Avarice Desperation Valley

Secrets

Bennett did not know what to make of the news that the body of Carlos was nowhere to be found when his hesitant men informed him of this later that evening. He had to be dead Bennett convinced himself. No one could survive a snake bite, he had probably crawled off some distance to die that was it. Though he did not reveal to the others the incident with the snake. Not wanting to diminish his prowess in their eyes. Bennett’s fears were not allayed when his men took him to the area just on dark. They lit torches searching thoroughly, still they found no sign. Impossible! Bennett reiterated to himself, just not possible! His frustration growing by the minute. There were no tracks, nothing to be found, and the wind was on the rise, soon there would be no telltale signs in the shifting sands remaining to find at all.

Finally somewhere near midnight the wind now driving the sand stinging into their faces, they abandoned the search. Bennett by this stage close to dangerous fury as he sauntered toward his hut. Even in death Carlos had made a mockery of him, he would have liked that gold trinket at least, a reminder, a trophy, but it seemed he was denied even that. He contented himself thinking in a few days the telltale stink would alert him to where his quarry had crawled off to die.

The wind was lashing fiercely, the night full of hellish sounds, as metal screamed against metal, and the branches of trees scraped and fractured. It was to this demonic music Bennett made his way to the shelter of his meager home. Just missing Frances by inches with his steel shod boots as he entered in the dark. With a black fury seizing him, he undressed and all but threw himself down on his bed. Drawing the tortured Nathan to him, using the defenseless boy as a channel to direct his vitriolic anger.

Sven lay in his bed, comfortable yet not quite asleep on this unsettling night. His arm draped possessively around Raissa, her head pillowed on his barrel chest, his fingers absently toying with her thick golden hair. She was already deep in sleep he noted, her chores tired her more swiftly now, and it seemed at last she had resigned herself to his dominion.

A subtle change had also been wrought on the hard man, despite his earlier indifference to Raissa's condition he found himself caught up also in the wonder of the child she held within. It will be mine he assured himself, and it will be a son. A warm feeling of satisfaction descended upon Sven with this notion. I will teach him well, Aran will have a nephew, and he shall grow to be a warrior equal to none. Sven enjoyed this thought, finally there was the promise of something worthwhile in all this damnable hell. Noting that as of tomorrow he would lessen Raissa's responsibilities, for he did not want to endanger his new son. Finding contentment in all this he moved closer to the woman, secure in his circle of warmth, untroubled by the moaning wind and driving sand outside. He would he wondered dreamily, leave his other troubles for tomorrow.


The following day was taken up in preparations to move out, there was much to organize and delegate. Bennett finding that he had little time to dwell on dead men. Still the leader’s humor was decidedly short this day, despite Nathan's bruises. His men all sensing this, were ever careful around him.

Frances had now been a 'guest' here for a month and was horrified by all she had witnessed. Although she was only permitted to stay within, or near Bennett's cabin, she had seen more than enough suffering, and cruelty to last a lifetime. Where was Aran? She prayed silently. Had he really been able to get word of her whereabouts to her father? She dearly hoped so, the idea of him not succeeding did not bear thinking about.

Frances’ ever kind heart went out to the boy with who she shared her days. Poor Nathan, so young, he did not deserve the burden placed upon him. Frances just cradled the sobbing boy in her arms, as she did on many occasions. Doing her best to soothe his often hysterical state, trying to take away his hurt. The kindly girl looked down upon him now, he was indeed a pitiful sight. The boy’s tears wet against her breast, his anguished sobs wracking his slight body, the dark bruising on his skin attesting to his harrowing night at Bennett’s hands.

She tried to soothe him as best she could, stroking her hand through his soft blond hair, comforting him as a mother would a fearful child. She was only a couple of years older than he, yet the age gap seemed much larger. Perhaps if she did escape she could take him back with her, secure in the knowledge her parent's would adopt him as their own. Then poor Nathan could mend his fractured life. Yes, that would be good she dreamt, as she pulled him closer to her, uttering softly spoken words of comfort in her honey sweet voice.

