the merciless gods you killed him, you bastard!” Garth bellowed, looking down to see the last, few stuttering breaths escape his friend’s mouth. “I’m going to fucking kill you, asshole!”

  “Better men have tried!” Jamus growled and Garth came forward.

  Garth’s blade slashed wildly for his friends’ murderer. Lack of proper skill with the sword was more than evident, even for Jamus, as he dodged the sloppy enraged attacks. The quick movements to avoid being cut down tore at the stitching in his side and fresh blood began seeping from his old wound again. Garth lunged forward again but his footing was hindered by the body of his fallen friend and he stumbled. Jamus took the chance and slashed for Garth’s throat while his guard was down but he missed - instead the blade cut deeply from Garth’s jaw line and up across his left eye. The jarring of blade on bone and the lack of strength Jamus had in his wounded arm caused the dagger to slip from his grasp.

  “My face!” Garth cried out in agony, his free hand going to the vicious wound which now blinded his left eye.

  Jamus knew he had to finish this before the noise drew the attention of others. He sidestepped to the left being sure to stay on Garth’s blind side, but the frightened and angry guard swung around, his blade arcing wide, keeping Jamus at a distance. He did not have time for this and charged forward. Garth slashed his blade, thinking to score a deathblow across Jamus’ midsection. Jamus pulled the length of his cloak around him and used it to trap the blade within its material. Jamus threw himself upon Garth and bore him to the ground, the sword clattered off to the side. Jamus tried to get a firm grip on the guard’s throat, but the blood of the man’s wound made it nearly impossible. Garth grabbed at Jamus’ hands, fighting to avoid strangulation. Jamus pulled one hand free and drove his fingers into Garth’s wound, causing him to scream in pain. Jamus pushed further up the wound, working his way to Garth’s damaged eye socket. Once he was free of bone, he forced his fingers deep - pushing them as far as they could go into his enemy’s eye. Garth thrashed and gurgled for several long moments before finally his body went limp.

  Jamus snatched up Garth’s fallen sword and ran for the mansion’s rear doors. It was unlocked - a sign of over confidence, only making Jamus grin at Nathan’s ignorance.

  Jamus crept through the hallway of the over lavish house, leaving bloody footsteps across the carpeted flooring as he went. He could hear movement within the house and knew night servants would be cleaning and preparing for the following day. He didn’t want to kill them - they were innocent in this - but if they got in his way he would cut them down with little remorse.

  After several turns, Jamus found a polished oak staircase that led to the second story of the house and likely where Nathan slept, peacefully unaware that death was coming for him.

  He reached the top of the stairs and had to lean against the wall to rest. His wounded arm throbbed and his fingers tingled from the lack of blood they were receiving. He tried to hold the sword in his right hand again and lifted it up. Even though the blade was not overly heavy - his grip on it was loose and he was sure if he swung it he would not be able to hold on. He thrust the blade forward - his arm screamed in pain but he was able to keep the blade within his grasp. It would have to do. He was about to continue on when he looked up and saw a servant woman staring wide eyed at him, barely holding on to the fresh linen she carried.

  “Please, please do not kill me,” she whimpered, her eyes darting all around as if sizing up a quick escape if she needed it.

  “I hold no ill-will toward you - you have my word,” Jamus whispered back, his tone soft as he truly prayed she would not cry out; he did not want to have to kill her. His words seemed to ease her mind slightly.

  “What is it you seek, coin and jewels or something more?” She asked, fear still in her tone as she stepped back nervously.

  Jamus stepped forward. “Please, do not run.” His tone relayed his intent if she did. “All I seek is Nathan Belmark - nothing more.” His gripped tightened on the sword at the name.

  The servant looked worried. “And if I don’t tell you, then what?”

  “I go on looking for him as I have been,” Jamus replied coldly. “I will find him and I will have my vengeance for what he did.”

  The woman swallowed hard. “What did he do?”

