A Slave To The Evil Count

Lennart ran as his family did not have any horses left. He ran as his new shoes worn out after running miles. His bleeding feet had long changed their color. His breeches had more mud than cloth and his shirt was torn after being scratched by the branch, he did not notice in the dark.

He could not see the path anymore. He did not have the luxury to stand and pay attention to his surroundings. He was running only by his instincts. This was the land he had grown up in from a boy to a man. With her, for her. It would not betray her and so did she!

It must be a misunderstanding. He was sure she would laugh at him when he told her what he had heard in the bar. She would shake her head and scold him for leaving his luggage behind in the bar. She would warn him that if he would lose anything she would not help him. But she always helped in the end.

Tears burnt his eyes again. But he did not give up. He would run to get her scolding. He would run… for her? There was no way that she would be getting married with someone else. When he had left the town to get a better future, she had promised him that she would wait for him. And now that he had earned what he was looking for, she could not leave him. She would not.

He assured himself again and again like a madman whispering a chant to ward off evil. But… the evil never leaves.

The darkness started to spread in every inch of his skin, his soul as he ran. Ran enough for a healthy man to end up fainting and a weak man to die. He ran enough to not feel the sole, to not feel his skin or the pain that branches had left on his skin.

The metallic smell of blood did not enter his nostrils and his rugged breathing did not affect him. But.. Now that he was just a few lanes away from her manor, he could hear the sound of music. He could feel the laughter permeating in the air and he could sense the presence of men and women. So many of them were collected without a reason. 

He stumbled and the pain speared up his side. All at once he grew aware of his breath that was cutting his own throat like razors, the burning of his chest and the ache of his waist and shoulders that were wounded. The throb on his rips where the men had struck him when he punched one of them after hearing the news. The news of her marriage to other men.

He fell on the ground when he noticed a long parade and a carriage amidst the large crowd. A group of knights surrounding it. The carriage was closed but he recognized it. The earl of Glavatovic, their rivals from two centuries ago. They told her she had married their eldest son. It was the third marriage of that bastard.

He already had two sons with his previous wife. The eldest one is just four years younger to her.

His hands clenched into a tight fist. No, it could not be her. The men must have been provoking him to steal his gold. He shook his head, but the darkness within him knew the truth. So when he noticed the men wearing fine clothes following the carriage, he held one of them and casted aside. He did not hesitate to take his place in the parade.

God never lent his strength when doing good, but the devil had mercy. He never leaves his followers when doing a sin. Perhaps that was the reason he did not feel the pain when he held a stone tightly in his hands. And when the carriage stopped due to the crowd, he jumped on the carriage and threw the stone to the glass window.

It shattered at once and he heard a gasp. Perhaps, he had just felt it from her expressions. The way her eyes widened. The way the smile faded on her lips and her lips parted to whisper something but the words did not register in his mind. The way her pupils blooded and then narrowed and how she sucked in a deep breath. It was like a dagger piercing him again and again. 

He did not need a knight to separate him with the carriage. Her white dress was enough to do so. So when he jumped back. He did not care when two men held him and forced him on his knees.

She had gone and so did the meaning of his life. He closed his eyes as the noises around him increased. He was dragged somewhere. Perhaps to get killed but then the strike he was waiting for did not come.

What welcomed him was a strong laughter that felt more painful than the dagger would have.

"You are more than I could have ever imagined, Lenhart. Are you sure you are going to die for a woman who had betrayed you or you are going to live for yourself now?" he paused, as the words felt blurry. Strange. She had betrayed him. The words had slowly started to sink in.

Elara… she had betrayed him!?

"For wealth and power. But she is a fool since you can have more than one could ever have." the strange man who had extended his hands must be the incarnate devil. But he was ready to sell his soul this time.