Four

A short story to pass the time!

Four

The deer limped through the short grass. Blood trickled down it’s back leg staining the land. Blood always leaves a mark.  Garett Thattch leaned against one of the gracious trees with a deep sigh. He pushed his dark hair off of his sweat drenched forehead. Garett’s keen gray eyes studied the small deer that hobbled toward a small ravine. You have to know your prey, he thought. The animal already had one of his arrows protruding from its back leg.

“One, two, three,” Garett whispered as he ran his hand along the rough feathered shafts remaining in his quiver. He took a small step toward the deer, his slashed up leather boots crushed a few twigs but not loud enough to scare his quarry. His upper body followed his outstretched leg. Something grabbed at his dull brown tunic. He paused. Garett closed his eyes and grimaced as he leaned forward. Snap! The briar vine flew back towards the tree it called home making enough noise to wake the next town. The deer’s head shot up! It bolted into the distance.

             Garett closed his eyes his brows riving his forehead. He scratched his unshaven cheek and turned to follow the deer. Instead of the beautiful forest scape he expected he saw the iron head of an arrow aimed at his left eye.

“Whadd’ya think you’re doing here?” demanded a stocky, gruff man.

“I’m hunting.” Garett replied.

“Well this here happens to be Baron Roland’s forest, so why don’t you go hunt somewhere else.” The bowman grated out. His uneducated slurring speech made garret grit his teeth.  Garett moved his hand down towards a small deerskin pouch on his belt.

“Hey!” the bowman shouted as he pulled back harder on the string.

Creak! The wood screeched in agony and Garett froze.

“I’m going to pull a parchment from my bag, may I?” Garett asked. The bowman nodded his hood obscuring his face from Garett’s prying eyes. Garett reached into the pouch and pulled out a small rolled up leaf of parchment with a wax seal on it. He unrolled it slowly keeping his eyes on the man with the bow.

“Here it is permission from the Baron to hunt this forest with his house seal on it.” Garett said as he tossed the note to the ground in front of the man. One, two, thr- Garett counted in his head ready to move if he had to. Halfway through three the man lowered the bow and sheathed the arrow. He pushed his hood back to reveal a clean shaven face with a misshapen nose and glowing blue eyes. He shoved his right hand out and Garett clasped it.

“Darren Kahn, I’d be happy to help you track your deer down.” The man said with a smile.

“Garett Thattch, I’d be happy to have the company friend.” Garett replied, “It’s going to take some time for it to slow down and bed up. Would you like a pipe while we wait?”

“I’ve got mine own pipe, but my blend fell out of my bag a few miles back.” Darren said while pulling a small hand carved pipe from his backpack. Garett sat down and leaned against the mist coated tree. He pulled his own pipe from his pouch as well as a small blend of tobacco. He undid the leather straps holding the bag closed and pinched a piece out to pack it into his pipe. He offered the bag to Darren who took it and did the same.

            The day wore on as the two men sat around a small fire cradling their pipes and hunching their backs against the cold.

“So what brings you out here Darren?” Garett asked. A small string of smoke floated lazily from his lips.

“Ahh well, I’m trying to keep poachers out of these woods and keep watch. Word is there’s some kind of rapist hiding out here running from the law.” Darren said.

“You aren’t wearing the Baron’s colors though?”

“Well I told myself that it’d be best if I didn’t. That way I wouldn’t be a target for poachers and the like,” Darren grunted. “Why are you hunting these woods?”

“I live on a small farm to the north of here and we need meat for the winter, so I told my woman that I’d bring home a deer.” Garett replied. Darren nodded in understanding and let lose a puff of smoke.

“So what’s this that you said about a rapist out here? Should I get home to my woman?” Garett asked through the cloud of sharp scented tobacco.

“Probably should, story goes that he got the Baron’s daughter and had himself a widow on his way out of town,” Darren said. “If you ask me he’s gone by now.”

 Garett pulled his tunic up to cover a few bloody scrapes on his neck, “I haven’t heard that part about the widow.”

“Humph. Heard it from my woman. She was scared to death. Said that one of the young widows was how he hid. He slipped in and had his way with her while the guards tried to chase him out of town.” Darren said

“Damn cunning man I’ll give him that,” Garett muttered shaking his head. “I couldn’t do any of that. I hate men that take advantage of others. If there’s any justice in this world that man will get his throat slashed.”

“Justice isn’t for us common folk. Only the privileged get that Garett. Why do you hate men who use their strength to get their way?”

“When I was a kid my pa used to beat my mam, one day he went too far and killed her. He didn’t pay for that crime for a long time, he took his anger out on me after she was dead. I was glad to see him leave.”

Darren grunted, “My pa did the same, difference is I learned to take the beatings and become stronger. See my mom left when I was little so I grew up with it. I respect the man. He taught me how to survive.”

“We all deal with it different I guess.” Garett said while looking up at the position of the sun.

“It’s probably time to start trailing that deer of yours.”