  “He butchered my family, kidnapped my daughter and left me for dead,” Jamus replied, pulling his hood back revealing his burned, scabbed features. “He should have stayed to make sure the job was done.”

  “Master Nathan has always been kind to me…” she paused and looked up into Jamus’ eyes, trying her best not to flinch. She could see the loathing and truth in his eyes - there was no mistaking it. “He sleeps down the hall, the red double doors on the end.”

  “Thank you,” Jamus whispered as he was about to continue, but forced himself to stop and look at the maid once more. She was terrified, but innocent - yet something within screamed at him to kill her. If he let her go and she called the guards, his own live would be forfeit - and Sofia...

  He shuttered at the thought of never seeing her again. At coming this far only to fail because of the righteousness that held onto hope within him.

  “I want you to have this,” Jamus said, holding out the three silver he had on him. She reached for the coins and Jamus snatched her outstretched arm and pulled her to him. Her eyes widened with fear as he stared down at her - his face void of emotion. She opened her mouth to scream but all that came from it was a wheeze of breath and a trickle of blood. Her eyes wondered down and all she could see was the hilt of Jamus’ sword between them and the fresh blood that oozed onto it.

  “I am so sorry,” Jamus whispered in her ear, fresh tears threatening to escape him. “I could not risk it.” He twisted the blade and shoved her back to the floor. He did not look back as he continued toward his target - if he looked back, the old Jamus would destroy him. Right now, all that mattered is he knew where Nathan was - the finely dressed, powder-faced man who had forced his way into his home and ordered the raping and killing of his family.

  Jamus rolled his shoulders and clenched his sword hand as he neared the double doors. He was mad that he was not in better form to deal with Nathan - he wanted to make the man suffer as he had suffered. He would never be able to inflict the emotional and mental anguish done to him, but the physical he might have been able to. The horrible beating he had received at the hands of Nathan’s brutes, the pain of blistering hot flames that had seared and burnt his flesh as he had crawled from the wreckage of his home. Had he the time and strength he would have ensured such a fate - but he did not. Whatever death came to Nathan when he pushed open the door would have to be enough to satisfy the revenge thirsty beast within him.

  Jamus had to fight his urge to kick the doors in and charge into the room - he knew his chances were better if he was silent and caught Nathan still within the warm comfort of his bed. He pushed down on the bronze latch and slowly the polished doors open - the hinges were so well maintained that not a sound came from them as Jamus entered the grand room.

  The moon illuminated the room through two door windows on the far wall that led to the room’s balcony. The huge bed rested its headboard against the far left wall, a figure lay within the comforts of the middle. Jamus lifted the blade as he crept toward the bed; he would slab Nathan within the guts. It would not kill him quickly and it would be painful, Jamus could testify to that, his free hand touching the oozing wound at his side where Markel’s dagger had found him days before. He would watch him die, watch his eyes light up as he realized who stood above him, and then watch the life fade from them with the knowing of who sent him to death’s halls. J
amus smiled maliciously - that would have to be good enough.

  Jamus could no longer contain himself - he ran the final steps to the bed and stabbed the short sword down deep. The blade sunk down through the figure into the bed, but did not have the proper feeling of flesh, nor did blood begin to seep from the deadly wound. Jamus pulled the blade free and tore the covers from the bed to see several pillows creating his sleeping enemy.

  “You think you could just break into my house, creep into my room, and kill me in my sleep like some common peasant?” Nathan’s voice hissed from behind him.

  Jamus swung around, the blade arcing around with him, his fingers screaming in bitter protest as they threatened to release the weapon, but they held through his desperation alone and caught nothing but air.

  Nathan laughed mockingly, a sword held defensively in his hand. “You think I would fall for such a simple attack? Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” Jamus stepped forward, his face catching the moon light, revealing his identity. “By cruel mercy of the gods!” Nathan exclaimed. “So, you found a way to escape death, Jamus, and now you have come to take revenge - is that it?” He laughed again. “I underestimated you.”

