Chapter 13: Ch. 013 – (Then) A Long Way Back

The three of them walked the long way out of the tunnel in near silence. By the time they’d rounded up the mules and were on their way back into the tunnel, the train was back under full steam again, and trundling away. The way back to the scene of the massacre was even longer though, and it got longer every time they had to stop to collect the bodies of the dead and pile them onto the complaining animals. Jonathan didn’t try to help lift them. He couldn’t. Instead he spent most of that time trying very hard not to put names to faces as he walked beside the macabre load, and some of the time vomiting against the tunnel walls at the sight of it all. Once they got further into the dark and he could no longer make out the details, his nausea passed, but Jonathan knew he would never be able to forget the things he saw here today. Eventually the walk back in silence became too much for him to bear though and he blurted out, “You told me to stop this whole mess but you set up this ambush anyway”

“Aye - I knew ye wouldn’t suc—” Boriv answered

“Then you tell me to kill my brother,” Jonathan interrupted, his anger rising enough that he didn’t care. “But he’s still breathing, and you don’t seem to care.” 

“It was enough to see ye pull—” Boriv said, more annoyed than he had before. 

“Just what the hell is going on. I—” ,Jonathan was exasperated. Before he could finish his point though Boriv struck the back of his legs with the butt of his rifle hard enough to make him collapse painfully to his knees on the rocky tunnel floor. 

“Ye have had a rough day lad. I’ll give you that. The first one was free, but if you keep this attitude up, I’ll beat you bloody,” Boriv lectured. As he spoke he unbuttoned Jonathan’s shirt, which the boy found weird, but he didn’t dare question his master any further. The rage had passed and now he was back to despair over everything that had happened. “I told ye to try to stop him if you wanted, but I also said it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good.” 

“It didn’t” Jonathan agreed quietly, managing to hold back the tears. 

“I’m surprised ye survived the attempt,” Boriv said, “I saw the look in yer brother's eyes, and that’s not the way you should ever look at kin.” 

“Marcus wouldn’t kill me,” Jonathan said, but even he didn’t believe those words after everything that had happened. 

“Then what do you call this,” Boriv asked, stabbing two of his small stubby fingers hard against his apprentice’s chest. 

“Owww,” Jonathan cried out, twisting away from the pressure, but it was no good. Boriv kept pressing, and only relented when he finally looked down. Even in the dim light from the tunnel's entrance it was easy to see the red welt that would certainly be a bruise by morning. 

“What the…” he asked, unable to remember being struck that hard - not even when he was knocked down. 

“That was a gift from yer lovin’ brother.” Boriv said, turning away from Jonathan and back to the mule. “He struck ye with the pommel instead of the blade when he threw that knife. So always remember that if he’d been good at anything in his whole damn life besides drinkin, womanizin, and lyin to yer father ye’d be one more corpse in this pile now.”

Jonathan stayed there on his knees for half a minute, even after the dwarves started walking off again, trying to put all the pieces into place. Pommel? Blade? Dead man? It took far longer than it should have -  too long really - to put it together. As soon as he did though, he jumped to his feet, shocked by the realization. He’d assumed his brother had missed and the pain he’d felt was from the recoil on Boriv’s brand, but if he’d been struck by the pommel of his brother's dagger right in the center of his chest, then that confirmed that he’d tried to kill him. Marcus had actually tried to kill his own brother. Jonathan covered his mouth at the idea. His brother had really wanted him dead. The idea lingered like the dull pain in his chest, but he ignored both of them as he buttoned his shirt and hurried to rejoin the dwarves. His grief could wait until he was alone in his own bed. He wouldn’t give his older brother the satisfaction of seeing how much he’d hurt him. 

If the walk back to the site of the massacre had been a long one, then the walk back to the Dalmarin was even longer. They’d only managed to collect half the bodies, and Boriv’s men would have to make a second equally gruesome trip to correct the rest after these were dropped off. None of that was even the worst part though. That was the way his brother glared at him the whole way back, taunting him as they went. Jonathan had ignored his brother’s jokes and insults for his whole life, but with the knowledge that he’d actually tried to kill his own brother, he’d lost all the immunity he’d once had to them. Now each word kindled the growing fire of rage and hate in his heart.

“I wish you’d never been born!” he spat, “or that I’d at least found a good way to make it look like an accident when I corrected that mistake.”

You are reading story Letter of The Law at novel35.com

“I’d trade you for any of the real men that died today. Any of them. Even the worst was better than you.”

