Pariah (The New Covenant Series)

by Bond, Casey L.

  It can’t be that bad to get this mark thing, right? I mean, the examiner looked over every square inch of my back to try to find it, so it must be small.

  I looked back over my shoulder in time to see the white angel draw a long, glistening sword from behind his back. It shone with light, and he approached so fast I couldn’t even comprehend how he’d moved. Deep, hot pain flashed down the length of my spine.

  Before I could even scream, I heard a sickening crack behind me and looked back still trying to recover from the sword’s slice. The dark angel’s whip dripped with flame before I saw a flash and heard a sickening crack. A searing pain blazed across my shoulder blades from left to right. The scream released from my throat didn’t even sound human. My vision blurred, muscles fell limp and useless against the blinding pain.

  As my head bobbed on my chest, I caught a glimpse of Faric, still pinned against the trunk of the oak below. He was screaming and thrashing against the invisible forces that held him, looking up at me. Then all went black.

  Solara hung suspended in the air, completely limp as the white winged jerk lowered her down, gently placing her on the ground on her stomach. At least he didn’t drop her on her back. “Let me go you bastards! She’d better be alive!” I screamed, hoarse from screaming every profanity I could think of since being slammed against this blasted tree. Both of them laughed and the black winged idiot looked down at me smiling and said, “She is alive. Why does she concern you, human?” He was actually taking pleasure in all of this.

  “Let me go!” I bellowed. Again they responded with laughter.

  “Human. Ha!” The dark angel laughed. “You are definitely different from your brother.” He swiped his hand, and the force holding me disappeared, and I fumbled onto my knees, righted myself, and ran to her. When I looked up again, light and dark were gone. Solara lay limp on the ground, slumped halfway on her right side and half on her stomach. Her golden hair splayed on the ground around her head. Her flesh along her spine was spliced open, raw flesh parted by a sea of crimson while the flesh across the blades of her shoulders was burned, charred, and singed.

  I needed to see if she was breathing but didn’t want to hurt her or move her onto her back. I cradled her head in my hands and then felt her neck for a pulse. It was there. “Thank God,” I breathed. My hands shook as I ran to Juniper and led her over.

  Gently as I could, I picked Solara up, making sure my hands avoided the wounds on her back. I laid her in the back of the wagon on her stomach. Crimson soaked the material on the back of her once white dress. I didn’t have the supplies to help her but knew who could, so I wrapped her torso as tightly as

  I could manage, jumped into the seat, and jerked hard on the reigns. Juniper, sensing the urgency, sprung forward and took off galloping with purpose through the forest toward the other trail. Traveling to the second well would now be too risky. If Wesley had been followed, Solara would be at risk of being taken prisoner by the kingdom. I couldn’t let that happen. I prayed that she would last until we made it to the settlement. Maylon could help her, and she was the only one I trusted to keep Solara’s secret.

  More than an hour later, we arrived within the boundary of the settlement. Its lights shone through the darkness beyond. I stopped the wagon short when the lookouts reached for the arrows in their quivers, glancing back at Solara to make sure she hadn’t been jolted too badly. In the darkness, it was impossible to tell if she had or not. She was still unconscious and I prayed still alive. The prophecy said the mark would appear, not that she would be sliced and burned by two sadistic bastard angels.

  Heat coursed through my body, and my fists clenched at the memory of the cruelty they had inflicted upon her beautiful soft body. The lookouts drew near, arrows nocked. “It’s me. The trader. I have urgent need to see Maylon. Please,” I begged, my voice breaking.

  “Come forward, Trader. We must see your face.” The voice was that of a young teenage male. A larger man stood beside him. Drawing nearer, I saw that it was Owyn and his son Rager, indeed a boy of fourteen.

  “Riven! Come. Rager will lead you to Maylon. I will stay behind and stand guard,” he nudged Rager and nodded for him to comply. “Go son, hurry.”

  The lanky tall boy jumped onto the seat beside me and pointed to the east. “She moved. That way.”

