He pounded on the wooden door with the hilt of his sword.
“There’s no hiding from fate, Callous! I will get through this door, and when I do I shall slit your throat!”
There was no answer from within. Sir Pontious retreated a few steps from the door, lowered his shoulder and plowed into the door. A loud crack rang out and the brace split in two causing the door to burst open – the momentum took Pontious to the floor and landed him at Callous’s feet.
Before Pontious could react, Callous thrust his own sword, piercing an exposed piece of skin under Pontious’s breast plate. He grunted in agony. Callous kicked the sword from his grasp and it slid across the wooden floor skidding to a stop at the foot of a bed.
Callous rotated his sword causing immense pain. Pontious gritted his teeth and spat at his attacker.
“Ah, Sir Pontious, so glad you could come over. To what do I owe the pleasure?” Callous grinned and leaned on the sword causing it to pierce through the back.
“Cal-lous!” He screamed.
Callous grinned and raised his dark eyebrows in delight. His dark hair hung down to his shoulders causing his pale face to almost glow in the sunlight. He leaned on the sword with both hands over the hilt and his chest lay upon them causing the entirety of his small frame to bear its weight on the sword essentially pinning Sir Pontious to the floor.
“Oh Pontious, you know I had too. I didn’t have a choice. It was them or me… and you don’t want your own brother to die do you?” His grin slowly became an open mouthed laugh. The mucous and spit that had been built up in his mouth gathered at the opening and dribbled down off of his bottom lip and onto Pontious’s chest plate.
“Why? Why did you have to kill them?” Pontious eyes began to water. He was angry. Angry he wasn’t there. Angry that he couldn’t have helped and angry that he was sad.
“Simple really, I don’t want to be hanged or stoned to death, or whatever cruel punishment I may receive for my little secret. Now that they are dead and you will be joining them, my secret is still a secret,” he smiled. His expression quickly turning to curiosity, “how did you know it was me?”
“To hell with you brother, may the demons feed on your eyes and you never see Valhalla.”
“Well – that’s rude… and to think I wasn’t even planning on killing you. Now you leave me no choice,” he frowned and then smiled again as he twisted the sword causing another outburst of pain from Pontious.
“You never answered me, brother.”
He began to turn the sword again, when Pontious stopped him, “wait. I’ll tell you.”
Callous was curious. His eyebrows perked up and his grin intensified.
“You left your dagger!” Pontious brought the dagger down and through Callous’s foot. Callous howled in pain and grabbed his foot with both hands in agony. Pontious reached up and pulled the sword from his body, tossing it aside and nearly falling over from the pain. Blood oozed from the wound and under the armor, finally seeping into his wool pants. He had had only enough time to put his breast plate on before learning of Callous’s doing.
Pontious pounced on his brother knocking them both to the floor once more. The breast plate smashed against the bare body of Callous nearly taking the air from his lungs. Pontious straddled his brother and put the dagger against his throat.
“Why!?” Pontious screamed as spittle flew from his mouth and spattered onto his brother’s face.
Callous laughed.
Pontious pulled his brothers hair and slammed his head down to the floor, “why damn you!?”
Callous laughed again. “You always were oblivious to reality.”
He continued his hold on Callous’s hair and held the dagger close enough to his throat to draw blood.
Callous sighed, “I guess it doesn’t really matter now,” he sighed for a second time, and then began his tale:
“Twenty three years ago, our mother, the Queen, ventured to Scavenger Bay to negotiate a treaty with the dreaded pirate Stevens. They were to negotiate safe passage to all the King’s vessels in and out of the harbor. Oh you know this history brother. The merchant ships began doing business with the pirates and now Scavenger Bay is the seas biggest trading stop. The pirate’s no longer pirate and our ships no longer need safe passage.”
Pontious nodded. He had indeed learned all of this before in their teaching from Grand Master Vatterom.
“What you don’t know brother, is that Grand Master Vatterom left out some very important details. For example, our great departed mother wasn’t an expert in negotiations. Our great father, the King was though. He always could get what he wanted, even if that meant sacrificing his wife to a vile pirate. He sent her there knowing she’d be raped over and over, for among all things, that’s what pirate Stevens wanted – our mother. Vatterom also forgot to tell us another vital piece of information. Our father the King was secretly castrated at birth – meaning neither you nor I are rightful heirs.”
A swarm of feelings surrounded Pontious. Anger, fear, surprise… they all boiled to a somewhat blank stare and for a brief moment, the dagger slipped away from Callous’s throat.
Seizing the opportunity, Callous shoved his brother off to the side of him and onto the floor. The dagger cut him on the forearm sending blood splattering all over the floor. Pontious slid on his side nearly cutting himself with the dagger.
Callous tried to stand up, but could not walk on his injured foot. The pain sent him flailing around but he was able to catch himself on the window’s ledge before falling to the floor.
“Almost bought it there,” he breathed a sigh of relief.
Suddenly he felt himself falling through the air. Just before Callous hit the ground and became one with the demons, he saw his brother’s head poke out of the open tower window… grinning from ear to ear.
Now that his brother was out of the way, Pontious would be King of Kesselock. It was only a matter of time before his dim, hot-headed brother found out the truth and killed the last two remaining people who knew the family secret. He was surprised and a bit in awe that his brother could take out both Votterom and the King at the same time. After all the King was a great warrior and Votterom was a skilled archer – ambushing them while they were taking their weekly bath was brilliant. He applauded his brother and then laughed – he had had it a lot easier when he had killed their mother.
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