Chapter 17. Retribution

  Hardwright witnessed the carnage with satisfaction on his face. He stalked away from Theodren to better watch the spectacle of Theina’s violence. She would make an excellent addition to his collection. The Cardinal had collected many promising young acolytes over the years. Ambitious youngsters like Theina would rise to prominence, and in his generosity he would offer them patronage. Taking them under his wing until the time was right, and then he would seize control.

  What few peers he had thought that he used his thread for mind control. He scoffed at the idea. Mind control was lazy, crude and unimaginative. His influence was far superior to paltry mind control. From a young age Lusis used his thread to worm its way into the minds of his victims. Seizing control of their frontal lobe he attacked their sense of self, imposing his will over theirs leaving just the tiniest fragment of their mind intact to witness his workings. He knew that while Theina was busy killing the townspeople with gusto. In her mind a part of her would remain a captive passenger, able to witness but not influence her actions. Hardwright reveled in his superiority. This carnage of her own making would break her. And when the guilt finally fractured her mind, he would erase every facet of her being. His tongue ran along his lips; she would truly be his to do with as he pleased.

  ***

  Theodren could not look away from the devastation playing out before him. It was his fault. All of the death that took place here today was on him, and him alone. There would be no mysterious God to offer him salvation. He was alone amidst the broken bodies of his friends. He felt a wriggling on his arm and he startled. Perhaps not totally alone.

  The vineling slithered up his arm to the collar of his robe, poking out at the hand that held Theodren down by the shoulder. Theodren glared up at the man, grinning stupidly at the carnage around him, Theodren peered deep into his Vitae, into his soul. A swirl of muddy colors affronted Theodren’s inner eye. It was a soul corrupted by a lifetime of cruelty and indifference. That the man had a soul at all angered Theodren to his core.

  “You don’t deserve it.” Theodren growled. The guard looked down at him “Wha?” The vineling found the wound on the man's hand, a small cut from where he had struck Lester’s tooth. The vineling coiled up like a snake, and launched itself into the wound, burrowing deep into the man's flesh. He screamed, “He got me! Somethin’s got me! What is ‘at!?”

  Theodren felt the vineling burrow deeper into the man's arms, deeper into his chest where it coiled around the man’s black heart. Greedily it siphoned Vitae from the man’s vital organs. His right arm now unsecured, Theodren swung a wild haymaker at the panicked guard holding his other shoulder.

  Theodren rose to his feet, anxious to dispatch the two men before the other guards took notice. His rage boiled over, slamming fist after fist into the man's face. The guard’s hands flailed and slapped at him as he rained blow after furious blow into the broken face. With a wet crack, Theodren felt the front of the man’s skull cave inward.

  Almost immediately, he felt the pulverized guard’s vitae rush toward his fist, seeking an outlet, seeking life. Theodren absorbed it with alacrity. There was not much to be had, but it would have to be enough.

  Theodren rushed the two guards who had been holding Evan on his knees before his final stand. The men were preoccupied with the screaming guard, who scrabbled at his chest, trying to dislodge the vineling that roiled beneath his skin.

  In a berserker rage that would do his father proud, he grabbed the men by the backs of their collars slamming them hard into the ground. Dazed and wheezing from the impact, they could only lay there as Theodren stomped his leather boot through the first man’s skull and then the second. Their vitae flowed into him as he turned to the whimpering and weakened guard on his knees. The vineling bulged under the man’s skin from within his stomach. It had feasted heartily off of the man’s vitae growing to twice its original size.

  A whine came from the hollow, sunken face of the guard. “What is this? What did you do to me?” Theodren’s cold glare roved over the vineling’s handiwork. The man was but a shadow of himself from mere moments ago. The Priest held out his hand towards the man’s chest and answered. “Retribution.” Hearing it’s new name, the Vineling burst from the man’s chest, an eruption of gore quickly changing into the familiar handle of Theodren’s hammer. When Theodren expected it to stop growing, it did not. It was still his hammer, but it now stood at equal height with him, its head now covered in gruesome spikes and wrapped in barbed and bloody vines. He took hold of the weapon. As he did, it relinquished its grip on the guard's ruined corpse, which fell to the ground in a rattle of empty armor.