  Juniper bounded forward, obeying my command, and we raced eastward along the settlement’s border. I saw a singular light flickering in the distance. Thank goodness she preferred seclusion. Protecting Solara would be difficult enough without it.

  Maylon met us outside the door of her home, a newly constructed wooden octagonal structure christened with a thickly thatched roof. No doubt, she knew we were coming probably before I’d even made the decision to bring her here. Her long gray hair was ghostlike in the light of the full moon, and her wrinkles and their shadows fought for supremacy over her features. “Bring the girl in. Quickly. We haven’t much time.” She held the door open, and I gently lifted Solara from the wagon and carried her into Maylon’s home. Rager left without saying a word, walking quickly back toward his post and his father.

  Maylon swiped her arm across her rectangular wooden dinner table, scattering its contents all over the floor. She grabbed the lit candelabras and began to assess Solara’s wounds. Maylon was a great many things. One of which was a healer and another, an oracle. She grabbed a small wooden box from the mantle of the fireplace and started to furiously race around the kitchen, grabbing various jars of herbs and oils. When her arms overflowed, she would thrust their contents at me and go back for more. She hummed as she tapped her bottom lip with her finger. Then she turned around and looked in a tall wooden cupboard and grabbed something out of it.

  The aroma of the sage, mint, and rosemary swirled through the air along with the scents of herbs whose scents I couldn’t place. Maylon moved as quickly as her stiff joints would allow, gathering strips of cloth, water from her basin, and then rummaging through her cabinets with her arm extended, searching for something within its darkness. I stood over Solara’s still body, blood still streaming from the deep gash along her spine. I could smell her seared flesh too.

  I’d never smelled burnt human flesh. It was different from that of an animal. I’d smelled burnt animal flesh more times than I could count, but this was different, more pungent. More intimate. And worst of all, it was hers. It stung my nostrils, my stomach lurching in response. I staggered quickly toward, falling to my knees and emptied the contents of my stomach on the grass until nothing else came up while my body still heaved and retched.

  I tried to go back in and help Maylon, but she shooed me away, muttering that if I couldn’t see Solara now without being sick, I certainly couldn’t handle what she would have to do next. I paced outside her door for hours before I finally stalked off toward the pub to drown the memory of the night’s events.

  Father managed to avoid me for most of the day of the wedding. He had one of his errand boys break the news to me, having not been man enough or brave enough to look in my eyes and tell me himself. Solara would not be mine. He had promised me that I would have my choice of the potentials. Solara was it. My choice.

  The only one of the three worthy to become my wife, to serve me in every way that I would demand. The other two would have been too easily broken. I would have grown bored with them too quickly. Solara was different. She was strong and stubborn and would have fought me for a lifetime, providing me endless hours of entertainment. But Father had denied me the one I wanted. The one he had sworn was mine. The one I deserved.

  His position on the council proved meaningless. He’d exaggerated his influence over the other council members. If I were in his position, the others would grovel at my feet, begging me for mercy. They would only hold their positions in honor of tradition.

  I would rule. My decisions are absolute. Unquestionable. Those who were brave or foolish enough to oppose me would suffer severely. Punishment. Torture. Death would follow, displayed publicly, a det
errent for future disloyalty and disobedience. Fear would bathe the hearts of my subjects. Fear and respect. Loyalty to me and me alone.

  I watched Solara during the ceremony and briefly spoke with her once afterward, informing her of the fact that she had been promised to me and then stolen. The fact that she defied me by returning to her husband intrigued and aroused me even further. Only she had the nerve to defy me. Lillian was too sweet. She would have been broken the first time the back of my hand made contact with her cheek. She would have cowered in fear for the remainder of our marriage. Aria, though she spoke as though she could own any man she fluttered her lashes or shook her ass at, would have begged me for mercy as well. None would be found but begged she would have. She was a whore too, having spread her legs for half of the men in the village. My wife would be chaste. I would be the only man to ever touch her body. Her first and last. She would be my property. Mine.

