Chapter One, Prolouge --The Crime ( First Draft)

The Crime



Like a rag doll the boy king of 14 summers, laid tattered and torn. His left arm flung across his face in a last desperate act of protection. Blood still ran from wounds, too many to count. Death did not come quickly to the boy. A hobnailed boot lashed out, flinging the adolescent's body closer to the pyre for burning.A voice filled with cruelty and contempt for all things living, shouts out the command. " NOT Him, yah fool, he needs to be found!.. Gods damn thee!" With that, the punishment was swift. Steel flashed as it seemed out of no where, the blade of the battle ax caught the last rays of the sun. Flashing like a blur of light it separates the man's head from his shoulders.With that example, all voices stopped. They’re words catching in their throats. They all be harden men, but terror now creeped and slithered catching and holding on to each raider and adding to the stench of fear mixed with their sweat. Silently now they went about the remainder of the grizzly task.Now all knew that the blood rage was still risen in Otto Talbert the lesser, who all called the youngest son of the Count Talbert "the Ghoul". For none in all the land took more delight in killing then he. As cunning as his brother Regis and father, Otto reveilles in murder and torture. Therefore, none was a better choice, then the Talberts to plot and carry out the murder of the boy king. Like an ox in a rage, Otto rips the horned Helm from his head. His eyes fill with hate and the joy of bringing suffering to others, as he surveys the killing ground. Big and cruel he maybe, but cunning and quick as well; he knew something was ah mis.Turning to the rest, his lips form a snarl and hissed out "Where be the other?... Where..be.. The brother?"Ah mad dash was made for the piled bodies. The hacked remains of Knights, Pages, Men at Arms and as well as commoners a like, where flung a side. Some of the bodies with severed limbs and others headless, where tossed about in a mad search. Then a high shrill voice, almost that of a girl’s sings out, freezing the raiders in a gruesome tab-low."Here Milord! Here! I have the pup.. Or what’s be left of him!" Crackling like a demon from hell, the "Crone" holds up the body of a 12-year-old boy by the arm. Half the lad's face was gone, cleaved from crown to jaw. Death came quickly for the boy, dead before he hit the ground.On four quick long strides the "Ghoul" crossed the killing field. Snatching the boys limp body by the head, he peers into what's left of a face. Talbert's eye's narrow, studying the ghastly sight. He half whispers to himself.... "Maybe... Maybe.." As his master's eyes examen every inch, the "Crone" pets the bloody remains of the boy. Smiling he crackles again. "Tis him Sir, tis him, look how pretty he be and so finely dressed; so plump, so soft and tender almost good enough to eat Milord!" The Crone crackles again in glee. Talbert keeps silent, then slowly nods his head. " Aye, I think thee be right Crone, toss him back with the rest". The Crone puts his index finger to his forehead. " Aye Milord, do we burn then now Milord?"
The Ghoul laugh's "Hell no, let them rot! Leave them for the Crows, the bloodier the mess be found, the better it be!" Turning he strides off bellowing "Make ready. We ride!" Turning his back and blocking Talbert's view, the Crone hacks off the boy’s arm just below the elbow and stuffs it into his haversack.