Unforgivable Page 9

  Life had been hard the first year after they had escaped Carter’s mansion with the aid of Carter’s manservant, Josiah. Josiah had been right, once the King had heard of his cousin’s murder he had sent men out in search of them, in search of the Demon of Ever-Dale. It had been hard for Jamus to go unnoticed through Faer-Tri Kingdom with his cruel features and several times, they narrowly escaped capture and death. A large reward of a hundred gold had been issued for anyone who knew of their whereabouts or captured them. But that was long ago now, it had been over three years since the last time someone had come looking for them.

  “What is it, father?” Sofia asked him with a raised brow. “What’s a matter?”

  Jamus’ smile was full of pride and joy. “Ah, it is nothing, just an old man reliving things better left in the past.”

  Sofia joined him at the water bucket and washed her own face and hands. “You are hardly old, and the past is best left where it is. We have come too far forward to start going back now,” She winked.

  “So, you off to check the traps this morning or would you like me to do it?”

  “I will check them,” she answered as she strung her hunting bow. “I will be longer than normal though. I saw a large stag yesterday up on the northern ridge and I am hoping he returns.” She grinned, placing the bow across her back. “If I get him I will need your help to bring him back.”

  Jamus nodded. “Be careful out there.”

  “I always am - you’ve taught me well,” she replied as she slipped behind the cabin for the trail that would lead her to the northern ridge.

  Life had been peaceful for them now, though they still practiced guarded caution at all times. They lived within the mountain borderlands between Faer-Tri and Kelda. There were only two small towns within a three days journey of their hidden valley home - one of either side of the border. Every three months they went to one to trade furs and meat for other needed supplies - it was nearing that time when they would need to make that trip again. Jamus was running lower than he would like on a certain rare item - too often now was he going without sleep for fear of the nightmares that haunted him.

  He sighed as he looked around their hidden haven and wondered if it was finally time to leave it behind, to move to one of the towns and try to start a normal life again. Sofia was getting older - this was no life for her if it didn’t need to be. She needed to be with people her own age, to build friendships and connections with more than just her father - if Sofia or the gods willed, it find love and start a family of her own. It had been three years now, they must be long forgotten or assumed forever out of reach or dead. It was something that had been playing on his mind for weeks now and something he truly believed they could finally do once more. He decided he would talk to her about it when she returned.

  Jamus sighed once more as he noticed their split woodpile near depleted. He went to retrieve the axe when a searing pain shot through his leg and he nearly toppled over. He turned to see the shaft of an arrow protruding from his left thigh. Panic coursed through him and he ran for the cabin, another arrow taking his other leg near the knee and he pitched forward, crashing into the hard earth. Jamus rolled onto his back and scanned the growth around him. A solitary figure stepped out from behind a giant pine, a new arrow already notched.

  Jamus tried to stand, but his one leg was useless now and the other screamed every time he tried to apply weight to it. “Who are you? What do you want?” He barked out, though he already knew, as four more figures revealed themselves.

  “Come now, Jamus, do not play a fool,” the archer called back. “You did not think you could hide from his Majesty forever, did you?”

  “As a matter of fact, I kind of thought I could,” Jamus replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  “Then you are a bigger fool then I thought.” The archer released a third arrow and it sunk deep into Jamus’ midsection, throwing him backwards from the sheer power of the bow.

  Jamus quickly snapped the shaft of the arrow and tried to crawl for the porch where his axe rested. He did not make it far before a hard boot found his side repeatedly until he was curled into a feeble ball upon the ground.

  “You know, when I took this bounty for the Demon of Ever-Dale, I was told you were a very dangerous man. A man not to be taken lightly and one full of surprises, who had killed ruthlessly and who had a pact with death himself and could not die.” The man grinned down at him. “I had had my hopes up that they were true, but here I am, disappointed once again. Maybe your daughter will provide more of a worthy challenge.”

  At the mention of his daughter, Jamus lurched up suddenly - his fist connecting with the man’s groin, doubling him over. Jamus grabbed a handful of the archer’s hair and pulled him down, rolling on top of him. Jamus punched down with all his strength, crushing the archer’s windpipe and relished in the surprise and terror that bulged in his eyes as death was certain now.

  “You just don’t give up, do you!” A familiar voice bellowed from the side and Jamus turned to see a meaty fist connect with his jaw.

  Jamus tried to push himself up, but both his legs were numb and useless now. The arrow within his guts had pushed further in and was sapping his strength quickly; he knew he would not make it out of this one alive. He glared up at the man who had hit him and his eyes went wide with recognition. The scared chin - it was the only one who had gotten away from Jamus’ revenge so many years ago, the man who had killed his son.

  “Did you miss me?” The man sneered down at him. “I can tell you did.” He kicked Jamus in the side again, the sound of breaking ribs clear in the morning air. “You know, you did me a favor killing him - he really was beginning to piss me off. So tell me, Jamus, how’s Sofia these days?” He grinned as Jamus tried to rise again and he pushed the arrow shaft deeper into his guts with his boot, causing Jamus to cry out. “I bet she is looking more and more like her sweet mother every day. I will enjoy that. You three tie him upright to that tree over there and tie him tightly. Then, we will have our fun with him.”

