Kill Them or Let Them Be Slaves

“How about we end your destruction?” They proposed.

Chavias’ head tipped back. Chin lifting as he faced them down.

Don’t. He willed them.

“We’re going to kill you Chavias.”

There was a stillness in Chavias. A moment of realization. I could give up the fight. Let them kill me. Take all the misery away. He watched them approach.

“Yes, we’re going to kill you.” James’ expression was dark as he agreed with his brother.

Chavias leaned down to put his face in the other man’s. “Do it.”

James’ brow furrowed. He brought the dagger down into Chavias’ upper chest. The highest he could employ it with any strength.

Chavias grimaced but didn’t move.

His brother joined him by sweeping the hatchet.

Chavias grunted. Though used to being cut and slashed, the hatchet piercing into his right pectoral muscle was an unwanted experience.

James pulled another knife from his other boot and sunk it into Chavias’ ribs.

His brother pulled the first one free, shredding the muscles, which had clenched around it. Using it to stab Chavias in the bicep. As Chavias blocked his face.

“Why isn’t he moving?” The younger man asked.

“Kill him. Before he can kill us!” James shouted.

They drove their knives, stabbing and withdrawing and swiped into his sides and thick arms with the hatchet.

Chavias blew out a breath as he slumped to his knees. Surrendering to the promise of peace.

“Chavias…”

He closed his eyes against the grating sound of Radix’s chastising voice.

“You’re going to let these boys kill you?” Radix tilted to look between the men now feverishly stabbing his shoulders and back.

Seeing Radix’s withered form standing between the booths, orange eyes glowing, Chavias felt momentary terror.

“Do what you wish.” Radix dismissed, as he lifted a piece of fruit and began cutting into it with a jagged fingernail. “I will take them as my new warlords. I am sure they will be far easier to groom.”

James glanced over his shoulder back at Radix. “It’s the Demon!”

“Hurry! Finish him so we can leave.”

“Yes, do.” Radix scooped his fingers into the fruit and loudly sucked the sweet meat. “Do you suppose these boys will be as sturdy as you when they are bled?” He rasped thoughtfully. “In-fact I am quite certain I will learn much more from them. They do not know your clever tricks. Please do die. I will welcome these boys…” Radix turned and strode from the walk. Rounding the buildings and leaving.

Chavias’ head fell back in horror. Body jerking under every thrust of their knives. Knowing he weakened. Sensing the severity of his injuries.

He’ll torture them. Turn them into his slaves. The idea sickened Chavias. Imagining these spirited boys broken as Chavias had been. Shackled to the steel cot for endless hours.

They only wanted to save their brotherhood. He imagined the years of suffering they’d endure. He imagined Radix having access to two men he could send on missions rather than one.

How many knights would be exposed when these boys were drained of their blood for Radix to drink. Snarling, Chavias rose. A hulking mass reaching to his back.

“Get back down!” James grunted. Burying his knife near Chavias’ collar and trying to drive it downward enough to send Chavias back to his knees.

Chavias tossed him away with an elbow, dragging his swords out. His back heaved as he steeled himself to what he had to do. The younger brother came at him first. Chavias brought his sword down.

The younger man stepped from its trajectory.

Chavias expertly glanced to his other side and saw James returning. He swung his sword and it bit into James’ hand forcing him to drop the dagger.

James was quick enough to rip his other blade from Chavias’ chest and still managed to dodge Chavias’ curved sword.

Chavias glanced back to the younger brother and saw him turning expertly with the hatchet aimed at Chavias’ neck. Without any more attention than that glance, Chavias whipped the blade backward and it cut into the younger brother’s middle. Chavias jerked upward and forced the blade up to the sternum.

“Stop! No!” James rushed him shouting.

Chavias simultaneously blocked his stab by whipping his other sword up to protect his torso.

“How do you move like that?” James cried.

Devoting his attention to James, Chavias used brute strength to fold his arm back. Chavias let his sword fall and caught the blade when James dropped it. Tilting back enough to plant the knife up through the James’ chin. It separated the soft skin on the underside of his jaw and sunk into his vulnerable brain.

James’ arms flailed, as his nerves ticked.

Chavias swung his other sword around to instantly sever the man’s head. Ending any suffering he endured.

“No!” The younger brother gurgled from behind him. Trying to drag his body over the dirt. “Why?” He croaked.

“Why what?” Chavias crouched before him. Black eyes passionless.

“Why are you killing your own kind?” He crackled over the choking sounds of his body dying. He rolled to his back.

“You’d rather be dead.”

Then Radix’s slave.

Chavias pulled the half-moon dagger from his hip and put it through the man’s eye, watching as he stilled.

Chavias stood. Pausing to look at both defeated bodies and mourn the loss.

Shaking his head at the brutal torture tearing at his heart, his head fell back and he sent up a prayer for strength before finishing his trek to the center of Gilwynn.

Where I’ll light my bloody fires.

“They are dead.” The boy strode to stand over the corpses. Looking from one to the other made dark blonde hair swing around his forehead. His voice was eerily unemotional.

“Yes, they are.” Chavias acknowledged.

Chavias could think of rare few moments he’d hated himself more.