Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 1.1 *Revised*

The Rise of The Fallen

Chapter One

Avalon ran as fast as she could, her breath coming in ragged gasps and her knees threatening to collapse. The rumors that were flying around couldn’t be true, but deep down she knew they were. The excitement and horror of the younger children’s faces confirmed her nightmares.

Please, God, let him be alive.

She doubled her pace, ignoring the ache settling in her gut. Out of all the times she had been frightened, her heart never held as much pressure as it did then. She prayed that it wasn’t her brother, instead some stranger she didn’t know. Her prayers gave her little comfort though. She knew why it was happening and so did everyone else.

She opened the tavern door with shaky hands. The scene before her made the blood drain from her face; the knots of worry in her gut grew. Keth was on his knees, his hands and feet bound with only his pride keeping him from crumpling to the ground. A large gash ran from the middle of his forehead and down his right eyebrow. Blood gushed from the wound, streaming down the side of his face and pooling into his stained tunic.

At her entrance, a few of the guards turned in her direction. Recognition flashed through one of their eyes and he bent over, whispering something to a man dressed in black leather with an emblem representing a royal bounty hunter, the king’s chosen right hand man. The hood of his cloak was drawn low over his head but that did not stop her from noticing his penetrating black eyes that bore into her own. He was a sight to give even the most fearless of people the edge of caution.

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 had failed hopelessly.

The bounty hunter’s eyes flickered from her to Keth, suddenly a cold smile lit his face, “I have every right, Woman.”

He had a much stronger build, far stronger than she and she had no doubt that he could overpower her within seconds. Her gaze wandered to Keth, he was frightened for her, more frightened for her life than his own. He stared at her, a mixture of shock and regret could be seen through his clouded features.

The hunter unsheathed his dagger that lay at his hip and rested the tip under Keth’s chin, “Now that I have someone you care about in my reach,” he said, his eyes level with his, “where is that tonic?”

Keth tensed, forcing himself to look away from Avalon and meet the man’s gaze, “I don’t know this woman,” he said.

The man raised his eyebrow in disbelief, “No?”

Without a moment’s notice he crossed the room in two strides and gripped Avalon’s arm, pulling her to him with his blade at her throat. She could feel his breath on her neck as he spoke, “Than it won’t matter to you if I kill her?”

Her heart skipped a beat in panic but she didn’t dare move. She could feel droplets of blood dripping from the pressure of the blade and any movement could kill her. This man was not a man you’d want to trifle with.

“Stop,” Keth cried, fear rising in his throat. His arm was outstretched as he rose to stand. One of the soldiers kicked his feet from under him and he collapsed to the ground. “I know her,” he gasped, the taste of blood filling his mouth as it ran from his nose, “she’s my sister.”

The hunter’s grin widened, “Excellent,” he said, removing the blade but keeping his grip on her firm. He dragged her resisting figure and passed her to one of his men, ignoring the string of curses she passed his way.

“Where is the cure?” the man asked, his voice low and dangerous.

Keth stared at him, hatred burning in his eyes. He jutted his jaw forward, refusing to lose his dignity as well, “You swear you will not harm her in any way?” he asked, nodding in Avalon’s direction.

“On my mother’s grave,” he answered, his lips turned in a sneer.

This can’t be happening.

Avalon wide eyed, stared at the man she called her brother. He was going to throw away their mother’s life for her. “No,” Avalon shrieked, “Keth you can’t!”

He ignored her, not even casting a reassuring gesture her way. He knew what he was doing and it pained him to do it, “It is in my chamber.”

The bounty hunter raised a questioning eyebrow, “My men searched.”

“Not well enough,” he said a pleased smirk on the edge of his lips, “It is hidden under a loose floorboard below my bed.”

“You won’t be so smug when you’re in the gutters rotting away until the day of your judgement,” the hunter sneered, waiving his men to check where Keth had said. Only the one containing Avalon stayed behind, watching the exchange with an amused grin.

“It will be no different than now,” Keth retorted, despair filling his heart, “Your king watches his people die of the plague while he hogs the only antidote to himself and all of his rich friends.”

Avalon winced as the hunter struck him, his blow adding yet another bruise to his face. “Do not be disrespectful toward our king or I’ll have you killed here and now in front of your kin’s eyes.”

Keth gritted his teeth, forcing his hatred from doing more damage. He cast an apologetic look toward Avalon and she knew he was worried for her safety.

The pounding of the soldier’s steps announced their return before they were in sight. A middle aged man approached the king’s man, handing him a satchel. The hunter peeked inside, an icy smirk on his lips.

“Let’s go,” he said, inclining his head at the man restraining Avalon to free her.

He pushed Keth to his feet in rough, jerky movements. Two guards took an arm and dragged from the tavern. By the look on the soldiers’ faces, he was no light load. He was not overweight but he did have a solid build that would cause a few aching shoulders. If they would have only let him walk they would have saved themselves much trouble, but they wouldn’t miss the opportunity to make an example of him.

Avalon watched as the hunter turned his back to leave- the hatred burning in her was too much. She drew her sword and lunged at him, she imagined his sneering face curled into a pained, lifeless form that couldn’t murder innocent children any longer. Just as she thought she had him by surprise, he turned, his sword in the air deflecting the attack. As she came to strike at him once more he twisted his sword around hers and wrenched it free from her grasp.

Heart pounding, she remained where she was. His blade pointed at her chest. He took her by the hair and forced her to her knees. She felt his cool, black blade pressed against her chest and she stared at him boldly, willing to die for her brother.

He glowered at her through scrutinizing eyes, “I’m warning you once,” he said, his voice cold and dangerous, “If I’m followed, I will have no qualms about killing you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal clear,” her voice cracked.

He gave her one last, long stare before retreating.

“What will happen to him?” she asked.

The remaining guard 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,” he replied, “but I will tell you one thing. Death would be a reward, once he is finished 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.

Avalon followed them outside, watching as 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 memorized 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?” he gave her a reassuring smile.

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.

I must get back to my mother. I must tell her she will no longer have a son.

She stared after them long after they had disappeared from view. He was gone, that was all she could think about. Her brother was gone.

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 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 in pity, “Come along now, Ava, there is nothing more you can do.” 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 kept flowing.

A silence grew between them before Darius began to depart saying, “It is a long walk home and the soldiers took your horse as well as many others for the king’s army. Go now and borrow the chestnut in the far stall. His name is Baefire.”

“Thank-you,” she whispered.