Retriever of the Lost Souls (Retriever Series Book 1)

by Brian

  He uttered an animalistic groan of pain deep in his heart. “I’m sorry. I broke the promise I made to my mother. I’m sorry I didn’t protect you. I wish I could make you better.” And he cried.

  The next day, as the women of the village prepared for her burial, Darfus’ grandmother approached him in private.

  “Darfus, I wish to speak with you.”

  “What is it, Grandmother?”

  “When we were preparing to wrap Talitha we saw skin and blood underneath the fingers on her right hand.”

  “Grandmother, there was blood everywhere,” Darfus said.

  “Yes, I know. But I noticed that Gylmyne had fresh scratches on the left side of his face,” she said softly as she walked away.

  Darfus considered what his grandmother said to him, and while he, Garro and Petre took turns digging the grave, the rest of the women finished preparing the body for burial by wrapping it in a linen shroud. With the head elder presiding, they laid her body to rest, and prayed the prayer of the dead, offering her body back to the earth, and her spirit to the heavens.

  One by one the family said goodbye to her and went to bed that night with few words spoken. Tears of sadness filled each cruck, as one by one, each of the sixteen candles, one for each of Talitha’s years, went dark, save for the one in Talitha’s room until it extinguished itself. That same night, as he slept, three hooded figures crept toward Mengo’s cruck. Darfus, Garro, and Merold had all experienced his cruelty and felt guilty because they had moved out of his cruck as soon as they could, and left Talitha to fend for herself.

  They walked into his bedroom intent on avenging four deaths. Garro and Merold each picked up one of the gauntlets; one still stained with Talitha’s blood. Knowing his big hands were weapon enough, Darfus approached Mengo and bumped his cot. When Mengo awoke, he saw what was waiting for him.

  “Get out now!” he roared.

  “You killed our mother and sisters - they never hurt you!” Darfus yelled at him.

  “She was a whoremonger! She gave herself to that man!” He yelled, feeling fear crawling up his spine.

  “You will die for what you did to them,” Darfus told him in a quiet voice.

  With the gauntlets and their fists, the murders of Talaya, Talitha, and two infant sisters were atoned for. Villagers in the cruck row woke to the screams and yells that came from Mengo’s cruck, but nobody wanted to get involved, for they knew that Mengo deserved everything he was given. The beating was vicious, as all three of them let out years of rage and frustration on the body of their father. Mengo’s face was hardly recognizable as it fared poorly against the gauntlets and the pent-up anger of his assailants. There would be nothing reported regarding the disappearance of Mengo, since nearly everyone had felt his cruelty at one time or another.

  Later that month, three hunters found a man’s remains deep in the woods. Wild animals had feasted, then scattered his bones. and even though the elders knew who it was, they kept quiet, for the village were relieved that such an evil man was no longer amongst them.

  That night Talitha came to Darfus in a dream, radiant and whole.

  “Talitha,” he mumbled. “How can you be gone? I promised mama to take care of you. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. Will you forgive me?”

  Talitha smiled and spoke. “It was Gylmyne. I scratched the side of his face. Do what you must?”

  The next day, Darfus approached the village elders when Gylmyne was away on official business. “I have new information regarding Talitha’s death that you will find ominous.”

  “What is this news? The case is considered closed,” said the head elder.

  “My Grandmother said that skin and dried blood were underneath Talitha’s fingernails. There were scratches on Gylmyne’s face.” Darfus’ voice broke.

  “Do you suspect Gylmyne had a part in this?”

  “My father said, ‘Talitha gave herself to a man,’ but I believe Gylmyne raped my sister and that my father killed her because of it.”

  Darfus searched the faces of the council for recognition or support of his ideas. After several intense moments, the head elder spoke.

  “We have suspicions that Gylmyne has been responsible for recent attacks against the girls of the village. You bring grave news indeed. When he returns, he will be arrested and held for questioning. With a grateful heart, Darfus clasped his hands in front of him as he bowed in reverence to the council.