Bennett felt irritated, as the afternoon drew to a close, his vile temper even shorter than was usual. He had already taken more than one vicious shot at any of his men who failed however minor to please him. Having enough of the tedious preparations for the raiding party he left the rest of the packing to Sven, deciding at once to seek the solitude of his cabin.

As he stormed through the doorway he was aghast at the sight that greeted his eyes. None other than Frances and Nathan, his face pressed against her milky breasts. Blind fury rising to the fore, Bennett covered the distance in two enormous strides. Bearing down on the pair, his right fist raised, seeking Nathan's face. Both Frances and Nathan had little time, certainly not enough to explain their innocent intentions to the furious giant.

Nathan dropped to the floor, fear lending him amazing speed. Whilst Frances unused to such situations, though realizing Bennett's menacing intent, reflexively, against her better judgment attempted to shield the boy. Fully expecting Bennett to pull the punch, relying on the falsehood of her father's teachings, that a man would not dare strike a defenseless woman.

The powerful blow struck home with a sickening thud, failing to reach Nathan its intended target. Striking Frances instead, dropping her cold. Nathan in his panic cowered on the floor at Bennett's feet, he felt the rush of air overhead as he was missed by inches. Pleading, his words unintelligible through his hysteria and tears, grabbing at the big mans boots, imploring him for mercy. Bennett hit Nathan hard about the head, the blows finally reducing his frantic pleas to quiet sobs.

For some time he just stood above the lad motionless, sadistically drawing out the terror, the only movement visible the twitching of a nerve in his cheek, a lingering product of an old knife wound received in a battle of long ago. Nathan saw none of this however, he feared to move, let alone look up at his savage, uncompromising master. Positive his death was but moments away at the hands of the unreasoning beast. "I didn't..."
"SHUT UP!" Bennett roared, so loudly his voice seemed to ricochet around the small steel room, surely heard by all within the camp. Nathan dared open his mouth no more, instead crouching abjectly at Bennett's feet, shivering in pure fear.

Bennett did not need Nathan's sorry interpretation of these events, his eyes had told him all he needed to know. He was thoroughly sick and tired of protecting this girls virtue, and he inwardly groaned with the knowledge that she would have to accompany him on this trip.

His eyes rested on her for some seconds as she lay deathly pale on the floor, unmoving. Slowly Bennett’s reason returned and as his blind fury subsided, registering that Frances’s head was twisted at an impossible angle. He knew long before he bent down to check if she still breathed, that she was certainly, irredeemably dead. The force of the blow had snapped her neck, breaking it instantly. What to do now? Bennett fretted, shocked at this unexpected outcome his raw fury had wrought. Ever the calculating manipulator he was at once springing into damage control, realizing how this seemingly unfortunate turn of events might be best harnessed to his advantage. Mmmmm, he mused perhaps he had just solved his problem?

He gazed across the room at Nathan then, cold calculation on his face, he would have to be the only one who knew of Frances' demise. All must still believe she lived, and he could not trust this secret to be kept by the fearful boy. Yet Bennett had no wish to kill him. In one lightning fast, fluid movement Bennett dropped Nathan unconscious to the floor. Taking a quick peek outside to see he was unobserved, satisfied, he closed the door behind him ensuring his privacy. Drawing the knife from his scabbard, testing it for acute sharpness he casually excised Nathan's tongue.

Bennett did not appear at the communal fire until long after dark, he had after all, many loose ends to clean up. Waiting in his cabin for the onset of darkness he could at last remove and dispose of Frances' body unseen. He took her to the far reaches of the dump, digging a shallow grave. It did not need to be so deep he reasoned, as he moved in place a heavy piece of a truck tray. Muscles rippling with grunting effort, sealing her anonymous resting place from predators, or the prying eyes of others. This done he was feeling decidedly hungry, so he set off for the cave, his mood feeling all the better in light of the solution he had found.

Bennett swaggered toward his rightful place, all his men in silent deference to his presence amongst them. He lounged casually on his chair, beckoning Raissa at once to him. She was sitting close by Sven, but she rose hurriedly to comply, in spite of her fears. Thinking that he wished her to serve him his evening meal. "Your healing is needed in my cabin, go see to it. The place needs some tidying too. Take a man with you." He singled out a warrior who swiftly came forward ready to do as he was ordered. Bennett eyed him without interest adding. "Take a torch keep and eye on her."
"Yes, Sir." The warrior replied, already turning on his heel to do as he was bid. Bennett by this time demanding the choicest portions of the meat, his mind now ready to deal with matters pertaining to the upcoming expedition.

