Unforgivable Page 7

  “Sweet mercy of the gods - someone get in here and help me!” The barkeep cried out, but when he turned back to the gory scene, Jamus was gone.

  Unforgivable

  Part Ten

  The Demon Of Ever-Dale

  Lord Carter moved arrogantly through the market place in his fineries, taking his time to view anything that caught his fancy. His twelve-man escort did well to encircle him at a distance - ensuring that no one dared step into their Lord’s perimeter without permission. Carter did not often come to the marketplace - he had servants for that task. But today was different - today he wanted to show off his strength, wealth and power over those around him in some hope that she would relish in it as much as he.

  Carter stopped in front of a silk merchant’s booth, his eyes scanning over the dozens of colored bundles of fabric. His fingers felt the smoothness of several different bundles while he waited impatiently for the merchant to finish his sale with another patron on the other side of the booth.

  “Many apologies for keeping you waiting, my Lord,” the merchant groveled, quickly realizing who was standing before his stall. “Had I seen it was you, my Lord, I would have made the other man wait for his wares.”

  Carter smiled slightly but his eyes showed his irritation. “Yes, well no matter, Tomas, I see nothing of worth here anyways,” he lied. Tomas was the most well-known silk merchant in nearly all of the Faer-Tri - his fine silks were unmatched.

  Tomas’s eyes darkened in anger, only for a moment. He knew better than to argue with Lord Carter. Last fall, a well-established butcher had argued about the quality of his meats with the Lord - days later the butcher’s body had turned up down an alleyway in pieces. No proof had been found, but everyone in the market place had known who had ordered it done.

  “Not my finest product, I will admit, my Lord,” Tomas replied, holding his tone in check, though several of the bundles displayed Carter had purchased not long ago and boasted of the superior quality.

  “A shame - I had had my hopes up that you would have something of worth for my young guest here,” Carter replied, shaking his head. “Alas, I will have to see what goods Alabaster has - I am sure his wares will not disappoint,” Carter added as he began to walk away, with Sofia by his side.

  Tomas frowned at the mention of his competitor’s name but was quick to act. “Ah, but I don’t always display my finest products for the common riff-raff to gawk at and finger with their filthy paws.”

  Carter stopped and grinned as he turned back to the merchant. “Oh? And do you have such product tucked away from unworthy eyes?”

  Tomas smiled, knowing he had the Lord now and was sure to make a good sale if he played it out right. “But of course, my Lord - give me but a moment to retrieve it from the lock box.” Tomas ducked away into his supply tent and was back quickly with a tightly wrapped bundle. “This, I am sure, is up to the standards my Lord seeks.” Tomas slowly began unwrapping the large bundle of silk, doing so purposely as he watched the suspense in Carter’s eyes. “This may be the very finest silk I have ever possessed,” Tomas lied, he had several of the very same within his display. The only thing that made this silk different was the unique coloring that had randomly occurred during its dyeing. Tomas could tell by the way Carter’s eyes danced that he favored the bluish color, even the girl’s eyes seemed to glitter with fancy. “I assure you it is a one of a kind color,” he paused, “at least for now, that is. More is to be made since I am sure it will be in high demand once people see it on such a beauty as your young guest.” Tomas looked down at the girl and a sting of guilt coursed through him - he knew the likelihood of the girl’s fate. Many rumors circulated through the city of Carter’s grotesque fetishes with the young.

  “One of a kind you say,” Carter mused, his fingers touching the smooth shimmering silk. His mind raced at how the silk would feel on his naked body when he took Sofia to his bed the first time.

  “You have my word, my Lord.”

  “What do you think, Sofia?” Carter asked her.

  Sofia came forward and looked at the bright blue material. “It is lovely, my Lord,” she replied meekly.

  Carter bent down near her. “What would you say to me buying this to have a beautiful dress made for you?”

  Sofia’s eyes lit up. “Really? But why would you do such a thing for me?”

