Marysvale (38 page)

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Authors: Jared Southwick

Tags: #romance, #adventure, #action, #paranormal, #action adventure, #monsters, #romance mystery, #adventure action, #romance and adventure, #adventure fantasy, #romance adventure, #adventure fiction, #romance suspense, #adventure book, #romances, #adventure mystery, #adventure romance, #adventures on horseback, #adventure novel adventure books, #adventurefantasy

BOOK: Marysvale
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It took a moment for us to regain our
composure. When we had, Jane got up and offered me a hand. I took
it, and then did the same for Hannah.

The moment didn’t last long. Mr. Wolfe
brought us sharply back to reality. “You best get ready, John. They
will be here any time now.”

The smile faded from Jane’s face, as
did a little color, though not as badly as before.


Don’t look so glum,” he
said to Jane. “I’m sure that everything will be fine—just wait and
see.”


I don’t know how you can be
so sure,” said Hannah. “It doesn’t work out for very many of us who
get called up there.”


That’s not entirely true.
There have been many young men drafted into the soldier core. They
have a good life.” Then, as if it would make us feel better, he
added, “Officers can marry and have families.”

Jane didn’t bother to reply; she simply
retrieved my boots for me. Embarrassed by his comment, I busied
myself with putting them on. Jane proceeded to tuck and pull on my
clothes until they were straight and everything was again in its
proper place.

I looked at her curiously. I was
perfectly capable of getting myself ready; but for some reason, she
was intent on doing it herself.

Her only comment was, “I’ve seen you
dress before.”

She moved on to my hair which, again, I
found enjoyable. So instead of complaining about it, I let her
finish in silence, while the other two simply watched. Mr. Wolfe’s
face was unreadable. Hannah, on the other hand, wore an expression
of horror, and she clearly had a hard time understanding why Jane
fussed so.

Jane finished and turned me around.
“Now, let me have a look,” she said. Then, with a slight smile,
added, “Well, you’re not much to look at; but since we can’t send
anyone else, you’ll have to do.”

Hannah giggled and it made me feel
better that they both still had some humor. Perhaps Mr. Wolfe was
right; maybe it would all work out.

That delusion, however, instantly faded
the moment someone pounded on the door.

Mr. Wolfe went briskly over and opened
it. “Ah, welcome,” he said, and gestured into the small
room.

His graciousness did not go unrewarded.
Four men bustled into the room and shoved him harshly aside. As he
stumbled back, he fell to the ground. Hannah hurried to his aid
just as Lyman, wearing a wicked smirk on his face, sauntered in.
More soldiers waited outside with a shiny, black carriage and
horses.


My, my, I can see I was
right—the bath made no difference at all,” said Lyman mockingly. “I
can still smell the stink on you.” Turning to the soldiers, he
smirked, “There are some rats you simply cannot clean.”

His cronies laughed. I recognized three
of them as the officers that had been with him the first time we
met.

He looked at Mr. Wolfe, who struggled
to his feet.


Will you please get up, you
pathetic old man,” growled Lyman angrily. “Some of us do not have
the luxury of lying around all day.”

The officers laughed again.

Hannah, unable to control herself any
longer, rushed at Lyman, while at the same time accurately
describing him with a few, choice cuss words.

Prepared for her little attack, and
with one arm, he simply blocked her flying fists with a sweeping
motion and with his other, struck her hard across her face. The
blow knocked her to the ground and a red welt appeared instantly on
her cheek.

The soldiers roared in
laughter.

Jane screamed, “Don’t you touch her!”
and charged Lyman.

Quickly, I snatched her up as she ran
by and held her from behind in a tight hug.

She struggled to free herself. “Let me
go!” she demanded.

Whispering into her ear, I said, “Don’t
do it. He brought this many soldiers wanting a confrontation. There
isn’t anything you can do other than get yourself hurt.”