  Sofia strolled down the pathway, the cabin just coming into view. It was late morning; she had taken much longer than she had wanted too. She had caught sight of the big stag and had stalked it, trying to get a clear shot, but the king stag had finally alluded her. She would get him eventually, she promised herself.

  She rounded the side of the cabin and froze mid-step, her breath caught in her chest as panic flooded through her at the sight of the dead man upon the ground. She dropped the two fat hares she had retrieved from the traps, pulled her bow from her shoulder, and notched an arrow. Slowly, she crept forward to the front of the cabin, her bow taut and ready. She knew the body on the ground was not her father, but that did not mean others were not around. A shuffling from the porch alerted her as a solider charged, sword in hand. At forty yards, Sofia nearly ever missed, but from this distance she was an extension of death’s touch. Her arrow slipped through ribs and pierced his heart, killing him before he had cleared the porch.

  A battle cry erupted from the tree line - she turned to see another sprinting toward her, blade in hand. Quickly she notched another arrow and brought bow to bear, taking aim. Her eyes locked, not on her target, but on the limp, bloody figure bound to a tree where her enemy had come from. It was her father. Her strength failed her and the bowstring slipped from her fingertips prematurely. Her arrow sliced by the man harmlessly. Her attention returned just in time to bring her bow up to parry the soldier’s overhead attack. She took the opening and swung the bow up catching the man under the chin, staggering him back. Quickly, she reversed her momentum - the bow cracked down onto his sword hand causing him to release the weapon. A swift kick followed up his inner leg to his groin and the soldier fell to his knees in agony. Sofia wasted no time and slashed the taut string of her bow across the man’s meaty neck. She watched the fountain of blood that poured free only for a moment before remembering her father.

  “Father, father!” she cried as she reached him, cupping
his face in her hands but only lifeless dull eyes looked back at her. His body was riddled with deep, life ending wounds. “Father, you can’t leave me! Not like this, what am I to do now?” She sobbed.

  The sound of movement within their small cabin stirred her from further grieving. Her eyes narrowed and she pulled her dagger from her belt, entering the house, cold determination in each step. She kicked the thick door in and her eyes went wide with recognition of the scared man who had killed her brother and partaken in the raping of her mother years ago standing there.

  “Sofia, it’s been a long time,” He sneered. “How you look like your sweet mother now.”

  Bitter rage overwhelmed her and she charged. He swung a punch but she ducked low and came up on the inside of the attack. Her blade buried itself within his thick gut, and he cried out, throwing her over the table.

  “You little bitch! You’re going to pay for that,” he hissed, glancing down at the deep wound as he drew his own dagger.

  Sofia leaped upon the table and threw herself at him. Had he been expecting such a bold move it would have been easily avoidable - thankfully for her, he had not been, and her gamble paid off. Her blade hacked across his face as she landed and she slashed the dagger across his midsection, opening a deep enough wound that his entrails began to seep out.

  His eyes went wide and his knees weakened as he slumped to the floor in utter shock. The impact only further hurrying his innards escape, his hands franticly trying to keep them in place. “You fucking cunt.” He bellowed in utter disbelief.

  Sofia towered above him now, her breathing calm and deadly, her eyes cold and calculated. “The king sent you, didn’t he?” She already knew the answer by the emblem she had seen on the two men she had killed outside, but she needed to hear it.

  “There are more coming,” he coughed out. “Without your father to protect you, you will suffer deeply before you die, you little bitch.”

  His blood covered hand shot up and grabbed her face, his grip so firm that she almost thought he would break her jaw, but quickly his strength dwindled and his hand slipped away - cold, hateful eyes looking up at her.

  “You really are your father’s daughter.” He chuckled feebly as death neared and he fell back.

  Sofia left the cabin and stood within the small clearing now littered with bodies and gore. She could feel the warm blood of her enemy’s bloody handprint upon her face. Her eyes locked on her father’s flaccid body. He had done everything he could to avenge the family and save her… now it was her turn to avenge him.

  Unforgivable Two

  Unforgivable II

  Part One

  Sleepless Wanderer

  The night was silent and unnervingly still. Nothing stirred within the growth of trees and wild vegetation that lined sides of the road as the cloaked figure passed by. The nocturnal creatures sensed the mounting turmoil within the shadow-encrusted wanderer and their silence was their eerie respect.

  Sofia kept her eyes firmly on the road in front of her, forcing her feet to move beneath her as they dragged across the dirt and gravel. Her sleep-deprived body no longer obeyed her - she was truly thankful she was still upright and moving at all.

  It had been over three days since she had last allowed herself to know sleep. Her supply of rare herb was nearly depleted. Barely enough for one more dose remained - she refused to use it until she knew where to acquire more. Until then, she would fight the need to sleep to the bitter end - she refused to succumb to the lucid nightmares that tortured her mind when she closed her eyes.

