Another World of Dreams-The Escape

Chapter 11 - The Purgers

Joseph Wilder was ripped from sleep by a man clearing his throat.

"Not again," he muttered.

Count Bennet stood in the doorway. Next to the first officer lay the man's wife, the shape of the countess' slender body visible beneath the thin sheets. Joseph Wilder jumped out of bed and lunged for his gun, which lay on top of a pile of clothes near the door. The count drew his sword and held it out to stop him. Its tip trembled against the first officer's throat where he stood, straight and naked, not showing the slightest trace of regret. The count did not appear angry the way he expected a husband of a cheating wife to behave. He looked broken, a man too weak to summon anger. A loser unworthy of his wife's desire.

The countess rolled over and gave away a muffled morning sound. Her bed sheet slid down, and exposed her breasts as she stretched out her arms and yawned. The count saw how her body attracted Joseph Wilder's eyes and pressed the sword harder against his skin.

"Outside, now," he said.

Joseph Wilder put on his trousers and walked down the marble stairs out into the morning haze. The count's garden so large his castle was a small cottage in comparison. He had known it was a terrible idea to spend the night at the estate, but the countess had her tricks to persuade him. And now he was on his way to another duel, unless the count played dirty and killed him in cold blood.

"Go left!" The count walked a few steps behind him and gave harsh orders, but Joseph Wilder sensed the fear hiding in every word.

They crossed lawns the size of farming fields and entered a vast apple orchard where two men waited. He recognized one as the count's heir, his mistress's brat of a stepson who thought he was a fighter just because his father had given him a shining sword for his birthday. The other man looked Joseph Wilder's age. Probably one of the count's friends.

They handed him an old pistol. He squinted through the barrel to check that there was a bullet inside. His opponent was a man of honor, a man who found it noble to arm his enemies.

"No!" The countess came running towards them from the castle, barefoot and dressed in a thin dressing gown. Her voice was so full of despair that even the first officer felt a momentary shock of sympathy. The son went off to stop his stepmother. He put his arms around his stepmother and whispered something in her ear, then pulled her away from the scene.

Joseph Wilder took a deep breath of chill morning air and showed his white teeth in a devilish smile. The count looked like he was dueling with the grim reaper.

"Take your positions," shouted the friend.

The duelers walked up to each other and placed themselves back to back with their pistols pointing at the sky.

"Whatever happens," Joseph Wilder said in a hushed voice that only his opponent could hear, "you should know that your wife never enjoyed herself as much as last night. If you kill me, she'll never experience such pleasure again."

"You're a scum, Wilder," said the count. The first officer smiled to himself.

"Take a dozen steps, then turn around and wait for my countdown to finish," said the friend and started counting.

Joseph Wilder took long strides. The farther away they came from each other, the better his odds. He was one of the finest marksmen in the country, while he doubted that the count had even taken part in a duel.

They stopped, turned around and took aim.

"Twelve, eleven, ten." The friend's countdown was coming to an end. "Four, three, two."

He squeezed the trigger. The count collapsed without making a sound, his eyes empty and a red hole in his chest.

*