FOREVER KNIGHTS: #7 King of Assassins

“Would she have done something to Liam?” Bast asked in his usual methodic way. Trying to determine what'd happened.

Mardichi’s face crumpled and Bast instantly wished he could’ve taken the brutal words back.

I was trying to help with determining what’d happened.

“I’m sorry for saying that, Mardi. I’m a fool. I meant no insult on your mate.”

“I know that.” Mardichi whispered. “I can’t believe she’d ever hurt him. That lad was ’er world! She easily loved him even more then she cared for me. We were good together. What happened?”

“Cimmerii.”

“I’ll find her. I won’t ever stop looking.” Mardichi vowed. Anger spurring his conviction. “And she’ll pay for leaving me with our dead son and no answers.” He shook his head. “Without explanation!” His face tightened. “She’s going to pay!”

“Don’t be hasty, Friend.” Bast tried to catch Mardichi’s arm, but the redhead already strode past him. And Bast was too weak to stop him, just now.

Mardichi paused at the doorway barely noting his friends dilapidated state. “Are you well enough to be alone?”

Bast couldn’t answer. It chaffed his pride to admit his weakness but there was no denying his vulnerability after sending out so many dragons. Not all of them have yet returned.

And their convening back under my skin is just as painful as when they dig out. His skin struggling to heal in between each animal’s return within his torso.

Bast blew a steadying breath, wishing to reassure his friend but unsure what to say.

But Mardichi, even in his fury and anguish understood the silence for what it was. “I’ll wait for you.” He said quietly. “But I must be alone to think. I’ll be outside.”

Bast nodded in understanding. Knowing Mardichi would guard the door until Bast recuperated enough to make it to WaterRose for a recharge.

Mardichi sat outside. Pulling a pipe from his pocket and lighting it. Puffing on it thoughtfully. He watched the gold, yellow and black dragons pouring from the trees and dashing through the meadow embracing the cottage as they returned. They passed Mardichi in numbers heading back inside.

Mardichi winced when he heard Bast grunting against the pain and occasionally an agonized yell escaped as the creatures dug their way back into his body.

Mardichi knew the pain Bast suffered when doing this and understood Bast’s sacrifices to try and help him. But Mardichi’s rage was too powerful to offer his friend the proper thanks.

Finally, Bast materialized in the doorway, weak, white and sweating. He’d thrown his tunic back over his shoulders but blood soaked through in several spots.

“Ready to return to the stronghold?”

Bast nodded and blew a long breath. “Are you?”

Mardichi nodded, teeth gritted.

“Where will we bury your son?” Bast winced as he uttered the words. Aching for his friend.

“Here.” Mardichi nodded toward the cottage. “You forget. I’m a barbarian.”

Bast stumbled further from the house and Mardichi dropped to a knee to touch the wood at the base of the house. Immediately an orange and yellow flame blazed to life. Quickly licking the side of the house before consuming it.

Bast put a hand to Mardichi’s back, swaying unsteadily but still attempting to offer comfort.

They watched until nothing remained of the home that Mardichi had shared with his precious wife.

To Sebastian’s surprise Mardichi caught one of Bast’s arms and tugged it over his shoulder to help him walk. Mardichi walked him step for step up the mountain and into the stronghold. Taking time to ensure Bast was situated in the parlor before aiming back toward the door of the castle.

Bast watched the barbarian’s long stride and sensed it’d be a long while before they saw him again.

“Mardichi,” He called.

“Aye?” Mardichi gave him a sideways look over his shoulder.

“If you’ve need of me, you call me.”

Mardichi’s head bobbed absentmindedly as he headed out.

To Bast’s utter horror, as Mardichi reached the door of the foyer he shouted to the upper floor.

“Your man has returned, and he’s in poor state! Take care tending him valkyrie!”

Bast heard the rapid beat of footsteps coming downstairs and dropped his head back. Already envisioning the hateful, resenting look she’d give him.

She did just that. Fists working frantically as her eyes turned lava red.

“Please don’t.” He shook his head limply. “I’m too weary.”

“That’s no fault of mine!” She harped.

Bast groaned, surrendering to what was to come.

“I’ve yet to give you my full mind about your strange behaviors and your lengths of absenteeism.”

Until now.

Here it comes. He groaned.