Wrath
Gareth crested the hill and stepped onto the rock-strewn ledge overlooking the valley far below. His legs shook from the effort of the long climb, but he ignored these minor discomforts. Today rage propelled him. Abornial stood before him, dressed in a fine silk tunic, smug smile plastered across his face.
“Gareth,” he said in greeting.
Gareth said nothing, he simply stood there staring.
“O come now; we both know what we’re here to do,” Abornial said. “You might as well greet me. Your silence does nothing to intimidate me.”
“I have no desire to banter with a snake like you,” Gareth responded. “Your visage disgusts my eyes. I will not have your name foul my mouth.”
Abornial wandered back and forth upon the plateau, making a show of his complete disinterest.
“Gareth my boy, drop that self-righteous act!” Abornial said. “You don’t have to play the hero with me. I know she was just a warm body to fill your bed at night.”
Gareth seethed with quiet anger at these words. “I loved her, and she loved me,” his only response.
“Interesting…I was not aware that whores could feel love, and she was a whore Gareth, this we both know.”
Gareth’s blade leaped from its scabbard as he swung in a vicious arc for Abornial’s throat. Abornial’s own sword came up to parry the attack and in a swift motion he shoved Gareth back. Gareth instantly regained his footing and charged in for an underhanded blow attempting to open Abornial from hip to shoulder. Abornial danced out of the path of the blade and lashed out. The impact of the blow on his blade shook Gareth’s bones to their core. Abornial liked to play the part of foppish nobleman, but beneath his eccentric attire was a body corded with thick slabs of muscle. The two warriors clashed steel once, then twice more, before both moving back to assess their opponent.
“This is where you die Abornial! Believe me when I tell you that you shall never walk down this mountaintop. I will leave your body here exposed to the elements.”
Abornial said, “You want me to apologize? Beg for your mercy? For killing some wretched whore?! Look, Gareth, I…”
He lunged in for a quick thrust, intending to skewer Gareth on the tip of his blade before he could react. But Gareth sidestepped the thrust and slammed the pommel of his sword into the murderer’s face. Abornial’s nose exploded in a shower of crimson.
“I will leave you here,” Gareth said. “My sword driven through your wasting body and into this very earth we stand upon. People from all over the ten kingdoms will speak of my wrath here. A monument will be erected. Not in honor of your memory, but as a precautionary against your folly.”
Abornial laughed, a wicked sound full of delight. “Kill me you may! But that won’t change anything! You will still burn with hatred for yourself! Her mind betrayed her in the end you know. O how she cried out for you Gareth as my knife kissed her fair skin again and again! I tried to assure her you would not be joining us, but she would have none of it! Come to think of it, she may have actually thought that I was you. After far too long she begged for death, and I being the merciful lord I am, granted her final request.”
The two warriors leaped for each other once more, the sound of their blades an ominous prediction of the storm clouds in the distance. Abornial tried to cut Gareth’s legs out from under him with a sweeping strike. Gareth easily stepped over the whistling blade. His own sword whipped out and took Abornial in the arm. A patch of fabric began to darken where Gareth left his mark.
Realizing the duel was nearing its end, Abornial screamed in frustration, “You’re pathetic! How could you, a man all of us hold in such high regard, have fallen for a common whore?”
Gareth advanced on Abornial in a fury of vengeance, the tempest of his onslaught too much for the wounded lordling. Abornial fell to the ground in his haste to retreat.
“You could never understand the love I felt for that woman,” Gareth said. “Not in a hundred lifetimes. It is beyond your capacity.”
“You would kill one of your own?” Abornial screamed. “You know we need all the skilled warriors we can get! You know what is coming!”
Gareth let the point of his sword lower as he stopped to consider Abornial’s words.
“Monsters to our fore, surrounded by conniving allies,” Gareth said. “Even so, I would not have you stand beside me.”
Abornial replied, “Fool! You will…”
Gareth’s blade took him through the mouth, exploding out the back of his skull and driving deeply into the earth.
Author Bio
Owen Ybarra is a senior at California State University, San Marcos where he is majoring in Literature and Writing. He is an avid fantasy reader and as a result most of his writing is fantastical in nature. Owen lives by the beach in Oceanside and tries to surf most mornings.