***Garv***
The axe thudded against the chopping block, for what must have been the thousandth time, cleanly dividing a log into kindling.
Garv sweated profusely, panting over the axe as he struggled to wrestle it loose.
"We must be…nearly done…. by now." He said, finally heaving the axe free.
The thin axe seemed to be getting heavier, inexplicably, as the day had gone on. To the point that Garv could barely lift it now.
It was either cursed or Garv's arms were tired.
Magar sat on the ground beside him, head rolled backwards over a pile of straw. Staring at the sky, "We're nowhere near done. You know it as well as I."
Garv set down the cursed axe, looking over his shoulder towards the pile of un-chopped logs.
They had barely made a dent in it.
Garv fell to his knees, he felt like weeping.
Why were there so many logs?
He felt like he was going to die!
What is this fresh hell?
Had he died already?
Was this purgatory?
Garv looked at his hands, to check he couldn't see through them.
Was he fading out of existence?
"Snap out of it!" Magar spat bitterly, from his pile of hay, "You've done this three times already you melodramatic oaf! You are not dead! This is not purgatory! We have logs to cut, and it's still your turn!"
"Urgh, fine," Garv grumbled, picking up the axe.
A gentle waft of something sweet flowed through the air. Garv turned his tired head and was greeted with a welcoming sight. Through his blurry eyes, he could make out the image of Skye and Cassandra carrying a tray of drinks.
An illusion, a mirage?
No, it was really them!
Could those drinks be, for him?
"Goldie look! We brought drinks!" Cassandra's beaming face exclaimed.
Garv could have wept, if he had the moisture in his body to do so.
"Cassy don't run, you'll drop them!" warned Skye with a chuckle.
"I know, I know." Cassandra said, settling for a slow walk, the drinks teetered precariously on the tray as she controlled her pace.
Magar sat up from his spot on the hay, licking his dry lips.
Cassandra set the tray down carefully on the floor, and the pair quickly rushed over, like madmen who had been wandering in the desert for months.
Garv got his hands on a cup and after a quick nod of appreciation downed the whole thing in one go. The cool refreshing taste of apples mixed with water filled his mouth.
He felt like a new man!
Skye laughed at his enthusiasm and poured him another cup, from the jug she had in her hand.
He felt like he could drink this stuff forever!
"You've certainly made a dent." Skye said with a wistful smile, looking at their progress.
"We would of made a bigger one, if this lout hadn't kept wailing and falling to his knees every five minutes." Magar said under his breath, sipping his own drink.
"Aww, was Goldie tired?" Cassandra said mockingly at Garv's dishevelled state.
Garv simply nodded, he didn't have the energy to defend himself.
"Well, I suppose we've darkened your door for long enough," Magar said, finishing his drink, "we should probably be on our way."
Skye paused, a look of concern on her face, "Oh, really? It's no bother. I know, why don't you stay for dinner? I was just about to put it on."
"No really, we've been your burden for long enough." Magar started.
"Can we stay a bit longer Moody Maggie? Pleeeeease?" Cassandra pleaded.
Garv too, decided that dinner sounded good, "We can't refuse such a generous offer Boss!"
Garv could feel his tummy rumbling, just thinking about food.
"Very well," Magar relented, there was a strange look in his eye that Garv thought was peculiar, "I suppose it wouldn't hurt, as long as it's ok with you?"
"Oh no it's perfectly ok with me!" Skye said with a warm smile, "I'll just go ger things set up. Cassy do you want to give me a hand?"
"I'd love to auntie Skye!" Cassandra said, practically jumping on the spot with excitement.
With that the pair disappeared back inside, leaving Garv and Magar out by the chopping block.
Magar had a serious expression on his face as he watched the pair of them leave.
"What's wrong Boss?"
"Oh, it's probably nothing, come on, lets go scrub up a bit before dinner."
Something was definitely troubling Magar. But Garv put it to the back of his mind, there was food to look forward to after all!
