Cracking his knuckles, Aldrich raised his fist against Drake. His golden rings plunged deep into Drake's skin, printing a mark against his cheek as well as tearing his skin. Drake fell back, banging his head against the wooden table. He held his face, feeling the warm blood spill from the fresh cuts on his face.
"You sent one of your snakes to attack Lukosea!" Aldrich growled while adjusting his fingerless gloves. "Not only that but you tried to hide the fact that one of the camps was attacked." Aldrich grabbed Drake's collar, pulling him forward to struck his fist on his jaw.
"I did not want to bother you with such small things," Drake said while raising his hands, showing Aldrich his palms. Blood flowed from his busted lip. He kept his head low, refusing to look into the beastly eyes of Aldrich.
Once again, his fist struck Drake's face. With a jerk, he pushed Drake against the table. Drake's lower back jabbed into the ends of the table, making him cry out in pain. Aldrich gritted his teeth, then dragged Drake onto the table. He pressed his arm against Drake's neck, choking him.
"You call them small things! You ruined years of work!" Aldrich spat while throwing Drake against the ground.
Aldrich tugged the string of his fur cloak, and pulled it over his shoulder and dropped it onto the wooden chair beside the crackling fire. He turned on his heels, pulling the dagger from his hip, and spun the dagger and lifted it towards Drake. The tip of the blade touched the underneath of Drake's chin. A single move and Drake would have his blood spilled onto the floor. Pulling his head back, he pushed Aldrich's arm back.
"They just showed up!" Drake screamed, holding his hands out to Aldrich. Aldrich stopped. "The reason I sent the snake there was to see why they suddenly showed up at our camp!"
Why did a small group of knights show up?
Aldrich's gut told him something was wrong. He looked down at Drake, noticing he was gripping the side of his shirt with his other hand. Aldrich pursed his lips. Drake often did that when he was either lying or withholding information. His blood boiled, and he was ready to simply throw him into the firepit now simply for lying. However, he needed him.
Aldrich clenched his teeth. His grip shook the blade as he lowered it, and then he threw it into the nearby wooden post of his tent. Lifting his hands, he placed his hands onto Drake's face.
"You've always been loyal to me, for that, I'll overlook this mistake. Don't do this again, or I really will kill you next time." Aldrich pushed him away and rose to his feet. Brushing off his tunic, he turned around and began to walk back to his war table, until Drake grabbed his ankle.
Aldrich turned around while he bore his teeth. Drake had his face pressed against the dirt floor, almost looking like he was bowing to him. His body shook as he slowly drew back his hand before speaking.
"Please," Drake pleaded. "I have failed you. I beg that you whip for what I have done. I won't be able to forget my failure unless you whip me."
A smile curved on Aldrich's lips as he laughed through his nose. Using his dirt-covered boot, he raised Drake's chin. His hazel eyes met with Drake's while he motioned his hand for him to get up. Drake pulled himself up to his feet, using the nearby wooden pole to help him. Aldrich left Drake's side and went to pick up his fur cloak off of the chair.
He walked out of the tent, throwing on his cloak as he walked through the sloppy mud. Rain poured from the sky, causing his light brown hair, which was parted towards his left, to become dark and stick to his sharp cheeks. Drake followed behind him, as well as some of the other members of venom. Slaves turned their heads as he walked near them, and raised them once he passed. Bandits smiled and nodded as he passed. Everyone knew where he was going.
He walked up the hill. Coming into his sight, twenty wooden posts with chains attached to them were scattered out into an open field. A few bandits were already up there, unchaining some of the slaves and dragging them away.
One man was chained to one of the posts, with his cheek pressed against the splintering wood. His arms were wrapped around the pole, hugging it as his bareback was raised towards the sky. It was covered in dripping blood and opened wounds, some of which leaked a green ooze. The moment his swollen eyes looked towards Aldrich, he turned his head and pulled his body tighter together. Aldrich heard his whimper, but only kicked mud his way while he let out a small grunt.
