Despite the oncoming darkness, Isi took off at a brisk place. After an hour on the road, he met two men walking in the opposite direction. Both stopped when they saw Isi approaching.
“Stranger,” said one man, named Glum. “What are you doing walking alone with only the clothes on your back?”
“I’m making my way home,” said Isi.
“Where’s home?” said Ottar, the other man. He was a large man with a bastard sword in a scabbard behind his back.
I hope to the gods this is right.
“Borg.”
“You’ve got a good two days walk from where we stand.”
“True.”
“Leaving Ashul?”
“Yes. I had business which ended in disaster.”
The following silence was awkward. Isi was unprepared for an encounter and so he needed a moment to land on a lie that was plausible. Food and water were at the front of his thoughts. He had some coinage left in his pocket, but it was almost dark and without a marketplace, fair or farm anywhere in sight, it was doing him absolutely no good, and he wasn’t about to hand it to strangers no matter what they had in return.
“Before I take my leave,” said Isi, “do you have anything to eat?”
“Are you nothing more than a traveling vagabond?” said Glum. “Living off the kindness of others, while not lifting a finger to work.”
Even in the fading light, Isi could feel the eyes of the two men staring at him with eyebrows held downward.
“I am not,” said Isi. “As you can tell, I’m not dressed in tattered clothing nor in need of bathing.”
“Then what are you doing out here?”
“I told you. I had a business deal that ended in disaster.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I invested in a ship that didn’t exist. I lost all of my coinage to those thieves.”
Are you pryers done yet?
Isi lowered his voice and spoke in a way that was just above a whisper. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell my wife or what I’ll do for work.”
Glum and Ottar turned to each other in search of a verdict on the man standing in front of them. The two were of good standing within their village and were on their way to Ashul to purchase cloth, spices, fish and cheese.
“What do you think, Glum?” said Ottar.
“Seems like a swindler to me,” said Glum.
“Ah, let’s give him something to eat. Let the gods judge him on his words. If he lies, what is that to us?”
“Alright. I still think he’s a mumblecrust.”
You two yaldsons are nothing more than an ass’s ass like the one pulling your cart.
Ottar pulled out day old maslin from his pack and tore off a small piece Isi accepted with an insincere thank you.
“You better find a place to bed down, such as it is,” said Ottar. “You throw your lot to the wind if you press forward.”
“Never know what’s out there,” said Glum. “People have sighted stray yelloweyes along walking paths seeking a lone wanderer to attack and rob.”
Better a dagger to the heart than mauled by one of those unholy things.
“I’ll take the risk,” said Isi. “I need to get home.”
“Even though I don’t trust you,” said Glum, “I don’t feel right about you walking on from here either.”
“You can sleep close to that tree,” said Ottar, pointing nearby. “But not by us. We don’t want you near our possessions.”
“The two of you have given me a fright over this yelloweye talk,” said Isi. “I may stay after all.”
Glum and Ottar set up their camp, complete with a small fire and food they had packed for the journey. Tomorrow, they would travel to Ashul’s harbor and return through these parts in two days. They’d given Isi a spare blanket, which he took and headed over a short distance to a tree nearby.
Isi feigned sleep while the two men fell asleep, replete with snoring. It was at this point Isi did what he did best—steal. Glum and Ottar underestimated Isi and his unbeknownst, until now, murderous side.
You men were fools to allow me to stay. Showing me a kindness while doubting my honesty? As if making me sleep away from you would do any good. I’m a desperate man and I know longer care about what I need to do in order to survive in this treacherous world. Weak bastards.
Isi rose from under his blanket, surveyed Ottar and Glum as they slept and noticed Ottar’s sword leaning against a tree next to his spot on the ground. The location of the sword told Isi all he needed about Ottar’s ability with a sword. He carried it to intimidate without the gumption to use it as intended. Glum was about Isi’s size and without a weapon unless he had a dagger hidden on his body.
Had you not acted like fopdoodles and insulted me, I may have merely stolen from you. But now I’m going to kill you and take it all.
Isi edged toward the sword and attempted to slide the blade out of the scabbard, but the sword didn’t budge.
Shit. This thing has a clasp.
Isi flipped the clasp open with great care, pulled the sword halfway out—
“Hey,” said Ottar. “What are you doing?”
The sudden shout discombobulated Isi, who fumbled the scabbard and sword to the ground while Ottar rose to his feet. Isi dropped to his knees and glanced up before turning to the sword, which he almost lost control of again before he slid it out of the scabbard.
The quick glance up allowed Ottar to close the gap between the two men. “You wandought.”
Ottar made a lunge at Isi as he whipped the sword blade from his kneeling position and pointed the sword at a forty-five degree angle at Ottar.
“My gods no,” said Ottar with eyes wide. The sword’s blade plunged halfway into his belly at an upward angle, just below the belt line. Ottar fell to his knees while trying to pull the sword out using the hilt and found himself looking at Isi.
“How could you?” said Ottar. “My wife, my kids—”
“Shut up,” said a stunned Isi. “Don’t make this worse than it needs be.”
“This hurts more than you can imagine, you bastard. I’m going to bleed out…”
Isi let go of his weapon when Ottar fell to his side. As his blood soaked into the soil, he weakly tried to pull the sword from his body, but only cut his hands.
“I hope the gods send you to the place of suffering,” said Ottar with a fading voice, just above a whisper.
“My life has been nothing but suffering,” said Isi. “Now you know what it tastes like.”
Glum.
Ottar’s friend sat up and watched in horror at his friend’s death. He made no movement other than sit up. Glum’s eyes were wide open, and his mouth was agape. Isi rose and pulled the bloody sword out of the dying Ottar’s stomach and pointed it at the dazed Glum.
“Don’t move,” said Isi as if a hot wind had scorched his tongue.
“You…you…killed my…friend,” said Glum.
“I know. Now it’s your turn.”
“No…no…no…please, I have a family.”
“Stop begging. It does you no good.”
Isi stepped toward Glum, who cowered by inching back toward the tree and ultimately rolling himself into a ball, blocking his head with his arms. The reaper of souls hovered nearby in the trees with his scythe ready to harvest another soul.
“That will not help you,” said Isi.
The same anger he unleashed against Evelina rose and unhinged Isi once more. He chopped down at Glum with the sword, gashing him with every blow. Every time the sword rose into the air, it came down harder with each devastating slice worse than even a butcher could imagine.
Finally, with blood splattered on everything around the slain man, including Isi, he exhausted himself and stopped the mayhem. Again, as his adrenaline regressed, Isi became sick and emptied what little was in his stomach onto the ground.
What has come over me? I’m nothing more than a monster. My gods, look at what I’ve done. Call me Isgaut Monster.
Rubbery legs failed Isi, and they deposited him on the ground. There was little time to waste if he wanted to escape before anyone might wander down the path. With haste, Isi pulled himself up and dragged the bodies further off the road and gathered what he needed and threw it into the cart. Mounting the mule with cart in tow, he rode off, leaving the camp in disarray and splattered in innocent blood.