Executioner
"It is high time we execute him."
The words echo through Matthias' scull and freezes the blood in his veins, sending a shiver down his spine. His guts are a tangled mess of anxiety trying to tear their way out as he battles with his conscience both wanting to help Lukas and knowing that all of the other rebels want him dead for damage he has done.
"Hey, Matt, are you feeling alright there?"
The question draws Matthias out of his thoughts and his head snaps up, eyes meeting Berwald's worried gaze. There is a comforting hand on his uninjured arm, ready to provide support should he need it. Clearly his distraction did not go unnoticed. Matthias only nods weakly in response and stands up straighter, trying to shake off his nerves.
Berwald retreats to the opening of the tent, silently waiting for them to decide what to do.
Brynjar is clearly enjoying himself where he is. Most likely he is hoping to be one to behead the prisoner himself is one is to judge from the vicious smirk on his face. He unsheathes a small knife from his belt and moves in to cut off the ropes keeping their prisoner in place.
The first rope snaps and Lukas sways to the side, hanging painfully from the remaining one until Brynjar cuts that one as well, and he falls to the ground in a heap. After such a beating it is not really strange that his legs were too weak to hold his weight.
On the ground, Lukas struggles to get up on his hands and knees, but a swift kick to the gut from Brynjar sends him right back down, wheezing for breath and curling up on instinct to protect his vital organs from damage. Brynjar is not going to let him get away that easy, and uses a foot to roll the commander over on his back and just to keep him from moving, he steps on his thigh, right where the broken shaft of an arrow just barely pokes out of the skin. He presses down further until Lukas hisses out a strangled groan of pain and he laughs cruelly in triumph.
"That is enough!" Torleif snaps and he grabs on to Brynjar's wrist, pulling him back. "Let's just call for a gathering and chop his head off." He lowers his voice to a quiet hiss. "There is no need for torture, I would have thought us better than that!" He looks as if he is about to yell some more, express his disappointment in Brynjar's behavior, but that is apparently what their prisoner was waiting for.
With a speed that no one would have though possible for his condition, Lukas bolts upright and throws himself forward, right past the two veterans.
Brynjar and Torleif both yell in surprise, but they are too slow to react.
Matthias is equally shocked, and barely manages to lift his arms in defense before Lukas barrels into him, knocking both of them over. He acts on instinct, swinging his arms to knock down his assailant, but Lukas is far stronger than he looks and pins him down to the ground, straddling his legs and manages to grab onto one of his flailing arms in an iron grip.
There is a outraged yell from Brynjar, Torleif and Berwald, and then, just as sudden as Lukas attacked, he is torn away.
Matthias rolls over, scrambling to get away before Torleif and Berwald hauls him to his feet. He watches how Brynjar has Lukas by the collar of his torn shirt and throws him to the ground once more. He deals out a few more kicks and places his boot on Lukas' throat, applying pressure until Lukas gasps for breath and stops fighting.
This time Torleif apparently feels no need to stop Brynjar from dealing out violence. He then hisses in a loud breath through his teeth and points. "What is that in his hand?"
Lukas is indeed curling his fingers around something and clutching it close to his body in a tight fist.
Brynjar immediately makes a move to force Lukas' fingers open and take whatever it is from him.
"It is mine!" Lukas hisses furiously. He once again looks like the manic person that laughed in the face of the two furious veterans and not the mostly calm and collected person that spoke to Matthias in their absence. "That boy stole it from me!" Lukas continues and struggles against Brynjar as if he is desperate to get to Matthias.
Matthias is stunned to silence at the accusation and feeling incredibly confused.
"Shut your mouth!" Brynjar yells and gives Lukas another harsh kick to silence him. "Whatever this is, you won't need it where you are going." He adds nastily and opens up his hand to look at his price proper.
Matthias' hands immediately fly to his pockets as he realizes just what it is that Brynjar is holding up towards the light for inspection, only to find them empty. From Brynjar's fingers hang the very same garnet crystal that kept Matthias from dying on the battlefield. Somehow, Lukas managed to take it from his pockets in their short scuffle, but for what reason Matthias has no idea.
