Undying Blood - Beta - Chapter 03 (Patreon)

Glancing once more, he saw the pack of four was only about two hundred yards behind him and they were giving everything they had.

Less than half a mile out was the stone wall and wooden gate to Macenburg, and there on a horse sat Phillip.

Behind him were guards and what looked like a crowd, all starting to make noise as he arrived.

His legs burned, his feet had blisters and one boot was gone, coming apart and the bottom having vanished a mile ago.  Each step hurt as rocks pressed into his skin, yet Francis didn't care.

Every second felt like his body might lock up.  Snot was stuck on his lips. The salty taste when he licked them told him how bad he must look.

His shirt was discarded, and he could only imagine the sight the people were watching as a topless teen ran with a pair of pants that felt like they were riding up and one boot.

Still, the cheers kissed his ears.  It felt like a siren calling him, yearning for him to give everything.

Even as he stumbled, cursing when his toe caught a rock and blood gushed from the wound, Francis kept pushing on, ignoring what he sensed behind him.

Like a rabbit chased by hounds, safety was so close, he just had to endure, had to make it to the bastard who was sitting on that horse.

The pounding in his ears might have been blood, but Francis was certain it was the sounds of the teens behind him, their heavy breathing and larger bodies doing everything they could to claim the prize.

Two silver... two silver!

It was a fortune for him.  Knowing he would spend it all in two days meant fun and an opportunity he most likely would never get again.

Three hundred yards remained, and every step was excruciating.  Pain lanced up his whole right leg, unprotected against the stone that replaced the dirt, great for horses and carts, bad for bare feet.

He almost tripped, almost pitched forward as he stumbled, but somehow caught himself, digging deep within as the crowd outside the gate grew and they cheered.

Surely it's not for me!

Unable to hold back, Francis glanced behind his shoulder, risking tripping as he had before, and saw there was only thirty yards between him and Malcomb.  The older teen had outrun the other two, both now content to fall back, knowing the prize was out of reach.

Those blue eyes glared at him.  Like a demon, the blond headed raced after him.  He too was shirtless, having discarded it at some point as well.  The older boy’s body was drenched in sweat and that was when it hit Francis.

He's struggling... his gait... it's a pained one!

Malcomb was running with his legs swinging out slightly to the side.  Like he had pulled something inside his groin or had a massive chafing from the running. It was affecting his gait.

Francis knew the pain of the chafing, but it was minor compared to the rest.  

Emboldened by the thought that the older teen was suffering, he ran harder, ignoring his lungs and their plea to stop this torture.

Wagons were outside with people standing in them, cheering and shouting.

Men and women of all ages were clapping.

It was what felt like the greatest moment of his life.

Like a dream where he returned, a victor, earning the people's praises.

Even Phillip seemed to be laughing, waving his hand for the pair of them to hurry.

Surging with everything left inside, Francis ran.

The sounds of breathing and heavy steps grew closer, but he ignored it.

Thirty yards... just thirty yards.

"I'll.... kill.... you..."

Those three words sent a chill down his back, ignoring the sweat and pain in his muscles.

Something inside told him to move and, stumbling to the left, he felt one of Malcomb's arms brush his right arm before a crunching sound came.

Regaining his balance and still racing toward the spot where Phillip now stood before his horse, two hands held out, Francis saw the heap on the stone that lined the street where Malcomb lay.

That bastard! He tried to tackle me!

People roared with laughter, cheered with howls of excitement, and Francis stumbled as he reached the man he hated almost as much as his father and slapped the outstretched hand with his.

"WINNER! Francis!"

Stumbling past Phillip, Francis started to fall but hands caught him as the crowd closed in around.

Everything hurt and he couldn't breathe and yet as they came close, slapping his sweat covered back and chest, Francis was grinning as best he could between ragged breaths.

Through the crowd he spotted Malcomb not moving and couldn't help but feel even better, trying to not cry out in pain when someone stepped on his injured toe.

Real heroes don't cry!

[ Stat Increase ]

[ Endurance: 13 ]

[ Agility: 9 ]

His body felt a slight tingle, power filling him as he saw the message appear in his vision off in the corner.  

Two stats! I gained two stats!

His grin grew as he felt alive.  The statement Phillip said proved true.  Gains only come through pain.

"You did it!"

Not caring that the embrace was sweaty or painful, Francis returned the hug that Michael gave.

"You're a flipping idiot for running through the forest, but a rich idiot!"

Both chuckled and as the others came in, they stood near Phillip, waiting for who would be last.

Malcomb was being tended to, three teeth missing from when he smacked into the stone street.  If his blue eyes could shoot daggers or fireballs, Francis had no doubt where they would end up.

