Rise of the Fallen: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The horse’s hooves hit the ground, making that familiar rhythm of a horse galloping. There was a young lady astride a chestnut mare, her hair flowing behind her as she rode against the wind. Her green eyes were filled to the brim with tears. Together they seemed to be one as they rode in a steady pace, galloping across the fields, placing a fair distance between the town and her. It didn’t take long before a familiar sight beheld her eyes. A lone house stood ahead of her with a couple of small broken-down barns, large enough to shelter a couple of horses and a few other livestock. It didn’t appear to be much but it was home all the same. It was the place she had built many memories of her family life.She was home.

She sensed something was wrong before she dismounted. First off, there was no light in the house to welcome her home. The door to one of the barns was wide open and there was no sound of any of the animals. Also, whenever Mark or she came home late Pa had always stayed out on the porch, waiting for them to return.He could never sleep without knowing they were safe. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Tauriel rushed inside of the house in panic. The house looked as if it had been searched very thoroughly. Pieces of furniture had been cut and its stuffing was strewn across the floor. Valuables had been broken or taken. Every cupboard was opened and the things inside were shattered.Nothing was left untouched.

She was scared; more frightened then an animal fleeing its predator. Did the soldiers come for her mother too? After all, the bounty hunter was asking whether or not it was she who had been cured. She disregarded the idea, he had asked out of mild curiosity.Besides, they wouldn’t have bothered pocketing the few measly valuables they had. She then thought of what Darius had said; the soldiers took your horses for the men to ride. Apparently, they were attacked by bandits and two of their horses were killed.

The bandits must have found their house and decided it would make good prey. But that still didn’t explain the disappearance of her parents. She hadn’t seen any bodies around and the bandits wouldn’t bother covering up their crimes. There were too many of them to be afraid of an unexpected attack by the townspeople or any other group. Perhaps her parents had gone for a ride and while they were gone bandits searched the area for valuables.

She was confused. There were so many questions she had but no one to answer them. Furthermore, she wasn’t sure what to do or where to go. She couldn’t stay for fear of soldiers or bandits returning and because the sort of event that had happened usually attracts unwanted attention. Then again where would she go, she knew none of her relatives, that is, if she had any. She had made a few very reliable and trustworthy friends along the years but she didn’t want to endanger their lives by seeking refuge there.

In a fit of rage she stomped hard on her foot, causing the floor board to snap inward, revealing a small section of a hollow floor. She bent down and pulled upward on the board until it was free from the ground. Beneath it was a foot deep and a couple of feet long pit with a rag wrapped around an object which was half covered in dirt. Her breath seized as she unwrapped it, revealing a weapon of the best craftsmanship. It wasn’t just the dagger itself that awakened her curiosity; it was the jewels that were engraved onto the dagger.The beautiful, priceless jewels could have paid their debts ten times over and made them one of the wealthiest families in the entire kingdom;jewels that would have been able to pay for the cure to the plague and saved both her mother and brother.She slowly let her breath out as she turned it over in her hands, inspecting the craftsmanship with an awed expression. Whoever had made it had been very precise with every little detail. Then something caught her eye, something so small and delicately inscribed were words,

‘My dearest Amelia,

Take this in remembrance of me.

D.’

The dagger enhanced her confusion; how did her family come to pass to obtain something so precious? Who were Amelia and the mysterious D? Some would think it a meaningless valuable but to a peasant girl this was beyond a regular find. Thoughts began to pass through her mind; could she negotiate this for her brother’s life? Would the King accept such an heirloom?

Adrenaline rushed through her body without any warning. Quickly she packed a few belongings and other things that would be needed on her journey. She had made a decision without even realizing it; she wasn’t going to abandon her brother and no one was about to stop her. She planned on trading the dagger for his life.

Once she packed and refreshed Darius’s horse, Balefire, she decided to take a quick nap which turned out to be a few hours.By the time she awoke it was close to dawn. Not wanting to tire Balefire out before she made a reasonable distance she set off at a steady trot. He was a pleasant horse to ride; his strides were nice and smooth. It didn’t take long for her to bond to his beautiful spirited temperament. She enjoyed a horse with a mind of its own that is if it respected her and recognized her as its companion.