Sven crowded close to his leader's massive shoulder, eager to explain the days progress to his Lord. "We can leave at any hour." He stated, hoping Bennett's mood had improved and he would be looked upon in favor for his work. Bennett was engrossed in his meal, and took some time to answer, making Sven somewhat nervous with the ensuing silence.

"I have changed the plan." Bennett at last stated, his mouth full, still gnawing at the big joint bone, the grease running over his fingers. Sven tactfully held his silence, though he felt distinctly uncomfortable with this sudden unexpected change of heart. However he waited for his leader's explanation in silence.
"I have made alternative arrangements for the girl." Bennett stated bluntly, cutting off any response from his bewildered henchman. "She is hidden, imprisoned, with enough supplies to ensure her survival until we return. I assure you she will be quite safe, my old friend."

Sven Looked at him quizzically wanting to question this further, but he knew the folly of doing so, instead changing tact and replying.
"When do we move out?"
"We must wait a few days, I wish Nathan to accompany me, and he is not too well."
Sven's practical mind was racing, though he was careful to show no outward signs of his irritation, or hesitancy. Instead, reaching for his wine to cover his annoyance, feigning disinterest as he had learned to do so well.
"Very well then, we will be ready when you give us the word."
"Good," smiled Bennett, also quaffing his wine, his mood getting merrier all the while.

Raissa hurried through the dark toward Bennett's private domain, unsure of what she would find within. The warrior close behind her back, the flare of the torch casting evil seeming shadows everywhere she looked. She gratefully let the man who accompanied her pull the heavy door open, and as the torches light reached the darkened recesses of the room within, Raissa reeled in shock at the gruesome sight that greeted her eyes. Behind her the warrior stood impassive, pulling up a chair, making himself comfortable. He could see at once he would be needed here a while.

So much blood, the majority of it coagulated in sticky pools on the floor. Even more soaked into the bedding, and splattered on the walls. Raissa did not stop to wonder, the floor threatened to rush up to swallow her, and her stomach rose up in her throat. Before the guard could move to prevent her she bolted out of the door. Vomiting the remains of her dinner in the sand. The man waited patiently nearby, he said nothing, though she swore she heard him chuckle at her distress.

Finally she collected herself and with dread reentered the cabin. She saw him then, pale with loss of blood, huddled beneath the soiled bedclothes. Never had she seen one so afraid. What had the bastard done to him she thought angrily? The demise of the one she had loved still a fresh scar on her mind, further fueling her ire. With soothing words she approached the boy, at once mystified that he appeared to only sport superficial grazes and cuts.

Where had all that blood come from, she wondered? A chill of unease rose, making her shiver all along her spine. Nathan did not appear to respond to her gentle assurances at all, instead backing madly away with her careful advance, wild eyed and filled with fear. Before she could stop the boy he was past her running for the doorway, only to be apprehended by the warrior, foiling his escape. This was too much for Nathan, and it was only too horribly clear then to Raissa what had happened to him. As the boy attempted to scream issuing no more than a silent gurgling whisper, fresh blood gushing where his tongue had been.


Fortunately Sven did not have too long to wait his Master's pleasure. With Bennett announcing the following evening to all that they would depart in twenty-four hours. So here they all were the following dusk, assembled at the mouth of the valley, ready once more to go forth to war and glory.

Bennett had brought the bulk of his men leaving only Pig, Dwayne, and three others behind to manage the slaves, loading up all their packs with the last of their precious munitions. Their backs burdened by their heavy loads they set off at a fast trot. The only concession Bennett made to anyone was he let the still weak Nathan ride, realizing his pet would never keep up the blistering pace. The journey would take a few days, at least Sven had at last determined the fastest route, though he still in his search had no hard evidence against Renard. All in the party hoping the Wolf Lord had not begun the war, just yet.