CHAPTER 8.

MARCUS.

Soft and warm rays of sunshine caressed his face. Marcus inhaled deeply and fluttered his eyes open. An immediate headache attacked him. Small electric sparks within his skull made him turn away from the sunshine. But then it hit him, instead of calmly waking up. Dread and panic hit him. Where was Axel? Where was he? And why did she allow him to sleep in? He wondered a constant series of questions in his mind. He propped himself up with his elbows. The blankets crumbled beneath him. He took a moment and started to think about where he might have been.

Clean sheets and blankets, a wooden bucket next to his bedside, in case he got sick the next morning. His eyes traced over the old, wooden floorboards beneath the bed.

Marcus's eyes traced over the thin sheet of paper that sat on the nightstand.

His weight shifted off of the bed. The boards beneath him creaked, threatening to wake anyone up that was nearby. It was early in the morning. Marcus then realized that he was in one of the small rooms of the Inn. With a slow stride, he appeared to be interested in what was happening outside. Marcus turned away from the small window, after seeing a couple of folks passing by on the streets. He stopped in his tracks when he saw a thin sheet of paper on the small nightstand. His fingers grazed the piece of paper. Without further hesitation, his eyes traced over the fairly neat writing.

"She's in good hands, we should be back before you wake up. Signed by Gavin..." Marcus read out loud to himself. But the fact that the sun was already out worried him. Was she back? And he just met Gavin. He felt his chest tighten. The paper in his grip started to crinkle.

Marcus searched the room for his leather boots and his bow and arrows. He was sure Gavin wouldn't understand how much his bones ached that she went with Gavin instead of waking him up? His nostrils flared and he felt agitated that Gavin went with Axel to wherever instead of him.

A deep sigh escaped his lungs, maybe she was alright. Maybe he could trust Gavin like a brother. 

But if he managed to get her killed or hurt he would pay. Marcus flipped the string of his bow over his head and onto his chest. First thing was first, he had to know if she was back or not.
Maybe the Innkeep might have an idea, otherwise, he would have to take the chance of asking strangers.

He pushed through the halls, quietly creeping down the stairs. No one was sitting in the tavern areas, nor did it seem as if anyone was awake at this hour. Based on what he observed he started to feel a pit form in his gut.

Not a soul seemed to have crept through the main room of the tavern. Nothing besides a mouse scurrying back to its nest, that is built in the corner of the Inn. Marcus ignored the weird flip his stomach made. He hated silence, he preferred to be somewhere much noisier.

This was exactly what drove his hopes into the ground. Now he needed to investigate and ask people around the place where she might be. He left the Inn and his eyes studied the streets. He watched folks pass by, soon the streets became occupied and noisy. 

Marcus stood there occupied by his thoughts on where to start. The stench of animal droppings was repulsive, it hung in the air like an impenetrable fog it made his nose irritatingly itch.

His eyes traced over the stables, across from the Inn. Marcus saw the kid from last night dragging a small cart of hay over to the stables. Marcus approached the boy, calmly.

"Hello again." the boy greeted Marcus. The boy continued to scatter fresh hay into the horse's trough.

"By any chance have you seen the woman I accompanied last night?" Marcus questioned the kid.

"No I haven't, but I heard someone that might have been involved with her disappearance, sir," the boy answered truthfully. 

Marcus widened his eyes, "Who?!" Marcus snapped. He felt a flame rise up his gut and into his chest. The boy jumped back to Marcus's actions, making the cart he held tip over.

"Look kid, I didn't mean to scare you. All I want to do is find my friend. And I'm worried I won't have that chance of finding her if we don't act fast." Marcus said with sincerity. He held emotion that the kid could sense.

"I heard them speaking about a blonde woman and a Native man being chased by the riders. I'll show you, sir." the kid grabbed onto Marcus's wrist and rushed off onto the streets. 

The young boy raced down the streets and stopped in front of a bench, across from the blacksmiths. A man with black, unkempt hair, concealed his hand under his marble, grey, cloak. Thick beads of sweat carried down his forehead, it almost seemed as if he had a fever.

"That's him," the kid whispered.

"Thanks. Here take this as a reward." Marcus passed him a couple of coffers. The child gave a cheeky and proud smile before running back to the stables. Marcus approached the man with a slow stride down the cobblestone and muddy streets.

He noticed a small crimson puddle beneath the bench that the man sat on.

"You have a problem? If not, fuck off." the man appeared to be quite the cuss to Marcus.

"In fact I do." Marcus grabbed the collar of the man's jacket and took him down into the mud. The man collided onto his side and mud-soaked into his grey cloak.

"What do you want from me, man?! I have done nothing to you!" the thief hollered at the top of his lungs. The man's screams attracted a lot of attention from the crowds of people on the street. People stopped and stared at the two, muttered things about the fight. While some yelled for Marcus to knock it off.

"I'm looking for a woman with shoulder-length, blonde, hair. She isn't like many women around here. She's tall and carries a sword on her left side." Marcus described her, waiting for the man to answer truthfully. Though the child could have been mistaken and this could have been a gossip going around with the folks of Londinium.

This man may not have anything to do with the roadside bandits. Though that cut was deep evidence that he could be involved with the attack.

"I don't know what you're talking about! Now leave me be!" the man cried out.

Marcus's hand hovered over the dagger on his belt. His finger itched to reach his blade and end him for lying to him.

"Last chance," Marcus growled, gritting his teeth as he meant it all along. Marcus grabbed his collar for the second time and slammed him into a stone pillar. Marcus inhaled sharply as his lungs burned.

"Okay! Okay! I'll talk! Just promise me you'll spare my life." the man begged.

"Might consider it, now talk!"