It had been a chilly morning to ride in and the sun had only begun to show during mid-afternoon. The heat that came from the rays of the sun warmed her and comforted her as she galloped across the hills that she had usually marveled at if ever she traveled with her father to a fair or festival. Now it was nothing but a blur as she concentrated on the speech she had replayed in her mind over and over that morning. She would have to be prepared for the plead she would issue on the king if she expected to succeed. She had never met the king; all she knew of him had come from stories.She hoped that it was only stories, for if they weren’t she was facing a heartless man with no mercy. Even so, she knew she had little chance of redeeming her family’s reputation even if she managed to free her brother.

The light was declining and a bed to sleep on overcame her anticipation; after a few sleepless nights the travel began to physically wear down on her body. There wasn’t an inch of her that didn’t have some sort of pain causing her discomfort. She decided to go and ask around to see if a band of soldiers had passed the town. She spotted a shabby looking inn and looked around for the stable boy, unable to see one she lead Balefire to one of the stalls. She brushed him down and fed him a portion of the hay sitting in a near corner. She remembered her father’s words as she did so, ‘Always treat your horse like a fellow companion, for he may one day be your lifesaver.’

Entering the inn, she noticed a band of men talking boisterously; they apparently hadn’t any care of the trouble they might cause. A few glances were cast her way as she entered and sat in a booth where her back would be against the wall. A pretty blonde waitress smiled at her in acknowledgement and signalled to her that she would be there in a few minutes.

While Tauriel waited, she noticed a man with a mottled grey-brown cloak; even though its hood was drawn over his face she could feel his piercing gaze directed straight at her. She shifted in her seat, slightly uneasy as she waited for the waitress to be done with her current customer. The thought of leaving had crossed her mind but she knew that it would only cause suspicion. Instead, she focused her gaze on her surroundings; the place wasn’t the stylish of inns but she did have to give credit to whoever cleaned the place. Despite the dirt that collects from people walking in and living in the inn, the place had certainly not been neglected from the everyday straightening. There was a stair case on the other side of the room that led up to a second floor; she assumed that it was where the residents slept at night.

“Could I get anything for you, miss?” the blonde waitress asked with a kind smile on her face. She looked to be in her late twenties, only a few years older than herself, but the lines under her eyes suggested that she may be much older than she looked. She wore a light blue top that complimented her eyes and a skirt that fell just below the knees. Her hair was done up in a simple bun with a loose strand that had escaped and settled on the side of her face.

“Rabbit stew with bread, please,” Tauriel replied.

After eating and renting a room, she decided to visit the pawnshop to see the worth of her dagger. She heard that the man who ran the local pawnshop had a code that he went by. Whatever you bring to him would not be spoken of to anyone and he apparently wasn’t the most honest of men so it wasn’t likely that he would go to the patrols if what you brought to him had been stolen. She decided this would be the best place to go to if she wanted to know the dagger’s worth.

***

The stranger eyed the woman through narrowed eyes; she had auburn hair without a single trace of a curl and emerald green eyes. Her skin was more of a darker shade. She wasn’t pretty but her features were striking. She bore an outstanding resemblance to someone he had known. It had startled him at first when she walked in, it still did in fact, but now he just wanted a few answers. No matter how many times he tried to ignore her, his eyes always seemed to wander back to her face. He could tell she had noticed him and was beginning to get tense and suspicious. He finished his stew as she paid for the meal and a room to sleep in for the night. He expected her to move her belongings into her room; instead, she cast one last wary glance at him before slipping out the inn door.

Waiving the waitress to him he handed her a few coppers for the meal before following the woman outside the inn. He went to the stables and noticed a mare that hadn’t been there before; he figured that it was hers. He was wondering where she had gone but then he saw her entering the pawnshop a little ways down the road. He followed her there and slipped in the back of the shop, he knew from past experience that the little man who owned the shop always dealt business in the back of the store. He hid behind one of the shelves that would suit his purposes of spying while hiding him from their view.

He listened to their muffled voices, waiting for the man to bring her to the back of the shop. A few minutes went by before he heard excited whispers escaping from the excite man’s lips. Whatever she had shown him, it had caused the pitch of his voice to raise a few notches. Not only that, but his anxiety quickened his pace to the back room. The woman and the pawn keeper entered the room where he was hiding; looking back and forth to reassure himself that no one was there. His eagerness to see what she had brought him had dulled his normal sense of caution.