They headed over to the stable and splashed some water on their faces from a nearby trough. Much to the disdain of the horses, looking rather annoyed that their drinking water was being used as a bath.
At least Garv thought they looked annoyed. He was never good with horses; do they get annoyed by things like this?
***
Dinnertime finally came around; the sun was down and evening had officially begun.
The delicious smell of Skye's cooking drifted outside and soothed their senses. They were in the stable still and had been relaxing. Taking off the weight off their day, it wasn't the sort of work they were used to after all.
The alluring smell of food brought them inside, where they waited patiently at the table until dinner was finally served.
They watched the same practiced routine from last time unfold, the children helping to set the table, Skye coming out with the food, everything seemed normal.
Except something was off, Garv couldn't quite put his finger on it. But as he tucked into his delicious meal, he got the distinct feeling that Skye seemed, nervous.
Like she was expecting something awful to happen at any minute. Garv kept his mouth shut throughout dinner, but the harder he looked the more obvious it appeared.
Skye's reactions seemed strained, acted, somehow disingenuous. It was troubling for him; she had seemed fine the night before. But now she appeared anything but.
Maybe this was what Magar picked up on earlier.
They finished their meal and prepared to leave.
"Thank you for the food, now we really must be off." Magar said politely.
"At this time? It's the middle of the night where would you go?" Skye said with a pained look, "You might as well stay here again."
"Oh, please can we stay!" Cassandra said, looking up from her spot at the table beside the twins. It seemed she had been getting along well with them.
Garv looked at the pleading faces of not just the children, but Skye too.
"I think we can stay for one more night, if you'll have us." Garv said forcing a smile.
"Garv-"
"It's ok Boss, we're in no hurry after all. What's one more night going to trouble us?"
Magar frowned slightly but conceded the point.
Garv knew what was going through his mind. But where Magar might have seen danger, Garv saw a cry for help.
"Oh, good!" Skye said with a relieved look, "I can get you some fresh blankets for outside if you'd like?"
"No-no, we'll be fine with what we have." Garv said courteously, raising a paw.
Magar looked sternly at him.
They would need to have a chat.
***
After dinner had been wrapped up, Garv and Magar headed back into the stable.
"What was that in there?" Magar said, fixing him with a stern gaze, "Something is going on Garv and I get the feeling we're all getting dragged into it."
"I know what you mean Boss, I felt it too." Garv said, returning his stare, "I think she's in trouble."
"Trouble?"
"She's scared of something, really scared, she want's us to help but she doesn't want to ask." Garv said resolutely, sitting down on a pile of hay.
"Do you think….the husband?" Magar said, pacing around the stall, hand on his chin.
Garv nodded with a sigh, "I get the feeling he's not a nice man. Maybe she's expecting him back soon. Few days, maybe even tonight, I don't know. "
Magar sat down next to him, "Where does that leave us? I don't even have my sword."
"Since when have you needed one?" Garv said with a chuckle, "I don't think we can leave just yet Boss. She needs our help, just as much as Cassy did."
"I suppose we're good guys now, after all." Magar snorted, flicking a bit of straw off his knee, "We'll just have to see how this plays out."
***Lord Cavendish***
The hour was late, but there were still lights on in the courthouse. Court proceedings were well underway, and the presiding Lord did not intend to call a recess just yet.
Lord Marcus Cavendish sat at the place of honour in the court. Normally, court proceedings would be presided over by one of the three judges in the towns employ.
However, for especially heinous and public crimes, the Lord must sit in attendance. The man charged with murder most foul was one of Lord Cavendish's citizens, a member of the town guard no less. Marcus felt exceptionally responsible.
But he had to remind himself to save judgement, until both cases had been adequately, and fairly presented. It was hard to remain impartial when the general public had already condemned the man.
