InsaneJournal

“Dad?”

“Go inside, Ven,” said Carus quietly, well aware of the two men standing behind his son.  He glared at them, daring them to make a move towards the boy if they dared.  If they did, and they harmed him, they’d damn well regret it

Ventin glanced behind him at the two men then looked at his father again.  After a moment, he leaned his axe against the woodcutting stump and started very carefully towards the house, looking back over his shoulder every few moments.  When he finally disappeared through the front door, Carus turned burning eyes towards the two men standing in front of him.

“So…come to kill me?”

“You and your wench,” snarled the shorter of the pair.  He then cackled and licked the curved blade of his dagger.  “Kids though…we’ll have some fun with them.”

Carus just stared blankly at him, one eyebrow arched as if to say ‘So?’.  Inside, rage swelled up and snapped like an animal at the end of a short leash that he kept in a very firm grip.  Right up until he was ready to let it loose, that is.

The taller of the pair smiled and said, “Things are running different in the Guild now, Carus, old boy.  Those that leave…well, no one’s allowed to leave on their own two feet.”

“So Ventin’s dead, then.”

It wasn’t a question but the shorter man giggled, answering, “I cut him up all nice and fed him to his dogs.”

“How pleasant, Giron,” said Carus blandly.  “I’m sure the Rusk and Kibb enjoyed that ever so much.”  He then looked at the other man and narrowed his eyes, rage roaring in his ears.  “And you, Cal.  I’m going to assume you’re the new leader of the Guild?”

“Well we couldn’t let crazy old Giron here run things, now could we?” asked Cal pleasantly.  “Now, be a good old chum and tell us where your wench is.”

“How should I know?”

“What do you mean?” asked Giron, actually confused.

“I’m not her keeper,” replied Carus with a cold smile.

Cal scowled and stepped forward, swiftly cracking his fist against Carus’ cheek.  He went sprawling at the blow, having not been expecting it, and lay in the grass for a moment.  Then he slowly rose to his feet and brushed off his pants, straightening the half-cloak he wore over his bare chest to hide his wings.

“Well then,” he said with false pleasantry as he turned back towards the pair.  “I suppose that’s that.”

Cal blinked, confused, then spun around as something abruptly grabbed Giron from behind.  Carus moved across the space between them, picking up the axe his son had left, and swung the flat end of the head towards the other man’s knee.  Bone cracked and he went down with a ragged scream of pain, trying desperately to draw one of the knives at his belt.

There was a grunt from nearby and Carus turned to see Giron stepping away from Kara, his blade dripping blood.  She was still on her feet and moving back, one hand pressed to her side, but the deed was already done.  The rage burning through him burst off of its leash a moment later and as cackling distracted Giron, taunting Kara with his knife, Carus sprinted towards him.

Blinded by rage, he swung the axe and poor Giron turned at the last moment to meet the blow.

The sound of the blade hitting flesh and bone and smashing through made Carus grin madly.

Before the corpse had even hit the ground, he spun and leapt back towards the half-risen Cal, wings flapping free of his cloak.  He slammed into the other man with a furious howl and dug the sharp claws on his bare toes through his shirt and into flesh.  The knife that whipped across his face wasn’t expected but Carus grabbed at it, smashing the hand gripping the blade bloody against the woodcutting stump.  Snatching the knife from the limp grip, he jammed it against the man’s throat, the rage screaming at him to kill.

But he just smiled and growled, “What now, Cal Drake?  Giron’s dead and…”  A crossbow bolt whipped past him and he laughed at the boy who held it in a shaking grip some distance away.  “And all you have is a boy who can’t shoot.”

“The question is more what are you going to do, Carus,” snarled Cal.  “Kill me?  The Guild will keep hunting you down.  That’s our new law and we enforce it.”

Carus gave him a smile that could freeze and purred, “I’ll kill every one of them that comes near me and mine.  You should’ve known that.”

“You’ve gone soft.”

“Then why am I still alive with Giron dead and you at the end of your own blade?”

Cal glared at that and Carus bared his teeth in a parody of a smile.  Then he looked over his shoulder at Kara, arching an eyebrow in a silent query.  She stared back at him for a moment then her gaze turned towards their home and stayed there until his face shifted that way as well.