  Carter’s laugh was rich and playful. “Because, my dear, I want to do something nice for you.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and for the first time, she did not flinch away from his touch. “I plan on doing many nice things for you, Sofia - for a very long time.” She smiled at him and gave him a hug. The smell of her hair and feel of her so close to him began to stir his arousal.

  Sofia pulled away. “You are so kind to me.”

  Carter turned back to Tomas and tossed a small pouch of silver onto the table. “I will take the whole bundle, I am sure that is more than a fair payment.”

  Tomas snatched up the pouch and weighed it with his hand. “Yes indeed, my Lord. Would you like me to take the girls measurements and have them and the silk taken to my seamstress?”

  “Yes, Tomas,” Carter answered. “I expect the dress to be something as fitting for the uniqueness of the color.”

  “But of course, my Lord.”

  “I also expect it to done within three days’ time,” Carter responded, his brow raised in wonder. “I assume that will not be an issue?”

  Tomas looked fretful for but a heartbeat. “No, of course not, my Lord. I shall have it delivered to your door step the moment it is finished.” Tomas motioned for Sofia to step around the stall where a stool and measuring tape awaited.

  Carter scanned the marketplace for where he would like to go next when he noticed one of his men coming towards him. “What is it, Marshal?”

  Marshal bowed his head. “My Lord, I have dire news - I believe you wouldn’t want to wait until your return home to hear.”

  “What is it?”

  Marshal licked his lips nervously. “It is about Nathan - he was murdered in his home last night along with several of his personal guard.”

  The news struck Carter hard - his face paled in shock of his cousin’s murder. “By the gods, who would do such a thing?” Carter bellowed out. “Was the murderer caught?”

  “No, my Lord. Nathan’s men gave chase into the city alleyways but their bodies were found scattered throughout.”

  “Are you telling me there is no idea of who murdered my cousin?” Carter hissed, more out of a growing fear than anger as the possibility of who it might truly be. He glanced over at Sofia and was glad to see she had not noticed what was going on.

  “I am sorry, my Lord, the only person to witness the man was a barkeep at the Shady Rest tavern,” Marshal replied. “It was dark when he came upon the scene of three of Nathan’s men being butchered within his back room. He only got a moment’s glance at the murderer - all he could say is the man was covered in blood, much of it was his own. That and his face looked like it had been mutilated by fire.” He paused for a moment then continued nervously. “There are rumors afloat now about the recent killings of Markel, Tanner, Cliff and now Nathan and his men. They are saying that a devil arose from the ashes in Ever-Dale, they are calling this killer the Demon of Ever-Dale.”

  Carter leaned in close to Marshal. “I want this man found, today! Do whatever it takes, whatever it costs! I want him found and brought to me at once!”

  “Yes, my Lord - right away,” Marshal stuttered and took his leave quickly.

  Carter stood in a daze, thoughts assaulting him from every angle. Could it be true? Could Jamus still be alive and out seeking revenge on those who partook in what was done to him? Carter scoffed again at the thought. How could he?

  Jamus was nothing but a farmer; there was no way he could have survived what had been done to him, and even if he had there was no way he could have killed all those men… and Nathan. Jamus was no fighter, had no training, he was a mere peasant! But what if it were
true? What if this Demon of Ever-Dale really was Jamus?

  “My Lord… my Lord.”

  Carter’s attention came back to see one of his armed guards standing before him. “What is it, damn you?”

  “Apologies, my Lord, but the man over there is wishing to speak with you,” the guard explained. “Says he has some valuable information about something that happened last night. Something about the Ever-Dale Demon - said you’d know what that meant.”

  Carter looked over to see a dirty dockhand waiting patiently outside of the guarded perimeter set by his men. “Bring him to me at once!”

  “Greetings, my Lord, the names Scotty McRit,” the man began.

  “I do not care what your name is!” Carter hissed. “What do you know about last night? What do you know of this cur Demon of Ever-Dale!” Carter stepped in closer, his eyes boring into the man.