  “Thank you for hearing me. I await your word on this matter,” Darfus said as he left the council.

  That afternoon, Darfus received word from a page of the council commanding his presence. When he got there, Gylmyne was in the interrogation room, his hands shackled to the chains on his feet. “Darfus, thank you for coming. Gylmyne has refused to confess to the crimes. Therefore, we have sent for you to oversee his ‘confession.’ We have prepared the rack. I should like to see him first,” Darfus said.

  “Of course, as you wish.”

  When Darfus walked into the adjacent room, Gylmyne gave him a smug look. Darfus searched the prisoner’s face for any sign of remorse, but Gylmyne remained motionless.

  “You have no proof that I have done anything” Gylmyne told him.

  “Oh, but I do.” Darfus told him. “Talitha told me of what you had done to her.”

  “Dead women have no voice. She could say nary a thing since she is dead. I will never confess of this crime,” Gylmyne snickered,

  “I wonder if this will change your mind,” Darfus whispered in Gylmyne’s ear.

  As he turned around, the head elder motioned for the guard to prepare the prisoner. Once that was completed, the rack was cinched to make the body taut. Gylmyne flinched but kept the same smug look on his face. Darfus stared at him intently, trying to get the whisper of a confession from the man. With each click of the rack, Darfus saw the smug look grow weaker as fear began to creep into his eyes.

  “I have nothing to say!” He hollered.

  Then, there was a sickening ‘crack’ as his left shoulder was separated. The prisoner howled with pain but said nothing else.

  “Gylmyne, do you confess to the rape of Talitha and other girls of the village?” Darfus asked.

  “I haven’t done anything” he yelled.

  There was yet another crack as his left hip was separated, followed by a long, low moan of pain. Unable to withstand it further, Gylmyne confessed “Yes, I did it. I took Talitha’s innocence. But she was a whore, she wanted it. I took the innocence of all the girls, but they all asked to be opened” He said as tears of pain ran down his face

  The room was silent except for the moaning of the prisoner. The head-elder motioned for the rack to be retracted. Turning to Gylmyne, he spoke with a quivering tone.

  “You were respected and honored. Now, you have brought shame to our village and your name. Because of this, I sentence you to spend three days in the village square pillory. Then, at sundown on the third day, you will be hanged until dead.”

  Darfus left without saying a word. That night Talitha again visited him.

  “Thank you for taking care of Gylmyne. But I must go now. Do not blame yourself for this Darfus. I love you.”

  “No! Oh, no Ta—” Darfus sat straight up in bed, realizing this time he would not see her again. Sadness filled his heart.

  Gylmyne spent his three-day sentence in the stocks as the people of the village stared with disbelief in their eyes and hearts. The villagers threw rotten food at him, and the bolder men urinated on him. Furthermore, most everybody who passed by spat on him. The council provided water to sustain him during the sentence, and near sundown on the third day, after being half dragged toward the gallows, the executioner put the rope around his neck. The head elder asked if he had any final words.

  Gylmyne looked at him and turned his sights to Darfus, who was standing at the back of the crowd.

  “It was worth it.” He smiled as if he were the Devil.

  Enraged, Darfus screamed and ran toward the gallows, just
then the executioner pulled the lever

  The rope clamped around his neck, and his legs kicked as his body swung back and forth. Moments later they were still, bringing to a shocking end the life of a man once revered throughout the village.

  Darfus fell to his knees as he cried out Talitha’s name. The elders approached Darfus and helping him to his feet escorted him to the chambers where they offered their condolences.

  The next day, Darfus was once again summoned to the elders chambers. Darfus appeared before the council with a heavy heart.

  “It took great courage and strength of heart to report what you did. Now we find ourselves in need of a new mayor, and we have unanimously decided to offer you the position. You have the qualities we believe will be necessary to lead us out of these dark times.”

  Darfus could hardly comprehend what he was hearing. Gone were his mother, sisters, and father.

