Rampage Page 2

  “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

  Arbor saw her look up then and could see her eyes beginning to water. “Don’t cry now. Your eyes will get all puffy, and everyone will see,” he said, getting down on one knee and pulling a kerchief from his pocket to dab at her eyes. “I’m not leaving forever. I’ll still be around,” he said, trying to be reassuring.

  She sniffed a few more times before composing herself. “You promise?”

  “Yes, I promise. Now run along, I think I hear Mother calling your name.” He handed her the handkerchief and watched her dab at her eyes a few more times before tucking it away.

  She smiled then and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “Thanks, Arbor. You always know exactly what to say.”

  She straightened the front of her dress one more time before heading towards their mother. His father approached him then, holding his wedding coat, a long blue jacket with silver trim and shining bronze buttons.

  “She’s been having a hard time adjusting to the fact that you’ll no longer be living at home. You are her only brother, after all,” he said, holding the coat open for him.

  “I know, but we all have to grow up and leave sometime, and one day soon, it’ll be her turn to go,” Arbor said, turning his back to his father and allowing him to slide the coat on over his shoulders.

  “Just give her some time. She may try to hold on a bit tighter for a little while,” Darver said, as his son turned around. “And show a little extra compassion, hmm?” he said, smoothing the front of his coat.

  “I’ll do my best,” Arbor replied, though inwardly, he thought that it was he who would need to adjust.

  Moving away from home was a lot more difficult than he was letting on, and if he were being honest with himself, it scared him more than he wanted to admit.

  “That’s all a person can ask for,” his father said, snapping him from his thoughts.

  He then reached out, putting a hand on his shoulder. He paused for a moment, as if trying to gather his thoughts.

  “You know you’ve made me prouder than any man has a right to be, and you’ve found yourself a fine woman.”

  Arbor was slightly taken aback by the sudden show of emotion from his usually stoic father, and it made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

  “Here, I’d like you to have this,” Darver continued, pulling a pendant from his coat pocket.

  Arbor took the pendant in his hands and stared at it in wonder. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It was slightly larger than his palm, and it was a deep, almost blood-red in color. Light sparkled off five small stones around the edges and an oak tree was etched into the surface. He turned it over and a lion’s head roared back at him, almost seeming to be alive. The detail was unreal, and he knew right away that this was an extremely valuable gift.

  “What is this?” Arbor asked, entranced by the beauty of the thing.

  “It has been in our family for generations,” his father said. “My father told me that this once belonged to a great king and that it was gifted to one of our ancestors thousands of years ago for a great personal deed. My father entrusted me with it on my wedding day. Now, I give it to you, my son.”

  Arbor looked into his father’s eyes then and saw pride. He felt emotion try to claim him but quickly tamped it down. It wouldn’t do for the groom to cry on his wedding night.

  “Thank you for entrusting me with such a wonderful gift. I will treasure it always.” He then slid the pendant over his neck and tucked it under his shirt.

  “Now come. The ceremony will be starting soon, and Florren will be here at any moment,” Darver said, taking him by the arm and steering him towards the house.

  Arbor heard a wagon pull up a few minutes later as he sat inside the house. He could hear all the people outside begin to sing the song of greeting, and he knew Florren had arrived.

  His mother came in then, and Arbor stood up. He embraced her and she wept silently into his shoulder. She stood back after a minute, tears in her eyes as she held his face in her hands.

  “I can’t believe that this day is finally here!” she sobbed. “You have no idea how proud you have made me, and a mother could not have asked for a more wonderful and caring son.”

  Arbor felt his eyes start to water then. He bit his lip, and with a monumental effort, he forced himself not to cry. His mother let go of his face, and he could hear the song of the bride as she walked down the aisle.

  They sat in silence, waiting for the song to end, and when it did, both his mother and father picked up the two burning candles sitting on the table before them.

  “Are you ready for this?” his father asked, holding his candle aloft.

  Arbor squared his shoulders. He could feel his heart racing in nervous anticipation.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  They each took one of his arms, and together, they walked out of the house. The first thing he saw upon exiting were all the people seated on either side of the aisle. All eyes were on him as they began to sing the song of the groom.

  He approached the aisle with his parents escorting him on either side. Looking around at all the familiar faces, all singing for him, he once again had a hard time controlling his emotions. He could see Karria near the front, dabbing at her eyes with the kerchief he’d given her earlier. Then he looked up to the approaching platform, and there she was.

  Florren was dressed in a long, flowing white gown, a bouquet of white lilies clutched between her hands. She was standing at the very center of the stage. He couldn’t see her face as it was veiled, but he could just imagine her under it; her large dark eyes and full lips, her bright smile, and long dark hair. The entire thing felt surreal to him, as if this was all just a dream.

  He could see Florren’s aunt and uncle standing behind her, also smiling brightly as he approached. Florren had no parents of her own. They had died when she was very young, so her aunt and uncle had taken her in.

  Arbor remembered their first meeting like it had only happened yesterday.

  She’d moved to Woods’ Clearing just four months ago with her aunt and uncle. He had been in town that day, doing some repair work on the blacksmith’s shop roof, when he’d seen her ride in for the first time.