  “Well, my Lord, I know who off’d your man Nathan and his men. I also happen to know where the Demon of ever-Dale be staying at,” Scotty replied, his eyes gleaming with intention.

  “Then speak, damn it!” Carter commanded eagerly.

  Scotty grinned. “Well, my Lord, the information I hold be worth its weight in coin the way I see it.”

  Carter’s face contorted in bitter rage, his dagger flashing in hand, the tip burying itself under Scotty’s chin. Carter’s other hand gripped the man’s greasy hair and held him still. “You listen to me, you filthy swine! You speak what you know and you speak it now, truthful, before you hold no tongue to speak again!”

  Unforgivable

  Part Eleven

  History Repeats

  As Barbra placed the freshly moistened cloth across Jamus’ forehead he groaned involuntarily. His temperature was rising slowly and she prayed she could stop the fever before it got worse. If she could not, it would likely kill him in his condition. She quickly went back to cleaning and dressing the many wounds that riddled his gaunt body. She was surprised he was even still alive, but she knew why his soul would not leave. His hate and need to avenge his family, to save his daughter, was what forced this ruined body on.

  Earlier that morning there had been a knock on the room door - she had been hesitant to open it - but with dagger in hand she had. The innkeeper stood before her, Jamus’ bloodied, limp body within his arms. He had found Jamus on the inn’s steps early that morning and had no idea what to do so he had brought him to her. The innkeeper had assumed Jamus had been mugged and left for dead; Barbra did not convince him otherwise.

  She had done all she could for him, it was in the gods hands now. She sat by the bed and stared down at him, glad to see some color returning to his features. She reached forward and moved a long lock of hair from his face, such a calm gentle face as he slept. Not like when he was awake and burdened with the past that haunted his every waking moment. She wondered what he would do once he saved his daughter, if he saved her. She shook the thought from her head - he would save her. Then what, she wondered. Where would he go, what would he do? Would he allow her to come with them? Barbra sighed again, what was she to do once this was over if he didn’t?

  She had nothing left now - all she had was… him, and he wasn’t even hers. She smiled again at his calm features - how she envied his wife, for she had known the man he really was, the man that held that face high with pride. She hardly even noticed the extensive damage that marred him, she doubted she ever would. She could love him, would love him, if he would let her. Even if he never fully came to love her as he had his wife, she could accept that. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. There was no point to worry about any of this now, there was still much that had to be done before that question would be answered.

  “Where am I am?” Jamus groaned as he rolled over onto his side quickly, pain flashing through his every fiber.

  Barbra woke immediately from the chair she slept on. “It is okay, Jamus, you are safe at the inn now.”

  “What happened? How did I get here?” He groaned as he forced himself to sit up. “I should be dead.”

  Barbra was at his side with a cup of water and helped him to drink the cool liquid. She had gotten a little water down his throat while he was unconscious but not nearly enough. “The innkeeper found you near death at the door this morning. Truly is a miracle that you survived.”

  Flashes of the night filled his memory again and a small smile creased his lips. “I got the bastard last night.”

  “I hope he looked worse than you,” she replied with little mirth.

  Jamus chuckled, though it hurt his sides to do so. “Aye, that he does.”

  “There’s a rumor spreading through the city like wild fire about the Demon of Ever-Dale,” Barbra told him. She had been down at the bar getting herself food earlier and had heard several patrons talking about it in length.

  “Demon?” Jamus scoffed.

  “I am almost willing to believe it seeing as how only a Demon could have survived this long,” she chuckled.

  “I am no demon, Barbra,” Jamus tried to stand, but his legs just did not want to support him.

  “You need to rest and gather your strength again. I will go get you something to eat; you stay here and try not to do anything foolish. I will be back shortly,” Barbra got up and left the room.

  Jamus sighed, she was right - he would need to rest for a few days before he could even begin to think about going after Carter. He poured himself more water from the pitcher on the bedside table and noticed the well-worn dagger that shared the space. He held the cup with his injured arm, his fingers were still numb and he could barely keep the cup from slipping from his grasp. He would need his arm to work better if he were to continue.