"Such a pretty little thing," Brynjar says smugly. He gives a glance down at his prisoner only to receive a cold glare in return and he grins. He swings the pendant from side to side, admiring how the deep red shine reflects in the light. "Where did you find this?" He turns to Matthias. "Torleif and I searched through everything he had, and I am pretty sure we took everything of value."
"I," Matthias stutters as he wracks his brain for a good lie. "It was hidden in a concealed pocket," he says as he gestures towards the pile of discarded clothes and armor tossed haphazardly into a corner. "He refused to talk to me and I grew bored, so I just went through his belonging for myself to pass the time."
Brynjar merely shrugs, but he does not look suspicious. He just gazes at the crystal, almost looking mesmerized. "I think I'll hold on to this," he says. "That is if you don't mind?"
Matthias shakes his head weakly, and just at the corner he notices a tiny smirk that plays around Lukas' lips. "I don't need it." At the back of his mind, he wonders if he is making a huge mistake by letting things play out as they are. For some reason Lukas wants Brynjar to have the garnet and by keeping quiet, Matthias is allowing it to happen.
"Great," Brynjar says brightly, and pulls the chain over his head and tucks the crystal into his shirt.
"Are we done now?" Torleif grumbles as soon as the crystal is out of sight. He mutters a few quiet curses as he shoves Brynjar aside and ties the prisoners hands together with a piece of rope and pulls him up to his feet. Lukas wobbles unsteadily, but after his display the last time they thought him weak, nobody is willing to pay him any care and risk him attacking them again.
Torleif grabs him harshly by the shoulder and pushes him towards the entrance. Brynjar is all too happy to unsheathe his sword and place the tip against the prisoner's back as they walk just to make it very clear he will not hesitate to kill should he be given a reason.
Matthias lets out a ragged breath of air as he watches them walk past. He hesitates, still struggling with his brain whether or not to protest, but Brynjar and Torleif both are set on murder and Berwald has not said anything to make his opinion known.
He drags a hand through his hair in frustration and then steps after the four others as they head outside.
He is grateful for the frigid air as they exit and gratefully sucks in several large mouthfuls that help clear his head significantly, but he is quickly realizing that he is running out of time and options and quickly begins feeling sick again.
Berwald is with him almost in an instant, matching pace with him as the group moves between the tents, ready to offer support should Matthias. Apparently he is taking Eir's orders to heart in making sure Matthias returns to her care after this excursion with no further injuries.
Lukas is stumbling his way forward ahead of them, dragging his injured leg and shivering in his ragged shirt. With his hands tied in front of him, he struggles keeping in balance, but Torleif has a vice grip on his shoulder to make him walk and Brynjar is making a show of nudging him with his sword as they move, grinning cruelly all the while.
It does not take long for people to take notice of them and they pick up a crowd that follows them as they make their way past the remainders of the soldiers' tents an towards an open space. There are people screaming insults and threats at the beaten commander and spitting at him in disgust. Others are running ahead, loudly declaring that an execution is soon to take place and for everyone to gather.
They were prepared for this already, Matthias realizes when he sees a crude chopping block standing at the ready a hundred or so meters away from the tents and there is already a half circle of people. The crowd part as they walk past and then cluster back in around them whey they are through, everybody eager to get the best possible view.
They barely make it to the chopping block before Brynjar grabs Lukas by the back of the neck and force him down to kneel in the snow by the block.
Torleif is marching back and forth before his people, preparing for a speech. The chatter quickly dies down to a few excited whispers.
"Welcome, friends!" Torleif roars. He paces back and forth one more time and comes to a halt just before the chopping block and throws his arms out. "Yesterday we won a great battle! One that few would have thought us capable of just weeks ago, but we triumphed nonetheless. In our victory we also managed to capture one of the King's commanders." He makes a gesture for the prisoner and the crowd boos in response, making quite the racket. Torleif makes a gesture for them to settle down, but there is still a muttering of discontent as the people thirst for revenge.