  He remembered staring at her, his eyes drawn as though by a magnet, to her curvaceous figure. Until she’d looked at him. He’d flushed a deep red when she did, realizing that he’d been caught staring. Instead of looking away or yelling at him, though, she’d just smiled and winked, then blown him a kiss. Her actions had shocked him so much that he’d almost fallen off the roof.

  She’d laughed then, covering her mouth with a delicate hand as she rode away. It was that laugh that had made him fall in love with her. With that laugh and her brazen attitude, he resolved himself to make her laugh like that again.

  All these memories and more came to him as he approached the platform. He had eyes only for her. He could imagine their life together, and all the wonderful years they had ahead of them.

  Life was never so kind, however, and Arbor was about to receive one of life’s harshest lessons.

  With no warning at all, the trees around the clearing exploded with sounds of galloping horses and screaming men. The guests stopped singing immediately and stood from their seats, some gasping in surprise and others with feelings of dread, as the horsemen moved to circle them, cutting off any path of escape.

  4

  Arbor could hardly believe his eyes.

  What the hell are armed men doing here?

  Whatever the reason, he knew it was nothing good. He felt his mother's grip tighten on his arm as three men detached themselves from the front of the force and rode forward.

  The man in the middle dismounted, swaggering forward with an authoritative air, while the other two stayed on horseback.

  “My name is Ramson,” he said, eyes sweeping over the gathered guests.

  He was tall, a little over six feet, with dark hair and a hooked nose. His eyes were wha
t caught Arbor’s attention. They were black as night, and the flickering torchlight seemed to make them glimmer with malevolence.

  This is not a man to cross, Arbor thought, taking an involuntary step back.

  He wore a curved sickle sword at his waist, balanced on the other side by a heavy bladed dagger. The rest of his body was covered in heavy leather armor interwoven with black-painted metal plates.

  “Don’t mind me,” he said with a smile. “I seem to be interrupting an important moment here, so I’ll be quick. Would you be so kind as to tell me who among you is Darver?”

  A tone of hushed whispers went through the gathered guests at that, though none spoke up. Ramson’s lips turned down at that, and he took another step forward.

  “You see, he has something of mine,” he continued, “And I’d very much like to have it back.”

  When he still failed to get an answer, he started to become annoyed, but he quickly schooled himself and allowed his easy smile back on his face.

  “Oh, come now, this shouldn’t be hard. I just want to have a little…chat with him,” he said, his lips twisting into a cruel smile. “No takers? Someone must know who Darver is.”

  “What is he talking about?” Arbor asked under his breath. “What did you take from him?”

  “I don’t know,” his father answered.

  He looked pale and shaken, and Arbor felt the hand he had wrapped around his elbow quivering.

  “I’ve never seen this man before, but if I had to guess…” he paused here and gave Arbor a grim look. “I’d say he’s after that pendant you’ve got hidden under your shirt.”

  “Should I just give it him then? Maybe he’ll leave if he has what he wants.”

  “No!”

  Arbor was shocked at his father’s vehemence. “No matter what happens, do not give him that pendant! Do you understand?”

  “This man looks very dangerous. Are you sure you want me to keep it from him?”

  Arbor was doubtful that his father was thinking too clearly. After all, it was a family heirloom, so it would be hard for him to give up. But when he nodded once again, Arbor agreed to stay silent. As soon as he gave his confirmation, he felt his father’s grip relax.

  Ramson had been moving forward while they were talking, swaggering down the aisle and staring down the various gathered guests. He singled one of them out, placing a hand on her shoulder.

  “Tell me, Miss, would you happen to know who Darver is?” he asked in a pleasant voice. The woman just shook her head, quivering in terror.

  “What a shame,” he said, letting go and turning around as if to leave.

  The woman seemed to relax a bit, letting out a shaky breath.

  Ramson spun then, pulling his sickle sword from his belt and decapitating the woman with a single, well-placed blow.

  Several people screamed, and a couple even fainted, lumping to the ground in undignified heaps. The rest stared in horror and disbelief as the corpse fell to the ground with two distinct thuds.

  “I can see that no one is willing to help,” he said, still using the same conversational tone as he had been before, seeming completely unfazed by the body now lying at his feet.

  He whipped his sword through the air, sending droplets of blood spraying the ground. He turned to one of the bandits still on horseback, a small, greasy-looking man with a smashed nose.

  “Smit, kill them all. Maybe take a few of the prettier ones. I bet we can get a fair bit for them in Fivora.”

  Then, turning to the podium where Florren stood, he smiled cruelly then bowed at the waist, pointing at her with his sword.

  “Oh. And kill that one first. It is her wedding night, after all, and we wouldn’t want to be rude.”

  Arbor whirled in place, seeing that Florren had uncovered her face and was standing huddled between her aunt and uncle. He watched in horror as the realization of what was about to happen hit her. Tearing himself free of his parents’ arms, he ran for the podium. It was as though he were running through quicksand, the stage seeming to be miles away.

