The Duke sank deeper into madness when he learned that the cabin in which Adar was supposedly living was empty and there was no sign of the former soldier, his brother-in-law. He directed his madness towards the only one he could, Durbar. He had the man raised up by his arms in preparation for another whipping, just as the wounds on his back were beginning to heal. Durbar knew that they had not found what they were looking for. Of course, they were looking for a dead man, but Orthan would not believe it.
“You lied to me!” He shouted at Durbar only inches from the young man’s face, and his spittle spattered the prisoner. “You said he was there in the forest. But he was not there. Where is he? Where is Adar, your father?”
“I told you,” Durbar answered coldly, anger rising in his soul, “He is dead. I buried him under a tree in the forest years ago.”
“LIAR!” yelled Orthan. “I will kill you for your deception.” Orthan stepped back away from Durbar and began whipping him with a leather whip. Again and again he struck the young man, each time shouting, “Where is he?” Durbar did not answer. He only clenched his teeth and tried to resist screaming in agony. After about a dozen lashes, Orthan paused. He himself was covered in sweat from his intense rage, and the exertion of beating the man. He grabbed Durbar’s hair and yanked it back, raising his face up.
“Tell me where I can find him?” he asked in a low tone as if he was restraining a flood of anger that wanted to drown him. Durbar only groaned in stinging pain. The floodgates opened up and Orthan resumed beating Durbar savagely. He thrashed him another and another time still shouting, “Where is he?” at the top of his lungs. Durbar was struck so many times that he could no longer react to each blow. He just slumped forward, the chains alone holding him upright. He closed his eyes tightly and waited for the lashes to end.
The Duke tired eventually and dropped the whip. His face was covered in the other man’s blood. There was a pool of it on the ground between himself and his victim. The men who were with him, winced at the horrifying sight. They had wanted to stop the Duke long before his own weariness stopped him, but he terrified them. He was a man possessed. Orthan gasped for breath as he observed the result of his madness. He stood where he was for several moments, and finally turned and left. A pair of men followed the Duke and another pair summoned a servant to tend to the man.
4 thoughts on “From Sureshot the Assassin”
Waah. This is so violent yet full of emotion. I think that I already missed some parts in this story, I have been on a break. This is really outstanding. 🙂
Thank you so much! It’s just an excerpt from the book. I did get a little darker by the time I wrote this and honestly my writing can be a bit dark but it’s authentic. It was interesting to reflect on because when I wrote the first book I was around 21 and full of optimism and by the time I wrote the second around 26 years old I was a bit darker. Nowadays I feel I balance things well but I don’t shy away from expressing pain in my writing even while I would say I’m still an optimist. Thank you for following!
Wow. It’s so good, your writing is so good. I hope you could do more of that. I am very impressed with how you carry the story, I like the dark stuff, I can relate to dismal stories so, it’s totally cool.
I really appreciate your words! I’m committed to improving my writing and telling stories as authentic as possible. Our world is both light and dark, pleasure and pain, life and death. I strive to embrace both sides. ❤️