"Yes I know, I know," Torleif continues above the noise. "He is not just a commander, but also a freak of nature, capable of wielding magic and with no care for human lives. A coward that will use filthy tricks on the battlefield, rather than swords." He has to make another gesture for people to quiet down. "Today he will pay for the crimes committed on behalf of the King." The crowds roars in response, stomping their feet so hard the ground seems to shake underneath them. "This will be a message for the King. First we take down his armies, then his loyal servants and one day soon he will be the one to answer for his crimes in person!"
The crowd almost seems to boil with the anticipation as Torleif steps aside and leaving the show to Brynjar who is all too eager to have all the attention on him.
Matthias is standing at the very front with Berwald and they have a full view of everything. He is fighting with the urge to jump in and stop this madness. His every instinct is screaming that something is wrong, that something bad is about to happen he just does not know what. He is trying to keep a relatively calm expression as Torleif tries his best to rile up the crowd, but there is a taste of blood in his mouth as he has accidentally bitten down on his tongue.
Brynjar looks almost crazed as he is grinning viciously, switching his sword from hand to hand as if he is testing its balance and weight, making a show of it. He then points the end of it into the ground right next to Lukas and leans his weigh on the sword to get down to his level. He is obviously trying to intimidate the prisoner and enjoying every second even though it appears to have little effect, judging from the even gaze he receives from Lukas in return. "Any last words?" he asks mockingly, his voice sounding sickeningly sweet as they leave his mouth.
Lukas only straightens his back with a distinctive lack of fear. His gaze roams over the gathered rebels, and several of them shrink under it. Then his gaze turns back on Brynjar, cold an defying. "The King will avenge his men," Lukas says firmly, loud enough for many of the spectators to hear. "He will have your heads on pikes outside the capital and they will remain there as a warning to all those that oppose him. There they will stay, until bleached bones is all that remains of your little rebellion."
"You're awfully confident for somebody about to lose their head," Brynjar replies nastily.
Lukas bares his teeth in return, grinning with his bloodied teeth like a madman.
It is all an act, Matthias realizes. Lukas wants them all to think that he is crazy. He is planning something and he wants everybody to lower their guard around him.
Matthias knows he should do something, call of this entire execution before somebody gets hurt, but he still cannot make himself act. There is a nagging feeling at the back of his mind that tells him to bide his time, to wait. If Lukas has a plan to escape he does not want to ruin it by stepping in either, but he is hard pressed to see what he can possibly do with his hands tied and beaten within an inch of his life.
The crowd has gone dead silent, hanging on to every word being said.
"I do not fear you," Lukas states loudly and there is a dangerous glint in his eyes. "This is not the day I die!"
There is a flicker of doubt crossing Brynjar's face at those words and he takes half a step backwards, clutching desperately around the hilt of his sword that he had almost seemed to forget in his eagerness to verbally taunt the prisoner.
Lukas makes a strange gesture with his tied hands towards Brynjar and blue mist appears to curl around the tips of his fingers. His mouth moves around words that are too quiet for anyone to hear and between one blink of his eyes and the next, there is an unnatural, blue glow in his eyes.
Brynjar steps further back, his eyes trained on the commander in front of him, his expression turning in to one of open fear. He attempts to raise his sword, but the move looks half hearted at best.
There are sound of unease from the crowd as people begin to realize that the execution is not going according to plan. A few are beginning to pull away from the chopping block, finding the sight of magic terrifying and without any idea of how to counter it. At the edge of their pretend stage, Torleif has caught on, and he whirls around to find out what is happening.
Brynjar stands frozen, still staring dumbly at their bound prisoner, but it looks like he is unable to move. Lukas clenches his hands into a fist and Brynjar's eyes go wide and his sword clatters to the ground. Both his hands goes to his throat instead where he begins tearing at the fabric of his shirt, gasping for air as if Lukas fingers are tightening around his throat rather than just the air in front of him. His mouth opens and closes rapidly, like a fish on dry land, but not a single sound leaves him.