"Chain Drake to the pole," Aldrich commanded.
The men did not push nor tug Drake, instead, they watched as he walked up to the pole and pressed his arms around it. One of the bandits pulled the chain, dragging it across the mud as it came closer to Drake. The click of the chain filled Aldrich's ears, telling him that his next prey was ready to be fed to his whip.
While his men ripped Drake's shirt, Aldrich stared at his throne. A throne that was made of moss, mud, and countless stones that they had taken from buildings that Venom once raided. A throne made in the age of his great grandfather before the savage war. With each step, he climbed up towards his seat. The heels of his boots echoed on the rock texture. He lowered himself, placing his knuckles underneath his chin as he watched the men prep Drake. Rain dripped down his face, trailing around his eyes and into his scruffy facial hair. His lips twitched into a slight smile as he waited in anticipation.
A tall man walked up next to his throne. His chest visibly displayed the snake, venom's symbol. Aldrich looked down at him, and the man's large face nodded his head while sliding the whip against his fat fingers. Aldrich waved his finger, giving the man, his punisher, the signal. The man took a step forward, flexing his dark muscles as his grip tightened around the whip's handle.
With a jerk of his head, the men quickly scattered away from Drake, each of them with wicked smiles. The whip cracked in the air, eventually finding its bite against Drake's back. Blood quickly seeped out of the broken skin. With another loud crack, the whip was brought down. Again and again, it bit away at Drake's skin. The rain spilled down his bare skin. The blood on his back drenched down towards his sides. His hands hugged the pole to the point his nails bled from the wood digging in his fingertips.
Aldrich watched as crimson ran down Drake's back. The corners of his mouth curved slightly, and it was just enough to give him a slight smile. Aldrich tapped his foot against the step, making the tall man stop. Raising himself from his throne, he strolled over to Drake. His ice-cold fingers pressed under Drake's chin and he lightly lifted up his head.
"Do you think you've had enough?" Aldrich asked in a soft voice. Drake shook his head, causing Aldrich to drop his hand. "No? Very well, if you insist."
Aldrich waved his hand, signaling for the man to bring his whip down once more. Drake gritted his teeth in an attempt to muffle his voice. It didn't take long for his screams to escape. The ground beneath him had become a sloppy mixture of blood and mud. His body slid and he held to the pole as a means of keeping him stable, but the ground kept attempting to swallow him whole. Aldrich looked down at Drake, locking eyes with him as he was beaten.
Pathetic. Even now you continue to try and prove yourself, and yet you still don't realize that I'm using you.
Aldrich waved his hand and turned to walk away from the scene, leaving Drake behind with the men. He walked down the hill, eventually finding himself in the center of the camp. The sounds of rolling dice and rain pounding against metal filled the air.
In a nearby tent, a few of his men were gathered around a small wooden table, with dice in their hands as well as a few cups full of ale. The three would roll the dice and stare eagerly at the end result until one cheers while the other two grumble and drink. The group continued to throw the dice, drinking as Aldrich passed by.
Before him, a group of men gathered around in a circle. Their voices rose and chanted while two men wrestled in the mud. One was chocking the other, pressing his thumbs into his throat while he thrashed around. Aldrich paid no mind to the coins being tossed into the air as hushed whispers followed. He continued to walk past, passing the unlit firepit as well as a few scraps of meat and leftover ale bottles.
Aldrich came up to a tent, which quickly filled the sounds of pleasure into his ears. The tent always had a musky smell to it, however, the men enjoyed it sometimes since it was quicker for some of them. The bald man next to the tent noticed Aldrich's glare towards the tent. When Aldrich turned to him, he spoke.
"You know what I like. I want it tonight," Aldrich demanded.
The man nodded his head, and Aldrich continued to pass by the moment he was sure the man understood. He pressed forward, while his boots stuck to the ground and mushed as he took each step. When he lifted his head, he noticed one of his scrawny boys standing before him, though he was having trouble recalling his name. The boy's arms shook as Aldrich looked down at him. With trembling hands, he held out a piece of paper to Aldrich.
