Page 16 of A Simple Truth (the Freckled Fate #2)

15

GIDEON

T he bright full moon shone straight above the two groups of soldiers as they soundlessly trudged through the slightly-flooded plains, toward the sleepy, unaware town.

Leave no survivors. Burn it to the ground to shine across all of Esnox.

A clear and a simple order.

Hosam’s spies and Andrias’s Lords were already busy preparing their decrees to be proclaimed on the bloodied morning.

‘Rebel groups found in Asford. The whole town to be burned for tolerating and accepting traitors among themselves .’

False decrees written with the blood I was about to spill; that I commanded my soldiers to spill.

I guess there was some truth to that, I had thought. I was a rebel, after all, and I was in this town now, as my soldiers and I crept closer, setting up the cruel ambush.

Orest marched silently next to me, his sword drawn. Lachlan and his battalion were on the other side, his own sword and ax now out too.

We didn’t need the cover of darkness; the town wouldn’t survive, even if they saw us coming miles ahead. Soon, the screams would begin, yet they wouldn’t even have a chance to beg for their lives.

No survivors.

Not children, not women.

No survivors.

I took a slow breath, letting the crisp, cold air of the night fill my lungs as I descended deeper into the Numb, until there was none of the guilt left; only ice-cold, familiar numbness.

“Look at us, back in the field like we are fourteen again.” Lachlan sneered, pulling down his visor off his helm until it covered his annoying face. “Want to bet heads again?” he asked, not hiding the thrill in his voice.

“No fire?” I asked, unsheathing both of my swords from my back as the couple of town guards went down and the city gates slowly opened.

“You know the rules.” Lachlan grinned wide.

“Deal,” I replied, twisting my swords in a circular motion.

“Loser buys all soldiers top tier wine.” He laughed. I fully succumbed to the Numb as I smirked and added,

“Let’s hope you have enough coppers, Lachlan.”

And then the bloodshed began.

The wooden houses were surrounded by roaring flames as Destroyers pillaged the wailing town. The half-awoken men rushed out of their houses to defend the last few minutes of their lives; of their families’ lives.

“One down, Bellator,” Lachlan shouted a few steps ahead of me as he held up a severed head by its hair in the air, blood drizzling out of the torn arteries and onto his dark armor.

I snarled at him, letting my last bit of lingering feelings succumb to the Numb, until I was nothing but a speck of dust, falling into the abyss.

Slash, duck, slash. One down. Another sway of my arms and another head on the ground, another clang of the metal; more blood. Minutes went by as the severed heads piled up.

One after another. I didn’t care to spare even a second of breath as I beheaded another with a simple swing of my sword. Their faces blended all into one. Their screams were nothing but an insignificant noise.

Where the ground was once-hardened with harsh weather, it now felt mushy, drenched with warm, innocent blood. Nothing but ash and smoke covered the previously clear night sky.

The only sign of time passing was the unceasing ache in my shoulder—though the shard of Basalt Glass was gone, its magic still lingered, causing the wound to heal slower.

“Slowing down, Bellator? Already?” Lachlan passed me, dragging another dead body behind him. “Number 82, by the way.” He gave me a smug, arrogant smirk, as he dramatically chopped off the head from a body with one move of his large ax and then, as if it were a ball, he kicked it, sending it rolling across the messy ground.

“Orest, where am I at?” I asked, not even needing to look back to know that my Second was like a shadow, only a step behind me.

“112,” Orest answered, content; simultaneously stabbing the person running by.

“Perhaps, you should focus on killing instead of counting,” I shot back at Lachlan as I continued moving, looking for another soul to send to the gods.

“Fuck!” Lachlan angrily shouted, taking off.

I moved further through the town, leaving a trail of headless bodies in my wake. The long, sharp blades of my swords now matched the color of the mahogany rubies in their hilts. I walked until I reached the flaming town hall. The previously tall and pristine building was now swallowed by infernos. I walked inside past the burning doors, letting the acidic smoke burn my lungs.

A young woman was crouched down and hiding behind a lectern made of stone, the smoke deep within her, clouding her eyes. I should’ve hesitated, should’ve contemplated; yet, there was nothing in my mind but the clarity of emptiness as I closed my eyes.

A single blink and her body was gone, now mixed with ashes and fire, her soul set free to wander.

“You are lucky Lachlan isn’t here to see that,” Orest snapped as he walked into the burning building, looking for me.

I ignored the blatant accusation, fully aware of the claim he was making.

“It isn’t cheating if you aren’t caught.” I nonchalantly shrugged, stepping aside as the larger ceiling beams above me collapsed to the floor.

“There is a group of men barricaded in the tavern, ready for you,” Orest stated.

“You lured them in? For me?” My brows rose with a bit of amusement. “I'm truly touched, Orest,” I teased, earning an eye roll from him as we walked down the few steps out of the scorching building.

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t like your imprudent bet, but I’d be damned to let that asswipe of a man win,” Orest said, as he raised his shield just enough to let the arrow directed at me hit it at full force.

“Orest, you are a very good Second, you know that?” I tenderly smiled at him.

“Don’t get all sentimental on me now, you still have some heads to chop, so go on,” he huffed. But I didn’t fail to notice the hidden smile on his face.

“Lead the way, then,” I replied, letting my own lips stretch into a wide smile.

I walked into the dusty building as a large group of angry men stood there, lost and confused, their minds coming out of the slippery fog. Their callused hands gripped tight to pitchforks, swords, axes, or whatever else they found in haste.

“Let’s get this over with, shall we?” I took a large breath of heavy air, twisting the metal in my hands as the blades swiftly moved through their necks.

Row after row of beheaded figures dropped to the ground, their bright blood flooding the wooden planks of the worn-out floor.

The shimmer of dawn flickered between the smoky clouds as the ashes finally settled amidst the burned bodies. The previously loud screaming and chaos now turned into a deadly calm.

“Any survivors?” I asked, holding my bloodied helm in my hand as Broderick came back to report.

“No sir, the soldiers around the town had caught a few attempting to flee, but none survived otherwise.”

“Good. Our job is done here, then. Rally up the troops, we are heading out,” I commanded him as he nodded, already departing.

“You son of a bitch!” Lachlan’s loud voice sounded nearby. “One hundred and fifty-two heads?!”

“Technically, it’s one hundred and sixty-seven heads, but after the hundred and fiftieth, I got sick of bringing them to the fountain, especially knowing that you barely crossed the one hundred mark.” The blood rubies on my back glimmered in the morning light as I gave him a smug look. “I tried giving you a fighting chance and all, Lachlan. But I guess some things just never change.” I arrogantly shrugged, aware of my undeniable victory . “It was fine wine, right?” The corner of my lip tugged upward. “My soldiers take a few barrels each. And I expect full payment.”

“You prick, you’ll get your payment,” Lachlan tensely squawked as he angrily marched away from us, clearly unhappy about the results—a look my Second very much enjoyed, as he stood there quietly by my side with his hands clasped behind his back.

I ran my hand across my chin to wipe off the now-dry splashes of blood, desperately craving a hot bath, though aware that no amount of boiling water or soap would wash away the stains from my tainted soul.