He went on like that for minute after minute, and Jonathan was only able to avoid answering him because that’s what Boriv had told him to do. He walked in silence alongside the rest of the dwarves while Marcus spewed his insults at sword point. He focused instead on how hard it was going to be to tell father what had happened today and how he’d failed him. With everything that had gone on in the last day Jonthan still wasn’t sure if their father had actually been involved with this plot, or if that had been a lie by Marcus to bring him on board, but it didn’t really matter. Either way you looked at it he’d failed the family today, and House Shaw would never be the same again.  

“You got seven people killed today - you know that don’t you Jon!?” he called out, snapping Jonathan out of his own thoughts enough to look up at him. “And every one of those deaths is on your head.” 

Jonathan sighed and looked back at his feet.  He’d endured fifteen minutes of these insults but at least they were almost at the station. He tried to ignore this one too, but Boriv piped up for once instead. “And yer sure this Faen fellow wasn’t among the dead, right lad? Certain sure?

“No sir,” Jonathan told the dwarf. “Those were just my brother's flunkies and some of their friends.”

“Oh you’ll never find Mr Faen you miserable midget.” Marcus taunted. “He’s much too smart to get caught by a dwarf.”

“Is that so,” Boriv answered skeptically. “Well if he’s smart enough not to get caught, but yer here in irons, then what does that make ye?” Marcus only glowered and said nothing at this, so Boriv continued. “Ye don’t really matter anyway. It’s him we want, and it would go a lot easier on ye if we had hands on him to put to the question instead, but since he’s down the track we’ll have to see what we can learn from ye instead.” 

Boriv had made a big deal about the dandy when he’d told him about the tavern too, Jonathan had realized. At first he’d thought it was just because he was the brains of the operations, but as the questions had gotten more specific he’d finally realized the truth: Boriv thought the elves were behind this. That figured. In the stories they were alway behind the most nefarious plans, but in reality they were pretty much a myth. Everyone agreed that they were real, but Jonathan had never met a single person that claimed to have actually met one that wasn’t drunk or crazy. That didn’t stop the dwarves from constantly worrying that the absent elves were plotting against them though. If anything their absence made the dwarven paranoia that much worse.

“Mr Faen is the least of my problems I think,” Marcus said finally, “You’d still punish me even if you had him wouldn’t you? That's what your laws say right? That you have to strike down traitors and thieves root and branch?”

Boriv shrugged, not deeming the point worth discussing as they approached the station with their grisly cargo, and instead ordered his men to empty out sheds five and six so they’d have a place for their prisoner and the dead. Annoyed that he was being ignored, Marcus continued. “Maybe that’s something you should have told Jon about before all this. Tell him - tell him what Dwarven justice looks like.”

Jonathan looked from Marcus’s cruel smile to Boriv’s stoney expression and back again. He opened his mouth to ask, but Boriv said simply “Today’s not for that. We can talk about the law another day. Ye just go home and tell yer father everything that’s happened so he’s ready when I call on him tonight.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about that too much,” Marcus taunted. “I doubt he’ll be able to accept any apology you have to give him.” Jonathan studied his brother's face, and was unable to determine if that was another twisted joke at Jonathan’s expense, or something worse, but he tried not to dwell on it as he took his leave and left the building. 

Today he didn’t linger or take the long way. He didn’t try to find the village boys or seek out Claire. All those distractions seemed like they belonged to someone else's life now. Instead Jonathan walked home as fast as he could without appearing indecent. Some of the villagers tried to smile or wave to get his attention, and others stared at him as they noticed his ripped pants and dirty shirt. The tension was building though. Something about his brother's self assured smile was twisting him into knots, and so he just kept speeding up, decency be damned. Jonathan ignored everyone that crossed his path as he jogged across the village in record time. In the face of the literal pile of bodies that had to be hauled back to the village today, nothing else mattered. By afternoon everyone would know, and by evening almost every life in Dalmarin would be touched by death.  And it would all be Jonathan’s fault.

By the time Jonathan barged through the double doors of the manor he was out of breath, and he could hear his gasps echoing off the walls of the receiving hall. None of the maids were there, and when he called out his father’s manservant was absent too. It was another bad sign he thought as he quickly ran up the stairs. The house was too quiet - even without Marcus. Something had to be wrong, and Jonathan couldn’t figure out what. It was only when he got to his father’s door and found the town’s doctor leaving that his heart sank and Marcus’s words made sense. His father wouldn’t be able to accept his apology… because his father was already dead. 

You can find story with these keywords: Letter of The Law, Read Letter of The Law, Letter of The Law novel, Letter of The Law book, Letter of The Law story, Letter of The Law full, Letter of The Law Latest Chapter