Dragon Tamer - Book 1

Chapter 60

Breen let Marcie go when her sobs subsided to nothing.

Her eyes were dry but wide and staring.

He glanced over to where Ketsa stood shivering in terror.

Revulsion filled him when he looked at his one time lover cradling his broken fingers, fingers broken by the very woman he conspired to violate.

Only fear had driven him to seek help, for his companions, not the not so helpless woman they had assaulted.

Breen had taken Far sighted Damnion's watch, as the man was resting and so, luckily, had been the only one awake when Ketsa crashed into the camp. He had not said a word, until Breen threatened him casually with his knife, at which point he spilled the plan he, Freddie and Noal had concocted, the scheme falling like foul slugs from his mouth, peppered with fear and cowardice.

Even he could not have predicted what they would find.

He passed Marcie his waterskin, she took it in trembling hands and gulped down the cool liquid quickly.

She moved away from him and put her arms around her knees, taking deep breaths. She made no move to continue her assault on Six Fingered Freddie. But she needn't have.

Six Fingered Freddie's unseeing eyes stared straight up, a glassy hue obscuring their depths. He was undoubtedly dead.

Noal was whimpering softly, curled upon himself he clutched his face as blood poured steadily through his fingers.

Breen approached him.

"Noal" he said, soflty, "Noal, look at me"

The huge man, curled up tighter with a pathetic moan.

"Noal" Breen said, even softer, "It is me, Breen, look at me"

Eventually Noal turned his head towards the voice he recognised and slowly moved his hand away from his face with a sob.

Breen recoiled.

Marcie had taken Noal's eye. An arrow head stuck out of the soft fleshy ball, while his soft cheek had been ripped apart, skin and muscle hung in clumps and one of his nostrils had been severed.

"Whad she do ta me?" Noal moaned, his voice was high pitched, it sounded like a childs. He rocked himself, cupping his ruined cheek in one large meaty hand, the other scrambled on the mossy rock.

Breen did not answer.

He looked back at Marcie's huddled form, then back to the huge man who had tried and failed to dominate her, reduced to a snivelling, simpering wreck of a man.

He slowly reached down and lifted a large fist sized rock from the ground, it was roughly rounded on one side and jagged on the other. He held it on the rounded side so the jagged edge faced outward.

Then he looked at Marcie, lying helpless on the ground. Her long thick hair had come loose from its plait and covered her face.

He lifted the rock.

And brought it down hard on Noal's exposed temple.

The first blow, caused Noal to shudder, his limbs went loose, his remaining eye suddenly drooped and he made a gurgling gasping sound. The second blow caused his eye to close and the bone where the rock hit cave in. The third and fourth blow did nothing more than allow Breen to exercise his rage. And the rest merely to ensure the job was done.

When Breen eventually looked up from the bloody mess of broken bone that had been Noal's skull he saw Ketsa vomiting into a bush and Marcie watching him was wide, far seeing eyes.