  My fists shook at the memory of Solara leaving the wedding banquet with Wesley, heading toward their home. The curves of her body sheathed in innocent lace, plunging dangerously low on her curves. He would not steal her innocence. No one would rob me of my prize. She was mine. I sent Matthias to watch them and report back to me immediately if the consummation seemed imminent. I hadn’t heard from him and paced the floor outside of my father’s residence, waiting for word. Where was Father? He hadn’t shown up at the wedding, probably unable to look me in the eye after having failed to provide me the only thing he’d ever promised. The only thing I’d ever wanted. The only thing I’d ever asked him for.

  Finally, I saw him, walking along the cobbled lane toward me. Toward the home he believed to be a safe haven. I sunk into the shadows and lay in wait. His white robes hung loose from his body and swayed back and forth, rebelling against the dark night around him. He entered his home and went into a back room, emerging in the kitchen a few minutes later. I waited outside his window as he prepared himself a drink and removed his sandals. I watched him wash his face and change into his bed clothes.

  When he extinguished the flames on the candles above his bed, I crept in through the house’s back door. I had made sure to grease the metal hinges before he got home. I always hated the stupid squeaky things. Their irksome sound had to be extinguished tonight to conceal my intrusion.

  I gripped the hilt of the blade in my hand. Its metal warmed from the heat in my palm. Slowly, I crept toward his bed. The heavy moonlight flooded through the window of his bedroom, casting everything in a gray ghostly glow. He tossed and turned, searching for a comfort he would never find. He should have known better than to disappoint me. I looked down on him, and as he turned over once more, his eyes opened, the moonlight reflecting in the glassy orbs. He jumped at the sight of me, but it was too late. I knew it. And now he knew it too. Realization climbed onto the wrinkled skin around his brow.

  I held the cold metal blade at his throat, and when he jumped up, I sunk it into his flesh and sliced across it in a swift fluid motion. Blood sprayed from his arteries with each fading, frantic heartbeat and poured from the trench I’d carved of his flesh, soaking his white robes and blankets a deep crimson. I watched intently as his soul seeped from his eyes, leaving a blank, empty stare in its absence. Yes. He had realized that it was me who had slashed away his life. The power of revenge coursed manically through my veins, euphoric. In the moment of adrenaline-filled bliss, I realized that there were other council members who deserved a lesson tonight as well. I stalked off into the darkness. Before tonight, there had been nine council members. I left three alive. The fates of the other five mingled with my father’s.

  Though I didn’t kill them in the exact same manner, I had enjoyed watching each and every one suck in their last breaths, their eyes revealing terror. One, I had bound to a chair and removed his tongue before severing his femoral arteries, leaving him sitting in a pool of the remnants of his own lifeblood. Another, I had gagged and carved one eye from its socket, leaving the other to watch as I picked it up with the tip of my knife and showed it to him. I’d stuck my knife in his heart, removed his gag and stuffed his eyeball into his lying mouth.

  One, I scalped. One died from slashed wrists and Achilles tendons. The eldest council member, begged for mercy, flags of sagging skin trembling as he reached up toward me in a fatherly embrace. With him, out of respect for my elder, of course, I made a deal. I told him the plans I had in store but bargained that if he would take his own life, I would refrain from carrying out the punishment I had planned to bestow on him. He took my knife and, with hands shaking of palsy, dropped it on the floor. Having chosen his own fate, I swiftly slit his throat before patiently sawing off his head.

  The last council member was young and had only been married for a year. He pleaded with me not to harm his wife. To let her go. She had nothing to do with his position or the council’s decisions. I let him watch as I gagged her and cut her toes off one at a time.

  He jerked and writhed against his bindings every time his lovely wife had screamed. Their tears enraged me, and I finally gutted her and moved on to him. He shook with fear and anger by the time I drew near to him. I stabbed him over and over and over until the rage left my body. Covered in the blood of those who had crossed me denied me, I walked toward Solara’s home. Keeping to the shadows, I saw Faric approach their house and throw open the door. No consummation going on now, I thought.

  So I turned toward home to remove the sticky metallic-smelling liquid that coated my person. After I’d washed their sins from my body, Matthias burst through my door. Matthias, one of the three council members I’d left alive, was my friend and one of the only people that I trusted. He frantically explained that Faric had convinced Solara to leave with him through the forest. She was the chosen, and the council would kill her if they discovered it.