"The women you spoke about; attacked us first. My group and I fought back in self-defence. My group and I fled for our lives when the tales were true. The Riders have returned! We were separated after the riders showed up and chased them into Avagan forest." the man explained in a much calmer voice after knowing Marcus was serious.

"Thank you. That wasn't hard was it?" Marcus gently decreased his grip on the man's collar.

"N-no, no it wasn't." the man spun his heel to leave.

"Hold it, I didn't say you can leave. You're going to redeem yourself by showing me where the events went down.

The man halted in his tracks, his palms curled into tight fists. He was furious that Marcus treated him roughly and expects him to help Marcus.

"No. I am not helping you."

Marcus chuckled, it seemed that morning something beneath him changed. He didn't feel as if this man deserved kindness. But what was worse is that he felt the weight of the world on top of his shoulders. Marcus received zero cooperation, and his change of attitude felt as if he didn't even know who he was anymore.

"Alright, if you have better things to do. Then I'll just make sure to turn you in and you'll face an endless trial for all the people you have stolen, killed, and harmed. Even from concealing the evidence where my friend was attacked by the Riders, you can be held for the highest punishment in Londinium and that would result in you being hung." Marcus bluffed, trying to scare the living soul out of the man.

The man furrowed his brows and his eye twitched in irritation.

"Do you work for the Queen?" the thief questioned in fear, having an idea who Marcus was. To have information about Londinium's strict court system. The man started to think about his family that he abandoned years ago. For his children to watch the hanging of their father would be a devastating moment for him to slowly watch.

"Hired, but yes," Marcus answered simply.

"Fine. Ride out a couple of miles out of Londinium, follow the path until you reach an abandoned camp." the thief answered obediently. 

Marcus's jaw locked, but he felt his mind go to ease when the thief finally gave him a location to work with. Marcus took his blade out and showed him the blade. He allowed the thief to examine it closely. In confusion, the thief stared at Marcus in concern.

"If this is a trick. Then we have unfinished business we'll have to settle if I see you ever in my sight again."

"No! It's not a trick I swear!" the man hollered at Marcus. Marcus almost put the man into tears, to make a killer cry was something Marcus wasn't proud of. He made sure he wasn't wasting his time dealing with a deceptive thief.

Marcus didn't waste a moment gathering and preparing the horse the kid took care of. He held the reins of his horse, tightly. A couple of guards marched down the streets holding a stack of folded papers. While the other held a hammer and nails. 

Near the nearest announcement board, next to the Inn, they hung up multiple wanted posters. Marcus let go of the reins and hid around the corner of the stable doors. He felt childish for hiding, but he had a feeling about what this could be about. His eyes traced over three posters. Two of them were unfamiliar men, that looked rough, and the picture in the middle was a drawing of a woman that looked exactly like Axel...

He felt himself get light-headed and his blood ran cold. Why was she wanted for such a high price? He questioned himself. But that second it came to his realization that anyone could get to her before him, and now he had to act fast. Before a dire moment could prepare itself for her waking, for wherever she was. He pulled up his hood and climbed up onto the saddle.

It took less than an hour to ride out of Londinium avoiding harming anyone in his wake.
Marcus was on a warpath and he felt terrible for acting the way he did to that man.

He felt himself becoming something he wasn't. Marcus knew he wasn't this tough and brutal man. He was someone that was kind, protective, and bubbly. Not someone that would harm others to get what he wanted.

Gravel crunched under the horse's hooves, as he followed down the endless path. Marcus hated being on the road and not in his own home. The scent of the nearby bakery near his home he missed, but most importantly he missed his family. And Axel was like a sister to him, two orphans who supported each other ever since they've met. Two victims of war.

Marcus inhaled deeply and stopped when his gaze traced over a cart blocking the road. The camp next to it looked destroyed and abandoned, not to mention it was looted. He refused to stay back at Londinium and wait and the only person he ever cared about was; putting her life on the line to satisfy the Queen herself.

A faint buzzing was heard while the smell of decayed flesh hung in the air. He scrunched his nose and started to trace the whole scene by evidence that was left behind.

Marcus hopped off his horse and started to examine the scene as it unfolded. Piece by piece, he began with the body on the ground. It had a clean cut on its chest, or what was remaining after an animal got to the body before Marcus did.

 Marcus placed part of his cloak over his nose and turned away from the body. With hesitant steps, he avoided disrupting the footsteps on the ground. There were three bandits, two were one was dead, the other one was located in Londinium and the other was unknown.

Marcus knelt, identifying how old the blood was that stained the grass. A metallic, but dark copper colour stained the soil. He traced another attack over to the side of the campfire. He froze when he saw Ravens picking pieces of flesh off from the horse that layed in peace.

The station was the one he gave Axel before they rode out to Londinium. He held his hand over his mouth and his breaths started to quicken.

The stench got stronger as he approached the station. The Ravens took off flocking together as Marcus closed in on the animal's corpse. He travelled over to the other side of the horse. His eyes traced over a silver and plain-looking blade. It had a ribbon tied on it, the one Axel stole from the Court of Fighters.

He picked up the blade and started to break down into frustration. He gripped the blade tightly and shook in frustration. If she was unarmed it meant she had a slim chance at survival. Combat came to an extent of protection if your opponent was armed. 

But there wasn't a sign of Gaven, which meant he could be the one protecting her. Or he could still be alive. An uneasy and unsettling feeling started to build up within his gut when he found more tracks.

Hoove prints overlapping each other, he followed the steps and it lead to Avagan forest. It was a dark and sickly-looking forest. The branches were thick and barely allowed light to kiss the forest's soil. If Axel and Gaven were in there, it meant risking everything on finding them.
And that risk was meant everything to him.