“This is exquisite!” the pawn keeper exclaimed.

The woman nodded impatiently, “Yes, you keep saying. Do you know its worth, though?”

“No, not the exact pricing” he replied, “But it is worth more than all of the gold in the king’s safe hold. You might want to be careful to who you show this too.”

“I should have thought of that before,” she replied pointedly but the keeper didn’t seem to catch on.

“You will have every thief in this realm after you,” he continued to blabber.

The stranger’s curiosity had perked to the fullest, no matter which angle he tried to see it; it was always hidden from him. Then he saw it, the silver dragon like dagger with irreplaceable jewels engraved onto it. It struck him full blown; he had not expected it to be that weapon.First the woman’s profound resemblance to someone he had known, and now after all these years he is reunited with the cursed blade.

“Not if you hold to your word and never speak of this to anyone,” she said. Taking out a cloth, she wrapped the dagger into it and gently placed it into her pack.

“Yes, of course!” he replied, “Are you sure you aren’t willing to barter a deal with me? I have many valuables that might impress you more than this. I could, also, scratch up a potion or two that might help you along the road. Or perhaps a love potion, I’m sure you have someone you want to love you?”

The woman furrowed her eyebrows, “I intend to keep this. As you said yourself, this is worth more than the king’s safe hold.”

He smiled a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Of course. Is our business finished?”

“I believe so,” she replied.

The stranger waited for them to leave the room before sneaking out the back door. He had much to think about, including the plan that was forming in his mind. If he wanted answers then he was determined to get them.

***

The pawnshop keeper was halfway to becoming insane or her dagger was some exotic heirloom, she was willing to bet that it wasn’t the latter. It hadn’t turned out to be the most successful visit; she had brood more trouble for herself than anything. A little warning bell in her head had gone off the moment she showed the little man her treasure. She wouldn’t doubt that he would cause her some mischief along the way of her trip. From now on she decided to act like she was treading on eggshells. It wasn’t in her best interest to have a knife in the back before she reached twenty-six.

She went to the stables to check on Balefire, she noticed that the stable boy had returned to his job. From the smell of him he must have taken a visit to the local saloon. She nodded at him in acknowledgement; he scowled at her while taking a swig from his flask.

“Bad day?” Tauriel asked arching her eyebrows toward the flask.

“Yeah,” he grunted, “Damn rich bastards and their families.”

He made no inclination of continuing and she decided not to pursue the subject.

Despite being in a warm bed with a roof over her head, Tauriel couldn’t help but feel on edge. She imagined herself with a knife in the back, causing herself to shiver. It wasn’t only the thought of the pawn keeper that kept her up all night; it was also the man from the tavern. She had tried to look for him when she entered the inn but he seemed to have vanished. She hoped that he wouldn’t try to do anything funny for she sensed he would be a dangerous enemy.

The cold the next morning enhanced the aches and pains through her entire body. Three days of traveling had begun to wear down on her as her adrenaline met its match. She decided to leave at early dawn and get a head start. She was walking toward the stables when someone roughly grabbed her from behind. She was about to scream but whoever it was counted on it and covered her mouth with their hands, unmistakably male. Before she knew it, she was being dragged into a dark alley. She wriggled and kicked, even hitting her mark every once in a while, but it was too little avail. The man had her pinned and no matter which way she turned there was no escaping.

“Calm down, hun,” a raspy male voice whispered in her ear. “Promise not to scream and I’ll let you go.”

Tauriel was half tempted to chomp on his fingers; she had tried when he had been dragging her but trying to keep herself on her feet distracted her. Instead, she decided to give in and nodded. There was no use having his grubby fingers on her mouth any longer. He let go and she thought about screaming bloody murder but she knew no one would hear her, that’s why he chose that place.

He grunted, “That’s a first,” he had expected her to scream. They all did.

“What do you want?” she demanded. She stood up and noticed for the first time that there was more than one man. Two men were facing her and as she stood up two more men flanked the back of her. They had her surrounded.

