The Warrior's Heart

Copyright © Sable Grey 2010
All Rights Reserved, Total-E-Ntwined Limited, T/A Total-E-Bound.

Excerpt From: The Warrior's Heart

Viktor’s hands shook as he stared down at his father’s lifeless face. He was dead. No! It couldn’t be real. But the thick rope-burn which encircled his father’s neck was real enough. Dieter Kelemen had been murdered in his bed. Sorrow pierced through him as he reached for his father’s arms with shaking hands. He felt like screaming, like ripping at his clothes. Instead, he bowed his head into Dieter’s chest and muffled the sounds of anguish that pushed past the lump that formed in his throat.

Behind him, he heard his four brothers enter one by one, heard their intakes of breath and Alger’s low curse. In the far corner, Katarin, their only sister, wept.

Viktor straightened and curled his fingers in the thick coverlet, then threw it back, revealing the stab wounds to Dieter’s body. His father had been stabbed repeatedly. His gaze darted to the mark around his neck. Stabbed while someone choked off any shout of alarm. His father’s knuckles were busted. He’d gone fighting. Viktor would have expected nothing less. He’d never known his father to be a weak man but the thought of him struggling for a breath as he swung at his assailants made bile rise in Viktor’s throat. He also saw the bite marks, many of them, as if more than one had bitten him.

No blood, he realised. His gaze darted to the thin woman who stood at the opposite side of the bed, noting the deep lines that wore into her face around her mouth. Her dark eyes were red-rimmed indicating she’d been crying. Viktor frowned. Ilona had been his father’s slave years before his mother’s death but Viktor knew she’d been his lover for a much longer time. Though her own heart was broken, she’d washed Dieter’s body clean and changed the bedding to spare Viktor and his brothers the sight of their father’s bloodshed.

The large room suddenly seemed too small for him, and the grey stone walls of Kelemen Castle felt as if they were closing in, pushing the air from his lungs. He stumbled backwards but Alger’s firm hand rested on his back.

“How has this happened, Father?” Viktor whispered. “Who brought your death to our door?”

Ilona’s slender hand shook as she lifted a piece of material. “I found this in his bed. I had to pry it from his fingers.”

Viktor’s gaze rested on the crest sewn into the crimson stained material. Recognition settled and sudden rage filled his chest. The shout started from deep within him, tore from his throat and bounced around the room. When he turned, his brothers backed away and Katarin hurried to Ilona’s side, burying her face into her mother’s shoulder.

Viktor grabbed the table nearest him and hurled it against the stone wall, splintering the wooden structure into pieces. He vowed, in a voice that was only half human, that he would not rest until his father’s death was avenged.