Malcolm Connory the Bastard

4

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Looking at the man Jason had begun to grow into, Crall didn't have a single thought of regret of taking him in and raising him. He was so proud to call him his son.

" Thanks for helpin' the boy bring the deer in Willem. Why don't you stay for dinner while Jason skins it and we'll make a stew out of the deer."

"Of course old friend, any excuse to have some of your wonderful stew. It'll be nice to catch up as well." Willem pulled a rickety oak chair from the dining table set near the center of the room and sat down across from his friend. Jason went outside and took his worn belt knife from his hip, and set to skinning the animal carcass.

Ferstied's tomorrow. I should try to clean up, Sarah and Aaron will be there too and we can see if we can trade for any goods the merchants bring in.

Sarah and Aaron were Jason's closest friends, and he'd known them almost as long as he could remember. Aaron was the son of the village's healer. Tall, gangly, and pale, Aaron had shot up like a tree in the past few years. His blond hair hung in front of his face, in an attempt to hide the spectacles he wore. They had been specially made by Denn as a gift to Aaron's family for helping cure his daughter Sarah of a blight that had killed off a large group of villagers a few years back. Soft spoken, Aaron was a kind soul and had trouble stomaching a healers' often bloody work.

If Aaron was a hearthfire though, then Sarah was a blazing bonfire. Daughter of Denn Collins, the blacksmith, she was just as fiery as her father's forge. Her body sometimes seemed to barely be able to contain her abrasive nature. Long tresses of deep auburn colored hair trailed down her back, always free flowing just like her opinions and thoughts.

Heat rose to his cheeks at the thought of Sarah, Jason had slowly realized a growing interest in his childhood friend over the past year or so. Where once he had seen the tomboy girl who was just as likely to smile at you as punch you, now…. He didn't know what to think of her anymore. Shaking his head to rid it of that particular line of thought, he sheathed his knife and stood, looking down at his grimy sweat and blood-stained clothes.

Speaking of Sarah, I still need to get my arrowhead fixed by Denn. Might as well clean up and look presentable before heading over.

"Da', I'm gonna go down to the river and wash before I bring my arrowhead to Denn. Deer's cleaned and skinned out here when you need it."

Shouting to his father, he waited for a second until he heard an affirmative grunt from the house, then jogged to the stream a few miles away which farther upstream ran the waterwheel of the mill. Panting, he sat down and stuck his feet in the water, relishing the feeling of the cool water running over his sore feet. His reflection stared back at him, jet black hair hanging from his head. His face was composed of sharp angles and gaunt lines from a life of malnourishment. Verdant green eyes like pools of liquid emerald sat set back behind his thick set brows. He sat there for many minutes, relaxing and dozing until the *snap* of a twig behind him made him sit up.

"Who's there?" He looked back, and saw five people approaching. Each of the blurry shapes clarified as they broke free of the trees, all with a bottle in hand.

Shit. It's Malcolm Connory and his cronies. Looks like they're all drunk as well from all the stumbling about they're doing. Time to leave and hope they didn't notice me.

Jason could still remember the first time he and Malcolm had met. He had only been around the age of ten, walking down a forest path in the middle of the day. Malcolm and his crew of friends, all almost to their day of maturity at that time, had found him alone and beat him half to death just for fun. It took him the rest of the day just to drag himself back home and he had been bedridden for months. Aaron's father said it was absolutely astounding that he was alive at all from how many broken bones he had. Thing was, no one was going to blame Malcolm for anything. His family was what essentially passed for royalty in the village. They owned half the farms and ran a carpentry shop which was renowned for miles around for it's fine craftsmanship. The king himself had ordered his dining chairs from them.

Coming back to the present, he rushed to his feet and grabbed his shoes trying to put them on as fast as he could.

"Heyyyy there kid, where you going."

Shit.

Not looking towards the group fast approaching, Jason heard the slurring in Malcolm's words and wasn't planning to stick around long enough to see what they would do to him this time.

I sure as hell couldn't fight them, even in their inebriated state, they're all far stronger and taller than me from a life of full meals and a meaty diet only available to the richest. Sticking around and talking is just asking for trouble.

He stood, and put two feet forward starting to run before something hit him between the shoulder blades and splintered. Wetness soaked through the back of his simple rough sack cloths.

"What's the big rush buddy? Ain't polite to run off when your elders are speaking to you."

Jason scrambled on the ground, panic starting to set root in his heart as Malcolm and the other approached with glazed eyes and lazy smiles. His hand landed on a piece of broken glass, slicing open his right palm. He flinched in pain, and tried to stand up when a foot slammed into his ribcage, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Another followed, and another, the blows seeming to come from every direction at once. They beat on him mercilessly. Jason's vision began to fade, his whole body aflame with pain.

I'm actually going to die. They couldn't finish me off last time so they've come to do it right this time. Serves me right for being so stupid and letting myself get caught off guard like that. I won't ever be able to say goodbye to Dad, or Aaron and Sarah.

