The Thief

Chapter 28

With blood splattered all over the bottom of his face, a sadistic smile carved into his mouth and eyes filled with a demonic satisfied gaze, Patrick let out a laugh.

But it was like I could not hear it. No sound entered my ears other than the high pitched ringing of a whitesound successfully disrupting my senses at the sight before me. I fell to my knees in disbelief. My mouth slightly open as if waiting for me to let out my breathless cry which never came.

My gaze had not left his now lifeless eyes. I was to afraid to break it away, to afraid to face the sick reality before me. I was in utter shock.

Somewhere near my foggy senses picked up some commotion. The soldiers restraining me left to deal with it. My breathing hitched in my throat as I finally painfully tore my gaze away to meet with Patrick's form.

I felt rage burn through my veins as I let myself succumb to my anger, my fury. Rising to my feet, gaze locked on my target unwavering the slightest, I began my slow stalk towards him. Bloodlust clouded my vision. I was a hunter and he was my prey.

Patrick was slightly distracted with all the commotion. He still however held my dripping dagger in his right hand. It's once silver blade now stained with a dark crimson liquid. How cruel can one man get?

He killed his own son and he used my dagger just to rub it in. I will never be able to wield properly ever again after knowing which life it took.

Patrick seemed to take notice of me and the killer intent that glistened in my blood lust eyes yet he never dropped that sadistic smile. I was about to lunge towards him but I was stopped by an unwanted opponent blocking my path.

Forced to fight him, I manoeuvred my body swiftly behind him and swiped an arrow from the hilt on his back before plunging it into his neck. He was dead in seconds. It was the first time that I had ever killed someone. I probably should have reacted but my mind was occupied with other more important matters such as making Lord Patrick pay.

I turned to face Patrick but he was not there. He had successfully made his way over to his steed and had mounted, my dagger still in hand. Before I could charge after him, he lifted my dagger up and forcefully threw it into the hard ground causing it to stand up right. He then galloped off with a few of his men that managed to get away tailing after him.

It was that very moment that I swore to the heavens above and hells below that I would be the one to take his life even if it took me to my grave with him. Turning around I now faced the cause of all the commotion which lead to the fighting.

There stood, with bloodied weapons in hand this expressionless faces of Jessie an Warren as they helped each other take down the last remaining soldier who had both his legs cut off and was unsuccessfully trying to crawl away in a pitiful attempt to save his worthless life.

I turned back to the Commander's decapitated body. I couldn't bring myself to accept that he was dead even though it was clearly evident that he was. I felt two figures approach me on either side, I knew it was Jessie and Warren.

Both were coated in blood which I knew was mostly from their merciless slaughter of the enemy soldiers. They too gazed upon Commander Tyron's form. I could feel the hatred, the frustration, the rage, the anger, the need for vengeance and most importantly the guilt for not being able to save the Commander in time radiate through the air. We all felt the same.

Nothing was said or spoken to one another on what just happened. It was a silent agreement amongst each other as we processed the events that just took place. I walked up towards my dagger and pulled it from the ground, gazing at the now tainted blade. I wiped the blood off and placed it back in my boot willing myself to deal with it later.

Jessie had retrieved the five good horses belonging to the five dead soldiers that we had killed.

We had killed...

I killed someone...

Yet another thing that I was yet to process and wasn't planning on addressing that matter anytime soon.

Warren had managed to lift the Commander's lifeless body and secure it onto the back of one of the horses. Now all that remained was his head. No one made a move to retrieve it, so after a while I took in a deep breath urging it to give me strength and walked slowly towards it.

I carefully lifted it up, I felt some blood trickle down my arms but that did not stop me. We couldn't just leave him here like this, he deserved a proper burial. I secured his head to the same horse that Warren had previously secured his body to.

His stormy grey eyes still wide open. I lifted my hand up and ran my fingers over his eye lids forcing them closed for good. My heart ached. Although I did not know Tyron for long, he still had a major impact of my useless pitiful life.

He could have killed me but chose not to but instead managed to gain my trust and become somewhat of a treasured friend to me, I enjoyed his company. I had a dark sickening feeling in my gut that blamed myself for his death.

If it wasn't for me... He would still be alive.

If it wasn't for me, Patrick would not have killed him. He would have not been put in that situation.

Turning around, I noted that Jessie and Warren were already mounted with Jessie holding the reins of the horse that carried Commander Tyron in order to lead it back to camp and Warren holding the reins of the other spare horse that stood next to his mounted one. That left the other for me to mount.

The ride back to camp was just as silent as before. It was deafening however even if we were to converse which I doubt any of us wished to, nature prevented it by opening up the skies with a thunderstorm. It felt as though even the heavens weeped for our unfortunate loss.

We were soaked to the bone but we did not care the slightest. It washed away the visible blood and It numbed the pain but unfortunately did not rid it.

The clouds kept reminding me of Tyron. They were as grey as his eyes. I was suddenly grateful for the rain as it masked my sorrow that weeped down my cheeks.

Seven long stiff hours later we reached the border patrol of the outer camp. We were met with several spears and weapons aimed at us for the horses we rode bore enemy armour but upon noticing the crest on our own armour with our solemn expressions and the Commander's dead body, we were escorted in.

The sky still weeped yet more of a softer rain this time as the sun was beginning to set. A lot of soldiers and knights were present as we entered to camp, they followed us in curiosity and worry once they took note of the body that was carried on the horse lead by Jessie.

We stopped at the centre of the camp where Prince Edward stood in the rain with one of the soldiers that must have ran ahead to alert him of our arrival and current situation.

If it was any other time, I would have admired his beauty as he truly looked like a godly being standing in the rain, however I felt hallow inside. I felt empty...

"Speak."