Lukas is quick as a snake as he throws himself at the sword on the ground to slash his bindings while everyone else is busy being shocked.
Torleif rushes towards them, realizing their prisoner is about to escape, but hesitates as Lukas jumps to his feet and with the stolen sword raised and ready for action. A few of the braver rebels have made moves for their weapons, but they also stop when Torleif do.
"Take one more step and I will kill the both of you," Lukas hisses coldly. He has Brynjar's sword aimed at Torleif, the blade is too big for someone his height, but somehow it looks like it weights nothing in Lukas' hands. It shows them all that he is far stronger than they thing and just how easy it will be for him to follow through on his threats. The other hand he holds out in a fist towards Brynjar who is wheezing harshly and slowly turning blue from a lack of air.
Matthias cannot hold himself back any longer. He makes a move towards Lukas, but something holds him back. He turns to see Berwald with a death grip on his cloak, pulling him back. "You have no way of defending yourself. You'll only get killed!"
The person in front of Matthias is no longer just Lukas, the young Vette that lost his brother was tricked into serving a cruel King that Matthias got to see a glimpse of back in the tent. Right now, he is a soldier and a killer, one that is willing and able to slay anyone that stands in his path. The strange glow in Lukas' eyes grow stronger and the mist gathered at his fingertips swirl towards Brynjar.
Brynjar falls to his knees, wheezing and scratching even more desperately at his throat and chest, trying to tear off his shirt. "It burns!" he screams. "Make it stop!"
The commander opens his fist, but the strange mist still remains between him and Brynjar. He reaches for the end off the arrow still imbedded in his shoulder and pulls it out without even a grimace of pain. He throws it on the ground between himself and the spectators that are watching him in fear. The mist that goes from his fingers and to Brynjar turns red and to everybody's horror, the wound left behind by the arrow begins knitting itself together before their very eyes until its noting more than a thin, white scar. At the same time, Brynjar turns more desperate choking on air and clawing harder at his chest.
Realizing that his friend is about to die, Torleif finally forgets his fear and jolts back into action. With a desperate roar he throws himself at the commander, wildly swinging his sword.
Metal strikes metal with a shower of sparks al Lukas easily blocks the incoming blow. Lukas makes a strange movement with his hand and then Torleif flies backwards several meters before he crashes into the ground with a thud.
The situation has turned into complete chaos.
There is a loud crack and then lighting strikes into the ground from a clear sky, right next to the chopping block. There is panicked screaming from the crowd and many of those that did not flee before are now fighting to get away, pushing others aside in favor of saving themselves.
The site of impact for the lighting strike has begun smoking and it quickly turns into a thick fog that grows and spread, shrouding the entire execution area and hiding the commander and the veteran from sight of the crowd.
Matthias cannot stand to watch anymore. Berwald still holds him by the cloak, but he undoes the clasp and slips away before Berwald can grab a hold of him again and runs into the smoke.
He has no plan, no idea, he just acts.
He cannot see anything from the moment he steps into the smoke. His eyes and lungs burn in protest, but he aims for where he last saw Brynjar. He can hear the other rebels yell and scream in panic, but he ignores them.
He continues forward until his foot catches on something, almost sending him tumbling to the ground. Before he loses balance however, an arm wraps around his neck, just tight enough to make him freeze in response and also keeps him from falling over. The person is a little bit shorter than him and his back bends backwards uncomfortably in an attempt to ease the pressure on his throat. There is hot breath tickling his ear that sends a shiver down his spine.
"I am sorry it had to play out this way." Lukas' voice is calm and quiet, meant for his ears alone. "Brynjar had to die, his leadership would have led you to disaster. You have done well so far. Trust your instincts and do not give up."
The arm around Matthias' throat disappears, but when he spins around, Lukas is already gone.