In a flash, Lyman’s countenance changed
from snide to dangerous. His face flushed scarlet with anger and a
vein throbbed on his forehead.


Getting our jollies are
we?” he sneered, with a hard edge to his voice. “By all means don’t
let me interrupt.”

I stared into his hard, cold eyes and
down into the dark abyss that was his soul. Irrational anger and
jealousy floated at the surface, with murder waiting close by….He
hated me for being close to Jane, and he wanted to punish her for
letting me get there.

Jane, even without any special
abilities of her own, could tell something was terribly wrong with
him. She stopped struggling and said quietly, “I’m fine, John. You
may release me now.”

I did.

Lyman gave a forced little laugh and,
looking at me, asked, “Is that the best you can do?” Then he
purred, “I can assure you that I am capable and willing to do much,
much more.”

He raised an arm and snapped his
fingers. More soldiers hustled into the house.


Take the girls to the
garrison,” he ordered. They rushed over to apprehend Jane and
Hannah.


No!” cried Mr. Wolfe. “You
can’t take them!”

Lyman laughed, “I can do whatever I
want to, old man. You should know that by now.”

It seemed the girls had different
plans, however, and pandemonium broke out.

Hannah furiously scratched the face of
the first soldier who touched her, drawing long, red streaks in his
flesh that quickly filled with blood. He shrieked in pain and
backed away, with his hands protecting his wounds. The other
soldiers were not so eager to be the next on her list.

Jane kicked her attacker between the
legs so hard that there was an audible pop. His eyes went wide and,
clutching himself, he toppled over in pain. This had the same
effect on Jane’s pursuers as Hannah’s defense had on hers. None
appeared too keen to take the lead.

Lyman screeched profanities at his
soldiers and threatened many different forms of punishment if they
did not get the girls quickly. The motivation worked. Two soldiers
lunged at Jane simultaneously, while trying to safeguard themselves
from suffering the same fate as their still moaning
comrade.

Mr. Wolfe dove in front of them. They
stumbled on him and, aided by the flailing arms of Mr. Wolfe, they
toppled over.

Lyman’s officer friends now entered the
fray. One drew his sword and went for Mr. Wolfe.

Hannah, who had now been overcome by
two of her assailants, and was being carried out, saw the sword and
let out a scream.

With devastating speed, I flew across
the room and grabbed the officer’s outstretched sword arm with both
hands. While yanking it down, I brought a knee up hard into his arm
and snapped his bone somewhere near the elbow. In a howl of pain,
the officer dropped the sword, and it clattered harmlessly to the
ground.

By now, Jane had been captured, and she
too was being half dragged, half carried, kicking and screaming, to
the carriage outside, where her sister was already inside and being
bound up.

Mr. Wolfe struggled to his feet, but
was kicked to the ground.

Another officer stormed me from behind.
My senses flared to life and, without looking, I knew his exact
position. When the distance and timing were right, I dropped to a
knee and thrust my elbow hard and out behind me and into his gut.
His body wrapped around it and the air flew out of his lungs with a
whoosh. Using my other hand, I grasped my clenched fist and
ratcheted my arm up even deeper into his stomach. At the same time,
I shot up, lifting the man off his feet, and with a twisting
motion, I sent him flying backwards into the next soldier surging
toward me. Together, they crashed to the floor.

Turning, I saw Lyman across the room,
smiling menacingly, and aiming a pistol at my head. He pulled the
trigger.

I jerked back just in time to hear the
explosion, as the gun expelled its tiny projectile right through
where my head had just been. The ball blasted the wall of the
house. I closed my eyes as bits of debris from the collision
showered my face.

Taking advantage of my situation,
soldiers charged in and tackled me roughly. They slammed my body to
the floor and twisted my arms up painfully behind my
back.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the
carriage, which held the girls, sweep past the door. Jane screamed
my name, tears streaming down her cheeks. I imagined what it must
have looked like from her view: the powder from the shot, Lyman
still holding the pistol, her father now on his feet, and soldiers
swarming my body.
She must think I’ve been killed or, at the
least, seriously wounded
. It wrenched my heart to hear her,
and my love for her intensified.

