Chapter 15: Married Life - Fire and the Blood

“What are…you’re not one of the servants.”

Vaughan dodged back. The sword strike slashed across his stomach, splitting his gold and red velvet doublet. Not deep enough to kill the lordling, though he had no armor to protect him. Raviathan didn’t remember striking. His arms, his body, moved of its own accord. Vaughan reached for his knife as blood seeped out from between his fingers. “You bloody knife ear! I’ll have you flayed!”

Vaughan caught his second strike with his dagger, the impact jarring Raviathan’s arm. Raviathan angled his sword to push Vaughan’s arm wide then stepped in with his knife. He watched Vaughan’s face as the knife went in to the hilt. The shock as the knife penetrated. His small, blue eyes changing when he realized he was going to die. Raviathan stabbed with his knife again, angling up under the ribcage. He felt the warmth of Vaughan’s life blood spill onto his hand. Raviathan growled, “Never again.”

The other two moved behind him. Raviathan caught them out of the corner of his eye. He kicked Vaughan back and turned to face them. One reached for his sword. The other was struggling, his pants about his ankles. White smallclothes lay in tatters on the floor. Shianni. Her long, pale legs. A tiny splatter of blood on one thigh. The thin line of his seed that trailed like a spider strand between their bodies before snapping.

No mercy. No forgiveness. He wanted blood. Raviathan slipped through space, movement without thought. Blood splattered his face when he took off the shem’s head. Hot drops, the last of the shem’s life. The other was making noise. Babbling. His hands were up before him, as if that would stop what was coming. He went down to his knees, his pants still unlaced and pooled below him. Raviathan’s sword swipe took off the tops of the shem’s fingers and split his throat.

Three bodies. It wasn’t enough. Raviathan wanted to kill them again. He stood there with three lords at his feet. Not enough. His bloodied weapons dripped at his sides. Never enough. Rage boiled in him, writhing like a living thing. He wanted to burn the world. The heart inside him howled, beating too fast. Hot blood and fire, and he would feed his wrath as the world burned before him.

Shianni backing to the wall snapped him out of his thoughts. She whimpered, ashen, hurt. She scrabbled to get her dress down. Shaking, clumsy from pain, she huddled there staring at the bodies. His weapons dropped, thudding dully on the carpet. The beginnings of a bruise marked half her face. More bruises on her arms, wrists, and neck. Her gasp brought him short. “Shianni?” Raviathan knelt so that he was eye level with her. “Shianni?”

She stared at the bodies, the blood. When Raviathan moved forward, she flinched back. “Cousin, it’s me. Cousin?”

Her eyes were on him then, but she didn’t seem to see.

“Cousin?” Raviathan reached forward.

“Don’t!” Raviathan froze. Her eyes stared through him. “Stay away!”

The words were like a knife. “Cousin? Don’t you recognize me? It’s Rav.”

A tear slipped out, falling quickly to her dress. “Please,” she whispered. “Stay away. I don’t want anyone to touch me.”

Raviathan sat back on his heels. What to do? What could he do? Helpless. Too late. His mother, his aunt, Nola, Shianni. He had always been too late.

They weren’t out of danger yet. There were other guards. “Shianni, I’m going to send Ness and Valora to look after you. I still need to take care of a few things.” Oh, cousin. I’m sorry. Maker forgive me.

Raviathan took Vaughan’s dagger and the sword from the dead lord along with the weapons he had dropped. What either lord’s name was, Raviathan didn’t know. He knocked on the door where the rest of the women waited, told Valora and Nesiara that Shianni was in the other room, that she was afraid.

“Valora,” Nesiara said, “stay here. Watch the others. I’ll get her.”

“Ness,” Raviathan whispered so the others couldn’t hear. “The three lords are dead. So are the guards outside the corridor.”

“I knew from the blood,” she whispered back. “But thanks for warning me. I’ll take care of her, my love.”

