DARK BLUE LIGHTNING STREAKED ACROSS THE CLEAR SUMMER SKY ABOVE SWAYING TREES BUFFETED BY A GATHERING WIND. THUNDER BOOMED A FEW SECONDS LATER, SHAKING THE TEPID HUMID AIR. RAIN WAS ABOUT TO BREAK. TWO MEN, A GANGLY LAD ON THE VERGE OF ADULTHOOD AND AN OLD MAN THAT COULD BE HIS GRANDPA, WERE LYING PRONE IN THE GRASS BEHIND A CLUMP OF HUCKLEBERRY BUSHES. AT THE SOUND, THE YOUNG MAN FLINCHED INSTINCTIVELY AND ALMOST GASPED. AN OLD GRIZZLED MAN WITH A WEEK’S WORTH OF UNSHAVEN BEARD PLACED A STEADYING HAND ON HIM. “CALM DOWN, YOUNGIN’, A LITTLE THUNDER SHOULDN’T FRIGHTEN YOU SO,” HE WHISPERED. “IF YOU CAN KILL A MAN, YOU CAN DEAL WITH THE WEATHER.”
Then he pointed, “There comes our prize.”
The lad peeked and saw two wagons of goods pulled by oxen ambling along the road. A merchant and his wares protected by a hired guard of twenty or so swordsmen on foot. Their shiny armor looked formidable to the young man’s eye but to the old man though, their leather armor was all show. A good sword slash would cleave through it like a knife through butter. Everyone knew that anything more than leather armor was sent to the soldiers at the borders leaving guards like these with leather ones.
“Dorie, when do we …” the young man gestured implying the obvious.
“Wait for it, Jon,” the old man replied impatiently. “Over a hundred robberies and none botched thanks to perfect timing. Wait until they’re in range of our archers.”
Jon glanced around to see everyone else’s reactions. There were two dozen of them in total including Jon and none of them seemed as anxious as he was. They were all staring intently at the wagon and they have all pulled out their weapons in silence anticipation. A few anxious moments passed by. His heart felt like it was going to burst out with the suspense. His first robbery ever and with this, he would be finally accepted as part of Murphy’s gang.
He must have zoned out and missed the signal since the other bandits were dashing towards the road now. “Shit!” he cried aloud as he dashed after them. The fight had already started with each guard fighting a bandit or two. One guard who was in the back and hasn’t joined in the action yet saw Jon and dashed towards him. A perfect timing for both him and Jon.
Jon raised his sword and prepared for the charge. Shortly before the guard’s shield crashed into his face, Jon took a moment and wondered if this man had lost his parents in the war as well. Jon reeled back with blood pouring into his right eye. He blinked away as he swayed and retreated. He blocked a swing aimed for the right side of his head and grimaced as the shock sent tingles through his arm. A fist blow to the ribs knocked the air from his lungs and left a stinging along his side. He looked again at his opponent, this young man only slightly older than him but already with old eyes. A former soldier, he thought as he blocked another swing. Jon was surprised that he wasn’t dead yet.
The guard would be a dangerous opponent on the battlefield but the same advantage he would have there didn’t apply when dealing with thugs that didn’t mind playing dirty. Before the guard pulled back for another swing, Jon quickly grabbed a handful of powder from a pouch and threw it in the guard’s face. The guard, surprised, hesitated and broke into a sneezing fit. He only managed one sneeze before Jon placed a well-aimed thrust through the man’s heart.
Another good man gone, Jon thought with resignation. He took a look around and saw that his gang of outlaws has overpowered the guards. Most of the guards were already dead and the wounded were quickly given a few thrusts to ensure their passage to the beyond. The guards fought hard and a dozen of the gang were also joining them in the beyond.
The merchants within the carriage was just one family. The man was in his thirties and seemed fairly well-to-do and he had a wife and teenage daughter. They were on their knees now and begging for their lives. The gang surrounded them with Murphy standing in the center. Murphy stared at them with utter distaste. With a fearsome reputation already at the tender age of barely thirty, Murphy stood tall and proud in front of the three. He detested weakness and begging was clearly a sign of one. The family didn’t know it but they had already sealed their fate. Jon turned away; he didn’t want to see what would come next.
“Come here boy!” Murphy’s yell surprised him.
