《Curse of the Reaper》Chapter Five

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The horrifying sight continued to unfold before the crowded tavern as the guard beat the unconscious form on the floor with enthusiasm. The blood started to flow out onto the plank floor staining it a dark red, and finally, Thomas called a halt. The Sergeant callously commanded that the battered form be drug from the room leaving a trail a smeared gore in the wake. Cariline and Faldo wept openly at what the events that just unfolded before their eyes. The big man cast the portly barkeep a questioning look as Faldo held the sobbing girl in his big arms. Phil just gave him an indifferent shrug saying it wasn’t him, but it didn’t hurt his feelings one bit either.

Faldo did not doubt that Philian would probably drink a few in celebration tonight at the demise of the one that the Inn Keep saw as public enemy number one and Phil was already trying to get the mess cleaned up as if nothing had happened. Aliesa was on her hands and knees, her tears mixing with the soap, water, and blood. For a long time, the sound of women sobbing, sloshing water, and the crackling of the fire was all that could be heard. Slowly, the conversation started to pick back up here and there in the quiet tavern, but all anyone could talk about were the events that had happened tonight. Men looked at one another, each asking the same question, was anyone safe now from the Matron’s power if her son was not.

Faldo knew he had to do something. Simple bail would not get Damon out of the Matron's grasp this time. He had few he could actually trust and fewer still that wanted to see Damon back on the street. The big man rocked Cariline back and forth trying in vain to get the young woman's hysteria to calm down. Her wailing echoed the song of his soul as he was barely keeping it from flying apart. There was one person he knew that had the Matron’s ear and that one person happened to look on Damon as a son. If anyone could help, the giant of a blacksmith Marlin could if he did not view it as interfering with Grim’s plans that is.

“Cariline shush now,” he said soothingly.

“Don’t tell me to shush Faldo. They killed him right here in front of us.” She wailed, burying her face into his broad chest. He pulled her away from his chest to look into her green eyes and spoke in slow serious tones.

“No, they didn’t, not even that bitch can get away with murder in front of the masses. He was still breathing when he left. Do you understand.--” He asked. She nodded with a sob being held back behind a tear-streaked face. “--Now, we need to think of how we are going to save him. We need to find out just how serious the Matron is on these charges, We need to know whether or not Bethel will hang him,” he said and looked at Phil, “Can I take her with me to Marlin’s?”

“Aye, She won’t be any use to me tonight son, be careful. Remember your life is worth more than his.” Phil said with a sad shake of his head. Faldo snorted with disgust as he walked to the coat rack, ripping his own thick, rich satin cloak in frustration, to drape it gently around Cariline’s shoulders. That man wouldn’t understand loyalty and friendship if it struck him between the eyes, Faldo thought.

Cariline’s eyes had grown distant, and she seemed to be wandering in a dream world as they stepped out into the cold winter’s night. Faldo had words on his lips but let them fall into silence as he glanced worriedly at his friend's fiancee. The streetlamps cast dim flickering shadows on the walls around that looked like shadow plays of the underworld as told by actors in the festivals during the summers. They walked down the street and Faldo guided the stumbling Cariline by the arm. He was afraid she had slipped into melancholy, a terrible condition his aunt had fallen into after her husband had died on Lake Dim in a storm. He had to snap her out of it.

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Faldo contemplated several different plans but none seemed good enough to deliver the shock necessary to bring back the numbed senses. There had been no snow and throwing her into the water would attract too much attention, especially on a night when he was planning possible treason. That would leave the big man one course of action. Faldo steeled himself for it, every nerve in his body screaming at him to stop.

“Damon my friend,” he whispered, “forgive me” He twirled her around and slammed her into a wall in a nearby alley. Sometimes another sudden shock can jolt someone out of melancholy or so a healer told his father when he was younger.

She hit the wall, her head snapped back to thud against the stone and she gave a little startled yelp and cried out, “Damon I need you, some ruffian has me, Damon.”

“Dammit Cariline, It is me, Faldo. Damon needs you right now, so snap out of it. We need to get some information to find out what the Matron is planning.” He looked into her green eyes as he saw them focus on him finally. She wrapped her arms around him and sobbed on his shoulder, then drew back as her auburn hair blew in the cold winter wind.

“Oh Faldo, I knew he was into trouble but is he really that bad?” She asked, another deep sob wracking her chest as she leaned against the cobblestone wall.