  “I don’t know. It’s—”

  “A strong heart and strong moral fiber are necessary. We need to have a man admired for his truth and stance. We don’t know anyone else, Darfus, who could fill the position like we believe you can.”

  “I still don’t know. May I have time to consider?”

  “Yes,” replied the head elder, “take all the time you need.”

  Darfus turned and left, his thoughts jumbled. A week later, after consulting with his brothers, Darfus showed up ready to accept the duties and responsibilities as mayor of their village.

  Chapter 5

  Talitha had always liked the smell of newly turned earth, and now it was more vibrant than ever. After inhaling deeply, she delighted in the crisp air and the fragrance of the flowers. Even the colors appeared brighter. Talitha decided to wander the family grounds when she saw a man wave at her. Excited that there was someone who could finally see her, she ran toward the stranger excitedly as a thousand questions flooded her mind.

  “Talitha.”

  She stopped.

  “How did you know my name?”

  “I am Ventier, and I am here to guide you.”

  She looked at Ventier and tilted her head to the right.

  “What do you mean?”

  Ventier continued. “Do you understand what happened?”

  “Well,” she stammered. “Yes. I died. Is this where God is?”

  Ventier smiled at her naiveté.

  “No, you are between heaven and hell. Come, walk with me. I have something to tell you.”

  Talitha walked in silence with him as he continued to speak.

  “I fell in love with you a short while ago. Poor child, your brothers were too busy to care for you, and your father loathed you. Follow me below, and I’ll care for you for the rest of eternity.”

  Talitha stopped, seduced by his words.

  “What do you mean by ‘follow you below’”? Talitha asked.

  “Come, I will show you. Let’s dance first.”

  Ventier stretched out his hand and beckoned Talitha to dance. With trepidation, she took his hand as a rush of emotion and fear overwhelmed her. Somewhere, she heard a lute, the melody played over and over, flowing up, subsiding, and then leveling out. It reminded her of one Darfus used to play. He looked at Talitha in the eyes. She saw his eyes grow greener and brighter. She immediately began to feel herself being pulled to Ventier. She felt as if she could not refuse anything from him. It was almost a beckoning of power being taken from her.

  Placing his hand in the middle of Talitha’s back he lifted her hips to meet his. Unable to deny him when his hand found the buttons on her dress, it was only a moment before her dress slid off her shoulders and dropped into a pile at her feet. Clad just in a barbette headdress, she shivered as he helped her step from her dress.

  “We should not do this. I must wait until I am betrothed,” said Talitha uneasily. Again, Ventier looked into her eyes and again Talitha stood transfixed.

  A low, audible gasp emanated from Ventier’s lips as he gazed upon Talitha.

  “Aiiiii.”

  He appraised her as one might when considering the purchase of livestock. Candidly. Directly. Honestly. Talitha squirmed since no man had ever looked at her in such a way. Ventier walked around her, his left arm across his stomach, his right elbow rested on his left wrist. His left hand was in a loose fist as his right thumb supported his head.

  Talitha’s skin was creamy white, and her ankles were thin and dainty. The curve of her leg as she turned to keep him in her sight drove him mad. Her small breasts heaved as her respirations increased, fueling his passion. As Ventier lowered her to the ground, he began to kiss the softness of her lips and her neck. Slowly and intimately he stroked her body, touching first her breasts, then her hips and finally her sweetness. Talitha had never felt such intimacy before and her body called for more. Finally, as he lay on top of her, he pushed into her and suddenly felt a pleasurable desire run through her body. It was very unlike what Gylmyne had done to her. Soon the feeling of desire followed by warmth, engulfed her nether regions, then spread through the length of her body as Ventier used her for his pleasures.

  Even though she was astonished at what had just transpired, Talitha felt remorse, as if she had done something she should not have. Exhausted, spent, and self-conscious, she turned to look at him. Embarrassed that he was watching her as she dressed, Talitha fought a niggling thought that there was more to Ventier than she realized. Aware of her unease, he quickly covered up and extended his hand once more.