  The door to the room burst open and two men rushed in weapons drawn. Jamus jumped to his feet, ignoring the agony that assaulted him because of it. He reached for the dagger but a thick fist connected with his jaw and sent him sprawling over the bed and to the floor on the other side. Before Jamus could regain his senses and pull himself to his feet the two men were upon him, raining fists down.

  “Now, that wasn’t so hard was it?” A familiar voice said from the doorway. “Lift him up.”

  The two brutes lifted Jamus to his feet, holding his arms fast, even though there was no way he could have resisted them.

  “Remember me, Jamus Willms?” The voice asked.

  Jamus lifted his head, his eyes blurred from the vicious attack but slowly his eyes came into focus on the man at the doorway. The deep scar across the man’s chin brought forth flashes of his son from that terrible night. Jamus’ teeth clenched as newfound strength surged through him and he lunged forward but the two men held him firmly, belittling his rage filled attempt.

  “Ah yes, now you remember who I am,” The man laughed, stepping into the room. “Thought you could just ignore death all this time and seek out vengeances at your leisure and none of us would catch on and stop you? You’ve made quite the name for yourself, oh great Demon of Ever-Dale!”

  “I am going to cut out your heart!” Jamus spat.

  The man’s laugh filled the room, “You really do need to learn your place within this world, peasant!” He stormed across the room and backhanded Jamus with enough force to loosen teeth. “Didn’t take you long to find yourself another pair of thighs to warm yourself between. Guess you didn’t care that much for that blonde little whore wife of yours,” he taunted, seeing the bitter anguish in Jamus’ eyes. “You know every now and then I can still smell her on me.” He laughed again as Jamus suddenly lurched forward once more. “Bring her in!”

  Jamus’ eyes went wide in horror as another greasy brute hauled Barbra into the room by her hair, a knife blade resting against her neck. “She has nothing to do with this, let her go!” He pleaded but he knew it was pointless - he had been here before.

  “Let her go?” he chuckled. “You should know well enough by now that isn’t going to happen. No, no, I think you need another lesson in where your place is!” He pulled his dagger from his belt and slashed
it down the side of Barbra’s face; she cried out in pain but could do little else.

  “Just kill us already!” Jamus cried in bitter defeat as his eyes locked with Barbra’s. He should never have let her come with him. The night at her house after she had left, he should have just continued on his way and left her to whatever her fate was meant to be.

  The man punched Barbra in the stomach doubling her over. He grabbed a fist full of her hair and dragged her closer to Jamus. “Look at her and know you did this to her, Jamus, just like you did it to your family!” His dagger ripped open her throat and he held her against her wild thrashing. “Look at her, Jamus, look at her as her life bleeds away second by second! You did this to her!”

  Jamus slumped down to his knees, all fight gone from him now. He watched in emotional turmoil the terror that flooded through Barbra’s eyes as she struggled for each precious moment of life before death embraced her fully and her body fell to the dirty room’s floorboards.

  Jamus looked up at the brute, hateful tears escaping resentful eyes and he knew the bastard was enjoying every moment. “One day, when fate finally ends your wretched life, I will be waiting on the other side for you and we will finish this! Now just kill me already.”

  A grin crossed the man’s twisted mouth. “Oh, you’ll have to wait for the mercy of death. Carter’s got big plans for you and your daughter.”

  Unforgivable

  Part Twelve

  Captive Honor

  “My Lord, my Lord!” A servant rushed into Carter’s study.

  Carter turned to the man, his apprehension clear on his face and in his movements. “What is it? Did they find him? Is he still alive?”

  The servant nodded. “Yes, my Lord, they have him. He is being chained below as we speak.”

  “Is it Jamus?” Carter asked, his eyes gleaming with hatred.

  “Yes, my Lord, its Jamus.”

  Carter’s smile swelled so large that his cheeks began to hurt. “Excellent! Tell them I will be down shortly.”