“Actually, I think they missed a few thefts in the past year but no matter. Damon's crimes are nothing compared to what Bethel has done." Faldo clenched his big fist at his side in anger and frustration, “That woman has committed more extortion and theft than me and Damon combined. Not to mention one or two murders, just for her convenience. I don’t hold to religion Cariline. In fact, the only thing I am religious about is not being religious. But I do believe if you preach it, you should live it. So in my book, that woman needs to answer for the most grievous crime of all.”

“And what is that?” Cariline looked at the big man confused,

“Hypocrisy”

He grabbed Cariline’s hand and headed back out into the windy streets, looking at the faces of each guard they passed. Sometimes it elicited suspicious looks from the person being inspected and sometimes amused looks were in the eyes of the men. After the first few, Cariline tapped him on the shoulder. He just slapped her hand away as he continued his search, so she spun him around.

“What?” He asked irritated as he continued to the next guard he found. Faldo let a few oaths slide of his tongue as he walked off from the sentry,

“What are you doing. These are just the people that beat poor Damon to a pulp, and now you’re inspecting their nose hairs?” She questioned him back just as irritated. Cariline was more irritated at the fact Faldo had chosen to ignore her more than she was at the point he was infatuated with the city guard. With that, she was brimming with curiosity as to why they need the Matron's own soldiers.

“I am looking for the ones on my payroll.” He said shortly as he continued on looking at the guards they encountered. She clubbed him across his back with her fist, making the big man stumble to the side in surprise and quite nearly shouted at him.

“You have part of our guard on your payroll, Ho—“ the rest was muffled by his hand as he pulled her into the nearest ally. He gave a yelp of pain and let go of her mouth and shook his hand.

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“You bit me!” He accused her with his finger waggling at her nose.

“Don’t put your hand where it doesn’t belong. Now, just how many do you pay?” She asked as she pushed his finger away.

“Around twenty and it seems the Mother Matron has pulled all of them off the streets tonight. I guess she thought they might not be so loyal to her when she was arresting the ones who were paying them three times what she does.--” This admission got him another slap and this time across the ear. “--Would you stop slapping me!” He said heatedly rubbing his stinging ear. The cold made the stinging worse.

“Oh, I am just trying to exorcise the criminal out of the good man that I know lies underneath.” She said sweetly and slapped him again.

He glared at her taking her hand warily and led her down the alley the rest of the way to Marlin’s Blacksmithy. The giant smith’s sprawling, one-story shop came into view. Even at this late of an hour, smoke billowed from one of the two chimneys that protruded from the roof. Faldo rapped on the door and called the big smith by name. A disgruntled reply came from within, and a peep-hole opened and closed. Faldo heard two bolts slide open and the big smith’s shaved head, which towered over even the big Faldo by another head, stuck out and gave a nod of acknowledgment.

“So she did go ahead with it and arrest him,” Marlin let out an emotion-filled sigh, looking crestfallen, “Well, there is no help for him now, come in so we can talk safely.”

Cariline, who had regained her color after the incident in the alley, started to shake and tremble again at the mention of Damon’s predicament. Her complexion paled once more as her composure failed again.

“Easy Cariline.” Faldo said softly as he guided her into the warm interior, “Remember the reason we are here is to fix this travesty.”

Marlin’s business was divided between two parts. The front was his smithy were the giant worked his trade by day. The back was his home and between the two was a wall that shared a common fireplace. Marlin must have been expecting them. A pot of heating water sat over the fire, and a keg sat tapped and ready in the corner.

Marlin motioned for them to sit at a plain, sturdily built table that had just three chairs and went to a sideboard to fetch three mugs and a pouch. He set one cup on the table aside, momentarily forgotten and filled the other two from the waiting cask of deep, brown frothy ale. In the third forgotten mug, the giant gingerly added a health pinch, with his big fingertips, of the mixture from inside the pouch. He moved with gracious ease, for a man of his size, to the fireplace to retrieve the steaming kettle and doused the mug, filling the room with a sweet aroma. That aroma was relaxing, easing the tension off of Faldo in slow waves. The smith pushed the mug towards the shaking Cariline with a massive paw the encompassed the mug and looked at her with gentle eyes.

“Here girl drink up,” the smith said in his rough voice, “It will make you feel better. Maybe even a bit more relaxed.” The shaky Cariline took the cup in both hands and blew on it to cool it and sipped at it slowly. Marlin turned to Faldo, leaving Cariline to sip gingerly at her tea.

“Son, you might have to carry her home.” He said in a low voice, jerking a thumb at Cariline, “That ain’t exactly all herbal. It has milk of the poppy extract in it too. She looks pretty shook up.”