The smoke is beginning to clear up and a low gurgle draws Matthias' attention to the ground. Brynjar is still alive, and Matthias kneels down beside him but realizes he has no clue of how to help. All he can think to do is pull aside Brynjar's hands to stop him from tearing open his own throat with his fingers.
He is almost pushed aside as Torleif almost throws himself down besides them, apparently not badly hurt from his crash landing. "Brynjar!" His voice is panicked and his hands hover as if he is afraid to touch. "What is wrong with him? What did that creature do?"
Matthias pushes Brynjar's hands away and tears open layers off fabric to reveal his chest. There is a gasp of horror from Torleif at the sight that meets them.
Brynjar's chest and throat is a mess. His skin looks burned, angry red and even blackened close to the center and with large blisters. Some of them have burst and are oozing a dark yellow puss that smells like rot that has both of them gagging. Then he notices what seems to be the center of the problem. The garnet crystal Brynjar stole from Lukas is almost hidden by blackened skin, but it appears to have melted into Brynjar's skin and quite possibly fused with his ribcage. The veins around the crystal have turned black as if there is poison pumping through Brynjar's system and the infection seems to spread with each passing second.
"Get some help!" Torleif screams towards the crowd even though nobody seems to pay him any proper attention. "Get Eir, right now!" He finally dares touch Brynjar and pulls his head into his lap, brushing fingers along his face, a weak attempt at comfort. "Hold on my friend," he whispers, "we'll get a healer hear soon. You'll be fine."
Brynjar only coughs in return, spraying his own face and Torleif's clothes in a fine mist of blood. A single tear makes its way down his cheeks and then his eyes clouds over as he draws a final gurgling breath and turns limp in Torleif's grasp.
"No," Torleif whispers in utter disbelief. All color is gone from his face as he slowly begins to realize that Brynjar is gone. "You can't die now," he shakes Brynjar's shoulder as his voice rises in volume. "We were finally getting results. We are not done yet!"
"Torleif," Matthias says carefully. "There is nothing more we can do for him, he is already gone." He places a careful hand on Torleif's arm in an attempt at comfort. It might as well be for his own sake rather than Torleif as a tidal wave of guilt washes over him realizing that he could have stopped this if he had only acted or even just spoken up when he began suspecting Lukas was up to something. The crystal that saved his life only a day or so ago seem to the reason for Brynjar's death if Matthias is to guess. He has no idea how magic works, but with how the crystal is burned into Brynjar's skin he can only assume it was part of some kind of spell.
He should not have let Brynjar take it in the first place. He knew Lukas wanted Brynjar to have it or he would never have put on such an act, pretending to attack Matthias but never actually hurting him in the process when he could probably have snapped Matthias' neck in an instant. Lukas knew Brynjar would be greedy enough to claim it for himself and then used it to kill him. Brynjar was not a kind man, rather impatient, greedy and violent, but he did not deserve a death like that. Nobody does.
"What are we going to do now?" Torleif whispers quietly, still cradling Brynjar's head in his hands. "How do we move on?"
The few rebels that did not flee in the commotion are now gathering around them, staring at them, whispering and crying. They look to Torleif and Matthias for guidance but none of them are finding any.
"I thought we had the situation under control," Torleif continues weakly, his shoulders slumping. "He had no weapon and somehow he killed Brynjar. Now that damned commander is probably running right back to the King to inform him of what happened, they will return for us stronger and harsher. They will know what kind of fight we are capable of putting up and they will be prepared for us. We are never going to make it."
Matthias does not have a good response for him. He looks guiltily down at his shaking hands and immediately wants to throw up. His hands are red, drenched in dark blood, blood that might not have been spilled if only he had acted differently. He could have stopped all of this and Brynjar would still be alive. Of course, that means Lukas would be dead instead. He should not have defended Lukas, he does not even know him, not really, so why did he let him get away with it?
The air seems stuck in his throat, unable to move past the lump of guilt and regret and his vision go uncomfortably dark around the edges. All he can see is his own, blood drenched hands and he knows its all his fault.