Garett nodded once and emptied his pipe on the ground. Darren followed suit and the two quickly packed up their belongings. Garett stepped into his longbow and bent it over his knee to restring it. Hiss! The fire cried as Darren pissed it out, and then collected his bow and additional belongings.

            The blood trail was clean and following the deer was a simple task as the two followed the trail through the ravine towards a thick patch of brush. Garett and Darren looked at each other their eyes met and Darren saw the cold hard light of a killer enter Garett’s stare. There was a light thrashing noise coming from the brush so with a few nods and generally recognized hand signals the two split up and walked along the outside of the thicket. Garett stared intensely into the trees and vines looking for the slightest hint of movement. He was almost halfway around the thicket when a whistle rolled in through the trees. The deer had been spotted, it was time to kill. Garett pulled one of his few arrows from his quiver and stepped into the thick brush. He hunched his shoulders to make himself smaller and make as little noise as possible. His bow was held out in front of him so that he could draw and shoot quickly if need be.

            The moist ground allowed him to make little noise with each step and soon he saw the deer laying in a bed of ferns. The deer’s head shot up as he stepped close. He froze as the deer’s large black eyes scanned every inch of its surroundings. The deer’s color blindness betrayed it so that when it looked at Garett it saw just another still, gray tree. It lowered its head back to the ground, but kept its eyes scanning for predators.

            Garett saw Darren on the other side of the deer stepping closer with his bow up and an arrow nocked. The two made eye contact and nodded. Garett raised his bow. The arrow quivered with his nerves. A small drop of water fell from the iron head. The rough goose feather fletching stroked his cheek. He took a deep breath and steadied the bow.

            Time vanished as Garett stared down the wooden shaft of the arrow. The brown target that he had drawn in his mind was the only thing in the world.

“One, two, three.” Garett pulled the bow up and the deer screamed when Darren’s arrow pierced its side. It thrashed in the ferns ferociously. Garett released his arrow with a breath and the shaft sped away. Darren bellowed in agony as it pierced his chest and tossed him back to the ground. Training kicked in and Garett took off running while pulling another arrow back. He fired as he passed the thrashing deer and the arrow pinned its head to the ground in a geyser of gore.

            Garett ripped a vine down and saw his prey creeping away. He ran towards the bleeding man, and kicked him in the side with a loud crack signifying broken ribs. Garett kneeled down next to Darren. Pleading eyes looked up at him and a bubble of blood popped and it streamed from Darren’s mouth. Garett pulled a long thin dagger from a sheath on his back and laid the naked blade on Darren’s throat.

“Remember Kahn assassins know their prey. In the name of the baron I, Garett Thattch, royal assassin, hereby sentence you to death for the rape of Baron Roland’s daughter and the rape of an unnamed widow,” Garett grimaced. “Say hello to Death for me, friend.”

The blade slid easily through the soft skin of the throat and the veins snapped sending blood torrenting through the air.

            Garett wiped the knife clean and sheathed it. He pulled a small silver ring from Darren’s backpack. It had the Baron’s seal engraved on it. He left the broken body in its bed of thorns and returned to the deer. It lay completely still on the ground with three arrows protruding from its wet brown pelt. Garett smiled at the deer.

“This will make a fine meal for the Baron’s celebration feast,” he said and then picked up the deer. He settled it on his shoulders and began to make his way to where his horse was tied waiting for him about fifty yards from the thicket. He strapped the deer onto the back off the horse and then launched himself up into the saddle. Garett whistled a lively tune as he rode east to Baron Roland’s keep. Maybe he would stop by his new woman first to say hello, he thought, she owed him for the nasty scratches. 

Author's Note

Please any comments are welcome. I want to improve my writing.

Reviews

[LastMonth]

Review time!

Writing:
You wrote well. Your usage of many words rather then sticking to a limited vocabulary made this interesting enough. Though some words I'd use differently such as 'Streaming' Streaming from his mouth is how you used it, but I'd say that blood more likely to have gurgled out of his mouth or spill over, considering a stream is something with force behind it. But that's just me nipticking.

Atmosphere:
The atmosphere is very cautious. I felt from the start that the deer was but a metaphor for a predetor and prey, the way you made the two man hunt down the deer together added to that.

Plot:
Wow. You caught me by surprise. I -thought- I knew what you were doing. I was ready to flail my arms and sigh while saying ''Predictble..!'' That Darren is the murderer and rapist. I mean, it was so obvious. But the fact that Garret -knew- and was -sent- to kill him. That was one hell of a twist. Good job my friend.

Thank you for the story.

[Shy_muse]

This was a great story! You had me captivated the entire time. I love the end when the deers death signals and mirrors the death of Darren... one heck of a twist that Garret was an assassin! I really enjoyed this and can not wait to read more of your writing. Keep it up!
I also really like the names you picked! Very simple yet creative and it made them believable.
You also kept a smooth flow to your writing and your diction was great!
OH!! And your dialogue was very convincing and the characters stayed in character! That can be a difficult task to accomplish!

Let me know when you write more stories so I can read them!! < 3