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Rated: 13+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #1013676
A tragedy leaves a small boy with an unlikely father-figure
"PrologueOpen in new Window. [E]


         Benedar wrapped his cloak more tightly around himself against the cold of the night and quickened his pace. Even though it was dark and he traveled without a torch so as not to be seen, there was no mistaking his familiar surroundings. It had been all too long since he had enjoyed the warm atmosphere of Darritt's and Kala's home. He couldn't wait to taste some of Kala's home cooking and bounce little Joric on his knee. The time he spent with the Daysson family was like coming home to the family he never had.
         It was all he could do to keep from throwing caution to the wind and break into a dead run as he neared the last rise that would bring the Daysson home into view. When he topped the rise, however, his self-preservation instincts took over and he found himself crouched in the brush that speckled the crest of the hill. Something was not right. He had sent word that he would be passing through, and asked that they leave a lamp burning in the southernmost window to indicate all was well. No lamp burned in the window though, nor was there any light in all the house. Something was definitely wrong.
         Benedar could have been a phantom for all the noise he made as he traveled the remainder of the distance to the house. He kept to the shrubbery and was careful not to expose any of his weaponry lest it reflect the moonlight and reveal his position. As he neared the back of the house, he could see that the back door was open and it was pitch black inside. He flattened himself against the ground, and studied every opening in the house facing his position, and waited for any indication that someone might be watching from inside. Once he had satisfied himself that there were no lookouts, he crept to the rear wall of the house and made his way towards the door. When he reached it he discovered that the door was not merely ajar; it had been smashed in forcefully.
         Drawing his sword silently from its scabbard, Benedar listened again for any signs that could indicate whether or not anyone was inside. Hearing none he slipped quickly inside and was enveloped by the darkness. He didn't dare breathe as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dark. The moonlight streaming through the doorway provided partial illumination. What Benedar could make out in the dimly-lit interior made him fear the worst.
         The table where he had eaten so many warm meals and shared the company of his friends lay on its side and in pieces. Remnants of crockery that had once lined the shelves of the room now crunched underfoot. He scanned the darkened room taking in the destruction of his friends' home until he thought he saw something that made his heart leap into his throat. In the corner of the room, where moonlight met shadow, Benedar could see a boot. As he drew nearer, he found the still form of his dear friend, Darritt. He had been beaten and stabbed many times. His skin was cool from the night air, but not yet cold, so Benedar knew that his friend had been slain only a few hours earlier.
         Benedar left his fallen friend and began to search the rest of the house, hoping against all hope that Kala and Joric had escaped. The tears he had been fighting to hold back spilled openly down his face as he found Kala's body in the bedroom. Her death had not been as quick or as painless as her husband's. He tried to block the gruesome scene from his mind as he continued to search for Joric, though he had no hopes of finding him alive. When his body was nowhere to be found, Benedar began to hope that the boy had somehow survived this massacre. There were only two places he had not yet inspected. The barn was an unlikely hiding place. This was obviously the work of marauders, and they would have taken anything of value and destroyed everything they deemed worthless. The secret cellar, in which Benedar had hidden himself so many times, was his only hope.
         The creaking of the hinges caused every hair on Benedar's neck to stand on end as he opened the trap door hidden in the floorboards. If anyone else were hiding down there, they would know he was coming. Brandishing his sword before him, Benedar advanced down the steps cautiously. He thought he heard a slight scuffling noise, but it stopped so quickly that he wasn't quite sure he hadn't just imagined it. No moonlight penetrated the cellar and the darkness was too thick for Benedar's eyes to penetrate, so he decided to risk a small flame as it was unlikely to be seen from outside.
         The moment the small torch was lit, Benedar was attacked. The battlecry was one that melted his heart as it rang out. "Unca' Ben'dar!" was his assailant's shout just seconds before Joric's small form lept into his arms and wept uncontrollably. Benedar wrapped the boy's small body tightly in his arms as Joric sobbed. Tears flowed freely down Benedar's own face as joy and gratitude swept through his heart in finding Joric alive. Closing the cellar door behind him, he lit the room's only lantern. Speaking soothing words, Benedar managed to extricate himself enough from the child's grip to check him over for any wounds or mistreatment. Finding none, he proceeded to question Joric in order to gain an idea as to what had happened and to discover how he had survived the carnage that had taken place upstairs.
         "Joric, how did you end up down here?" he asked.
         "Mommy put me here...say not make noise an' not come out."
         "Why did your mother put you down here? What happened?"
         "Don' know. Could here loud crash and daddy yelling. I t'ink the bad men come back."
         "What bad men? Who are they?"
         "Don' know. Daddy say not talk to strangers. If I see people I don' know, daddy say come inside an' tell him and mommy. He say bad men might come and try hurt me."
         "How long were you down here, Joric?"
         "Long time, Unca' Ben'dar. I scared, but I not make no noise like mommy say. I hear mommy scream and then not hear nothin' but someone walkin' in the house, but I not come out. Walkin' noise stop and not hear nothin' for long time. I fall 'sleep 'til I hear door in floor open. I's really scared until you make light an' I see you. Where's my mommy and daddy Unca' Ben'dar? Can I come out now?"
         Benedar's heart was breaking as he knew that he had to tell Joric the truth about his parents. "It just isn't fair!" he cursed inwardly. No child should have to grow up without his parents. Joric was born just five summers ago and now he was orphaned. Benedar knew then what had to be done and said, "Joric, you can't see your mommy and daddy no more. Bad men hurt them and now they are dead."
