Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 1

THE RISE OF THE FALLEN
CHAPTER ONE
Avalon ran as fast as she could, trying to make it to the tavern before it was too late. The rumours that were flying around couldn’t be true but deep down she knew they were. She caught glimpses of women scurrying away with their little ones. The horror on some of the younger children’s faces was all she needed to know to confirm her own nightmares. She doubled her pace with a new surge of speed. Her stomach twisted into a knot of worry. Out of all the times she had been frightened in the past it didn’t quit hurt as much as it did then. She prayed silently that it wasn’t her brother being imprisoned, that it was some stranger she didn’t know. Her prayers gave her little comfort though; she knew why he was being taken by the king’s men. So did everyone else.
You see, a disease had suddenly spread only months before; a disease that killed woman, men, children and livestock by starting off as a fever and then slowly it rotted the flesh off of their bones. It left nothing untouched. There had already been an unaccountable amount of deaths among the townspeople, mostly the peasants and poor farmers that couldn’t afford the cure. There was a cure and yet the man who owned it sold it to the highest bidder. The price always ranged more than the common folk and a few of the lesser lords could afford. Countless lives had been lost that could have been saved with the mixture of expensive herbs left to sit in a dusty safe hold. The man who possessed the cure was none other than King Tergin. Her mother’s miraculous recovery from the disease wasn’t just a streak of luck. No, her brother had snuck into the castle without permission and he had stolen the cure that was worth more than many lives. Avalon remembered begging him to forget the foolish idea. She had pleaded in vain. Now, he was being taken for his crime and she knew she could do nothing about it. He would die, that was the sacrifice for her mother’s life.
He had told her that he had to leave home. He knew that the king’s hunters were after him. He had dodged them all the way from the castle. After giving her the cure that he had stolen for their mother, he vanished with no warning. He didn’t want the hunters to find his family. He knew that if he was found in their presence, it would be the death of them also.
She opened the tavern door with shaky hands. The scene before her made the blood drain from her face; the knots in her stomach grew. There knelt Keth being bound hand and foot in shackles by a royal bounty hunter. His face was bloody and bruised. A few of the guards turned their heads at her entrance. One of them whispered something to the bounty hunter, causing him to look behind him, directly at Avalon.
A shiver went down her spine, “What right do you have to arrest him?” she demanded barely above a whisper. She tried to make her voice sound confident but her attempt had failed hopelessly.
The bounty hunter ignored her question, instead, he asked her a question of his own, “Are you the one he used the cure on?”
He had a much stronger build, far stronger than she. He could overpower her within seconds. He was dressed in black leather pants and shirt with studded leather boots. He wore a black cloak with the emblem representing a royal bounty hunter, working for the king or some other minion that could pay a high price. The hood of the cloak was drawn over his head, but, it did not stop her from noticing his penetrating black eyes that bore into her own. He was a sight to give even the fearless of people the edge of caution.
Her gaze wandered to Keth, he was frightened for her, more frightened for her life than his own. He shook his head so lightly that only she could have noticed it. He was warning her, telling her to choose her next words wisely, “No.”
The bounty hunter grunted before turning back to Keth, “Is she telling the truth?”
“Yes,” he replied forcing himself to meet the man’s eyes.
The man’s eyebrows rose in surprise, “So you admit that you stole the cure?”
Keth hesitated, he was aware that he had been seen by a servant as he left the king’s safe hold. He was aware that he had been identified, there was no use trying to conceal the truth. He had been waiting for this day for weeks now. He knew that no matter how much hiding he did, he would eventually be caught. All fugitives of the empire were, all but the legendary rangers.
Rangers were banished from all of Darankia. Years ago they had been allies to the kingdom. That was until the heir to the throne, Prince Tergin, gained the authority after the assassination of his father. His hatred for one ranger in particular, named Emereck, nurtured his rage to wipe out all connections with them. He ordered his men to kill every one of the rangers, whether they were loyal or not, he did not care. A war brewed between the two forces and death was dealt out for both sides. This battle is now called The Forsaken Fallen. The remaining rangers went into hiding calling themselves The Brand. Now years later, the very existence of them is but a dim memory.
Ma was safe and healthy that’s all he asked for. That’s all he cared about. His eyes met the man’s, he answered, “Yes.”
“Excellent. You are a wise young man. No use causing yourself any more trouble than what is necessary. It is a shame, of course, that you chose this path. You would have made good material for the king’s army.”
“Stop,” Avalon said, trying to steady her voice. It was hard. Her voice was ready to crack at any moment. Drawing her sword, she approached the hunter. She knew she was out matched but she didn’t care. She was ready to die for her brother.
It wasn’t the threatening black blade that peered up at her from his side that made her double guess her actions. It was the fact that he sat there, staring at her. No, not staring, daring her to make a move. His men began to close in but he waived them away.