"He is pissed off, you know that?"

Nodding, Francis stretched a little, counting the people who were standing around and those they could see on the road.

"I count sixteen!" Phillip called out. "If David doesn't show up before dark, know his name is on the list.  Bring me his head and you will earn two silver! For now, follow me! It's time to get you cleaned up and fitted for battle!"

Without waiting, the man rode off, leaving those who were still coming to catch up and headed into the gate that was about thirty yards away.

Francis had studied the town as he waited for everyone to finish.  Atwenty-foot stone wall encircled this side of the town that ran along the woods.  Fifty or more yards of cleared area lay between the treeline and the town.  

Inside was a world of smells and sounds that beckoned for him to enter and spend his prize.

The guards all nodded at him as he and Michael walked side by side, getting to see the town again after their quick visit.  

Stone and wood buildings were packed tightly, set along streets that ran in a straight line.  He kind of remembered what they had passed before, but it had been months and Phillip appeared to be taking them down a different street.

People were going back about their business and both boys noticed how the population had changed since they had been there.  Fewer kids their age and younger men were around.  Now there were a lot more women and mainly older men.

"Look!" Michael exclaimed as he pointed down a street they walked past.

A group of girls were watching them, all easily their age or older, smiling and waving, standing  near a building that had a sign which told them exactly what the house was for.

"I bet you could do well there with seven silver!" his brother stated as he gave him a nudge. "I mean, you might even get a discount as the winner."

His cheeks felt red and Francis shook his head.

"I'm not sure I want to go that path... while it looks tempting, we both remember what happened to Peter."

Michael's face changed into a grimace and he bobbed his head.

"Yeah... that took a little silver and a healer to stop that rash... perhaps you're right... I'm hurting enough from running. I really don't need that kind of pain before we go into battle."

Both of them chuckled as they recalled how their fourth brother had suffered a nasty infection after a visit to Hursburg to make some trades on their family's behalf.  Apparently, he had visited a few too many of those places and caught something that made his life very difficult for a month.

***

"Now then, listen up. I'm not going to repeat myself and you all best understand that I will not tolerate any disobedience.  If you do, I'll personally make sure you're on the front line of the initial charge."

The glare he gave felt normal until it came to rest upon Malcomb, who seemed caught off guard, taking a step back as the man glared at him.

"From this moment on, I will not tolerate any fighting. If you do, it's a free trip to the front lines. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!"

Everyone shouted at once, all knowing that was a death sentence for certain.

"Good. Each of you was healed from the injuries of the race. Well, those of you who could be healed," he continued, nodding as his eyes scanned them all again. "Now, your equipment is everything.  You've been measured and tomorrow the only fitting you will get with a chance for alterations will take place.  Miss it, and you might find yourself with armor that flops around, impeding your ability to do anything which again means death.

"I've given you your coins.  Spend them as you see fit.  Just know that when the bell sounds, I expect you here within an hour.  Be late and... well, you know what will happen."

Francis nodded, squeezing the coin purse in his hands.  He already had plans for how it would best be spent.

"Listen, eat, drink, sleep and live.  You are only guaranteed a few more days.  Take it from me," Phillip said as he ran a finger along the line on his face. "There are some things worse than death, but even they can be worth enjoying.  If death comes, know the gods watch our souls.  If death doesn't find you, then piss in its face and find me! We shall drink one together because on that day, you have become a real man!"

Everyone laughed as the asshole they all hated smiled for a moment.

"Now go! Daylight is fading.  Be smart and don't forget to come by tomorrow to get your gear taken care of.  Swords and shields are given when we march!"

Everyone broke away, most going in packs of two or more.  Only Malcomb found himself alone.

***

A long burp escaped his mouth and Francis started to laugh until another burp escaped, bringing up a little of the food he had just finished.

"Gods that smells! What did you eat?" Michael asked as he waved his hand.

"Everything!"

Both boys laughed as the tavern they were in was alive.  A few others from their group were in a booth, drinking and eating, watching the few who had decided to attempt dancing after the run today.

None looked near as impressive as those who danced with them.

The local men and women were spinning and kicking up their feet, keeping beat with the drum and flute that set the tone.

Everyone seemed excited at the prospect of the young men who were going to defend their kingdom, no all the kingdoms, from the threat of some outside force.

Though I think it's the silver we are about to spend that really has them excited.

As the night wore on and the pair of brothers enjoyed a brief moment of wondering if life could really be like this, they finally were helped upstairs and dropped off in their room.

Sleep came, and both slept like they hadn't in ages.  

Happy, full, and believing anything was possible.