Raviathan handed her the keys. “Lock yourselves in. Soris or I will come for you.”

She nodded. “Maker watch over you.”

“Maker watch over us all.”

Nola’s body was still burning in the chamber. Where was Miram? Raviathan looked down at the guard, his cock still out. Such a pathetic thing to do so much damage. On impulse, Raviathan cut it off. Watched the blood sputter out. The little piece of flesh laying there. The dead have no dignity.

Shouts from ahead. Raviathan’s head snapped up. Grabbing a bow and quiver from a dead guard, he ran to the corridor that separated the two upper wings. A well dressed man stood at the top of the stair, a hand over his mouth. Another lord? He was easily in his fifth decade. “Is he alive?”

A voice from below. “Can’t tell. What happened?”

“He was on the stair and slipped.”

Raviathan crept up until he was behind the shem. Grey hair. Fine clothes strained at his round belly. A high level servant. Steward or chamberlain? Raviathan sent a vicious kick in the small of his back. The shem let out a surprised yelp, his arms going out protectively in front of him, and down the stairs he fell. He slipped and crunched, his blood mixing with the oil.

Not waiting, Raviathan sent and arrow down into the guard’s face. Another well dressed servant, presumably the one who had slipped, lay unmoving at the bottom of the stair.

“To arms! To arms!”

Raviathan sent another arrow at the remaining guard. The guard tried to duck behind his sword. The arrow hit him in the shoulder. The guard’s armor kept it from going deep. Damn. Raviathan released another arrow. The guard had his shield up covering his torso, but that’s not where Raviathan had aimed. The guard cried out as a second arrow vibrated, embedded well into his thigh.

“To arms!”

Blast him! Another arrow twanged and found its target. Raviathan cursed. Unless he was lucky enough to hit an artery, he was wasting his arrows.

Barking dogs. A chill went down Raviathan’s spine at the sound, a primitive fear that sidestepped reason. The hounds brayed, the owner yelling, “Where?”

“Up on the second floor. He’s got a bow.”

“Not for much longer, he doesn’t. Hounds, attack!”

Raviathan saw them. Giant, brawny dogs that were all rippling muscle. They skittered, their claws scrabbling for purchase on the stone. Their shoulders were massive, all bunching power ready to release. The hounds growled and snapped, their eyes focused only on him.

Maker, please! Raviathan grabbed the torch from the sconce on the wall hoping beyond hope that the dogs would be afraid of fire. So fast. The first one bounded twice, almost up the stairway. Its claws skittered, and it slipped in the oil. Raviathan threw the torch at it, reflexes from fear. The other two raced up when the oil caught. The hounds squealed in pain, oil coating their fur. Raviathan could smell them burning.

“My dogs!”

The animals were crazed with fear. One hit the banister, the now oil coated wood seizing the fire. Another dog jumped to the floor below, clumsy in confusion and pain. The third tried jumping blindly in the other direction. The tapestry on the wall started to burn, small licks of flame hovering at the base.

The guard with three arrows sticking out of him had lowered his shield in shock at the scene. Raviathan took the chance to aim. The guard crumpled from the killing blow.

“Copper!” The hound master tried to go to the burning animal. The dog tore off down the hall deeper into the estate, his fur still on fire. Raviathan let loose an arrow into the unprotected hound master. It took a second arrow to kill the man. The kennel master had been that dog’s only hope. Sorry, dog. Raviathan didn’t have many arrows left, but he used them on the two animals. If I can find you, dog, I’ll end it quickly.

A guard who ran headlong to the stairs slipped on the oil. He cried out as fire heated his armor. Other guards gathered at the base. One tried to smother the fire off the guard, but the tapestry he used caught as well. “Fire! Get a water brigade!”

The tapestry down the hall moved. Raviathan turned, his arrow notched. Guards came, one after another through the hidden servants’ passage. More guards pooled below.

