I was awakened by the butt end of a spear jabbed into my jaw.
“Wake up, you fat bastard,” A voice commanded.
As I came to, I grasped confusedly at the straw I was laying on. My head throbbed violently. I looked around and found myself in a small, but not cramped, room devoid of furniture, of which the sole exception being a small bucket tucked into a corner. A ray of light shone through the small, caged window close to the ceiling. I was jabbed again and instinctually let out a groan of both annoyance and protest.
“Come on, you sour dog, we don’t have all day,” the voice said. I looked to the source and before me were two large brutish and ugly creatures that looked alike and devoid of any thought. Their stomachs protruded past their leather armor and each had a crooked nose and extended brows with eyebrows bushier than a milkweed caterpillar. They looked upon me with dull, hollow eyes and hungry smiles.
What the fuck happened? A flood of memories from last night washed over me. There Isabel stood, her body glowing in the silver moonlight, rigid, and her face pained. I’m sorry I have to do this Dagomar. Her voice was almost as quiet as a whisper.
They jabbed me harder this time, hard enough to see stars and pull me back to the present.
“I’m not going to ask again, you dumb cow,” the brute snarled. “Get the fuck up, now! You are being summoned.”
“Summoned by who?” I asked as I rose to my feet.
“Shut up,” the other brute snarled.
Then it became clear to me where I was, for there was only one explanation that made sense. I’m sorry I had to do this Dagomar. A wave of panic washed over me as the guards took a hold of my arms. I had been betrayed by that bastard whelp and his bitch. They had led me like a sheep to slaughter so they could collect my bounty. I was a prisoner of Ascianus. The thought felt like a rock dragging me to the bottom of the ocean.
An incredible sense of dread washed over me as the two led me out of my cell, through the small prison, up the stairs, and through a hatched door. I frantically tried to find a way to escape their grasp as they escorted me through a roofed colonnade, but I knew it was futile as I was brought into a small courtyard occupied by a group of people. Fear coursed through my body, but I remembered feeling shame more than anything. Shame and spite. I knew then that I was certain I would die, and all because of my son. I remember to this day every single minute detail in that courtyard and the wicked group of people who looked at me as if I was easy prey. Red rosebushes and blue hydrangeas lined the edges of the courtyard. Their flowers were in full bloom as a small army of butterflies, bees, and other insects extracted as much nectar as they could. Two small dirt paths lined by peonies cut through the ground and intersected right in the middle, which was where I was led to face the group. A large villa colored a dull but warm orange color blazed behind them.
The guards forced me to my knees before moving behind me. Before me was an old sickly man sitting on a stool. He leaned heavily on a cane as he wheezed with short labored breaths. His face was as haggard as his body and his hair, thin and sickly, practically fell off him. He seemed to stare directly past me, and it was easy to see that he was mentally absent. Two men stood behind the sickly man. I flinched at the sight of one of the men, for he was a spitting image of Ascianus. I would have believed I had come face to face with my old rival except he was too young to be him; there was no doubt he was that bastard’s son. He stood proudly in that courtyard in a manner that commanded everyone else to notice him. He sneered at me in disgust. Just like his father, he was medium height with muscles that bulged out of his tunic as his deep bronze skin gleamed in Ugur’s rays. His hair was what captured my attention, though, for it was wild like a lion’s mane and reminded me distinctly of the Priestess. There was nothing more that I desired more than to be with her in that moment. To soothe me and let me know that everything will be okay. The other man was short and with a gentle face. He had short black hair, a bit of a paunch to him, and pale skin that contrasted directly with Ascianus’ son.
To the left of the trio were two women. One was middle-aged with eyes fierce, proud, and unrelenting, but also heavy and laden with bags. She too had long curly hair and wore a slender black dress that draped off of her right shoulder. The other woman was much younger. She seemed beautiful and without imperfections. She gazed upon me with soft eyes and a look of both confusion and curiosity. I pitied her; she was too innocent to be exposed to what was bound to happen.
And to the right were the traitors. My son and that wench of his. They stood proudly with the group, but just like when we were captured by the Priestess after their failed mutiny, their faces were marred in shame. I should have let both of them die on the Priestess’ ship. The old me would have. He wouldn’t dare take a chance with someone as vicious as the Priestess, but I took a risk out of love and foolishness and look at how it rewarded me. I glared at them with such hatred that it was impossible for the two to not shift in discomfort.