  The world seemed to freeze in that moment, and she met his gaze as the loud thwack of over a dozen crossbows sounded through the clearing. A sad smile touched her lips, and she mouthed something at him. He couldn’t make it out as half a dozen bolts seemed to sprout from her at once, slamming into her slim frame one after the next. She staggered back, her white gown already beginning to turn red as she fell.

  A scream tore itself from his throat as he launched himself onto the stage, shoving her aunt and uncle out of the way. He bent down next to Florren and lifted her in his arms, but he could see that it was too late. Her body had gone limp and cold, glassy eyes stared back at him, and she had a trickle of blood running from the corner of her mouth.

  He felt tears streaming down his face as he hugged her limp body. He screamed, burying his face in her bloody chest, and rocked back and forth with her. He dimly heard people in the background, but all he could do was hold Florren and cry.

  Someone was tugging on his shoulder, shouting urgently, but he ignored them. The hand then went limp and slid down his back.

  This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be dead.

  This must all be a horrible dream. It has to be!

  He heard a scream then, and it finally pierced through his grief-stricken mind. Ramson was standing in the center of the aisle, holding his mother by the hair, his sword at her throat. His father was on his knees in front of him, his hands clasped in supplication.

  His leg bumped against something soft and Arbor felt something soaking into his pant leg. Turning his head to the side, he saw Florren’s uncle lying next to him, crossbow quarrels sticking out of the man, and he finally understood why his pant leg was wet.

  It was slowly soaking up the pool of blood spreading from the man’s body. He let go of Florren’s body, his heart beginning to race, and bile rising in his throat.

  Florren was gone.

  His future in-laws were gone.

  He couldn’t lose his parents as well!

  “Let her go!” Arbor yelled, staggering to his feet and running towards them.

  “Stop him,” Ramson said calmly, and Arbor stumbled as a hard blow connected with the side of his face.

  His vision swam, and he tasted blood. His arms were roughly seized by two of the men, and he was dragged before Ramson.

  “So, which one of you is Darver?” he asked again, holding Karrin by her hair. “One of these lovely people were nice enough to point you out. Unfortunately, there were two of you in the direction he was pointing, and he tragically died before he could clarify which one of you he meant.”

  His lips turned down as the screams around him rose in pitch and volume – clearly, the bandits were having their way with some of the guests before killing them. After only a moment, they fell ominously silent.

  “Finally. I can’t abide people who take forever to die,” Ramson continued, turning his attention back to them. “Now I’ll only ask once.” He jerked violently at Karrin’s hair and pressed the sword to her throat, hard enough to draw blood. “Which one of you is it?”

  Seeing his wife in pain was apparently too much for his father because he finally cracked.

  “I’m Darver! Please don’t kill her. I’ll give you whatever you want. Just please…!”

  “Are you now?” Ramson asked in a conversational tone. “Then tell me. I’ve heard of a wonderful pendant that happens to be in your possession. Would you happen to know where this pendant may be?”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing!” Darver said vehemently. “Now please, let her go! She hasn’t done anything to you!”

  Karrin’s throat bobbed in terror, tears streaming down her cheeks as the blade was pressed just a bit harder, a line of red now welling around the sharpened edge.

  Arbor looked on in helpless rage.

  He had the pendant around his neck. All he had to do was tell Ramson, and he would let his mother go. But he’d promised his father not to
give the pendant up under any circumstances.

  Indecision warred inside him as he stood there. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, gritting his teeth in frustration.

  Ramson stared down at Darver for a long moment, then let out a snort.

  “What a pity. It seems you wife isn’t worth much to you.”

  He drew his sword across Karrin’s neck, kicking her forward and spraying her husband in a shower of blood.

  Karrin gurgled, her eyes bulging wide, hands clutching at her neck, as blood pumped out from between her fingers. Then she went limp.

  Arbor screamed in helpless rage as his mother’s lifeless body dropped to the ground, blood pouring from her open throat and soaking into the once-white carpet rolled between the aisles.

  “You bastard! I’ll kill you for that!” Darver roared, throwing himself at the man, hands outstretched as he reached for the man’s throat.

  Ramson stood back calmly as Darver ran at him, his sword held loosely in his hand. One of Ramson’s men stuck from the side, burying a spear in his throat, twisting it and ripping it free. Darver was dead before his body even hit the ground, blood pumping from the ragged tear in his throat.

  Arbor stared as both his parents were brutally murdered in front of him. His mind was numb with shock, but something was quickly beginning to take its place. Rage.

  First, Florren and now, my parents. I have nothing left to lose now, Arbor thought to himself, feeling almost surreal, as though he were walking through a dream.

  But this wasn’t a dream.

  Arbor felt something welling up inside of him, and it suddenly burst forth, manifesting itself in a scream of rage. With a mighty heave, he tore himself from the men who were holding him, sending them staggering back in surprise.

  Ramson was cleaning his blade when he saw Arbor running at him. “Oh, good. Another one. Kill him as well,” he said to the spearman who had just killed his father.

  The man stepped forward, thrusting his spear at Arbor’s throat. Something odd happened then. Arbor could somehow feel where the spear was going to be.