Tears streamed down his face, accepting his fate. All of the sudden the blows stopped. Between snatches of breath that burned in his broken chest, he heard voices from far away like he was underwater. He opened his eyes. Vision blurry, he wasn't sure of what he was seeing until he caught sight of an indistinct auburn haired figure.

No. nononono, what's Sarah doing here. I need to get up, tell her to get away before they see her. There's no telling what they'll do to her in the state that they're in.

Jason tried to speak, inwardly screaming at his inability to talk. His jaw had been fractured in the fight and all he could manage was a few muffled grunts through the swelling of his face. His hearing, along with his sight, came back slowly, though it was more of a curse than a blessing. He heard Sarah speaking.

"Did you do this to him! Just wait till I tell the Town Council how you treat people. You'll rot in a cell for years, I've waited forever to throw you away, but this does it. You and your friends." She spat. "Can be damn well sure I'll spill every crime I've heard tell of you. Move, I need to bring Jason to the healer."

She tried to push past Malcolm, but he threw his arm out to the side, blocking her from proceeding. His eyes took on a more predatory glint as the others in the group started to circle Sarah. She tried to push past him, more firmly this time. He caught her wrist in his meaty palms and clenched it.

"Malcolm, you shithead, let me go before I scream bloody murder and call the whole town here, just try me!"

"Oh I don't think you'll be doing anything Sarah. See, I've been waiting a long time to tell how we feel about you too. You always act so stuck up and preachy, thinking you can do whatever you want. Always rejecting my advances and gifts. Let me tell you, any woman who thinks she's too good for me is in for a lesson, and you've had yours a long time coming."

He clamped a hand over her mouth, and squeezed tighter on her wrist causing tears to well up in her eyes, clearing enjoying the pain he was inflicting.

" Not so strong anymore huh? Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled as if he had said something original.

" Let me tell you, the town beggar," he looked over at Jason, " is the least of your concerns right now. I …. You bitch!"

His arm jerked back and he cradled his hand roaring in pain. Sarah had bitten into Malcolm's hand so forcefully that pieces of muscle underneath the skin had been torn out, and his hand was bleeding profusely. Darting forward, she slipped past Malcolm and sprinted over to Jason.

"Jason, can you hear me?" He grunted in affirmation. " We need to leave, I'm going to try and pick you up, help out as much as you can."

She slid an arm under his shoulders, straining as she heaved him off the ground. Trying to support his weight, Jason put his feet down on the ground. Even with Sarah's help, the pain was all consuming as they moved forward at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Come on, keep pushing, we have to keep moving."

Sarah panted between snatches of breath. They stumbled into the cold waters of the rivers, forcing their way across through the knee deep and freezing cold water. Making it up onto the muddy bank, they went a few more feet before Sarah tripped over a root in the mud and they both stuttered and hit the ground. The pain was too much for Jason, and as he lay in the cold mud, shouting heard from across the river and the splashing of water as Malcolm's group began to cross, his consciousness slipped away.

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His eyes cracked open, barely slits from the swelling on his face. Some time had passed, and the stars shone in the sky, bright and luminescent on the clear night. He tried to move his body to flip onto his back, but then the pain, momentarily forgotten, rushed back to him. It was a long time before he could attempt to open his eyes again, and when did he was confused by what he saw. A form floated in his field of vision. It was Aaron.

"Jason. JASON! Oh shit what happened to you?"

He touched Jason's shoulder lightly, frantically looking into his friend's eyes, taking in the broken shape of his limbs and chest. He started to ramble on again, but then looked up and simply stopped, his face pale like he'd just eaten a bucketful of sclervine, a common plant that grew on the tall spruce trees of the north, which was put into medications to help with inflammation but had the side effect of causing fainting spells on the patient. A sense of wrongness crept up on Jason's mind. He wanted to ask his friend, who was usually as unflappable as an oak in the wind, what could be so horrible that he had gone speechless. He grunted, trying to get Aaron's attention.

Aaron's head whipped down towards him, momentary shock at whatever he had seen fading as he once more assessed his friend's injuries. His forehead wrinkled, lip set in a straight line as his momentary shock was forgotten and his training set in. This was far beyond anything he would be able to handle. If Jason were to be saved he would need help and soon.

"Wait here, I have to get my dad. I'll be right back I swear,I...j-just stay put I'm going to get you help."

He took one last look at his friend, then turned quickly and started sprinting for the town proper. His mind started to wander, to look back at the scene burned into his mind that was behind Jason, that he didn't think he would ever go a day in his life without seeing again. Sarah, lying on the ground, body twisted and mangled like a grotesque parody of a contortionist's act. Still and cold as the frost of a windless morning, so like the echoing in his own heart.

There was a fire, and Jason was warm, so different from the freezing mud he remembered from what seemed to him like just seconds ago. A man was sitting by the fire, broad shoulders hitching as he cried softly, tears hissing as they hit the paved stone on which the hearth laid. His head hung as he sat, cradling a long lock of auburn hair bound together with a red piece of silk. Another man, this one whipcord thin, came into the room and laid a hand on the bigger man's shoulder. The crackle of the fire lulled Jason to sleep once again, as he slept blissfully into sleep.