Raviathan sent an arrow into the first two guards. So many. Too many. They kept pouring out like water from a broken damn. A torrent of them. Armed, armored, and trained. He didn’t have the advantage of surprise anymore. He pulled his sword and dagger, retreating to the door to the solar. At least they wouldn’t flank him, but his end was only a matter of time.

The guards were yelling. “An elf! The elves came after all!”

“Water! Hurry, before it catches the roof timbers!”

“To arms!”

The first guard was there, sword out and swinging for him. Raviathan ducked, his own sword piercing from below. The armor slowed his blade before it could do any major damage. The guard grunted and readied his sword for another attack, his shield now before him. The guard’s first attack had been clumsy, limited as he was by the narrowness of the doorway. He was ready now with a clear path. Sword high, the guard’s arm started to shake. Shock registered in his face a second before blood poured out of his mouth.

The poison. Raviathan felt his features twist, but into a smile or snarl, he wasn’t sure. He kicked at the guard’s exposed knee then slashed at the shem’s throat. Blood flowed out like water. Raviathan kicked him back into his fellows on the other side of the door.

“You’re all dead!” Raviathan yelled at them. If they didn’t die today, they would be dead within days as the poison broke down their bodies. Bruises wouldn’t heal, cuts would continue to bleed. In time, their vessels and veins would leak, the fluid unstopped. They would bleed internally, slowly drowning in the flood of their own blood. Or he would make them bleed externally. Vaughan and those bastard lords were dead. A good portion of the guards would be. If nothing else, Raviathan knew he had taken a stand.

Raviathan lashed out, confidence clearing away uncertainty. Enough bruises, a few cuts, and the guards were clumsy from the poison. He still had a chance. Ness was depending on him. His wife and kin, his friends from childhood. He raised his dagger to parry a blow, his sword diving forward. He thrust with his sword again knowing he didn’t have to land a killing blow anymore in order to kill. The guard doubled over, dark blood trickling from his mouth. “You’re all dead!”

Calls for water carried up from main gate. Smoke hung in a haze. Wood popped. The light from the corridor brightened when the gates opened. Those idiots, Raviathan thought with satisfaction. The fire roared with new life as air whooshed in to feed it. What had been alarm calls for order became frenzied.

The guard who came up to replace the two dead was pale. The poison, the alcohol, a crazed elf, and now a fire. Their morale was shaken. Raviathan lunged, stabbing the guard in the midsection. Good. The shem before him was blonde, the color of weak piss. He was young, barely in his manhood. He was terrified. When Raviathan brought his blade down for the killing blow, the shem didn’t even defend against it. The blade cut down, deep into the exposed soft tissues of the guard’s neck. Blood leaked out like wine.

Another guard came and died. And another. Raviathan bared his teeth, the fire roaring in the corridor. And another fell. Another. Burn the world. Their blood spread out like a red carpet over stone. When no more took the place of the fallen, Raviathan looked back into the corridor. The wooden banister was ablaze like a wall of flame. The tapestry carried the fire to the rafters. No guards in sight, only yells from below. Afraid the flames would block them in, the guards had all retreated.

Soris! Would he be safe? He had no way to defend himself. The only weapon at his disposal was a butcher’s knife and a bow he’d had next to no practice with. Even if he ran out the servant’s entrance, the guards would follow or go through the main gate. Oh, Soris. I’m sorry. Damn it. Too late. Soris, I hope you ran when you had the chance. If I had planned better…

Raviathan raced back. The door to Vaughan’s room was open, but only the dead remained. Wrath rekindled at the sight of the bodies. How many years had these shems been haunting his people? If not for this day, these men would have continued their crimes for decades. They didn’t even have to hide rape or murder. They could violate his people at any time with full support of the city’s guards. The walls that had been the elves’ safety, walls that loomed over their lives, were nothing. Fragile illusions. He had seen a purge. Had seen his mother die. How had he not seen the world for what it was before? As long as there were shems, his people would never be safe.