His decision could affect, quite strongly, how the public felt about him or how they felt about the town guard. On the other hand, if he sentenced this man to his doom and he was innocent, he might as well be a murderer himself.
He would have to tread carefully.
All the evidence had been presented and the witnesses had been cross-examined. All that was left was the closing statements.
"My Lord, Legorias Finch is a ruthless man without a shred of empathy," Humphrey Floggins, the town prosecutor said, rising to his feet to address the room, "The evidence is watertight, all that remains to be decided, is the method to which his cursed soul shall be removed from this world!"
"We have an eye-witness testimony, placing him as the killer." Floggins said, pacing the room, "We all heard from the lips of poor Miss Miria Horne herself, how he brutalised her!"
"We have blood covered instruments found at Mr Finch's residence. We even have the severed tail of Miss Horne, found nailed to a wall! Along with the sadistically removed tails of at least six other people."
Floggins strode over to the prisoner and slammed his hands down on the table in front of him.
"There is a monster in our midst! One who prays upon his own kind. A sadistic predator with no remorse or compassion, who keeps trophies of his victims. Who knows how sick this man is, what untold horrors he might have committed and got away with up to this point?" He spat as he regarded Finch, genuine hatred in his eyes.
Floggins straightened his collar, turning back to Lord Cavendish, "My Lord, there is only one punishment, that even comes close to being foul enough, to dispose of this monster."
"The Well is what he deserves," Floggins said with a bitter snarl, "it is the least we can do to relieve some of the hatred, and misery, that he has inflicted on the victims and their families. A swift death is not something this man deserves."
With that, Floggins strode back to his seat, "The Prosecution rests, my Lord."
Marcus gave him a simple nod, prompting him to take a seat. A very well-presented case indeed. Marcus didn't really expect the defence to put up much resistance. Finch's public defender Rupert Southfield was a bumbling mess and likely thought his own client was guilty. He'd been half-assing the job up to this point.
Marcus supposed nobody liked the idea of defending a murderer, not a guilty one anyway.
Marcus stared into the cold eyes of Finch from across the room. He'd been almost catatonic throughout the proceedings. He'd plead his innocence but had nothing to back it up.
Southfield got untidily to his feet, spilling papers all over the floor as he did so.
'Come on man honestly' Marcus thought to himself with a sigh.
Southfield had been a continual disappointment throughout the trial, Marcus prayed he'd never have to be defended in court by anyone like him.
Finally collecting himself, Southfield began his statement.
"M-my Lord, my client is innocent! He has been framed by the sadistic killer you all wish to see face punishment!" Southfield said, as if surprised at the words coming out of his own mouth.
"Lieutenant Finch has maintained his innocence throughout this trial and even welcomed the searching of his residence. These are not the actions of a guilty man!"
"Boo!" Came a shout from the crowd, followed shortly by a chorus of similar mocking noises.
"Order….Order…..ORDER!" Marcus boomed across the court, "I will not have this courtroom turn into a circus!"
The ruckus died down. Order returned to the court.
"You may continue," Marcus said flatly.
"W-well my Lord t-that's really all I have." Southfield said sheepishly, with an awkward grin.
Marcus let out a loud sigh.
Southfield was really making this more difficult than it needed to be. Marcus would be well within his rights to declare a mistrial, then start from scratch with a more competent defence.
The current defence was just pathetic.
If it wasn't for the overwhelming evidence against Finch, he might just do that.
He looked again into the catatonic eyes of the doomed man.
Marcus could find no reason to spare him.
"Legorias Finch, I Lord Cavendish of Brocton, find you guilty of kidnapping, mutilation, and murder most heinous. I sentence you, to the Well of Rot."
A cheer went up in the court, along with bitter cackles and shouts.
Finch was led away, not even his sentencing brought a reaction out of him.
Something about the man gave Marcus chills.
Only time would tell if he'd done the right thing. Marcus was sure he had, but there was always room for doubt.
The whole affair had left a bitter taste in his mouth.