Faldo smiled knowingly at Marlin, shaking his head sending his blonde hair tossing slightly. “You old devious dog. Isn’t that a little illegal? In fact, I think I know my father is just about the only one who will um, supply it here.”

“Aye,” the Smith said with a little smile, “Some laws are just plain dumb and if it’s not Grim’s law, but man’s, my conscience is clear. So, I know why you are here but what I do not know if what you need from me?”

“Marlin, we need your help,” Faldo began, “We both know this is about a mother/son squabble and nothing about the Temple or the Grim or anything remotely about the damnable law. She has sheltered him from the authorities for this long, why now? It just doesn’t make sense. I know he said he struck her but really an execution?”

“Yes Faldo,” He nodded his big balding head, “it is their fight. I love Bethel with all my heart. She came to me tonight after she saw the healer and by the Grim, she was angry. The way she talked about the boy, she had already convinced herself he was dead. This arrest is not merely a public shaming. She is after blood and she does mean to go through with it. I love the dirty little rat as I loved my dear little girl I lost.”

Faldo’s heart fell as he put his head into his hands to think. Marlin would be right about the Matron but could he be convinced to move against her. The gentle giant was known for his reverence of the Grim, almost to martyrdom several times in recent history. The giant had taken beatings for the Temple when he had defended the actions taken. He refused to raise a hand in his own defense, afraid it would set the wrong image. His thoughts were interrupted by the smacking of lips, and he looked up to see Cariline trying to lick the inside of the cup.

“I seem to have run out of tea Marlin,” she said, weaving a little side to side. Cariline's green eyes were slightly out of focus as she searched for Marlin's face. “Mind giving me a spot more, please?”

“No dearie, I think you drank my last,” he lied blatantly, covering the pouch with his massive hand.

“Oh drat, you will have to tell me where you get it from.”

“We will exchange information in the morning hun. Now, why don’t we try to figure out Damon’s mess.” Marlin suggested pointedly.

“Oh, whatever you say is fine with me. Maybe we should offer Bethel a spot of some of this delicious tea? I think it would go over well.” She said dreamily as her eyes slowly closed.

“I might have given her a little too much of a dose,” the smith looked thoughtfully at the smiling young woman who was nodding off in the chair across the table.

“Marlin when she came to you, did she say when she was holding the trial?” Faldo asked, a plan starting to form in his head.

“Why, in the morning. From what I heard Bethel was going to have done to her son, Damon wouldn’t be in any shape to be put through a trial tonight.” Marlin answered, his deep bass full of sorrow.

“He wasn't, I was there. So if we have until morning...Can we trust you or do you want us to leave you out of it. I can leave if you want me to.” Faldo said. He didn’t want to put Marlin in a compromising position. Faldo knew how much the giant cared for Bethel. They had been lovers for twelve years. The two had met two years before Bethel had lynched Rascus and murdered the old Matron Suz. It was widely speculated that Marlin was the tipping point for her into the darkness of greed. After which had begun the longest organized criminal activity in the history of the East.

“Faldo, I follow Grim’s law before anyone. Grim served justice on Rascus by turning him reaper after he murdered my little girl in front of me. I swore to be a devote follower after that. That is the first reason; Bethel is not fulfilling her role as a wife of Grim currently. She is abusing the people she is sworn to shepherd.” Marlin took in a shuttering breath as his eyes teared up as he steeled himself for the next part. “Number two is Damon is the closest thing to a child I have, and I will not stand by and see him go to the gallows after he was pardoned for the crimes for which he is now being tried for. As my son, it is my sworn duty to protect him. I will not fail another of my children.”

“What about the last charge that Bethel has leveled?” Faldo forwarded the question to the smith.

“That is a matter between mother and son, not for the Temple. No Faldo, she is wrong in this one. I will help you. If she will not claim Damon as a child than I am the only parent he has left.” Marlin said.

“Good, How many people do you know that hate, Damon?” Faldo asked with a devious smile.

Marlin’s eyes lit up and twinkled, “Oh, a whole city full why?”

Damon woke with pain lancing through his head and his ribs, the hard stones were jabbing against his naked, broken body. It felt like they had stripped him of every useful piece of clothing, leaving him in only his ragged loincloth. The young man lay still, feigning unconsciousness. Sometimes it could be helpful in gaining information.

He did a self-assessment for injury. He had shattered some molars on the right side was the gauntlet had hit him, and the eye on that side was swollen shut. Damon felt like he might have a few broken ribs but other than that surprisingly, he was in decent shape. His mother needed to send these guys to some proper thug classes to learn how to hand a proper beating. Maybe, once this is through, Damon might even offer to find some brutes for her. These “guards” were pathetic and a joke.