  It had been more than three months now since that bloody morning when King Delafon’s hired mercenaries had finally discovered where they had been hiding for years. Three long months since her father had been tortured and murdered, as the criminal he had never truly been. She had returned to late to aid him, but she had extracted meager justice with their blood - it was only a fraction of the debt that needed to be compensated. Three months since she had slept without the aid of the potent dream suppressant herb, she had come to rely on so much.

  She had buried her father’s body near a small, hidden lake within the mountains, close to their small cabin. It was a calming place they often went to and let their thoughts drift with the ambiance and serenity as they fished or soaked up the last rays of the sun. She thought it fitting for him to finally know such eternal peace and hoped in the afterlife, he would be able to bring the rest of the family so they too would finally know the peace they so deserved.

  After, she had returned to the cabin in a fit of feral, uncontrolled rage. She had found a way to release that rage and had butchered the bodies of her enemies. She knew that left a clear message for any else who came to the cabin searching for her. She had been distraught and overwhelmed, one emotion dominated through the rest - hatred. She had almost thought to try and move on - to accept what had happened and make a new life. She had laughed at the very notion - there would be no doing that, not until revenge was slick upon her blades. She was her father’s daughter after all.

  Sofia opened her tattered crimson cloak, allowing the cool night air to caress her skin in hopes it would help keep her alert. She had been astonished to find the memorable cloak within her father’s things before she had abandoned the cabin. She had always assumed he had rid himself of everything from that dark time, but she was glad he hadn’t. She knew it was just an old, threadbare piece of material, but it brought an unknown comfort to her, almost as if her father’s strength remained within its fibers. It had been within the folds of the cloak that she had found the tightly wrapped leather pouch of the yellowish herb. Her father had often added something to his taze late at night. She saw him do so on more than one occasion, yet it had never occurred to her what it had been or to question it.

  On that first night after her father had been killed, she had tried to sleep, but lucid nightmares of the past and present had lashed through her mind with such force that she woke, screaming hysterically. Memories she had hoped were long since removed teased in her consciousness. After three nights without sleep she had decided to add a little of the hidden herb to her own taze, not truly knowing what it would do, if anything. She had woken late the next day, within the wooden rocking chair by the hearth, which had long burned out. She had no recollection of when she had fallen asleep - all she knew was it had been peaceful and her mind free of impeding thoughts. She had always wondered how her father had dealt with the nightmares that had plagued him so frequently. Now the only time she would allow herself to sleep was when she took the herb - she could not stand the nightmares that haunted her when she did not.

  The warm glow of a camp fire in the distance pulled her from her bottomless, recurring thoughts. Anxiety rippled through her at the thought of who they might be - a fear born of half a lifetime on the run. Her first thought was to melt into the dense woods and go around them, but even she knew in her present state, that she would be hopeless.

  She pulled her cloak tighter around her as she neared the small camp at the side of the road, her fingers fidgeting with the elk bone hilts of her twin daggers. She could only see two men sitting around the fire talking in low tones as she came into their view.

  “Hey who is there?” The larger of the two called out - both men got to their feet to get a better look at the lone figured that approached. They were both in a defensive stance, hands hovering over their swords.

  Sofia kept her head low and ignored them, silently praying they would just let her walk by. She had had very little contact with others over the years and had no desire to do so now.

  “Hey you!” The big man called again. “I’m talking to you. What are you doing out here this late?” Both men were slowly moving onto the road to intercept her and she was forced to stop several feet from them.

  “It’s dangerous to be travelling this late at night you know,” the other man said with a rotten, toothy grin, “especially a female all alone. A lot of bad people out here that might think to kill and loot a lone tra
veler, right Hank?”

  Hank chuckled callously. “Ya Rick you’re right…maybe even worse.” His hand rested casually upon the hilt of his sword. “So how about you come over by the fire and stay the rest of the night, safety in numbers and all. We will be really good company to a pretty little thing like you - might even share some of our hard earned ale with you.”

  Sofia’s heart was pounding - her breathing quickened as she felt the dark apprehension growing in the air. She glanced over to the wagon and caught sight of a pair of female legs dangling, bruised and lifeless from the back. Below those legs, the ground was stained with blood and a motionless hand showed from behind the wagon’s wheel - a man and his wife or perhaps a father and his daughter. Her insides twisted with rage at the very thought of what these highwaymen had done to these poor people.

  “What do you say sweetie?” Rick said stepping over to her side resting his hand on her shoulder, “how about you come over near the fire and make this nice and easy for us.”

  Sofia’s mind flashed back to a night so long ago when she had been a girl and a similar fiend had placed his hand upon her shoulder with comparable intent. A wicked grin crossed her lips. She had been but a girl back then, new to the use of the blades that had been given to her. That ignorance felt like a lifetime ago.

  Her hand snapped out from beneath her cloak, her blade burying itself into the soft flesh of Rick’s underarm. The blade slipped between ribs and the gurgled, blood filled gasp that escaped his lips a moment after ensured her she had punctured his lungs. She twisted and pulled her blade free, Rick’s hand slipped from her shoulder as he slumped to his knees, fighting through blood filled gulps of precious air for his last moments of this earth.