Finally, with the three holes dug and a large mound of dirt to the side, he cast the spade to the side and walked back over to his mother’s body.
He carefully scooped her up into his arms and carried her over to the first hole. With that same level of care, he lowered her into the hole, nearly falling in when he set her to rest.
She remained in the hole without any further actions on Caleb’s part as he carried the cold bodies of Andrew and his father to the holes.
Once his father was in the middle hole and Andrew was in the hole to his right, Caleb picked the spade back up and began the grueling task of filling the holes with the dirt that he had piled up.
Pain lanced through his arms as a result of the repetitious actions of scooping up the dirt and tossing it into a hole. Coupled with the fact that he had just dug three rather deep holes, it was clear that he would not be able to move his arms too easily the next day- not without pain, at least. Still, he kept it up, not taking a break for more than a few seconds.
With the holes finally finished, he dropped the spade to the ground.
“I will avenge you all. Even if it costs me my life, I will kill the bastards that did this to you… to our home… to our people. I will not rest until this is done,” Caleb promised. His voice once again revealed emotion, showing that the apathy had not truly consumed him. “But first, I have to do something.”
With those last words, Caleb looked over his shoulder at the wreckage of the house that he had lived in all his life. The house had been a big part of his family, having been built by his grandfather before he died when Michael had been younger than Caleb was at that moment.
Taking a deep breath, Caleb began to grab pieces of the broken wood of the house and throw them off to the side, clearing as much room as he could until the floor of the room that had belonged to his parents was visible.
With the floor visible, Caleb ducked underneath a wooden beam and crawled towards his father’s bed, which was covered in debris. He slid his hand underneath the bed and tested the floor in certain places by putting his hand down and rubbing it. It did not take long to find the wooden board that rocked freely when he made that motion.
Caleb immediately went for the knife at his belt and withdrew it. Bringing the hunting tool to the loose board, he slipped the blade in at its edge. With a slight amount of force, he propped the board up and picked it up with his free hand. The knife was sheathed at his belt as he carefully set the board down farther back under the bed.
Peering into the open area that was revealed with the board gone, Caleb could easily see that a small storage place had been built there. It was only as wide as a wooden board, but it was actually about a foot deep. There was only one object inside of it at that moment though. That object appeared to be a cloth covered sword.
Sliding farther under the bed, Caleb reached into the storage area and grasped the object with his left hand and carefully lifted it up. As it cleared the opening of the, he slid backwards, exiting from under the bed, which he knew not to be safe in the slightest.
Once out from under the bed, he backed up until he could turn around safely.
It was not until he was outside of the destroyed house that he allowed himself to look at the object that he was holding more closely.
The cloth that was wrapped around it felt softer than any material that he had touched in his life, and it was kept closed by three black ribbons, one at each end and one in the middle.
Setting it on the ground, he carefully undid the ribbons and removed the object from the cloth.
As his father had told him, the object that he kept in the storage area was a sword, but it did not look like any sword that he had ever seen.
It had the design of a rather simplistic longsword, but there was no doubt in his mind that a master blacksmith had forged it. The quality and beauty of the weapon was incredible.
With it sheathed, the unmarked pommel, the hand guard, the locket, and the chape were the only visible metallic parts the sword, but they all shined as if polished. The leather of the grip and the scabbard appeared to be just as finely made, appearing to be as dark as ink.
Grasping the hilt firmly with his right hand, Caleb drew the sword from its sheath. Looking upon the blade confirmed his thoughts that all of the visible metal of the sword looked perfectly polished.
The sword was beautiful in its simplicity, Caleb noted. To him, it looked more magnificent than any jewel encrusted sword that the nobles of the kingdom were said to carry.
They’re definitely going to think I’m a thief, he thought when his father’s words about attracting the attention of the one that knew where the Sword of Kirakath was located came to mind.
Another thought crossed his mind at that moment that had him frowning.
Why do I feel like I’ve seen this sword before? The question plagued his mind for a few moments, but he dismissed it after not long after that Later, he would reflect that he should have thought more on it.
Sliding the sword back in its sheath, Caleb rose to his feet. As soon as he was standing up, he attached the scabbard to his belt at his left hip and spared one last glance at the graves that he had built.
I don’t know whether to be glad that Gabriel was gone or wish that he had been here in the hopes that he could have changed everything, he thought with a heavy sigh. It took every ounce of willpower that he had not to fall apart at that moment, but he felt that he did not have such a luxury.
Dad always taught me to put duty above personal happiness, Caleb thought with a look of remembrance upon his face. It’s time I start doing exactly that.
With that, Caleb began to walk towards the trail that he had come from earlier that day. It was without another look towards the destroyed village of Kirakath that Caleb left.