Bitterness filled Raviathan like acid. The threat of these lords, these nobles, lurked behind every shem. Some had more power than others, but they were all the same. Raviathan wasn’t a person. Not Shianni, not Nola. No elf was. Just subhumans to them, little better than animals to be petted or beaten at a lord’s whim. Burn the world. Fire overwhelmed his mind. Bright orange flame danced, swirled like a tornado inside him, cleaning him out. Without conscious thought, Raviathan emasculated their bodies. He shoved the soft bits of flesh into their mouths. Take from us no more.

Glancing back to make sure no guards had followed, Raviathan took a few minutes to plunder what he could from the rooms. Purses, weapons, their jewelry and finery, anything small of value.

“Ness!” He knocked on the door. “We have to go. The building is on fire.”

“Fire!” a voice squeaked. The lock clicked a second before the door flew open.

“We have time to escape. It’s a good distraction, but we must hurry.” He looked beyond Valora to see Nesiara help Shianni up. The sight of his cousin pained him as if a giant was squeezing his chest. How much damage had been done? No time. “Don’t be afraid of the fire. Stay close to the wall and follow me.”

Gasps at the guards’ bodies in the solar. More at the pile in the corridor just beyond. Shianni wailed, “So much blood.”

“Everyone, we’re going for the servants’ passage. Stay low and next to the wall. Understand?”

Most nodded. Shianni didn’t look at anything. Nesiara was focused on the fire, the bright orange flames reflected in her face.

“Ness?”

She turned to him, nodding once, calm.

The guards were still shouting orders as they tried to get the fire under control. Led by Raviathan, the elves made their way to the servants’ door hidden behind a tapestry. The passage was dark, near black after the daylight and flames, cool without the haze of choking smoke. Raviathan felt along the narrow passage with one arm outstretched and another trailing along a wall. When they came to a fork, Raviathan took the right to lead them back to the kitchens. He might have to fight more, but that was the one way he knew out other than the guard heavy main doors. A light from below illuminated that path. A sign from the Maker?

Raviathan hurried down the tight corkscrew stairs eager to be gone. Maybe this exited into the dining hall. Raviathan was sure he could deal with a few poisoned guards. Get out, make a break for the estate exit.

Wait. The corridor… went left? “Who in the Maker’s name designed this place?” Raviathan muttered.

“There! An elf!”

Maker’s puss spewing ass! “All of you, get back. Go the other way. Wait for me at the top.” Raviathan pulled two daggers. Their smaller size would be useful in the narrow passage instead of the long sword. “If you hear anyone coming from the other direction, go back into…” One of the women shrieked as a guard came barreling up. “Go!”

Raviathan got his daggers up in time. He formed a cross to catch the guard’s sword, grunting at the effort to stop the sword. In that second, Raviathan got a good look at the guard. He was flushed, but not from poison. The barracks were on the left of the estate. Healthy guards. Raviathan’s heart sank. With Vaughan dead, there was no reason to keep the women alive. But the guards didn’t know Vaughan was dead. Even if they had, the guards would probably execute any elves just for vengeance.

The guard’s sword thrust forward. Raviathan slammed into the wall to dodge in the narrow confines. Braced against the wall, he kicked out hoping to connect with the guard’s knee. The guard dodged in time, sacrificing his balance to do so. Raviathan took the opportunity to strike out. He got a glancing blow, but nothing serious. The guard rushed him, using his size to overwhelm his smaller opponent. Raviathan feigned to one side then slipped past the guard’s flank. Gotcha. He thrust his dagger up into the exposed area under the guard’s arm.

The shem bellowed. He whirled about, but Raviathan kept pace at the shem’s back, narrowly ducking the shem’s elbow strike. Raviathan struck hard at the shem’s kidney. The armor slowed his blade, but Vaughan’s silverite dagger was superior to the guard’s steel armor. The blade dove in, driving the shem to his knees. One final thrust, then Raviathan slid his second dagger across the shem’s soft neck.

