With my bare hands.
Feeling cold, and nearly lifeless myself, I hopped to my feet and looked at my hands. Hard and scarred, these limbs of mine had built and destroyed a great many things, but I’d never imagined I’d use them to take a man’s life.
Looking down at Lord Timothy Beckham’s blue face, eyes wide and jaw agape, I felt the urge to vomit. I did. While expelling my guts all over the fancy rug, I cursed myself for wasting time. I’d needed to get Lace and leave this place right now. Lace!
Oh, good God, she had seen all that. Glancing in her direction, I saw her curled up in a ball in the corner, but this time, she wasn’t shaking, and she was not scratching her arm. Stiff and silent she sat. The whites around her light green irises showed clear as she stared at his lifeless body. Lifeless, yes, because I killed him. My blood rushed so quickly, it felt like I floated in her direction. Reaching for her hand, I said, “It’s all right. He won’t hurt you anymore. Come with me.”
At that moment, Lace started scratching her arm. Rapidly, crazily, and the horror in her eyes was unbearably apparent as she stared at the dead man.
“Don’t be afraid.” I put my hand on hers, but she yanked it away. I continued, “We don’t have to stay here any longer, Lace. Let’s go.”
Realizing that she wouldn’t budge, I started to panic.
“Please. Take my hand.” My voice trembled. My whole body started to shake. I had to get out. We had to go before anyone found out. Just as I thought I’d pick her up and drag her off this godforsaken property, I heard a key in the lock of the door. As the small piece of metal turned in the knob, it felt as if it had stabbed and twisted into my heart. It was too late to run. The door was opening.
With no other option, I sprung to my feet, ready to attack and tie, or maybe even kill someone else if I had to. But my heart seemed to stop beating in my chest and I stood there like a senseless fool as July Beckham entered the room.
“What are you doing in here, Mason?” She squinted curiously while shutting the door behind her. “And why do you look like you just saw a ghost?”
When I didn’t respond, she peered around the room. First at Lace, then at the blood splattered on my sleeve, and finally, she set her sights on the last thing I wanted anyone in the world to see. Lord Timothy Beckham’s dead body.
Her delicate brows furrowed as she laid eyes on his feet, but as her gaze wandered to his face, her expression became hard, and unreadable. I had no idea how she was going to react to the dreadful scene, but she surprised the hell out of me by locking the door behind her and then closing the window I had entered through. Once the room was secured, she looked at me and asked, “Did you do this to him?”
There was no way around it. “I did. But he was...he hurt my sister. He had…I had to stop him.”
She laid her face in her hand. “That devil-hearted bastard. I knew he did that with the other maids, but not Lace.” She stepped toward my sister. “By God, you poor girl.”
Kneeling in front of Lace, July took her hands and calmly said, “It’s all right, my dear. He won’t hurt you anymore and everything is going to be all right.”
Listening to the comforting things she was saying to Lace, I was stunned by the way she kept her composure. In fact, I became annoyed by it. Feeling trapped and afraid, I paced the room and pulled at my hair like a madman. “How can you be so calm?”
Holding tight to Lace’s hand, July looked at me and said, “This is not my first visit with death, or murder for that matter. And if I’d known he was doing this to her, I would have killed him.”
She turned back to Lace, whispered a few more words, and then helped her to her feet.
Astonished by how easily she got Lace to move, I listened in on what she was saying. “Your brother saved you. And he will always protect you. Now, you must go with him and you do not need to worry about a thing. Mason will keep you safe.”
As she planted Lace next to me, I said, “I can’t just leave this in your hands, July. If I disappear, everyone will know I did it.”
She took my hands. “Let me help you. I’ve known a lot of men, Mason, and none of them were very nice. You are a good man and your genuine concern for your sister is so...admirable.” Tears filled her eyes. “If you stay any longer, you will be found out and I don’t want to think of the consequences. For you or Lace. She needs you and you need to get her out of here.”
She was right. It would be best for Lace if we left, but… “What will you tell them?”