  She noticed the air was colder the further they walked. She had not thought of being hot or cold since she met Ventier, yet she was colder now and realized her skin had broken out in gooseflesh.

  Bringing a soul into the cold, dark, domain of his coven was Ventier’s favorite part. He reached out his arm to draw Talitha into his warmth. Up ahead in the distance, she saw the First Door and thought it odd to have a door in the middle of nowhere. As they drew closer, she tilted her head to the left, causing her hair to cascade off her right shoulder. Talitha hesitated before she timidly crossed to the other side.

  WHUMP!

  The door closed with such force it shook the ground. There was no echo of sound and an ominous quiver coursed through Talitha’s body. Not too far ahead was the outline of the Second Door. The surroundings had become void of foliage and the usual scents of earth, causing Talitha’s trepidation to grow. The truths she once held, turned against her. She looked at the sky and saw only blackness. She was lost in her thoughts as they arrived at the Second Door. Ventier opened it and led her to the other side.

  WHUMP!

  Talitha’s throat constricted as panic began to take over. Her heart pounded. She turned looking at Ventier. His good looks had disappeared. His hair was long, black, stringy, and appeared to have been unkempt. Talitha tried to pull away, but he roughly took her arm and dragged her forward as she tried to keep up with his hastened pace. Stumbling over her feet, Talitha looked up and saw the Third Door, which opened before they got there. She knew she was in real trouble now and was unable to stop the chain of events that were unfolding before her. This time, Ventier thrust her through to the other side.

  WHUMP!

  In a full panic now, Talitha again tried unsuccessfully to pull away from Ventier. She tried to think of positive thoughts, in the hope they would reverse the path she was on. She thought of Darfus and her older brothers. She thought of the joyful times they had had when their father wasn’t home. She remembered the warm sun on her back as she tended her garden. Unfortunately, her fears only grew stronger and culminated with a disturbing discovery ahead.

  There was a Fourth Door.

  This one didn’t look the same as other three. It was a black, sinister, double door, made of metal, surrounded by metal spikes, symbols, and what appeared to be writing adorning it. Even though Talitha couldn’t read or write, she’d never seen such writing before. The door opened as they came closer, and the stale, putrid smell made its assault on her nose and lungs, causing her stomach to revolt. It was worse than
the time her brothers had brought home a bear and the meat had spoiled before they could cure it.

  Talitha turned to Ventier and thought his eyes appeared to flash a bright red. She took two steps back, but he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her back to his side.

  “Steady little one,” he cautioned.

  “Where are you taking me? Please stop this! I don’t want to go!”

  “You will go where I take you. You are going to Darvakius,” he responded.

  Each coven had their own name and Darvakius was the given name to this coven, the name meant ‘Evil place of fires’.

  Talitha wasn’t sure, but something told her they had neared the end of their journey. The door creaked as it finished opening, and she was unable to will her feet forward. She realized that Ventier wasn’t beside her anymore and made a quick move to run. However, at that moment, he shoved her from behind. She tried to fight against him but was no match for Ventier’s strength. Her body fell through the open door, and her head was thrown back, then forward, violently. She braced herself for the fall, and as her knees hit the ground, she rolled to her right, just as the door slammed closed. She heard the scrape of the door.

  WHUMP!

  Chapter 6

  Her knees were on fire as she had fallen hard on them. She tried to pick herself up, but she was frightened so badly she collapsed. She turned to look for Ventier but realized he had not entered with her. It was very dark, and her eyes were slow to adjust. What terrified her more than anything, was what she heard. There was a terror that hid under cover of darkness that kept her paralyzed with fear. She could hear whispers and hisses of an unseen menace.

  Finally, after her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could see what she had been hearing. Men were whispering maliciously, as they leered at her. There were tall men and short men, and men of every size, shape, and color; and they all possessed the same malevolent look. Where their pupils once had been, there were now only red slivers, as their eyes had long ago adapted to the absence of light. They always liked it when new blood came in, especially when it looked as delicious as Talitha.