One of the men facing her smirked, obviously the leader, “A certain dagger of yours.”

“It’s gone. I lost it,” she lied, a poor excuse but she wasn’t about to give it to in. That damn pawn keeper must have opened his mouth. She made a quick mental note to pay him a visit once this was over.

The man laughed, “Let’s start off with introductions. Skinner is what people call me and for good reason to. When I don’t get what I want I get very angry. I’m sure you could probably guess why I’m named that?”

Tauriel shrugged, trying to act casual, “No necessarily.”

“You’ll figure it out soon if you don’t start cooperating,” Skinner said. He was solidly built and muscular. If his face hadn’t been so badly scarred up then he would have been quite handsome. He was over a foot taller than she and loomed directly over her, succeeding at looking like a menacing brute.

Truth was she was scared but she needed to bide her time to plan an escape. Losing the dagger meant losing her brother. That couldn’t happen.

“Like I said, I lost it,” taking out her coin purse, she threw it to him. He made no move to catch it. She shrugged, “That’s all I got mister, take it or leave it.”

“I’m not playing games,” Skinner said. His voice was low and very threatening. “Red, hold her for me.”

Before she had time to move, a man behind her grabbed her from behind and twisted her arms. She tried to resist but her strength was no match for his. She was left helpless as the man called Skinner began to advance toward her. He drew his knife and pressed it up against her throat, “Why are you being so difficult?”

She dared not to talk; the knife was so pressing that if she made a move than she would cut herself. Instead, she spit in his face, not the brightest of moves she’ll admit.

She saw her life flash before her eyes as he snarled, but then something strange happened. Before he could make a move to slit her throat, a low and fierce voice interrupted them, “If you proceed, lad, I’ll shoot that arm off.”

Tauriel searched for the speaker, as well as her captives but too little avail; the man was nowhere to be seen. Skinner, still holding the knife to her throat, growled, “Where are you?”

The mysterious man made a low rumbling sound, she realized that he was laughing, “Close enough to kill you. That in its self should make you worried.”

“Show yourself devil!” Red spat.

Then out of the corner of her eye she saw him; a solidly built man with a grey-brown mottled cloak covering him. It was by chance that she noticed him for the cloak blended into the surroundings behind him. He wore dark leather boots that effortlessly made no sound as he approached slowly. His features were concealed by the hood of the cloak.

Skinner noticed that her attentions were elsewhere and followed her gaze. She could tell that he saw him also because he shifted their position until he faced directly in front of him; Tauriel covering him like a shield.

The man chuckled, within less than a second the stranger had an arrow knocked to the bow and flying toward them, missing the man by barely an inch. “I missed on purpose; don’t give me a reason to skewer you into two.”

Skinner’s face paled and he released her.He scowled before motioning his men to follow him. Before he left he glared at Tauriel and snarled, “This isn’t over. Watch your back.”

Once they had dramatically made there leave, she walked to the man and studied him, “I suppose I’d better offer my thanks.”

The man remained silent, and then he took off his hood, revealing his features. His age was marked by the silver streaks that ran through his once black hair. His face was dark, evidence of the many years he had spent in the sun. He held the look of a very serious man, but the twinkle in his eyes showed differently. They held a mixture of mischief and curiosity.

“It was only a matter of being at the right place at the right time,” the man spoke. His voice was low and held a certain amount of hostility. He made no move to introduce himself.

She smiled, trying to keep up her courage, something about him felt powerful and dangerous, “I’m in your debt, thank you.”

He made an impassive noise before asking, “Where are you headed?”

It didn’t feel like a good idea to tell him but he had saved her life. She couldn’t exactly lie to him after what he had done for her, “I have urgent business in ______.”

“What a coincidence, I’m headed that way myself. Perhaps we could travel together?” he suggested.

Tauriel’s guard came up, “I don’t know. I’d rather travel on my own.”

“I may come in handy at some point. You have been kidnapped already and who knows what could happen,” he persisted.

She hesitated; he wasn’t really giving her a choice. She knew that he would be travelling with her one way or another. She’d rather be conscious for the trip, “You know you may be right. I could always use someone to watch my back. What’s your name?”

He grunted, showing no emotion to her agreement, “You can call me Rolt.”

“Rolt it is then.”