All thoughts of returning to the village in the future, even the distant future, were nonexistent. Caleb’s walk was not that of a man on an errand. It was that of a man that had nothing left to live for.
Chapter 5
Maybe I should’ve dug through the house to see if I could get another pair of clothes, Caleb thought as he looked down at his clothes. Dirt and blood were visible on his tunic and the sleeves of his undershirt. Apparently, digging the graves and handling fresh corpses had a tendency to soil clothing.
The only reason that thoughts of his clothes came to mind was because he was walking down the road towards Caldreth, covered in blood and dirt, with a finely made longsword at his hip.
He sighed as he dusted off his hands on his leggings.
Who am I kidding? I don’t care what anyone thinks when they see me, he thought with a grimace. My home was just destroyed. My family was just murdered. Why should I care?
Anger swelled in him as he placed his left hand on the pommel of his sword. Anger was easier to deal with pain and sadness. It could be vented; pain and sadness could only be healed by time.
Where are you? Caleb looked off to the horizon. For the thousandth time in the past few days, he wished that Hector was there. He would know what to do. He would have the dedication to do what he needed to. Caleb was sure that he would never lose hope either.
Unlike me, he thought bitterly.
It seemed that his very being was a battlefield, and the combatants were his self-doubts and his determination to carry out his father’s last requests. His self-doubts were clearly winning at that moment.
A twinge of pain brought him from his thoughts. He could already feel his recent actions catching up to him. His encounter with the bear on the last day of his hunt had left him bruised, and his decision to give his parents and Gabriel’s father a proper burial had caused his muscles to ache uncontrollably.
I need to find somewhere to stop and rest, he thought. Unfortunately, he had no idea what he was going to do, despite his thoughts. He did not have a copper to his name, so stopping at an inn was out of the question. Without a bow, he could not hunt any game either. In short, he had a very uncomfortable journey to look forw
ard to. The only bright side, it seemed, was that only twenty-five miles stood between Kirakath and Caldreth.
His eyes moved forward once again. How far away am I now? He knew not how long he had been traveling, but he was certain that the sun would be setting in a few hours based on its current position.
The sound of rustling leaves brought Caleb’s focus to his surroundings and not just the road itself.
Caleb’s eyes narrowed as he saw six men step out from the forest that stood at both sides of the road. The men all wore dark clothing with bandanas that completely hid their hair. There was no doubt in Caleb’s mind that they were highwaymen, brigands that charged passers a fee to walk the roads. His suspicions were confirmed the moment that they began to walk towards him.
The six men took on a pyramid-like position with one man standing in the front, two men standing behind the first in a row, and three men standing behind them. It seemed to indicate that the man towards the front was the leader of the group.
Getting a good look at the leader, he noticed that he was the only one of the highwaymen that had facial hair and an identifying facial feature. The man’s black goatee and the long, diagonal scan on his left cheekbone made him stand out from his subordinates.
“Greetings traveler,” the leader said with a slight inclination of his head. “If you would be so kind as to empty your pockets, we will let you leave in one piece.”
He’s not even acting like he’s anything but a highwayman, Caleb thought in disbelief. Has he no shame?
Caleb knew better than to make his thoughts be known, though. He had seen the swords at the hips of the six highwaymen. Such were not odds that he would willingly go up against. In an effort not to start a fight, he said, “I don’t have pockets.”
“Duly noted,” the leader said with an exaggerated sigh. “Don’t be such a smartass. Hand over all of your possessions, including that sword.”
Caleb’s anger could be seen through his eyes at that point, becoming even more prominent as his right hand grasped the hilt of the longsword. “We seem to be at an impasse then. I can’t hand over my sword, and I can already tell that you won’t be willing to turn around and leave.”
“It never ceases to amaze me how fast a lowly peasant can go from evading a fight to provoking one,” the leader commented with a grin. His hand grasped the hilt of his longsword. “The question is this. Do you honestly believe that you can take us all on?”
“That’s the big question,” Caleb agreed with a forced smile. “I’m not worried though.”
Mistaking Caleb’s words for an insult in regards to a lack of fear or respect, the leader of the highwaymen drew his sword and swung it at the blond with a quick dash.
Caleb, anticipating the attack, grabbed the scabbard by its middle with his left hand and raised it so that it was level. With a single motion, he drew his sword and parried the highwaymen’s blade. The mirror like blade glimmered as it held back the crudely made sword.
“Impressive,” the highwayman commented as he jumped back and went in for a quick thrust to Caleb’s torso, but the young man easily parried the strike off to the right.
Using the gap in the highwayman’s defenses, Caleb threw a punch with his left hand and caught his jaw with it. The force of the punch, while not all that great, was enough to knock the highwayman down. It also made the brigand drop his sword, which Caleb kicked off to the side immediately.