A hand was tapping his shoulder. He opened his eyes slowly. Sunlight streamed through an open window next to the cot he way lying on. Jason turned to look towards the person tapping on him. It was Aaron's father Ellian.

" Glad to see you up and awake again Jason. Feeling any better?"

Jason nodded, his muscles stiff, as if he hadn't ever moved before and was just learning to control his body.

" Good. I need you to follow my finger." Ellian waved his hand in front of Jason's face first left, then right, Jason's eyes following the trail the whole way.

"I think the worst of the damage is past. You're in the clear, no lasting damage to the head it seems.There's a bowl of venison stew next to you on the stand."

A shadow crossed his face and he seemed to age years in a moment.

"Let me go get Aaron, he was out in garden last I remember."

He got up, turning to leave. In that moment, it all rushed back to Jason, the creek, Malcolm and his cronies beating him senseless. Sarah.

"Ellian wait! What happened, where's Sarah? Is she-"

Ellian cut him off with the tired wave of his hand and spoke quietly, turned away from Jason.

"It's not my right or place to tell you what…. what happened to Sarah. Aaron can explain more, just… just give me a moment to get him."

Ellian walked out of the room, the creak of his and Aaron's old birch wood door announcing his departure.

Jason sat there, frantically going from thought to thought, his mind making connections as the catastrophe of the situation set in. There was another creak of the door, and Aaron drifted in, slow steps seeming to drag as if weights were attached to his ankles.

"Aaron, what happened? How'd you find me? Where��s Sarah…." He trailed off, not sure how to proceed.

"Jason. Sarah's…. She's gone. Oh gods she was so mangled when I found you I almost couldn't recognize her. Malcolm and his friends-" he spit on the ground " they killed her for trying to save you, and for fighting back when they tried to stop her. She was buried three weeks ago…. you've been unconscious for almost a month… I…. I don't know what's going to happen next. The King's sent us a magistrate, and Malcolm will go to trial but… I don't think he'll have to face any consequences for what he's done. His family is wealthy as all hell, and with King Garon ordering all of his woodwork, paper, and logs from them... well, there's nothing we can do."

Aaron started to cry, tears running in slow rivulets down his face.

"I don't know what to do anymore Jason, everything's been so confusing since Sarah passed and with you in a coma I couldn't convince the magistrate to bring you to the capital to be held as a witness. I wish we could just leave, but there's nothing we can do, we don't have any resources, or transportation, and the capital's at least a week's ride from here. The judge will have already ruled before we even get there."

Jason sat in stunned silence for a moment, reflecting on what Aaron had said.

"No." he met Aaron's eyes.

"What do you mean no Jason, Sarah's dead and buried and Malcolm's gone off to the capital. There's no use living in deni-"

"No, I don't mean that," Jason cut in, "I meant that I won't allow Malcolm to use his power and money to get away with the murder of Sarah."

A spark of anger and guilt began to build in his mind, thoughts of Malcolm beating Sarah as he lay in the mud, helpless to stop the death of one of his closest friends happening right in front of him. His anger and guilt climbed higher, building to a crescendo, images of Sarah beaten and broken screaming into his mind. He would make that son of a bitch pay. He'd make sure that Malcolm bled for everything he had done to him, he wanted to see the look of fear on his face as he slit his thr-

"J-Jason?"

He started, realizing that Aaron was still sitting on the chair, eyes wide and arms gripping the sides so hard his knuckles were white. Something warm slid down his fingers and dripped to the floor, adding to a small puddle forming on the boards. Jason looked down, and realized, with a detached sort of concern, that his hand had clenched so tightly that his fingernails had broken the skin, and little rivulets of blood ran off his palms, dripping like the tears he felt running down his cheeks. He spoke, staring off through the window into the distance beyond.

"I'm leaving tomorrow as soon as the sun rises. I'm going to make Malcolm pay for what he did if it's the last thing I do. Come if you want to, I don't care either way, I'll hunt him to the ends of the earth if that's what it takes. It's the only way I can honor Sarah's memory." He put a foot forward, beginning to walk towards the door.

"Jason...If you wanted to honor Sarah you'd stay here and mourn her with the rest of the village, help out with the other townsfolk, it's what she would want. Please, don't do this, it's absolute madness...what do you expect to happen? He's basically royalty, he either has his friends or guards with him at all times. Add to that fact that he's under suspicion of the law, everyone will be looking for his comings and goings. There's no way you have a shot at getting near enough to hurt him. Please, just take a moment to sit down and think it over. "

Aaron pleaded with Jason, a touch of desperation creeping into his voice. He reached out a hand for his friend's shoulder. Jason swatted it away with a backward sweeping gesture without even looking.

" I leave tomorrow. You can find me by the waterwheel if you want to come."

He turned, and padded out the house, door creaking as it shut behind him. Aaron sighed, thinking to himself that never had his life seemed more complicated. He grabbed a washcloth from a nearby shelf to clean Jason's blood from the floor. Bending down, he froze. Where Jason's blood should have been, a small ring of blackened wood now stained the otherwise perfectly clean floor.