“I’ll tell everyone someone broke in. They killed Timothy and tried to hurt me, but you saved me. Yes. I’ll tell them you saved me but they took Lace. And you ran after her.”
“No one will believe that.” I shook my head nervously.
She grabbed my shoulders. “No one will believe that you killed your master in cold blood. They will, however, fully understand the part of the story where you, the young man every living person on this property respects and admires, chased after a burglar who took your sister.”
As if I had agreed, she took the lords coat off the hook. “It will be cold at night. Take this. And here,” She opened a drawer and handed me a purse of money and a Holy Bible, then moved a chair over to the fireplace, hopped up on it, and grabbed the sword over the mantle. “And this. Take this as a weapon and a tool. I wish I could give you more, but you must hurry.”
Accepting the offerings, I said, “Thank you, July. Someday, somehow, I will repay you for this.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck and held me tight. Kissing me on the cheek, she said, “The way you restored my faith in mankind is payment enough. Now, go.”
Following her orders, I helped Lace out the window, and hid in the shrubs until I heard July scream for the gatekeepers help. The moment the entrance was clear, I led Lace off of the property. Under the red glow of the setting sun, we fled into the forest.
I knew the river that ran through town led this way, and following its course would guide us to Bristol, where a few of grandfather’s friends lived. By wagon, it took days to get there, so by foot, it would take much longer. But it was our only hope. I was in no state to face Robert, and being unsure of my stake on the property after the landlord’s untimely death, I decided to take my odds with the path along the river.
Alongside the running water, we ran throughout the night. Lace followed behind me without saying a word, but held tight to my hand every step of the way. With the sword July had given me held straight ahead of us, ready to fight or kill any animal or person who might intercept our path, I found myself feeling more afraid than I had ever felt before. But for Lace’s sake, I refused to show my worries or my fears. For her, I would be strong. For her, I would lead the way. And no matter how difficult the path ahead of us would become, I would suffer all to make sure she was all right.
When rays of morning light began shining through the canopy overhead, I decided that we had traveled far enough. Lace looked exhausted and though she still had not spoken to me, I was sure she had to be hungry like I was. Setting sight on a rock pile in the woods, I checked the caverns for animals. Once I was sure it was clear, I brought her inside. Laying out the fancy coat July had given me, I told Lace to lie down and suggested that she get some rest while I gathered what I needed to make a snare.
The sword turned out to be a rather resourceful tool, and with it, it didn’t take me long to pick, chop, and slice up all the pieces of the forest I needed to set my trap. Once that was done, I gathered a few of the berries Grandfather had taught me were safe to eat, and then headed to the cave where I planned to share them with Lace. She denied the offer, but I set a few aside for her.
While eating my meager ration, I thought about our future. With any luck, I’d find a helping hand in Bristol and somehow find a way to make a living for us. I may never be able to return to the place I once called home, but Lace and I were both alive, and if July’s plan held up, we would both be free to start a new life.
Chapter 5
&nbs
p; Senseless Sacrifice
Waking up in a cold sweat, with Lord Beckham’s dead face seared into my mind, I laid my face in my hands and rubbed my eyes. Head pounding and heart racing, it felt as if I had not slept at all. Yet, the light reflecting off the river we slept next to said otherwise. It looked to be high noon and the birds were singing songs like everything was fine. But it wasn’t. We’d made it two days through the woods already, but the ghost of the man I’d killed had followed me every step of the way, taunting me with memories of the murder I’d committed, as well as the visuals of what he’d done to incite the kill. Between my morbid memories and horrific nightmares, my sleep was no better than my wake, but I was far more concerned with Lace’s failing health than my own torment.
Other than the few times she’d broken into incoherent ramblings about home and Grandfather, she hadn’t spoken to me directly, and though I’d caught a rabbit and a few fish along the way, she hadn’t eaten more than a bite of meat and a few berries. She looked frail and weak and her condition made Bristol seem all the more distant. But our only choice was to keep moving.