My wrists were bound up
tightly.

After a few curses and groans of pain,
the wounded were helped to their feet and escorted out and onto
horses, and the commotion died down quickly.

I finally noticed that Mr. Wolfe was
saying something over and over again.


You promised,” he cried.
“We had a deal that you wouldn’t hurt them if I
cooperated.”

Tears welled in his eyes. It made me
sad. I knew the anguish and panic he felt. The only thing in this
world that meant anything to him had been taken away. Whatever deal
he’d made had gone wrong. He placed his trust under the false hope
that his enemy would be just as honorable as he. Unfortunately,
time and time again, wicked men take the morality of the good and
twist it, using it for their own purposes. Evil knows only two
outcomes: triumph and defeat; compromise is merely a stepping stone
on the path to victory.

Lyman walked over and knelt down on my
back, twisting and driving his knee in deeply. He grabbed my hair
in his fist and pulled.


Are you watching this?” he
asked. “Look how pathetic he is. Don’t you agree, John?”

I said nothing.

He jerked my head up and slammed it
down.


I asked you a question,
boy,” he hissed.

Still, I said nothing.

Again, he pulled up and slammed my head
painfully against the floor.

Then, dropping his head close to mine,
he threatened, through clenched teeth, “You really must learn some
respect, boy; your life depends on it.” Spit drizzled out his mouth
and onto my cheek.

I ignored him and, again, he repeated
the process of bashing my head. A buzzing sound filled my ears,
accompanied by an agonizing throbbing in my head. My eyes lost
focus and, for a moment, I thought unconsciousness would overcome
me, but it didn’t.

Lyman, perhaps coming to the same
conclusion, stopped the beating.


No matter,” he said calmly.
“We can discuss this later, under a more persuasive setting. As for
now, you simply must know how weak and wretched this man is. I
think you will agree with me in the end that he truly is
deplorable.”

He barked at Mr. Wolfe, “Tell him. Tell
him what a friend you are. Tell him, Judas, how you sold him for a
pittance.”

I could hear the glee in his voice. I’d
heard it before in the words and thoughts of men like him. They
pleasured in the humiliation of others—at their disgrace and
belittlement. It made them feel powerful and in control.

Then Lyman screamed, as if yelling made
him more commanding, “Tell him!” His voice cracked, as the insanity
filled him and, without waiting for a reply, he drew another pistol
and shot.

Mr. Wolfe fell with a howl of
pain.


No!” I cried, bucking Lyman
violently off my back.

Instantly, two of his officer friends
leapt on me and pinned my legs and the rest of me to the
floor.

Lyman furiously jumped back on me, this
time driving his knee down onto my neck. He motioned eagerly with
his hand for another pistol.

One of the officers obliged him, and he
aimed it again at the poor man, who grasped his leg and writhed in
pain.

I closed my eyes, unable to bear the
sight.

Lyman, his voice dripping with the acid
of uncontrolled anger, said, “Oh no, you are going to watch—or I
will make this slow.”

For Mr. Wolfe’s sake, I forced my eyes
open. They were blurry from the grief I felt for Jane and Hannah,
and the hatred I felt for Lyman and his cruelty. In my anger, I
would have killed him right then if possible, regardless of the
consequences. The world is simply better off without the likes of
Lyman.


Tell him,” he repeated.
“And I will be swift.”

Calmness inexplicably fell over Mr.
Wolfe, and he sat up awkwardly. He didn’t even appear to be in much
agony, though he still gripped his wounded leg as blood poured out
between his fingers. He looked at me with sad eyes and said, “I’m
truly sorry, John. They knew you were coming even before you
arrived. They promised me that if I helped to keep you in
Marysvale, they would not hurt my daughters, and they would
increase our food rations.”

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