As soon as their leader hit the ground, the other five highwaymen drew their swords and all came in at him, charging as fast as they could.
No thoughts passed through Caleb’s head as he was attacked by a force that should have easily overwhelmed him. It was out of pure instinct that he did what he did.
With a quick spin of his body, Caleb brought the tip of the blade to the ground. The combination of the two actions sent a small cloud of dust towards the five highwaymen.
With the men distracted, Caleb stepped forward and thrusted the blade towards the closest man. He felt the tip of the blade pierce the man’s wool tunic and punch through the skin. It was with only a small amount of resistance that the blade went through the man’s body completely.
Out of the corner of his eye, Caleb saw one of the highwaymen emerge from the cloud of dust and prepare to attack. He never made it though. Caleb’s knife, which had been sheathed at his right hip the entire time, had wound up embedded into the highwayman’s forehead to the handle.
Weight on his sword brought Caleb’s attention to the man that he had impaled with it. He had collapsed and was in the process of sliding off of the finely made longsword. Tilting the sword a little farther down sped up that process.
With his sword half covered in blood, Caleb looked at the four living highwaymen. It seemed that their leader had picked up his sword and was prepared to take part in the fight.
“Don’t attack him all at one time,” their leader suddenly said. “You’ll trip over yourselves, and if you’re going to die, then it best profit the rest of us. Attack him one at a time, and feel free to step in if you see a gap in his defenses.”
He doesn’t talk like I thought a criminal would talk, Caleb thought idly. And why is he giving them orders loud enough for me to hear?
He had no time to think further on the matter as one of the highwaymen ducked down and took off running towards him. The thrust that he aimed towards Caleb’s abdomen would have succeeded had the young man not been able to jump back and slap the attacker’s blade with his outstretched sword.
The highwayman that had attempted to attack Caleb had been thrown off-balance by the way his attack was batted away, but that was not what did him in.
Caleb quickly slammed his elbow into the side of the off-balance highwayman’s neck. It took little effort to place his left hand on the back on the man’s head and turn it suddenly. Using his elbow to force the neck to remain as it was, Caleb was able to snap the man’s neck, despite his lack of physical strength.
Though Caleb had just taken out three men, the fight was over. The distinctive feel of metal slamming into the back of his head was the last sensation he experienced before unconsciousness took over.
Chapter 6
As he finally reentered the realm of consciousness, one question plagued his mind. What’s going on? Groggily opening his eyes, he instantly became aware of a few things.
The first thing that he noticed was that his feet were cold. They were also bare, his boots having been removed while he was unconscious.
The second thing that he noticed was that his belt had been removed, meaning that his sword, his knife’s sheath, and his quiver were not on his body.
And the third thing that he noticed was that he had a pair of metal cuffs around his wrists with a one foot long chain connecting them.
What in the world is going on? At that moment, he remembered his encounter with the highwaymen. A sense of revulsion filled him as he remembered killing three men during the encounter. That revulsion was quickly suppressed, however, by the reminder that the men had been criminals that freely robbed travelers and had been willing to kill him.
Why am I not dead? Confusion filled him as he tried to come to a conclusion in regards to what was going on. Surely they wouldn’t just leave me alive after I killed three of their men, would they?
“So, you’re finally awake.”
His eyes opened at the unexpected words, making him aware of the night sky. The feminine voice that spoke those words surprised Caleb. He had not expected to see or speak to a girl in the middle of nowhere.
Sitting up, Caleb looked to the speaker and saw that there was a girl sitting about six feet away from him to his left.
By the campfire that was about twenty feet in front of him, Caleb could tell that she was a thin girl close to his own age with relatively light skin. Tangled hair fell to her shoulders in a deep shade of red framed her face, making her bright green eyes seem brighter than anything he had ever seen before.
Caleb had little experience with girls,
having met only one or two his age in his life, so it was not a surprise that he had no idea how to describe her. She may have been a pretty girl, but he could not tell at the moment. Her face was smudged with dirt, and she was wearing black leggings and a sleeveless black tunic that were covered with a thin layer of dust and dirt. Like him, she did not have any boots on.
He was a bit unsure what to think about the way that she wore the attire that would be more commonly seen on a boy, but he was not entirely surprised. His mother had always told him that it was almost as common to see a girl in a tunic and leggings as it was to see one in a dress. She was from the city of Zabryan, so he supposed she knew more about people than he did.
A pang of sadness went through him at the memory of his mother, but he tried not to make the sudden change in mood to obvious.
“I’m awake,” Caleb said quietly, looking around. There seemed to be about five tents around them and the camp fire. It would have been a circle of tents, but there was not one where they were.
Through the Flames Page 4