Boy was the name given to Jon. He wasn’t officially part of the gang and so didn’t have a name yet in Murphy’s eyes. He supposed that he should feel lucky at not being called dog like a previous tag-along. Jon quickly hustled over to stand beside the big man.
“What do you think we should do with this lot of sniveling fools?” Murphy turned to him and asked.
Jon felt that it was better if they lived since they were no threat but he knew better than to say that. He swallowed and said what he thought Murphy would like to hear, “Put them to the sword like all beggars.”
“Well, that’s a bit too harsh isn’t it?” Murphy said. “I think the two ladies ought to be spared. The gold and silver in this wasn’t as expected. Selling these pretty ones to the southerners should fetch us enough.”
“I hear the southerners enjoy northern ladies but we’ll get our chances to enjoy them first,” someone from the group yelled out.
The two ladies blanched and looked ready to faint. Jon felt sorry for them. Being sold as slaves to the southern Kazani was often considered a fate worse than death. He wished there was something he could do but there was none. Looking around, he saw a flash of sympathy on Dorie’s face. As small as that was, he felt better knowing that he wasn’t the only one here who still respects life.
“We don’t have all day jeering. There’s work to do. Jon, as a formal initiation into our gang, kill this fine merchant,” Murphy said with a hard gleam in his eye.
Jon steadied himself. He wasn’t expecting this but everyone was looking at him expectantly. Killing an innocent’s blood screamed against every fiber of his being. Still, what choice did he have? He needed to live. With a brief nod of his head, Jon snapped his sword and slashed. I don’t even know his name, Jon thought as the man’s head thudded onto the dirt.
“Congratulations, Jon, you’re now one of us,” Murphy smiled and squeezed his shoulders firmly. Then he turned to the rest of his men, “What are all of you waiting for? The show is over. Chain these women and start moving our loot!”
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Raucous laughter filled the common room of the cave which served as the gang’s hideout. This was an old abandoned mine with a history that was more colorful in stories than actuality. There were dark tales of the miners’ spirits that were said to still haunt the area and devour the souls of travelers. Pure horseshit as the robbers knew but the superstition was helpful and they propagated the myth to keep their hideout safe from curious eyes. Just in case, there was always at least one gang member standing guard a bit outside the cave entrance who can warn of any undesired folks which meant just about everyone. The occasional lost traveler was usually robbed and killed if he or she wandered too close to the cave entrance.
Jon was done with the festivities of the night and sat alone by himself on his straw bed in a tiny room at the back of the cave that he called home. Most of the gang had their own rooms but he shared one with old man Dorie. They were both new recruits to the gang and had yet to earn full room and board.
“A lot on your mind, huh?”
Dorie’s voice surprised him. He had zoned out thinking about something that for some reason he could no longer recall. Dorie sat on a small wooden stool and looked up at Jon.
“Not really. I’ll probably fall asleep once the noise dies down out there,” Jon said as he glanced up.
“Well, you can fool yourself but you can’t fool me. You’re not as dead as the others. You still carry that part of humanity in you. Killing that man and knowing the fate of those two women are hard things to wrestle with.”
“Not any harder than the world out there,” Jon said with a shrug.
“True, the world has changed a lot since my youngling days,” Dorie said. “For one thing, there weren’t those damn angels flying around like they own the place.”
“Well, they do own the place,” Jon pointed out.
“Man was given the role by God to rule over all others,” Dorie said as if reciting from the holy book, which of course is now banned.
“But do you really believe all others include angels?” Jon asked. “The demons have taken over part of the world and the High Seraph says they’re the only ones who can defeat them.”
He didn’t know what to think. When survival was at stake, it’s hard to think about these things but somehow old Dorie always seem to be pondering on them. Maybe it’s because Dorie was over thrice his age and knew the world when men ruled instead of demons or angels.
“Of course it’s true! All others mean including angels. And on what the High Seraph says, it’s all a pile of horseshit! You know that most of the angels in the world are created from humans. Oh, they give it a fancy name and call it Ascension but it’s just some fancy magic. Humans with ungodly powers pretending to be God. Who is to say that they weren’t the one who created demons as well?” Dorie’s face twisted disdainfully.
