Jerek and his fellow bandits searched throughout the long night for their brother, Radim, who had been taken from them the previous night. At last, they found him tied to an oak, motionless.
"Untie him!" Jerek cried as he rushed toward the lifeless body. The body was swollen and disfigured, a sign everyone recognized as a rare death that the grotos leave behind whenever they cross paths with their targets.
The bandits circled around the tree and let loose the rope that was binding their friend's body. As they set him free, Radim's body leaned toward the ground, but they supported it. However, the body was too heavy for their size and they had no choice but to let go.
Radim's body hit the ground and it burst with a loud "puff." Greenish liquid began to seep out from the hole on his large stomach, filling the atmosphere with a disgusting stench.
The bandits held their noses, but Jerek didn't care. He grabbed his brother's lifeless form and wept.
"I am going to find out what you saw and heard that caused you to end up like this," he swore. "I shall find the boy and the girl we met yesterday, and when I do, they will experience a fate worse than death. They will regret ever crossing paths with us!"
He stood up from the ground and wiped his tears, his eyes as hard as a diamond.
"What do we do now?" Fane, one of the bandits inquired.
"First, we will help him become one with the earth," Jerek replied. "After that, we shall return to Hovrem to rally all of our men. Then the search will begin."
*****
Toby Drym looked at his sleeping wife, Jane. Despite her large bump, she had cried and cried the previous day, pleading with Agithara to spare her husband.
Agithara had told her a few weeks ago that she was thirty-five days away from her delivery date, a prediction they and everyone else knew would never fail.
Even as Jane was sleeping soundly on the bed, her grip on her husband's hand was almost as firm as a vice. She would do anything to protect her husband, even Toby knew that as much.
Tears tickled down his young face as he thought of the life she would live if he left her a widow in her late 20s. He deserved any punishment for his incompetence in protecting Idonado, but did Jane deserve to live in sadness and pain? Did his unborn child deserve to live as a fatherless child?
A gentle knock on the door pulled him out of his pool of thoughts. He looked over to see his wife already awake, looking at him in nervousness and concern.
"They are here to take you away from me, aren't they?" she said, her voice shaking. "I will not let them. Let's run away from here, away from the Wedge. I will go anywhere with you, as long as you're by my side."
"Then we would be hunted," Toby said. "I am sorry I will not be able to fulfill my promise to always be by your side. I know you will raise our little cub to a brave warrior, one that would surpass me—"
"Do not talk like that!" Jane cut in. "You and I will raise it together. I will talk to Agithara again. You know she's close to my grandmother, she will definitely reconsider your punishment. You spent half of your life protecting the Ghansiki, I will make sure she puts that into consideration."
"We both know Agithara never goes back on her words," Toby said. "I cannot escape my fate, and I will not drag you into my retribution. Tradition is tradition, it cannot be altered."
"It can be bent!" Jane cried. "I do not want to lose you, I do not want to…"
Toby pulled her into a tight embrace, his lips brushing against her forehead. He knew she'd fight to the end to protect him. She'd rather get herself killed than watch him die.
Growing up as Idonado's Verndari, Toby had mastered various skills, including the art of rendering someone unconscious with a precise strike.
With a swift, gentle motion, he used the edge of his hand to strike the base of Jane's neck, just above the shoulder blade, applying pressure to the vulnerable spot. Jane's eyes fluttered closed, and she slumped into his arms, unconscious.
"I am sorry, my sunshine," Toby sobbed as he laid her back on the bed. With one last kiss on her lips, he turned back and left the room. When he opened the door, he found Bigbody, Fillian, and Jako waiting outside. Behind them were a few other men that had served Idonado when he was still alive.
"Your wife?" Fillian asked.
"Asleep. She will not cause any trouble, I made sure of it," Toby replied. "I am ready to accept my punishment. I plead with you to take care of my wife and unborn child. If it is a boy, make him a better warrior than I am."
"We do not need you to tell us our new additional duty," Jako said. "Your bravery will never be forgotten, man." He patted him on the shoulder.
Bigbody didn't say anything, other than his occasional grunting. He folded his large arms, a distant look on his face as he followed a few paces away as Fillian and Jako led Toby to the village's square.
It was very early in the morning, and the day was just beginning to clear. The village's square was already occupied by the villagers. Everyone, excluding the children, surrounded a wide stone slab.
On the stone slab stood a red-haired lady, wearing a white silky dress and holding a large bowl in both hands. Her emotionless eyes locked on Toby's approaching figure. Below the slab stood Agithara and two figures in white robes, their heads hidden inside their cowls.
A cluster of six old men, known as the Six Wings of the Wedge, dominated one area behind Agithara and her apprentices. Each of them was an elder from the six territories of the Wedge.
Toby climbed the two stairs leading to the stone slab, and when he got there he knelt down in front of the redhead.
"Your service in the Wedge has reached its end, Toby Drym," the redhead said. "You have failed your duty as the Verndari. You have failed to protect Idonado. Accept your punishment and return to the bosom of Ava."
"I accept!" Toby announced.
The redhead handed over the bowl in her hand to him. Toby accepted it and glanced at his friends. They looked sad, as he had expected.
He looked at the colourless liquid in the bowl. The Deagrador clan was known for their special skill in producing odourless and colourless poison. No one survives a sip. A painless, yet the quickest death to transport any man to his deity.
Toby exhaled a deep sigh and raised the bowl to his mouth.
"STOP!"
A commanding voice that startled everyone pierced the solemn atmosphere. Everyone turned to see Raymond approaching in a black furry cloak. The crowd parted to create a way for him as he made for the slab.
"You are not supposed to be here," Agithara said, hustling toward him. "You should be under your roof at this time, Raymond."
"And let him die?" Raymond said through gritted teeth. "No one else has to die because of me!"
"No one is dying because of you. This is tradition!" Agithara countered.
"Killing an innocent man? That is nonsense!"
"No, that is culture. And he's not innocent!"
"You and I both know he is. You knew the Ghansiki was going to die no matter what. It was not Toby's fault. You said it yourself, that it all had been planned by your goddess."
Agithara was quiet, and when Raymond saw that her silence was going to last a few more seconds, he continued aloud, directly to her.
"You said I am the child of the prophecy. The new leader of the Wedge, right?"
Agithara looked surprised, but she managed to stammer out a reply. "Y-yes… but—"
"And the Ghansiki's orders transcend the tradition, yes?"
The elders and Agithara's eyes widened in shock. The priestess glanced at Phoebe, however, the lady averted. But Agithara knew it, she could read her apprentices like an open book. Phoebe had disclosed to Raymond the ways of the Wedge she wasn't yet supposed to.
"This is my first order as the new Lord of the Wedge," Raymond announced. "I set Toby Drym free. He shall live to raise his unborn child!"