ODE TO THE END: A BALLAD OF BROTHERS

CHAPTER 1

ACHIM

Sitting in the shadows of a lush lawn, Achim sighed a long sigh. He scratched the dust out of his overgrown afro before raising a piece of paper to his face. As he read the faded parchment, Achim was reminded of what he already knew: A man only known as The Sire sought protection.

He was supposed to be a high profile merchant. One known throughout the distant city-states along the Atlantic coast. Achim had never heard of him though and he had been wandering from city to sparsely dotted city  for years. It did not matter though. This Sire was rich, therefore, he was a target. His request for protection made sense and, should Achim perform the work well, his resources would be an asset to any personal endeavor. Alas, Achim was not the only one who thought so. Beyond the dark corner Achim occupied was an estate filled and dangerous characters, mercenaries, all waiting for their employer to appear.

The cobbled path that cut through the garden led to an elevated deck on the side of the home. This deck was like a royal rise, but it was vacant.  The Sire was not present, but his pretty servants could be seen working from below. Their presence completed the illusion of paradise, but an illusion was all it was. Behind the thick green trees that surrounded the entire property stood a tall cement wall that completely enclosed the estate. The only entry and exit point was a gate,  and what lay beyond that was a ruin that oozed rancid air.

The stench of roses and rot was strong, and Achim struggled to count the seconds while enduring the stench. The rich host was hours late now, but the sudden bang of a rifle broke the boredom. The bullet that had been fired shattered against an open gate. Screaming followed. Achim looked up and saw children. Street Urchins, if the roads they wandered could even be called that. They stacked on top of one another to get a glimpse of the estate they had only seen from the outside, but the children had inadvertently become targets at the end of a firing line. The bullet from the shot grazed one of them. It was a small wound, but the threat caused the kid to cry and sent the rest scattering into the wind. Some attempted to help their companion, but Achim furled a brow at the compassion.

While the children who stayed did their best to soothe their companion and make their escape, the bored mercenary that fired the first shot reloaded his rifle, took aim...BANG! Dirt flew up as the bullet hit the ground. The children were saved by the rifleman's haste. In response, the shooter assumed a proper stance and slowly found his footing. Achim could see the deadly desire in his eyes and yet he made no motion to stop him. No one did. The wanderers only turned their gazes in idle anticipation of the next shot.

"Oh, my stars," said a voice from the deck. "Look! Look Derrick! One of the men we hired is attempting to shoot at those children!"

Achim, the shooter, and the rest of the mercenaries  turned toward the high deck and saw a large man wearing nothing but a bathrobe. He stood next to a smaller, younger man with a collared shirt and a thick stack of papers in hand. As the band of mercenaries looked up at their host, the children saw an opening and took it. At the site of their fearful flight, The Sire simply laughed.

"Splendid! Just absolutely splendid. I like this band of gentlemen already. Tell me that you agree with me, Derrick."

"I agree, Sire," said the assistant.

"Good on you, assistant! Now where are those servant girls? I could use a good drink to celebrate such a capable group of men...and women by the looks of it." The Sire shouted at the nearest maid. "Fetch me a drink." The Sire made his demand and did so in a crude manner. When she fulfilled his request, he drank his beverage with one long inhale and relished the flavor. "I do love a good tall glass of orange juice. It really replenishes the reserves. Right, Derrick!" The Sire slapped his assistant on the back and the young man nearly fell off the deck. The large lord laughed upon noticing and let his assistant recover only out of some bullish amusement.