Heart pounding, she remained where she was. Her blade pointed at his chest. She wondered if she could kill him before he could draw his sword. The way he sat there, so sure of his safety made her feel queasy. Then suddenly he whipped his hand out and gripped her arm so hard that she had no choice but to drop her weapon. It fell to the ground with a clatter. So fast were his actions she hardly had time to defend herself.
He forced her to her knees, drew his sword and rested it underneath her chin. She felt the cold metal pressed up against her throat. He stared at her through scrutinizing eyes, “If I’m followed, I will have no qualms about killing you. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal clear,” her voice cracked. She dared not move. If she did, his weapon would cut her. He gave her one last long stare before retreating.
He pushed Keth forward none too kindly, causing him to nearly collide into Avalon. He was then dragged out of the tavern by two guards. By the looks on their faces, Keth was no light load. He was not over weight but he did have a solid build that would cause a few aching shoulders. If they would have just let them walk they would have saved themselves much trouble but they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to make an example of him.
Avalon watched helplessly as he was being physically beaten by the men. She wish she could stop them but she knew the only way to help Keth would be to wait. Wait until it wasn’t a losing battle. She would see him again, whether it be in the afterlife or not.
“What will happen to him?” she asked.
The remaining guards began to chuckle but the bounty hunter gave no sign of amusement. His face held a grave motionless expression, “That is up to the king to decide but I will tell you one thing. Death would be a reward, after he is done with him he will be wishing he was never born.”
Her body began to tremble. He was so sure, so positive. She felt as if her world was just beginning to be built and now someone was tearing it apart with no mercy. She blinked back the tears that stung her eyes; she wouldn’t let them see her cry. She refused to give them the pleasure to see her more helpless. The man lowered his gaze and brushed past her. He issued a few orders to the guards who were still drinking their fill of mead. They quickly gulped down the remaining alcohol and rushed outside, only a few spared her a glance of pity.
They hauled her brother to a wagon and shoved him in there, securing his shackles to an iron chain. The wagon looked as if it were meant for caging the most ferocious animal known out there. To the king, it was only imprisoning another pesky peasant who held less respect than a flea. She could no longer hold her tears; they flowed down her cheeks like a current. She met her brother’s gaze, his eyes were proud. He wasn’t ashamed of his crime. He was glad to have done what he did. If given the chance he would have done it again.
He was standing and blood was running down through his hair. His hands were gripping the cage for support and his brown eyes were memorizing the town he had grown up in. He knew he wasn’t coming back.
As the wagon drove away he gazed at her without a single tear on his face. He was brave, much braver than she. “Take care of Ma for me, would you?”
She wanted to run to him, to help him escape. She knew it was of no use, they would just throw her in there like a caged animal. What’s the matter with slaughtering a few peasants; after all, there were millions more out there. No, she had to return home and tell mother and father what had happened. She had to inform them that they would no longer have a son.
She stared after them even after they had disappeared from view. He was gone, that was all she could think about. Her brother was gone. Finally, when the sky began to darken, a hand touched her shoulder lightly. It was only then that she realized the townspeople were watching her. Some watched with pity evident on their face and others looked at her with suspicion. The crowd was made up of mostly men, a few women who didn’t have children to take care of and the odd pesky child who escaped from his mother’s protective arms.
Darius, the smith of Javen, stood behind her. For as long as she remembered he had always been a good family friend. He was something close to an uncle to her. He had been there from the beginning. There was more than one time that he offered a hand with the many chores of running a farm, while only taking a fair portion of the crop. He even took Keth on as an apprentice for a few years to instruct him in the many arts of blacksmithing. There was never a time that Avalon didn’t feel as if she could trust him with her secrets. Only now did she realize there was nothing that even he could do to help her brother. Keth’s life depended upon a higher authority, an authority that demanded his death.
He was looking down at her with pity, “Come along now Ava, there is nothing more you can do. Your folks couldn’t have heard the news. They aren’t close enough to have heard the rumours that are going about.” He was of average height but he was as thick and muscled as most smiths. His tone was solemn, but this was usual. He always was serious and realistic.
“I know,” she said softly. He was right as always, there was nothing she could do,
Darius sighed, “He chose, Avalon, he chose to sacrifice his life for your mother’s. Who knows perhaps King Tergin will find mercy somewhere in his heart.”
Avalon looked up and said bitterly, “The king doesn’t have a heart.”
The crowd began to disperse. It was getting late and the excitement was over. A few people came to give her their sympathies. She tried to keep a straight face for them but the tears were pressing down on her like currents.
A silence grew between them before Darius began to depart saying, “The soldiers took your horses for the men to ride. Apparently, they were attacked by bandits and two of their horses were killed. Go now and borrow the chestnut in the far stall. His name is Baefire.”
“Thank-you,” she whispered. Another tear slid down her face.