After another day of hiking, and one more cold, miserable night in the woods, we came to the edge of the forest. Reaching the last row of trees, I asked Lace to take a seat on a rock and wait while I scouted out the clearing. I smelled smoke on the misty breeze, and if there were people on the path, I’d need to see what we were up against before moving on.
Stepping as lightly as I could through the crunchy sticks and leaves, I hid behind one of the bigger trees and peered out upon the valley. On this side, rolling hills were covered in green grass, while the opposing end was steep, and dark rocks protruded from the shrubs. Thick clouds rolled over the rocky hillside, but the fog below had cleared enough that I could see a few stone houses dotted along the hillside. Grey smoke billowed out of the chimneys, blending with the early morning mist, and the ray of sun breaking through the clouds shone down on the town at the bottom of the oddly enchanting valley.
From this distance I could hear the church bell ringing and I could see people heading in that direction. Apparently, it was Sunday.
Knowing Lace needed care as soon as possible, but also considering my need to be cautious upon my return to civilization, I set my sights on the house at the farthest edge of town, and nearest me.
The two-story house and the stone wall surrounding it were painted white, while the shutters and the top of the wall were a blue-green color. Judging by the colorful curtains and flowerbeds in the windows, I assumed a woman lived there. When spotting the smoke billowing from the workshop across the yard outside of the wall, I figured there was a man at work and decided it best to speak with him.
While leading Lace across the meadow, I told her my plans. Even though she didn’t respond, I felt better being able to relay to her that help was in reach.
Drawing nearer to the workshop, I heard the sound of a hammer pounding against steel. Taking note of the tools and devices under the outdoor shade cover, I realized we’d come upon a blacksmith’s shop. Feeling a little nervous, I took a deep breath and prayed that something good would come of this visit. Ready as I could be, I knocked on the open door.
Looking up from the fire, the black haired, blue eyed young man with a clean shaven face, squinted at me and then held his finger up to signal me to wait.
Waiting patiently as he finished his work, I watched the way the wind blew through the tall grass of the meadow we’d just walked across. Even considering our current destitute, the pleasant sight assured me that we were better off here than we were at Lord Beckham’s, and reminded me that I was now free to make a life for myself. Just as I began drifting into pleasant memories of my view of the field from Grandfather’s prized window, and started thinking that I might one day have another place like that to call home, the short and thin blacksmith came over to greet me.
“Sorry about the wait. I was just stamping my forge on that blade, and that’s always harder than I want it to be.” Smiling, he reached his hand out to shake mine. “Welcome to VS Forge. Owner and Master Blacksmith, Veran Smith. Yes, I am truly a blacksmith named Smith. What can I call you?”
“Mason Bentley.” I shook his hard hand. “Lucky coincidence on the name, huh?”
“Everyone jokes about it, so now I just get it out of the way.” The young man chuckled. “What can I help you with, Mister Bentley?”
“Well, my sister and I have been traveling and she isn’t feeling well. She’s in need of care. Might you know where the nearest doctor is?”
“As another lucky coincidence, my mother who lives with me just happens to be a healer.”
Ready to give him all I had in order to see my sister taken care of, I rummaged through my pocket to grab the purse of coins July had given me. “I don’t have much money, but...”
Waving his hand at me to stop my search, he said, “Can you work?”
“That’s all I know how to do,” I answered quickly, since I had already planned to offer a hand to whoever would be willing to help us.
“Keep your money,” Veran said. “I could use a hand out here in the shop, so if you’re interested in helping me, my mother can help your sister. And as long as you can pull your weight I’ll house you till she’s well.”
Thrilled by the news, a sigh of relief fled my mouth. “I can’t thank you enough, sir. I’ll pull my weight and hers.” Just like I had done during our trek through the forest. But Veran didn’t need to know that. All he needed to know was my name, and that I was thankful for the generous trade.