  Jamus lunged but Nathan easily sidestepped the attack - an explosion of pain erupted through the side of his head as the hilt of Nathan’s sword connected with his skull. Jamus staggered forward, barely keeping himself on his feet as he fought back the flashing lights that blurred his vision and the threat of unconsciousness. A biting pain slashed across his back and was quickly followed by Nathan’s mocking laughter. Again, Jamus spun around and stabbed. Nathan parried the feeble attack as if defending himself against a child and nearly took the weapon from Jamus’ numbed grip.

  “You’re trying so hard aren’t you?” Nathan asked - his wide sarcastic grin easily seen even in the dim light. “You made it all this way just to fail - how cruelly poetic. Come at me, Jamus - try one last time to avenge your family before I end your wretched life for good this time!”

  Jamus growled and ran forward - he knew he stood no chance at swordplay against Nathan. He stabbed forward, not even trying to hold onto the blade as Nathan parried the lunge wide. Jamus did not slow his charge; he lowered his head and hit Nathan square on. He took him right off his feet, his back crashing through the glass door and onto the balcony. They slammed into the stone railing, the air from Nathan’s lungs escaping him from the violent impact.

  Jamus struck Nathan with tightly balled up fists, jarring his head side to side with rage-filled blows, not allowing Nathan a moment to regain himself. The stone railing cracked and shifted as Nathan’s weight was pushed back into it repeatedly. Nathan tried to push himself off the railing, knowing it would give way at any moment, but Jamus contained him to that spot with his wild fury. A large piece of railing broke free, off balancing Nathan and he fell over the edge. With reflexes denying reality, Nathan’s fingers dug into the remaining railing and he caught himself before he plummeted to the cobblestone.

  “Jamus!” He cried in desperation. “I will give you anything, I swear it!” He looked down below and then back at the cold eyes regarding him. “Please, Jamus - I was only doing what I was told to do!”

  Jamus sneered down into Nathan’s eyes - fear radiated from them, pure agonizing fear. Jamus watched Nathan’s fingers slip from the smooth stone and smiled as his scream was cut short by the sickening sound of flesh and bone hitting stone.

  Unforgivable

  Part Nine

  Back Ally Runaway

  Jamus crashed through a pile of garbage and fell to the cold mud-covered ground. He pulled himself along, ignoring the biting pain of the grievous wounds that plagued his body. He ignored his body’s screams for him to stop, ignored his mind that was telling him to give up. He had come too far to even think of quitting now. He pulled himself back up using the aid of the sword he had taken from Garth. He could hear the angry shouts of the men who pursued him. He was a fool to think he could have gotten out of Nathan’s mansion after killing the whoreson without notice. He staggered on down the dark alleyway exhaustion and blood loss taking its toll.

  He rounded a corner of an ally junction and rested against the wall of a building, in hopes he could catch his breath and force back the dizziness that threatened to overwhelm him. He looked down at the blood soaked sword that had ended so many lives already that night. He had already killed three men in his escape from the mansion. Two had been unprepared guards that he had gotten fast advantage over; the third had been a servant who had come at him with a blade. Then two more guards had fallen by the sting of Jamus’ sword only moments ago. He had taken only minor wounds in that quick skirmish but they added to the whole - if he did not find hiding soon, minor wounds would become fatal.

  An arrow skipped off the brick a mere hand’s width from Jamus’ head and he turned to see three of his pursers had caught sight of him. The bowman was quick to notch another wicked barb and was already pulling back as they rushed closer.

  Jamus cursed his luck and ran, doing his best to stay moving - not willing to give the archer a clear shot. He rounded another corner and crashed into a guard.

  The guard seemed nearly as surprised as Jamus, but survival instinct flowed absolute in Jamus and he was the quicker to recover his sense. He stabbed his sword forward, nearly impaling the man clean through the midsection. The guard lurched forward and smashed a meaty fist into Jamus’ jaw - chipping teeth and tearing open the wounds that already marred his face. Jamus was nearly numb to the pain, but the force of the blow still staggered him back, leaving his sword within the man’s guts. The guard grabbed at the hilt of the blade in panic, trying to remove it.