  They would rather force the hand of God than leave fate in the hands of a simple girl. Wesley had consumed some sort of poison and that Lillian had done the same. The two were in a deep herb-induced sleep. Well, at least I didn’t have to get bloody again. The two were already comatose. I will thank Faric for his assistance should our paths cross again.

  That fleeting thought was immediately replaced by a darker one. Anger flashed through my body like lightning, heating my fingers. I clenched them to keep the tips cracking and leaking fire. Faric took Solara. She wasn’t the chosen. Lucas meticulously examined her back, which was bare for all to see. The obvious conclusion: Faric wanted Solara to himself. My vision ran red with rage. His punishment would be much more severe than the lying, filthy former council members.

  I planned to go after her, pry her from his filthy hands, but first, I had a kingdom to take over. Matthias, Lucas, and Crinn met at the great hall. Seated in my father’s chair, the three pledged their loyalty to me and me alone. Matthias would be placed in charge of kingdom security and would begin to organize his militia tomorrow. Lucas would be in charge of kingdom needs, overseeing the distribution of goods, homes, marriages, and the like. Crinn would be in charge of trade and war, working in tandem with the other two. He would begin to procure more arms and commission ships from the seafarers. He was placed in charge of developing ideas for kingdom expansion by force, if necessary.

  My presence was required during this time of rebirth. Matthias was instructed to use any means available to hunt down Faric and return Solara to me immediately. She, of course, was to remain unharmed. Any punishment she received would come directly from my hand. He was to also instruct his men that if she were touched or defiled sexually, I would personally hand down their punishments as well, and they would beg for the sanctuary of the fires of hell in relief of the nightmare I would unleash upon them.

  With the plans in place, I slept well knowing that the kingdom was indeed mine, and that my rightful wife would be returned to me soon. I dreamt of Solara’s long golden hair draping down my naked flesh.

  Loud banging on my door jerked me from this most pleasant dream. I grabbed my dagger and clutched it tightly, keeping
it hidden behind me. Peeking out, I saw Faric standing outside. How dare he! Where was Solara? My blood boiled as he pushed his way into my home. I contained my urge to remove his spleen at least until I could ascertain Solara’s whereabouts.

  “Altair, most of the council members are dead! Where is your father?” he spat.

  “He has met a similar fate, I’m afraid,” I said coolly, assessing him. In my sanctuary.

  “Have you at least seen my brother? I’m going to kill him, and I can’t seem to find him anywhere!” he yelled, pacing the floor in front of my fireplace. Then I took in his appearance. His clothes were stained, and his face was sweaty, wetting the caked mud that clawed his cheeks. The smell coming from his person invaded my nostrils, and I cringed. He hadn’t bathed in weeks or maybe months. What brother? I’d never seen Faric’s brother and certainly wasn’t aware that he had one.

  “I wasn’t aware that you had a brother, Faric. Has he been living with you of late?”

  “No. I hadn’t seen him in years before he showed up few weeks ago. At least, I think that’s about how long I’ve been gone. What day is it?” he asked, seemingly very confused. He grasped his forehead with both hands. I advised that the reveal had already taken place and reminded him that he had been married to Lillian, one of the available potentials, and that intelligence gathered had indicated that he had fled and disappeared with Solara early in the night.

  “What? I’ve been chained to the wall of some cave for the past few weeks or maybe longer. I can’t be sure. I was taken in the middle of the night a couple of weeks before the introduction! When the coward who took me finally revealed his face, imagine my astonishment to see my long lost brother!” he spat the last word.

  “I saw you myself, Faric. It was you.” On one hand he was disgusting, and his stench alone begged me to believe his story, but my eyes had not betrayed me. He was at the introduction. It was he who had dragged me from the balcony of the fortress and delivered the beating of my life. A few yellowing bruises still clung to my ribcage. He had married Lillian. And he had taken Solara, per my trusted friend Matthias.