Their children Ventin and Miralla, both fifteen, stood in the open doorway in each other’s arms – being twins, they always sought comfort in each other when their parents weren’t available.  Over his sister’s head, Ventin’s eyes caught his father’s then he looked away, folding his arms further around her and rustling his under-sized wings.  She stared for a moment then buried her face in her brother’s neck, shielding them both with her perfectly normal wings.

Carus met Kara’s gaze again and she stared at him with murder in her eyes.  No one threatened their children and walked away intact.

“Seems you’re about to have a bad day, old friend,” he hissed as he turned back towards Cal.

“The Guild will find you.”

Carus smiled coldly at that and spat, “I’ll be waiting with a blade under my pillow.”  He then pulled his arm back sharply, hearing Kara bark, “Ven, Alla, face’s away!  YOU TOO, WILLS!”  Then he dove forward and the blade of the knife cleanly drove into Cal’s throat, ripping it open and spattering Carus’ face and chest with his blood.

Slowly he stood up and turned towards the boy, who had long since dropped his crossbow in the grass.  Glaring, he hissed, “Kara?”

“He’s Jirra’s son, Rus,” she said as she came towards him.  “I doubt any other boy in the world has a birthmark in just that spot.”

The boy, who indeed had a dark mark on his cheek that Carus had first taken as dirt, twitched then babbled, “Please, please, please d-don’t kill me.”

Carus snorted and growled, “We’re not going to kill you, whelp.  Your mother’s a damn fine thief and woman – I’m not about to rob her of her boy when you’ve been dragged here against your will, no doubt.”

“Er…”

He chuckled and continued, “Go back home, boy.  Tell your mother and Gideon, if she’s still with the man, that they’re welcome to leave that madness and join us.  She knows where to leave notes for me to find.  Now get!”

Wills jumped then turned and ran, leaving his crossbow in the grass and the bodies of the two thieves behind him.  Carus watched him go then lifted a hand to his face, gingerly touching the wound that slashed across it, finding it to go from one cheekbone to the bridge of his nose and just having missed his eye.  He’d gotten damn lucky.

“We’ll take care of the bodies and our wounds then leave,” he said as he let his hand fall back to his side.  “You alright?”

“I’m fine, Rus,” assured Kara.  “He didn’t get the blade in as far as he thought.”

Carus nodded then wrapped an arm around her shoulders loosely, one wing coming around to enfold her gently.  His expression turned stormy and thunderous after a moment and he bared his teeth as he stared down at Cal’s corpse.  Kara’s hand came up to rest on his arm as she felt the violent tremble rush through his whole body.

“How dare they?” he hissed.  “How dare they?!”

“We’re okay, Rus.”

“They came after my family.  If Ventin were alive and knew of this…he’d have them hung from the town hall naked and slit from throat to groin.  You do not bring harm to anything of a fellow thief!”

Kara frowned and whispered, “You know none of the new one’s go by the old code.”

“Cal was raised to that code the same as I was,” snarled Carus.  He viciously kicked the rapidly cooling corpse.  “I called him brother once!”

She blinked, confused beyond words.  Even in their years together, she had never seen Carus get this emotional about anything – he just wasn’t a man to show his emotions that often.  Oh, he was a wonderful father and husband but there weren’t many situations that got a reaction like this.

This was…this was betrayal.

Frowning, Kara softly said, “He can’t be called that anymore.”

He bowed his head at that, eyes shut, and bared his teeth as his whole body tensed up.  Then he went slack and sighed heavily.

“No,” he agreed after a moment, “he hadn’t earned that title for a long while.”  Looking towards the house, he continued, “Come.”

As they walked forward, the twins looking up expectedly, Kara murmured, “I guess this was a fool’s paradise.”

Carus stopped abruptly at those words and looked down at her, his gaze actually open for once.  And she was both awed and afraid of the power of the emotions that boiled underneath his calm façade.

“If I could,” he softly said, his voice suddenly as gentle as the feathers of his wings, “I’d give you one that wasn’t dreamt up by a fool.”

“But you can’t, Rus.”

He turned away, expression closed off again – the moment of openness was gone.  “No,” he said as they continued towards the house.  “No, I can’t.”

Kara nodded and moved away from him towards the twins as they reached the steps.  Just before she folded her arms around her frightened children, she heard Carus whisper one last thing.

“But I will damn well try."