Jon listened to Dorie ramble on some more about the good times in the past before he told Dorie that he was tired and needed to sleep. Dorie left with a disgruntled grunt. Clearly, he expected Jon to be a more patient listener but tonight Jon was too occupied with his thoughts. He killed a man. Sure, he did it to survive but he still felt a strong pang of guilt. Sometimes he wondered how others could kill without feeling any sense of remorse. He could understand Dorie being bitter with the world since the angels killed his family but the others? They did it because they enjoyed it. It was disgusting and frightening.
Jon looked through his share of spoils. As usual, they left him the scraps. There wasn’t much except a few apples which thankfully wasn’t rotten and a book. He picked up the book and casually flipped through the pages. There were lines of squiggly symbols but no pictures. He couldn’t decipher anything from it. “I really wish I could read,” he said to himself.
None of the other guys including Murphy could read so it wasn’t a surprise they didn’t see any value in keeping a book but Jon didn’t feel the same way. Everyone who was wealthy or powerful knew how to read. If he was ever going to get out of this hellhole that he called his life, he would have to read. This was why he has accumulated over half a dozen books neatly stacked under his bed. The first few he obtained were water-damaged or half-ripped and so it wasn’t until the fourth book that he had been able to try to teach himself how to read. It has been arduous -- to start with, he wrote down every He was struck with the odd thought that he could have asked the merchant to teach him how to read but of course that was a pipe drive. If he had asked Murphy, at best he would have been laughed in the face.
Jon sighed. At this pace, he would be as old and jaded as Dorie before he could decipher these squiggly lines in the books. They looked like worms to me. Being a worm was how he felt most of the time in the gang. He knew the other folks besides Dorie didn’t like him and only tolerated him since Murphy thought having someone who has an innocent youthful look could help in pulling a heist later down the line. So far, Jon hasn’t played that role yet but he heard that Murphy has a grand plan in the works to rob one of the country mansion’s merchants. It was a gamble but lately the pickings of the caravans on the road have been slim. With the new paved concrete road just completed yonder out west, this dusty dirt road next to the caves have been languishing in trade. Unless the gang decided to pick up and move to another hideout or was willing to camp out in the woods for a week, the only alternative was to start hitting the rich folks in the area.
He probably would have stayed in his silent reverie for a while if no one had interrupted him but his peace was shattered when a couple of his least favorite people walked in through his door (which was nothing but a thin sheet of cloth) without any warning except a raucous laughter once they were standing in front of him. There were three of them and they were just as ugly inside as outside. Unfortunately, they were also not completely stupid. The leader of the pack’s name was Darius and though he was almost as scrawny as Jon, he seemed to hold a personal grudge against Jon for an inexplicable reason. Perhaps it was because Darius finally found someone physically smaller and weaker than he was.
“Well, what do we have here? A rat who hides in his hole instead of enjoying the cheese?” Darius sneered. His companions laughed.
“I already ate,” Jon said with a glare.
“I’m not talking about the grub. I’m talking about the cheese,” he emphasized the word cheese and directed a slight nod to the bigger brute Elfin.
Elfin left the room and promptly returned a second later with a girl about the same age as Jon gagged and bound. He dumped her on the floor. There was no need to do so for Jon could see that she had long fainted from being violated at least half a dozen times. Her shirt was half torn and he could see a breast hanging loose. She was a sorry sight.
“Now usually I don’t offer half-eaten cheese but since you’re now a man of the gang, I’m feeling especially generous tonight,” Darius smirked and his companions burst into laughter again.
“Thank you but I’m not interested. Now please leave my room,” Jon said. He was sweating inside but in front of these thugs, showing any weakness was tantamount to rolling on the floor belly up.
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “You sure about that, little Jon? It’s not just me who want you to celebrate. The big boss said specifically to offer you a piece and see how you like she tastes.”
Jon didn’t say anything but his mind was in turmoil. If this was true, there was no way out. He would have to go ahead and do it.
Taking his silence as a cue to continue, Darius smirked and said, “Maybe you’re still a virgin? Elfin here could show you what to do. You can watch.”
“No, that’s fine. I appreciate the boss’s offer and I accept. You three can leave now. I’ll appreciate some privacy,” Jon said.
“Alrighty then. I’ll check back in the morning. Make sure she’s good in one piece. Someone as pretty as her can fetch a fair coin in the market.”