From what he could hear, the nearest person was the guard down the hall, so he was clear to move. He took in a deep breath against the pain he knew would stab and drew himself up. The damage wasn’t near as bad as he thought, but it still made him wince. He opened his one unimpaired eye to examine the manacles on his wrist, and he slowly shook his head. His mother was deadly serious, the cuffs on his wrist were riveted ones of the condemned that were never meant to come off, not even after death. But from the cell, he was in said he had not yet been to trial. He was still in a general cell, though all the general population had been relocated out of his cage. He was sure that was for their safety, of course. Damon shook his head in amusement, at least that meant he demanded respect.

Over across the way, the lower rank guards were playing dice for his old belongings. He groaned as he saw his expensive hunting boots adorning the feet of a private. They were probably worth more then what the soldier would make in the next year.

“Don’t worry,” Came a familiar voice from the darkness, “You won’t be needing them cousin. My aunt will make sure of that.” A figure started walking forward toward the torchlight. Slowly Thomas's stern face came into view. His dark hair cropped close to the skull as was common with the soldiers and unlike most, he kept his face clean shaved. Thomas's eyes bored hatefully into his cousin. He thoroughly enjoyed the sight of Damon in chains and bound for the gallows.

“Yes, I am sure she will,” Damon answered back, his voice cutting through the darkness between them. He made sure to speak loud enough to garner the attention of the nearby dicing soldiers. They paused for momentarily and then continued to play quieter. “I am not surprised she sent here favorite lap dog out after me. Did you make sure that my dear old mother wasn’t so lonely before you came and got me? I hear she is still quite spry but running a bit low on energy these days. Happens in old age.” Thomas came forward quickly as Damon took a couple of steps back.

“Touchy, Touchy, cousin.” Damon scolded playfully, still speaking loudly. This elicited quiet laughter from the nearby guards. “Some men just have to get it were they can, even if it is within the family.”

“It is a good thing you will hang in three days, you little bastard.--” Thomas said violently striking through the bars, “--If I could kill you now, I would. Grim knows I have wanted to after the night I found you for raping Cariline in my bed.” He turned to walk away from the cage a little, flexing his fingers with his back to Damon. Damon quietly walked forward talking all the time.

“I have been through this a dozen times cousin--” he said as he moved his loincloth to the side and aimed at the back of his cousin's boots and started to piss, “--She just said she needed a horse to ride, not a terrier.”

Thomas turned around to move forward quickly again and found himself running straight into a stream of Damon’s urine. Thomas froze with rage and Damon finished up with a malicious smile and backed up.

“I thought you could stand to see the comparison and you definitely needed the shower,” he said with a wave of his hand in front of his nose. There was raucous laughter coming from the watching guards who had stopped dicing to watch the ongoing spectacle between the cousins. Damon shot them a knowing smile and then winked at his cousin while Thomas quivered with rage. Damon knew his cousin was ever the brawler and bully and was hoping to anger him to the point Thomas would open the door.

“This won’t work you little asshole,” Thomas said visibly struggling to control himself. He gave a shrill whistle to the watching guards, “ Let’s take this little bitch before the Matron.”

With that, the soldiers who were watching got up and came to stand by the cell. Thomas grabbed the keys off his belt and unlocked the door and then said “Oh, by the way, your lovely betrothed was seen with that big lout Faldo, getting poked. I hope you don’t mind if I take my turn too.”

The last words came out with some lingering lude insinuation attached, and Damon’s face went dark and then murderous. Thomas let go of the door and stood to the side waiting. Damon rushed the door slamming it open into a guard, who fell into a crumpled heap with a groan and went to reach for Thomas. Before he could a huge private hit him over the head from behind. Damon collapsed at Thomas’s feet as the Sergeant was reaching to his side for his sword.

“Dammit Salvo,” Thomas yelled “The moment he reached for me to attack, by law, I could kill the little bastard. I have been waiting for years to do that.”

The big soldier just gave an indifferent shrug and grabbed the little prisoner around the waist and threw him over his shoulder. Thomas sighed in regret, “ Alright let’s do this.”

They formed up ranks around Salvo with Sergeant Thomas in the lead. The Sergeant had sent runners across the city, to all four corners and the outlying, as far as they could get in the twelve hours since the arrest, to let them know the notorious criminal known as Damon had finally been arrested and would be tried for his crimes at long last.

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