Ascianus’ son laughed loudly at the interaction. “For Maiden’s sake, you did a number to him, eh?” He joked to Alexander.
Alexander didn’t respond.
“I heard the tale earlier this morning,” the son continued, this time he was speaking to me. “One could not imagine how happy I was to be awakened to the news that the infamous scoundrel, Dagomar Dernbut, had been brought to my very villa! What a happy present for Dolos, wouldn’t you agree?” He looked around in feigned amusement, but everyone’s gaze, barring the sickly old man was instead focused upon me. I could only imagine what I looked like to them. They probably saw me as such a wretched villain. I itched with anticipation to be done with this jest and finally meet Ascianus one last time. If I could not kill him, I would at least want to look at the man who took everything from me in the eye one last time.
“But surprisingly,” Dolos continued. “The gifts didn’t end there. These two mercenaries,” he pointed towards Alexander and Isabel, “regaled me with a story straight out of Leonidas’ books!” The short paunchy man grinned. “Now tell me, you scoundrel, do they speak the truth? Did you sail straight through the swallows at the peak of a terrific storm? Did you get captured by the Priestess of Parthos and save them based on your reputation alone? Did you then really kill Admiral Cirilla, one of the finest heroes that our beloved city of Marnes has ever produced?”
I said nothing. I only looked him in the eye before spitting on the ground.
Dolos’ grin turned wicked. “So, it is true then, isn’t it?” He said softly. “And that must mean the best part is true as well!” He began laughing like a madman, to the point where the others around him grew unsettled.
“Dolos,” the older woman said, her voice cutting through the air with authority. “Not like this.”
“I’m sorry, Mother,” Dolos said, composing himself. “I take too much pleasure in the fool before me. Dagomar,” he asked. “Who is this man to you?” He pointed again towards Alexander, who in return stood poised but unable to meet my eyes.
Again, I refused to answer.
“He is your son, no? Or is he just one very creative individual that convinced an old, bleated sheep to follow him straight into the lion’s den? Tell me, Dagomar, is it because you are a fool, or are you that desperate to believe any stranger who comes to your doorstep and claims he is your son?”
My heart sunk, and the only other pain that was comparable to this betrayal and lie was the death of Natalie. I had been a fool. An incredibly massive fool. Is Dolos right? Was I actually that desperate for a human connection that I believed a stranger on my doorstep was my blood? Waves crashed over me. Waves of sorrow, waves of despair, waves of violent rage; they attacked me viciously and pulled me under until I lost awareness of my surroundings. They drowned me for what seemed like hours but turned out to be mere moments. I looked to Alexander, if that was even his real name, and Isabel. Isabel couldn’t bear to make eye contact, but Alexander was at least man enough to meet my gaze. He looked absolutely anguished, but that only made my rage greater. He had no right to play the victim, not after everything he had done to me. The group, including Alexander, seemed to be waiting for a response from me with bated breaths.
“The first night we met, when the wolves were ready to tear you to shreds, I could have done nothing. I could have let you served as a sacrifice to Parthos when the Priestess wanted to kill you. And this is how you repay me?” I spat to Alexander. “May the Maker grant you a life of pestilence and sorrow for your actions.”
“And just when I was growing bored with all of this,” Dolos mused.
“Shut your whore mouth,” I interjected. I seethed with rage at this impudent twerp who thought he could belittle me. “You are nothing more than a coward’s son who suckles on his mother’s tits and brother’s cock! I am done listening to you, boy. Take me to that coward Ascianus and let us settle this feud like the days of old. Or has he forgotten what it means to be a man?”
Dolos seethed with rage. “Listen here.”
“Dolos,” his mother interjected, silencing him. Upon hearing his mother, Dolos slinked back and quietly seethed. She walked to him slowly, her face without emotion. Before she reached him though, she stopped and gently placed a hand on the sickly old man’s shoulder. The sick man, who seemed to have no knowledge of what was happening around him perked up when he felt her touch. She leaned down and gently kissed him on his brow. “Ascianus Cestus, first of his name, husband to Kassandra Cestus, father to Dolos and Leonidas Cestus, and Baron of Bracchano, is no coward. He stands before you, a better man than you will ever be.”
