Richard Parker: The Black Horseman

Gwynn’s breathing became loud and shallow as Tar Navarra’s eyes found hers for a moment before mercifully moving back to her mother’s.

“Are you the Lady Marie Addent Massi?” he asked for the final time.

Still Gwaynn’s mother said nothing.

“Yes…yes, she is the Lady Marie Addent Massi,” Gwynn blurted, hoping that the fact that they were royalty made all of this a mistake somehow. “I’m her daughter, the Lady Gwynn, and this is Gwaynn, my brother.”

Gwaynn stared at his sister, amazed at her courage, but he still felt in his heart that it would do no good. This man planned to kill them all.

Lady Marie said nothing, did not even acknowledged the outburst. The Executioner looked over at Gwynn and smiled slightly for just a moment.

“She was the Lady Marie Addent Massi,” he said, his voice slow and soft as a baby’s sigh. “Now,” he continued, glancing again at Gwynn, “she is just food for my dogs.” Then with an unhurried motion he drew his blade along the Lady Marie’s midsection, low on the stomach below her belly button and just above her protruding hipbones. A thin line of blood instantly appeared behind the blade as if drawn there. Tar Navarra stepped neatly back and to the right so that he now stood directly in front of Gwynn. He watched the young girl’s face closely. At first nothing happened.

“Aaaaah,” the Lady Marie said seconds after being cut. It was not a sound of pain, and in fact, she felt very little, but more a sound of surprise and wonder. Blood was running freely now over her pubic area and down the front of her thighs, then suddenly her intestines bulged out of the cut. They held for a moment but then streamed out of her, uncoiling rapidly at her feet, the fluid turning the dust to mud.

“Aaaaaah,” she said once again, as the Executioner took another small step back to avoid the mess. The Lady Marie looked up at him briefly, feeling very light, but still she felt no real pain. She looked down once more at what used to be her innards. Tar Navarra nodded to the dogs and they immediately moved forward and began to feed. The Executioner watched as Gwynn’s face became as mask of fearful ugliness and she began to scream. He sighed in disappointment and turned his attention back to the Lady Marie, who was watching the dogs with an almost fascinated expression on her face. She watched, making no sound, until slowly the light began to leave her eyes and her head slumped between her arms and she saw no more.

The Executioner just stood and watched as the dogs tore into, and began to devour the Lady Marie’s bowels, and all the time he said nothing. The dogs growling and eating were the only sounds to be heard in the courtyard…besides Gwynn’s screaming. The gruesome sight before her was too much to take with a calm demeanor, no matter what her courage. She barely noticed as the Executioner stepped closer to her, but her screams stopped abruptly as he reached out and began to stroke her left breast. His hand lingered a while then moved down her side and cupped her buttocks before moving slowly upward again. His thumb teased Gwynn’s dark nipple which stood out against her flawless skin. As he played, the Executioner smiled slightly, his eyes moving reluctantly from the nipple to stare into Gwynn’s intense green eyes.

Gwaynn watched helplessly, hoping his sister would find someway for them to get out of this nightmare.

‘Perhaps if she let him’ …he considered but then shook his head to chase the thought away.

“Please,” Gwynn whispered to the Executioner, almost like a lover. He smiled gently at her and then quickly slashed her throat just below the jawbone. Her eyes went wide with surprise as she stared at him. He stared back, still smiling and still stoking her breast as she tried and failed to draw another breath. She turned her face to Gwaynn, her eyes wide with panic. Her mouth was open, gulping, and Gwaynn could tell she was desperately trying to take a breath. He was breathing rapidly, as if he could somehow breathe for the both of them, but it did not work. He watched her struggle, all the while acutely aware of his disappointment in her. She was the strong one. She won at everything she did, yet somehow she had failed to save the two of them. Gwaynn was shocked, dismayed and above all, disappointed.

Tar Navarra also watched as she struggled for air and was still stroking her bloody nipple as she died.

Gwaynn hung motionless, and stared at his sister, shock keeping him still and silent as Tar Navarra moved in front of him. The man smiled at him, but Gwaynn was paying very little attention. His mind screamed at him, Gwynn is dead! Gwynn is dead! Gwynn is dead, over and over again.

“You are the Prince Gwaynn Massi?” the dark man asked in an almost friendly way.

Gwaynn said nothing, just nodded his head weakly. He cared very little now what happened to him, half of his soul was gone; the half he loved the best. He barely noticed what was going on around him and did not notice that the Executioner’s eyes were a bright blue.

“Good,” the man whispered, and began to raise his kali. He stopped abruptly as an arrow shot through the air and struck him in the right shoulder knocking the wind out of him, the force of the blow hurling him to the ground. A second later a dog yelped and then another, then the courtyard was suddenly alive with Massi soldiers. Gwaynn tried to turn his head to see what was going on, but his muscles betrayed him. He was actually surprised when the ropes holding his wrists to the scaffold were cut and his arms were free to fall. Pain and relief coursed through his shoulders. He would have fallen had he not been caught by strong arms. He was lifted seemingly without effort and thrown up over a broad shoulder. Gwaynn sighed and then gasped as the man beneath him began to run, though he headed not out of the stronghold, but back toward the keep. Gwaynn used his remaining strength to glance up. His eyes riveted on his dead sister’s naked body, the scene bobbing this way and that as he was carried away.

The man beneath him ran quickly, followed closely by several other soldiers. Someone behind was shouting orders, but the man carrying him never paused and just continued to run, not even slowing as he hit a flight of stairs. Gwaynn knew that the man had to be Lancer Karl, easily the largest and strongest man Gwaynn had ever met. And though Gwaynn was thin and only weighed one hundred and fifteen pounds he was sure no other man could sprint across the courtyard and up three flights of stairs while carrying him. These thoughts were dim as Gwaynn hung limply over the man’s shoulder, numb to everything around him. He was only vaguely aware of the fact that they had burst into his father’s private rooms.

“Traveler, now’s the time,” Gwaynn heard his father’s Weapons Master, Afton Sath say, but could he not see him. “Is the Prince alive?”

“We got to him in time…the Queen and the Princess…” Karl began, but stopped as Gwaynn let out a sob.

“Put him down while the Traveler works…make it fast man…” Afton Sath spat as Karl lowered Gwaynn into one of the oversized chairs.

“Let’s bar the door,” Gwaynn heard and opened his eyes. His head hurt, as did his arms, and he was dizzy, but still he watched as they pushed anything they could find in front of the one door to the room. Then he turned his attention to the Traveler. He had met a Traveler once during a dinner held by his father, but he had never watched one work before. They were very rare, and very expensive.

Gwaynn watched as the man hummed quietly to himself while moving his hands and arms about in a strange, exotic pattern. Master Sath suddenly stepped in front of him and blocked his view.

“Master Sath…” Gwaynn croaked and nearly began to cry from the gratitude he felt for this man, but he fought it down.