  Jamus shook his head, trying to clear his distorted vision when a searing pain slashed through his upper leg. He looked down to see an arrow shaft deep within his thigh and knew his time was running out, as the angry shouts of his enemy grew even close. Jamus launched himself forward, ignoring the shooting pain that erupted through his leg in doing so. He grabbed the hilt of his sword and wretched it to the side with all the strength he could muster. The blade tore through the guard’s abdomen and nearly severed the man in two as he collapsed to the filthy ally floor trying to hold in his escaping entrails.

  Jamus ran down the alley, forcing his leg to work - forcing it to hold his weight. He could feel the arrowhead shredding the muscle and scrapping against bone with every stride, but still he ran. To stop would be to give up and to die.

  Another arrow skipped off the ground to the side of him and he knew he was losing ground as he struggled on. It would not be long before the men overtook him or an arrow struck true. He knew he would never be able to outrun them, but to turn and face three men would be suicide. He needed an advantage; he needed the element of surprise.

  Jamus went through an intersection that crossed through a main street and toppled through two drunks that were stumbling down the road. Jamus didn’t even slow, as he shoved through the men to the other side of the alley. He had almost thought to turn out of the alley and try his luck on roads, but the dim light seeping from the open edge of a back door kept him on his course.

  Jamus shouldered through the door and found himself standing in the backroom of a dirty tavern - face to face with a startled wash boy staring wide eyed with fear. “Shhh, I swear to you I will not hurt you, just don’t yell out!” Jamus pleaded as he pushed himself back against the wall by the doorway as the sound of the men neared. The boy trembled back, knocking over the large cast iron pot he had been scrubbing clean.

  “In here!” One of the guards called out as he came through the doorway and stopped to regard the terrified boy. “Where is he lad?” The boys eyes glanced over and the guard began to turn but it was too late. Jamus’ sword arced up with a double handed swing, catching under the man’s chin and severing clean through his neck. The blade stopped as it buried itself within the wooden doorframe. The guard’s body toppled to the floor and the boy screamed in terror, taking off throug
h the door leading to the tavern.

  Jamus tried to free his blade but the strength in his arms was all but gone and his hands slipped from the blood slick hilt. He crashed to the floorboards and went still, almost ready to give up.

  “Devils balls!” One of the guards muttered as he neared the tavern’s back door to witness the scene laid out before him.

  “That asshole killed Jonathan!” The other gasped, ducking under the trapped blade to get a closer.

  “Looks like they killed each other,” the first guard commented, seeing both bodies from the doorway.

  The archer stepped closer to Jamus’ blood soaked body, looking for the fatal blow that had ended his life. before he could get any closer, Jamus’ foot snapped up, catching the archer in the groin. The man lurched down in sudden agony, and Jamus kicked both legs up, connecting with his face and sending him sprawling backwards toward the door. Jamus’ imprisoned sword sank deeply into the back of the archer’s neck, severing through flesh and bone, nearly decapitating him.

  “You stupid fuck!” The final guard screamed, pushing past both his fallen comrades.

  Jamus scrambled to his feet and a massive blow to his face threw him back into the wall of hanging pots and pans. Before he could regain himself another powerful blow connected with his side, cracking already damaged ribs. Blood dripped from his mouth in nearly a steady flow as he looked up at his enraged attacker. The guard had his sword unsheathed, and was preparing to strike one final time.

  “What in the damnable hell is going on it here?” screamed a furious barkeep from the kitchen doorway.

  “None of your damn business!” snapped the guard, taking his eyes from Jamus for just a moment.

  Jamus seized that moment and attacked; without thought he tore the arrow shaft from his leg and drove it into the guard’s neck again and again. A crazed scream escaping his lips with each fresh puncture wound he inflicted.