"What is this?" Aldrich asked while taking the paper into his hand. He unfolded it, briefly scanning the paragraphs while he waited for the boy's answer.
"It's from the person who always ties their letters in the red ribbon," the boy answered. Aldrich looked over at him, noticing that he hung his head low as if to avoid looking at him. Folding the paper, he stuffed it into the front belt of his pants.
"So one of the spies from Lukosea. Listen, boy, you always bring me my letters," Aldrich said, making the boy lift his head. Placing his hand on the boy's shoulder, he squeezed it lightly. "Why don't you go get yourself something to eat for your work."
The boy nodded his head and ran off towards the culinary tent. A small smile crept onto Aldrich's lips before turning around and continuing towards his tent. Pulling back the cloth, he stepped inside the warm tent. The firepit was still lit at the center of the room. Taking off his cloak, Aldrich placed it onto the back of his chair. He fell into the seat, kicking up his leather boots upon the wooden table before him.
Pulling the letter from his pants, he unfolded it and began to read the inky letters smeared across the page. Some of the news wasn't a surprise to him, such as one of Drake's snakes attacking the city or the potential of the camps being discovered. The letter mentioned that they have yet to send troops to any of the watch camps. Most of it was good news, however, his eyes landed on a peculiar set of information.
"There's been talk about a halfling who used to be one of your slaves. One with red hair and green eyes. I believe it might be the one you're looking for, let me know if I need to do anything for you."
Aldrich scoffed folded the paper once again. He leaned his head back, staring at the roof of the cloth tent. Lifting the paper, he held it over the lit candle at his desk. The embers of the small flame eventually lit the end of the paper, sparking a flame. It ate at the paper, ripping its flesh into shreds and then into ash, eventually making it no more. Holding the burning paper out towards the firepit, it fell from his hands into the fire.
Seems that's what you were holding from me.
Aldrich dropped his head into his hand. A smile inched its way onto his face, as a laugh peeled its way through his mouth. Out of the corner of his eyes, he looked at the chain by his bed. He could see her slender legs wrapped around the cuffs now. He could see her tan skin stained with scars yet she remained ever so beautiful. He felt he could reach out and run his hands along her fiery hair, feeling as each strand fell from his fingers. He made his way to his bed. Placing the palm of his hand against her check, he pulled her closer. She slid her fingers along his arm, eventually meeting his hand with hers. The warmth from her flushed cheeks seeped into his palm.
"You ran from me," he growled. "Why did you run?"
Without thought, he wrapped his hands around her neck and pushed her down onto his bed. Her skin stretched and twisted from his grip, making it impossible for her to breathe. The edges of his sight began to turn into a haze, which soon covered all of his vision.
With ragged breaths, he blinked away the haze and found himself on top of his bed. She was gone, for even his illusion had to run from him. Taking in a deep breath, Aldrich slumped over onto his bed and rolled over to where he would be facing the ceiling. It felt like his chest was being pushed by multiple sets of arms as if they were trying to crush his ribs.
The ringing in his ears faded into the sounds of firewood crackling. Soon, the voices of his men trailed around his tent, as well as footsteps. Crushing leaves and breaking sticks grew closer to the tent, and it was only a matter of minutes before a voice called out to him.
"I brought what you requested," a burly voice called from outside the tent.
A woman stumbled in. Chains choked her wrist and feet like leeches sucking her dry. The sounds of the constant rattling were enough to tell him that she was shaking. He rose from his bed and held his hand out to her. Knowing better than to disobey, the woman walked to him. Her thin legs rocked while her small feet, which were covered in bruises, pressed against the floor. Her hand reached out towards his. Wrapping his fingers around hers, he pulled her into his bed.
We've finally made it to Aldrich's chapter! If you have any thoughts or opinions why not tell me in the comments below. What are your thoughts on Aldrich? I don't have much to say this chapter, so I'll keep this short. Thanks for reading and have a wonderful evening!