The Four Horsemen 3 - Famine (17 page)

Gatian strolled down the sidewalk, weaving slightly as he walked. He twirled his cane in his hand, and ignored the startled exclamations of the people he bumped into. What did he care if they didn’t like him taking up the sidewalk? It wasn’t like he knew them or would even see them in his normal day-to-day life.

He took another swig from his flask before tucking it back into his coat pocket. Gatian paused for a second to lean against a street lamp, and stare up at the sky. He couldn’t see any stars, not like when he’d lived in India several years ago. He found himself missing the openness of the country, though he had been a city boy most of his life.

Turning, Gatian spied a skinny girl with lanky greasy hair standing just outside the light from the lantern. Her clothes were ripped, and he wouldn’t doubt they were dirty. He shuddered, even if he’d been inclined to sleep with women, she wouldn’t have been his first choice.

Gatian continued on, but slowly became aware of footsteps following him. He didn’t change his stance or in any way act like he knew someone was there. Was it the whore who had propositioned him? Had she decided to rob him instead?

Gripping the head of his cane, he twisted it slightly, getting the blade inside the cane ready to be pulled out. If someone was going to try and attack him, he would make him or her rue the day they ever thought he’d be an easy mark.

Gatian glanced ahead of him, and spied a black alley opening approaching on his left. They would rush him as he came abreast of it. Gatian understood that, because he would have done the same thing to a man he attacked. He tensed as he came up on the alley, and the rush of footsteps came up behind him like he thought they would.

He whirled around, swinging his cane sword as he went. The shock of the blade slicing through fabric and flesh raced up his arm. Gatian didn’t let it stop him as he whipped around, trying to keep his balance while pushing the ruffians away.

The men kept quiet, and their very silence alerted him this might not be a simple robbery. Gatian fought savagely, pulling every trick from his bag, yet there were too many of them. He found himself herded into the alley, and was surrounded. Gatian gritted his teeth, wishing he hadn’t drunk so much at the club. The liquor slowed his reflexes, and the men got in several hits before they simply overwhelmed him.

Gatian slipped on something wet, and went to the ground. There was no way he could protect himself from their boots and pieces of wood they used like extensions of their arms. Even wrapping his arms around his head didn’t help. His ribs cracked and caved under the fierce blows. His bones broke, and something tore inside him.

He bit his lip to keep from crying out. They might kill him, but he wasn’t going to give them any satisfaction by yelling or begging. Gatian might die in the alley, yet he would do it on his own terms. Rolling onto his back, he grasped his sword in his hand and thrust with all his strength, driving the blade deep into the gut of one of the men standing over him. Blood gushed over his arm, and onto him. He closed his eyes as the warm liquid cascaded down.

Finally, he couldn’t fight anymore. Gatian accepted his death as he could feel his strength drain from him. He would die in the dirty alley at the hands of ruffians. He looked up to meet the gaze of the head attacker.

The gap-toothed grin the bastard flashed him chilled Gatian’s already cold soul. “Did you really think you’d get away with killing some nob? His family don’t like the idea of his being dead.”

Ah. St. Lucian’s family had found a way to exact revenge. Gatian laughed wetly. He should have anticipated this, since St. Lucian didn’t have any problem raping a weaker woman, even though she was placed high in society. The man’s family wouldn’t wince at the idea of killing another man.

Well, at least Emilia wouldn’t have to worry about being shunned anymore, Gatian thought as blackness overcame his vision. She would be a sympathetic figure to society for the most part, and her wealth would help smooth any bumps in the road.

His last thought was of Oliver, and he wished he would be seeing his dead lover soon, but Gatian knew he would be heading to Hell, not Heaven. Oliver had been innocent, and his only sin had been caring for Gatian, not knowing what an utter bastard Gatian was.

The voice tore through Gatian’s mind, and he jerked straight up, looking around for his opponents. Frowning, he realised he wasn’t in the alleyway anymore. The landscape surrounding him was barren, and looked like nothing Gatian had seen. He pushed to his feet, and turned slowly in a circle.

Finishing his circle, he glared at the slender silver-haired man standing there, his arms folded like he impatiently waited for Gatian to complete his circuit. Staring into the man’s blue eyes, Gatian barely swallowed his gasp as he noticed the colour filled the entire eye, with no pupil or iris.

“Who are you?” He often found attacking a person got him answers when they were more likely not to reply.
The man snorted. “You may call me Lam. You have been chosen, and I have to show you your new job.”
“Chosen? Where am I? I have never seen a place like this.” He motioned in a vague circle. “How did I get here?”
“You died in a back alley in Paris. Instead of being sent to wherever your judgement called for you to go, you were sent to me. I’m pretty sure you won’t like what you’re about to do, but it’s none of my business. I’m only here to teach you before you are sent out on your own.”
Lam whistled, and Gatian jumped when a pale grey stallion appeared out of thin air. The stallion snorted at him like it was saying hello. Gatian reached out to touch the horse’s nose. Jerking away from him, the horse shook its head. Obviously it wasn’t interested in him petting it.
“This is your horse.” Lam nodded in the grey’s direction. “Now that you’re Death, the Pale Rider, you need a mount.”
“Death? Pale Rider?” Gatian repeated, confusion pounding in his head.
Gatian remembered what else had happened before he woke up in the strange place. He stretched, searching for pain or broken bones. Yet nothing hurt, and there were no wounds or blood anywhere.
“Is there a reason why I have no wounds or torn clothes?” Gatian grasped Lam’s arms and shook the man. “Who are you, and why am I not dead?”
Lam didn’t respond, and didn’t try to break Gatian’s hold. He simply studied Gatian with a sardonic twist to his lips. Gatian found he hated Lam, if only for his calm reaction to Gatian’s yelling.
When his anger settled back into coldness, he let Lam go and stepped back. He’d never got anything by losing his temper. He tamped all his questions and doubts down deep, and rested his hands on his hips.
“Where are we going? And tell me again what a Pale Rider is?”
“Nice try, my friend. I never told you once what a Pale Rider is, except that you’re the new one. You are dead, in the most fundamental way possible. You can never go back to your old life, and while all those you know will die, you will continue to live forever.” Lam paused, and tilted his head. “Or until you forgive yourself of all that guilt you’ve been carrying around.”
“Guilt? What guilt?”
Lam grinned, and slapped Gatian on the shoulder. “You can deny it all you want, but I can see it in the set of your shoulders, and the chill in your eyes. You did something you regret, and it’s been eating at you since it happened. Well, whatever it was, it’s brought you to this. As the leader of the Four Horsemen, you will be in charge of keeping the world in balance.”
Gatian shrugged. “I have no idea what you are talking about. Who are the Four Horsemen?”
“Climb on your horse, and come with me. I have a lot to teach you, and a short window of time to do it in.” Lam motioned to the grey stallion.
Should he go? Was this some sort of trick Gatian’s brain was playing on him? Could he be alive, but caught in his head somehow? Gatian swung astride the stallion, and smiled at Lam.
“Lead the way, Lam. I am sure you will answer all my questions in due time.”
Lam narrowed his eyes at Gatian like he understood Gatian wasn’t satisfied. Gatian kept his expression bland, not willing to give anything away. With a nod of Lam’s head, they disappeared.

There is beauty in every kind of love, so why not live a life without boundaries? Experiencing everything the world offers fascinates TA and writing about the things that make each of us unique is how she shares those insights. TA lives in the Midwest with a wonderful partner of fourteen years. When not writing, she’s watching movies, reading and living life to the fullest.

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