******
The cell which held me seemed both suffocatingly small yet also a world away. Never did I think that one day could go so calamitously wrong. I had been an incredible fool, probably the biggest one in all of Ibara. And the fact that Ascianus was now this withered man who had been stripped of nearly every fiber of life, crushed my spirits tremendously. A cruel death like the one he is currently experiencing was exactly what he deserved, but disease is a foul thing. Those who believe in the old Creators believe that it was Parthos in her truest form slowly rotting the body from the inside. If a disease carried a man away his bones could not be picked clean and buried, instead, his body was left to burn and he was denied a space in the celestial skies above. If I killed him now, I would be saving his soul. If somehow, I even managed to escape from this lousy cell, would it be even worth it to kill him or would I just be doing that bastard a favor?
I was pulled from my misery by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. A few minutes later he was standing outside of my cell, rubbing his hands, back slightly hunched, and head slightly lowered. I had no words to share with that boy, all I needed to say I had done in the courtyard, so I chose to not acknowledge him. We stood in that tense silence for a few minutes.
“I don’t see a plate,” Alexander finally said. “Did you get supper? I’ll have a word with the guards to make sure you get something.” There was an even longer pause as he seemed to try and find the right words. “They,” he stammered. “They are planning on going through with it tomorrow, in the town square. It is to be by hanging I hear. I- I just thought you should know; if the roles were reversed and I was in your place, well, the anticipation of knowing when it happens would be unbearable.”
Aye, so tomorrow it is then, and death by hanging at that. I suppose there are worse ways to die. I took a deep breath. Alexander had just given me a courtesy, but it was a small one, and after what he did, it meant nothing to me.
He waited for a response and when I deigned him with the dignity, he continued. “I’m sorry, Dagomar,” he sighed. “I truly am. I have come to like you and I have nothing but tremendous respect for you. What I did was by no means personal.” Fuck him. “It was just the fate of the situation.”
May the Maiden and Ugur and any other spirit that roams this land fuck him mercilessly for as long as he lives.
“I knew that I would never be able to take you alive. Too many in Cold Harbor spoke of how scores of bounty hunters like myself would set off to find you only to never be seen again. So, I figured if I could somehow convince you to come with me willingly, I would have a greater chance. Hence, the story about my wife.”
I was twitching with fury by this point and it took every ounce of discipline that I had to not say anything.
“Come on, Dag,” Alexander said, his voice exasperated. “You’re not going to say anything? I know I have done you wrong since the moment we have set out, but this has not been easy for me either”?”
I screamed on the inside so violently I thought I might burst. I couldn’t take this prick’s self-victimization anymore.
“This isn’t easy for you?” I sneered. “How dare you say that, you worthless piece of shit. Ever since I left with you, you have done nothing but feel pity for yourself, and now, even after you won, even after you did what scores of others in your profession have failed to do, you still cast yourself as the one with a problem? Be a man, huh! Own up to what you have done. This hasn’t been easy for you? Bah! This is exactly what you set out to do.”
I fumed; my face was red and my mouth frothed at the edges. “You,” I was so clouded by rage that I struggled to find the right words. “You are a monster. A true one, and yet you dare to seek my forgiveness?”
“I was but a ghost when I met you,” I screamed, my voice reached a fever pitch. “I was rotting away in that foul, dark place! I had no intention to leave, to cause harm to nary a man! But you, you had to trick me and lead me away. You gave me life again. You gave me a purpose and reason. You were the one that helped me realize that I didn’t have to kill myself slowly. You reminded me that there were things to fight for, joy to be had, people to love, and a life to celebrate. And then you took it all away from me.” Tears welled in my eyes. “I can’t think of anything in life crueler than what you have done.”
I sighed deeply, holding back tears. “I meant everything I said back in the courtyard. I hope you spend the rest of my life cursed, haunted by the actions of what you have done. May you rot under the eye of Ugur.”
He said nothing. Like usual, he couldn’t look me in the eye. Instead, he just stood there, with his arms crossed, his body retreating, and his head looming towards the ground. I felt heavy. Too heavy. I wanted nothing more for him to leave, but at the same time, I stood there dreading the moment he would go.