Valin (Book 3 of the White Lily Trilogy)- first draft

Chapter 33- When two become one

     "Isi, Isi! What's going on!" Dakelo shouted to hearing the girl scream.

"Get off me!" she screamed, clearly not directed at him.

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and sprang from the table. How foolish was he, they clearly weren't alone in the house. He should have checked everywhere first, but his grief blinded him. He kept the knife in his hand as he charged into the room. He had a split second to register what was going on. He saw two men, both of them were in the sitting room, the scrawnier one had his arms wrapped around Isi, one twisting her arm back and one against her back, pushing her down onto the floor. The second, turned to face Dakelo as he came thundering around. This one had a long drawn-out face, plenty of lines and pale scars lined the ragged, filthy skin. He certainly hasn't shaved in a long while by his scruffy, black beard, or had a bath from the smell of it. Then again, most of those on the outskirts didn't either. He looked down and saw blood-soaked both of their hands, but it wasn't from Isi, for she bore no visible wounds.

He saw red.

It was them.

Despite the fact he was barely half of their height, he charged at them. He wanted them to pay, he wanted them to suffer for taking his father from him.

"Well, what do we 'av 'ere." The one facing Dakelo sneered. He sidestepped Dakelo and brought a swift kick to the knees from behind, knocking him to the floor before he too was pinned down. Rage clouded Dakelo's actions and judgement, pure hatred and rage. The normal him could have avoided such a rookie mistake. He snarled and tried to thrash his way up

"I'll kill you, I'll kill you!" he screamed.

"Oh look a' this one, a little violent ain't he?" The same one laughed. Dakelo could hear his friend talking, though he couldn't see him from the angle his head was.

"Looks like 'is one might be the son the ol' ma spoke of." He grunted, his voice rather deep and husky. "Oh 'ow he begged us not t' hurt ya."

"You scum! You scum! Why did you do it?" he yelled, the tears streamed down his face again. He tried his best to hold them back, for the tears only made him look weak in front of the men and also affected his vision, but he had too many to hold back.

"Awww crying are we? It's simple, the ol' codger was the only one on this wretched street actually making any coin and we wan'ed in on it."

"But he wouldn' pay up and struggled a bit, accidents happen."

"That wasn't an accident, that was murder!" Dakelo roared. "You're murderers!"

"Oh, and if ye decide to kill us, wha does 'at make it?"

"Justice!" he snapped straight away. "It would be justice."

"Well lemme tell yers a handy hint." The taller man said, leaning forward , enough so that Dakelo could smell his foul breath, and almost pass out on the fumes. "Justice ain't so kind out in 'ese parts."

With that he was given another solid blow to his back, causing him to cry out, and another, and another. Above his cries of rage, and of pain, he could hear Isi's sobbing. She shouldn't see this, and he only imagined the worse what they'd do with her afterwards.

I'm sorry...I'm sorry, father, I'm sorry, Isi. There was nothing he could do, each time he went to get up he was kicked back down, he didn't know how much more he could take before blacking out. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten....he counted each strike. They were doing this for fun, he knew they had weapons but each strike was punishment, each one blew at his heart, tearing the pain into it, each blow telling him he failed. He tried to keep his eyes open but the strikes crept red into his vision, and soon darkness took him.