         Joric couldn't have looked more stunned than if Benedar had slapped him in the face. "The bad men kil't my mommy and daddy?" Joric whispered.
         "Yes, Joric. I am sorry, but they are in a better place now where nobody can hurt them again."
         "Can I go there, too?" Joric asked innocently. "I want to be with my mommy and daddy."
         "I know you do, Joric. I know you do. I wish I could be with them too, but we can't be with them yet. Now, I need you to think really hard for me. Do you know if your mommy and daddy have any other family; any brothers or sisters?"
         "I don' know," Joric replied.
         "Does your mommy and daddy have any close friends that visit very often?"
         "No, jus' you, Unca' Ben'dar."
         Benedar traveled this way quite often and stopped in every chance he had. He knew from his travels in the area round about that there were very few homes still occupied in the area as the bands of thieves and marauders had increased in the region. Most had moved to the cities where they would not be so vulnerable. Those who had stayed lived a great distance away, and, according to Darritt and Kala, they were either extremely distrustful or just plain unfriendly. Joric didn't know of any family that could take care of him, and Benedar did not dare leave him with any of the neighbors in the area. A thieves' clan was no place for a small boy such as Joric, but Benedar did not see any other options. He knew of no one that could be trusted with the sacred responsibility of raising Darritt and Kala's child. They were his closest friends, and he felt that it was his responsibility to see that Joric was raised with as much love as his parents would have given him if they had lived. "Joric," he asked, "would you like to come live with me?"
         "In the city?" Joric asked incredulously.
         "Yes," Benedar laughed, "in the city. I want to take care of you now that your parents are gone. You are like family to me; the son I never had. I know that I could never take the place of your mother or your father, but, if you would like to, I would like to have you come live with me in my home. Would you like that, Joric?"
         Joric lept into his arms saying, "Yes, yes, yes, I would like that, Unca' Ben'dar."
         Benedar's heart felt like it would burst with joy. Although he would much rather have Darritt and Kala here as he didn't have the faintest idea as to how to be a proper parent, he was overjoyed that he would be able to care for the Dayssons' precious child in return for the many times that the Dayssons had taken such good care of him on his visits and even gone so far as to contribute to his cause of helping others.
         Benedar took the boy in his arms and extinguished the lamp as they headed up the stairway. They needed to be as far away from this place before daybreak or risk forfeiting their lives. He made Joric promise to close his eyes until he got him outside against Joric's protests of wanting to see his parents again. Benedar couldn't bear to have him see his parents bodies after their brutal deaths. He would much rather have Joric grow up with a pure recollection of his parents and the lives they lead.
         As soon as they reached the door and Benedar made sure that their wasn't anyone lurking around outside, he deposited Joric in some shrubbery with the stern instructions that he was to not make any noise and a promise that he would return shortly. He ducked back inside and dragged Darritt's body to the bedroom where he lay it next to Kala's. He raced into the cellar and returned with a container of lamp oil that had been stored down there and doused the bedroom with its contents. Sadness crept into his heart as he looked one last time upon their lifeless forms. He then made a silent vow to take care of Joric in every way possible, even if it meant the sacrifice of his own life to preserve that of their son.
         He drew his flint from his pocket and prepared to set fire to the bedsheets. He would much rather bury them, but it was far too risky to stay here any longer. What he was about to do was risky in itself if anyone should see the flame too soon and spot Benedar and Joric leaving, but he would not allow their bodies to be desecrated any more by thieves, marauders, or wild beasts.
         Just as he was about to strike a flame something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye. On the top of the bedpost was a manmade mark. It appeared to be a symbol of some sort and in the crude manner that it had been made, Benedar guessed that it had been carved by one of the men who had done this. It might even be some sort of identifying symbol for their band. Benedar used his sword to hack the top of the bedpost off and then deposited it in his pack. Benedar faced Darritt and Kala for the last time, swearing in his wrath that their deaths would not go unavenged. The men who had done this and all those close to them would pay for this act of savagery with their very lives.
         The sheets ignited quickly and Benedar raced from the Daysson home with Joric in his arms. It wasn't until the exertion left him nearly breathless that Benedar slackened his pace and let Joric travel under his own power. When they topped the last rise from which they could see Joric's former home, Benedar allowed a short rest under the cover of a small grove of trees on the ridge. They had traveled nearly a league and it would soon be daylight. Just over the next rise was a homestead where the least friendly of Joric's neighbors lived. Benedar felt that it was time that this sour man repay Joric for the unkindnesses he had visited on Joric's father by "loaning" him a horse from his stables.
         Looking back, they could see the Daysson home burning brightly in the distance. "Say goodbye to your home and your parents Joric," Benedar said quietly. "I don't think you will ever see it again."
         "G'bye mommy...g'bye daddy...I love you," Joric whispered. Silent tears rolled down Joric's cheeks for a time before he spoke again, but with seemingly increased maturity, "Let's go, Unca' Ben'dar. We can't be here when the sun comes up 'cause the bad men might see us." He turned on his heel and continued walking in the direction they had been traveling.
         "Goodbye my friends. Rest peacefully knowing your deaths will soon be avenged and that your son will be well cared for. Until we meet again..." Benedar spoke quietly and then followed after his new ward.


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