Raviathan pulled the dagger out, tired but grateful that he still stood. Two more guards entered the corridor. The mass of their bodies taking up space like a wall. Maker, do you hate elves? Raviathan grabbed the dead guard’s crossbow. At least it was impossible to miss the oncoming shems. The first got his shield up, but the bolt slammed into the shoulder of the second shem. Raviathan dropped the crossbow, grabbed his daggers, and closed the distance until they were only five paces apart. The guards would keep coming from this direction making the women vulnerable from an attack from behind. If he could get to the servants’ entrance on this side, maybe he could find some way to secure the door.

Miram. She was still here, somewhere. Was she still alive? With the other women, waiting and defenseless, he couldn’t justify going after her. Leave her, and her death would haunt him for the rest of his life. Try and find her, he put the others in further jeopardy.

The second guard, a shem with a dark goatee, had a two handed sword strapped to his back. The weapon was useless in the corridor. The real challenge was the sword and shield shem. The man looked to be in his forties, aged for a guard. Age would make him slower, but he was also experienced.

“Our lord,” the older guard said. “Does he live?”

“No.”

The guard’s lips thinned. “That was a mistake, knife ears.”

“So was kidnapping my wife.” Raviathan felt like spitting in the shem’s face, but he dared not get that close. Yet. “So was raping my kin.”

The goateed guard had his hand on the bolt embedded in his shoulder, wincing as he tried to pull it out. “You’ve no hope, cock rider. When we’re done with you, we’ll be taking every pretty whore in that alienage and chaining them in the dungeons. You’ll never see the light of day again. You’ll have a river of cum flowin’ out your ass.”

Why bother telling him? Were they stalling? Why deliberately provoke him? Raviathan took two steps back. He saw the frustration on the guards’ faces. A trap? Had to be. But surely they knew how to disarm it. The other guard hadn’t been caught. Raviathan backpedaled. If they weren’t willing to approach, he could get the crossbow and simply fire at them from a safe distance.

“Maker spit on you!” The goateed guard slammed his fist into the side of the corridor, hitting a release button. After a mechanized click sounded, the two charged. The young guard surged forward, pushing the older shem out of the way.

Impetuous idiot. He thought size was everything in fighting, even with a bolt in his shoulder and his main weapon useless. Raviathan dodged back as the shem’s knife slashed at him. He dodged again, putting more distance between them and the older guard. At the guard’s third attack, Raviathan sidestepped. Using the guard’s strike momentum, Raviathan pushed the unbalanced shem’s arm high to expose the vulnerable underarm not covered by armor. With a quick and wicked slash, Raviathan cut the man’s arm to the bone. The shem’s scream ended in a bloody gurgle as Raviathan finished him off.

The other guard had been watching him. The stared at each other, and Raviathan realized the guard had been watching him to learn his technique. This guard wasn’t a dumb, green recruit. The brutality of such a tactic, to watch his compatriot die, just so he could learn, chilled Raviathan. Weren’t there any shems with feeling? Wolves in human skin. The shem feigned a strike. Raviathan skittered backwards.

“So. You’re afraid. Not so dumb, are you.”

No point in talking. Raviathan feigned in high with his daggers hoping the shem would defend and leave his legs unprotected for a kick. The guard raised his shield as Raviathan expected. A movement at the last second was his only warning. He jumped back, the shem’s sword grazing his leg. Raviathan’s breath caught at the stinging pain in his leg. It wasn’t deep, he knew, but he’d never been injured in combat before.

This man was better than he was. Had more experience. Wasn’t poisoned. What to do? Retreat up the stairs? The shem could easily pick up the crossbow and finish him off. Force him back to trigger the trap? Not with this shem. There were no witnesses here. He could… no. Last resort only. This man had more experience, but Raviathan was sure he was faster. If only he understood sword and shield tactics better.