X
Veran’s mother, Lucy, was a sweet old Lady who spent the passing months taking care of Lace like I imagined my grandmother would have if she had lived long enough to do so. She gave her a room of her own upstairs, bathed her, washed her nightgowns, and brought her meals right on time every day. Lace still wasn’t eating much, and though every night I read to her from the Bible, she still wouldn’t speak to me. Even now that she was clean, safe, and cared for, her mood hadn’t changed a bit, which made me think she had fallen very ill, but Lucy insisted there was nothing physically wrong with her.
“She’s simply not interested in living,” the old woman said.
But that wasn’t enough for me to lose faith. In fact, I convinced myself that she’d eventually pull out of her rut, and the hope I had in my heart allowed me the peace of mind I needed to enjoy my days in the workshop.
I’d always been intrigued by the work of the blacksmith in my hometown, and learning the ways of the trade thrilled me to the core. I couldn’t have had a better teacher than Veran. The little man—who needed help lifting heavy things and washed his hands with fragrant soap—was a hard worker who was dedicated to his trade, and fair with his customers. Funny and witty, his positive attitude made the day’s work seem more like a pastime than a chore, and he was sincerely eager to teach me all he knew.
On top of all the things I’d been learning about making and using weapons, I had also been enjoying our days at the Tuesday market. There, we would set up a tent to sell the weapons and tools we made, as well as to take custom orders. On these days, I mingled with the townsfolk, flirted with the pretty girls, and took my time admiring the craftsmanship of the other merchants. Finding myself especially pleased by the work of the town seamstress, I’d started saving the meager wages Veran had begun paying me in hopes to one day get something nice to wear.
For the first time in a long time, I was happy with my life, and as summer came to an end, I started thinking I just might forget about Bristol and stay here.
One evening after work, as we started cleaning up our tools, Veran said to me, “You know, Mason, you’ve done a damn good job around here, and to show my appreciation for your help, I want to let you make a weapon of your own.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. Your mother is taking good care of my sister, and I’ve got a bed to sleep in. Plus, you’re paying me more than we bargained for in the first place, and all that is more than enough
appreciation.”
“My mother likes taking care of Lace. It gives her something to do. And that shitty ol’ haystack you call a bed is hardly a fair trade for the work you put in around here. My profits have almost doubled since you came along and you’re due for a raise. So, as your boss, I insist.” He pointed at me as if he were scolding me. “Now, what do you want to make?”
“All right, all right,” I laughed, then let my mind wander back on all the pieces we’d made over the months. Scratching my head, I relayed my thoughts out loud, “Well, I always used to carry an axe on my belt, and I like having a knife on hand, but that sword I have made for a mighty fine tool during my trek through the forest. It’d be nice to make one of my own design.”
“Sword it is.” He clapped his hands. While gathering the needed supplies, he said to me, “I couldn’t help but notice how that sword is mighty nice for a man who came here wearing rags, dragging his sickly sister through the forest. Where did you get it?”
My mind instantly flashed over the dreadful events that led that sword into my possession. The recovery of the painful memories I’d been struggling to repress caused me to tense up. “Only the devil and I know that.”
His eyes widened. “I like that answer. It inspires intrigue.”
I squinted at him.
After chuckling at my expression, he said, “I know you have secrets, Mason. It’s plain to see that you ran from something, but judging by your character I reckon you only did what you had to do. And I’ll have you know right now that I won’t fault you for it.”
I didn’t say a word.
He stepped closer. “I have my own bed of secrets I lay in, ones that would have me cast out of this town if anyone found I was harboring them.”
“I don’t want to know what those secrets are.” I fanned my hand at him.
He stepped closer yet.
The way he was encroaching upon my space made me think he was one of those men who liked men. Considering the way he often eyed the flowers in his mother’s garden, and thinking back on how unusually sweet he was with his beloved horse, I had already wondered if that was the case, but I hadn’t imagined him trying to rub up on me. Preparing to punch him if need be, I wondered what I’d do with Lace once I lost my job.
King of My Nightmare (King of My Nightmare, Book 1): Endless Horizon Pirate Stories Page 7