  One of the Cardinal’s two remaining guards turned at the sound that was at odds with the chorus of screams rising from the town. His brows shot to his hairline as he quickly alerted his companion to the enraged and bloodied beast of a man stomping toward them, Retribution in hand. Hardwright witnessed none of this, enraptured as he was with his latest conquest.

  The first guard jabbed a spear at Theodren’s midsection, hoping the threat would keep him at distance. But if the guard was under the impression that Theodren was interested in avoiding pain he was sorely mistaken. The spear buried itself in Theodren’s ribs, lodging itself in tightly. Theodren roared at the man as he snapped the shaft with his left hand before bringing Retribution to bear in his right. The mighty hammer slammed into the first guard's head as he clung to his now useless spear. A sickening crunch filled the air as the force of the blow removed his head from his shoulders. Theodren yanked the spear head from his already closing wound as he stomped over the first guard's headless body, absorbing its Vitae as he passed.

  The second guard threw down his spear, opting for a short sword and buckler instead. He readied himself as Theodren approached, planning parries, dodges and counter strikes to a number of opening blows Theodren might attempt. What he was not prepared for was the speed with which Theodren closed the distance. Retribution now gripped in both hands, He swung with the full force of his rage at the insignificant man between him and the Cardinal. The second guard raised his buckler just in time to catch the savage blow, but it was no use. The hammer cleaved through shield, muscle and bone like wet cloth, crushing everything in its path. The second guard was tossed aside like a ragdoll, landing in a broken heep just feet from Hardwright who jumped at the disturbance from his victorious self praise. As he turned to see the cause, for the first time that day. His smile wavered.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Theodren made a gruesome sight as he stalked toward the Cardinal. Six and a half feet of rage and muscle covered in the blood and gristle of Hardwright’s guards, Wielding a truly massive hammer, covered in cruel barbed vines that appeared alive in the giant’s hands.

  “HARDWRIGHT!” Roared Theodren as each step brought him closer to the spindly Cardinal. “FOR YOUR CRIMES AGAINST THE INNOCENTS OF THIS VILLAGE, I DECLARE YOU GUILTY AND YOUR SOUL FORFEIT!” Theodren pointed his hammer at the man. “HERE TODAY SHALL YOU FACE JUDGEMENT FOR YOUR CRIMES. STAND READY FOR YOUR RETRIBUTION.”

  “Come now.” Squeaked Hardwright. “Surely there’s some arrangement we can come to? Perhaps a larger town more suited to your obvious talent!” As he spoke Theodren saw Thread snake out from the edge of Hardwright’s sleeve faster than he could react, it lashed out, striking deep into Theodren’s mind.

  While Hardwright may have excelled at manipulating the minds of others, Theodren’s mind was stone, driven by a singular purpose. Retribution. Hardwright’s triumphant grin fell from his face as Theodren trudged ever closer, weathering the Cardinal’s assault on his mind as though he were walking through a stiff breeze.

  Finally, standing before a panting and sweaty Hardwright, Theodren stared down at the greasy man, eyes a brilliant green with Vitae and Rage. “I’m unarmed!” Whined Hardwright, falling down as he attempted to back away from the vision of wrath advancing on him.

  “So were they.” Growled Theodren. Rage filled his arms as he raised Retribution above the Cardinal’s head, the shadow of it making Hardwright flinch as he cowered from his impending judgement. Theodren brought the hammer down with all the rage, pain and strength he possessed, roaring out his rage to the darkening sky.

  In a flash of gold, Theina was there. Deflecting the hammer blow with her thread held between the blades in her hands. Still for all her speed and skill, she could not completely prevent Retribution from finding the Cardinal. Theodren’s hammer slammed down into Hardwright’s leg, pulverizing the bone and tissue beneath the man’s knee. Hardwright screamed in pain as rolled on the bloodied ground, clutching the mangled remains of his leg. “You worthless bitch! Kill him! Kill him now!”

  A flurry of blades lashed out at Theodren. Conventional wisdom would have Theodren blocking or avoiding the maelstrom of golden daggers slicing wicked lines across his body. But for Theodren, each cut was a penance. He bore Theina’s assault through gritted teeth as he responded with swings of his own weapon. Retribution whistled through the air as it sought the woman who murdered his friends, his flock and worst of all his Godchild.

  He channeled his Vitae into his arms, swinging faster and faster as she danced around him, until finally he connected. The very edge of Retribution clipped her side as she attempted to pirouette around the blow. The force of the blow flung her sidelong into one of the squat thatched houses that crumbled from her impact.

  Theodren chased after her, leaving the crippled Cardinal to whimper alone, or so he thought. Lester reappeared from behind What was once the Fiero household. With crooked gait he ran to the Cardinal. “Cardinal Hardwright, you have to stop her! She’s killing everyone!” Hardwright looked up at the teenager in confusion. “Isn’t this what you wanted boy?” He spat.

  Lester reeled. What had he wanted? What had he expected? He wanted Theodren and the townspeople to feel his humiliation, he wanted them to understand their error in ostracizing him. He wanted them to hurt, as he had hurt. When he Told the inquisitors of the change in the Priest and in the town, he assumed there would be castigation and humiliation for Theodren and for all those who dared to laugh at him. But this… There was no more mocking laughter, there were no more screams, for there was no one left alive to. “I didn’t want this.” Lester mumbled.

  A plot formed in Hardwright’s mind as he looked at the despairing child. “Bring me to my horse, I can end that bitches assault. Lester nodded quickly grabbing Hardwright under his arm, he shouldered the cardinal as best he could, dragging the cursing and groaning Cardinal to his horse. Hardwright used what thread he had left to tourniquet his mangled leg as he reached out to his saddle. Hauling himself into the saddle, he pulled a flask from his bag and drank greedily.

  Lester watched the furious battle between Theodren and Theina with mounting anxiety. If the priest really could heal people then he could fix this. He could make all the death and destruction go away. Lester would go back to being hated, but at least he wouldn’t be a murderer. He thought to himself.

  Lester watched as Theina’s thread lashed tightly around Theodren’s neck, stopping him mid furious swing. Theina’s once pristine armor was battered and broken in several places and she stood at an odd angle with a shoulder that hung lifeless beside her. But stood she did, feeling none of the pain or crushing wounds she had suffered so far.

  Theodren scrabbled at the thread around his neck, trying with all his might, to break free and continue his assault. Lester turned back to the Cardinal. “Please, you have to stop this!”

  Hardwright looked down from his flask at the boy pleading at him with tears in his eyes. Truly he was a hideous child. “Do inform Theina that when she is done with her fun, to attend me at the capitol.” Hardwright struck, like a viper at Lester with the reins. He recoiled with a surprised cry as he cupped his now bleeding eye.

  Hardwright fled. Whipping his horse hard with the lead, he gritted his teeth at the pain of his mangled leg bouncing freely against the side of his horse. Soon he was past the town, and before long he was gone into the night, free of the carnage, free of Theodren’s wrath.

  Lester cursed himself for a fool yet again, as he held his hand to the cut above his eye. He turned his eye back to the fight between Theina and the Priest. While not breaking free of her Thread, Theodren yanked on the golden string sending her flying toward him.

  “Stop!” Screamed Lester. He ran as best he could toward the two avatars of destruction as they railed against eachother. His cries fell on deaf ears as their one and only focus was the other’s demise.

  With a roar, Theodren released Retribution. The vineling retracted up his tattered sleeve as Theodren latched onto The small inquisitor with great meaty paws. Grabbing her by the neck he slammed her into the dirt. Thread forgotten, she slashed stabbed and cut at the Priest.

  Theodren merely grimaced through the pain, refusing to relinquish his grip on the woman. He glared into the face of the golden mask. If Theina felt any fear or pain, none of it showed in the dull golden eyes behind the mask. He slammed her into the dirt again and again. Squeezing the life from her as tears of rage and shame fell upon the mask from Theodren’s face.

  “STOP!” Lester threw himself at the pair, trying desperately to stop the violence. Theodren froze at the interruption, his grip easing ever so slightly. Theina’s flurry of strikes picked up speed, jabs and slashes flew in every direction, catching Lester in the throat.

  Blood gushed from the wound splashing onto The pair locked in struggle. As he fell, Lester reached for Theina’s golden mask. With what strength he had left he pulled till the mask broke free from Theina’s face with a resounding ‘RIIIP!’

  The Cardinal’s Thread binding Theina’s mind snapped free of the mask that had been anchoring his power. As her mind returned to the forefront of her being, she blinked.