Schuyler Stories: Jan

Dark Night

It was a cold autumn night towards the middle of December, nearly winter, unfortunately for the curly-haired blonde man that rode the carriage back towards the castle with a few others. The man, a member of King Henry VIII's court, named Jan Schuyler sat in the back of the carriage wiping sweat from the face of a shaking older male who lay in the back, propped up with his head in the lap of another soldier. The man had a large cut on the left side of his head, his ear hanging by a thread as his blood dripped down onto the wooden floor of the carriage. There was also a stab wound that went through the elder, considering he had likely been attacked from behind before he was abandoned on the floor to bleed out and die as his wife was raped and murdered before his very eyes. Therefore, Jan did find himself worried about the mental health of this man, just like he did about any man to which this occurred to, and unfortunately, they seemed to have a serial killer on their hands, as he had found men in states similar to this male who told the same story as he did. So while yes, Jan feared what these experiences might do to their mental health, he knew that at these moments in time it was important to worry about the physical state of the injured males left behind. Because the mental state of this man wouldn't matter at all if he ended up dead!

Jan looks up a bit confused when the carriage suddenly halts, the wheels and horses stopping so close that he is thrown backward, his back hitting one of the wagon walls knocking the wind out of him. While he lay there, struggling to catch his breath, he heard another soldier call up to the front of the carriage driver sat, "what is going on up there?!"
"I don't know!" The carriage driver yells back, the confusion clear in his voice. "They just halted, and they won't move forward!"

The soldier rolls his eyes grumbling something about spending too much gold on incompetent carriage drivers as he jumps out of the back of the carriage to go see what was up. Jan manages to return to his position kneeling back over the patient. But suddenly, he quickly froze again. He heard a whizzing sound, like one that comes from an arrow being fired from a bow. He then heard something that sent a shiver up his spine. A 'hrk' sound coming from the soldier before the sound of a body hitting the frozen ground. The other soldier draws two swords throwing one to Jan, who catches it with surprising ease. The man look impressed for a moment, but doesn't comment on this, instead just barking an order:

"Protect the patient!" He shouts, his voice calling over the sound of others fighting and the startled cries of the horses.

While Jan usually hates being bossed around, he knows better than to argue. And so he stands over the patient as the last soldier exits the cart leaving him alone with the dying man lying just below him.

"W-what is going o-on?" The man stutters, already pretty out of it from both his physical injuries and the shock of what had just happened to his wife.

"Just a quick fight, it will be over soon." He explains hesitating a moment before choosing to ask a question he tended to avoid for fear of overly attaching himself to his patients. "What is your name sir?"

"George..." the man mumbles, his voice failing him. "George Wyatt... and I have a beautiful wife named Martha. She is gorgeous, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir I do." Jan agrees deciding now was not the time to try and explain to George that his wife had been killed just an hour or so earlier.

"Yes... she is just perfect for me doctor... I don't think I could continue to live on without her..."

Jan sighs staring ahead to avoid looking at the man and allowing both his sadness and slowly developing attachment to increase. "Yes... just get some rest George, you're going to need it."

"Yes, love," George mumbles clearly no longer aware of his surroundings.

Jan stays still despite the fighting slowly ending and a scent of burning filling his nostrils. The horses had stopped crying too. He figured the soldiers had won the fight, but no.

Suddenly two men, clearly some sort of bandits or rebels entered the carriage chuckling to themselves. Jan charged them with the sword raised catching them surprised. He manages to kill one of the men, while the second one jumps out of the carriage calling for help. Jan gives chase to him knowing that if he got reinforcements than he would never be able to defeat them all.

Unfortunately for him, the reinforcements were already waiting outside the carriage and when he jumps out about three men tackle him. Two sit on his legs while pinning his arms, the third on his back, holding his neck to keep his head against the ground. He grunts in a mix of pain and frustration as someone grabs his sword from his hand. One man smirks looking him over a minute before speaking, "you're the doctor of the royal court, yes?"

Jan remains silent refusing to speak, even after the grip around his neck tightens to the point where breath couldn't get into his lungs anymore. "Are you going to cooperate and answer us this time?" The same man asks pointing the sword at Jan's head.

He squeezes his eyes shut, barely able to shake his head waiting for his head to be sliced open, but the blow never comes. He cracks open an eye just in time to see the male loop a chain around his neck. He tries to struggle, confusion radiating off of him, but his efforts were quickly revealed useless. "It's okay, you don't have to tell us, we already know..." the bandit cooed stroking Jan's cheek like he was some sort of animal. He tries to pull back, but the chain prevents him from doing so.

The man laughs as he yanks the chain before slamming his fist into Jan's nose sending his head back, with a crack sounding in both his nose and neck as Jan found himself having blacked out for a moment and when he woke up, things were even worse. He knew his nose was broken from the way it bled and felt when he came to. He found that his whole body had been tied up, and then his ankles and wrists tied a second time as some sort of precaution. He attempts to cry out as the tightness and lack of ability to move frightened him. But his failed attempt to call for help is what caused him to realize, his mouth was bound shut with some sort of lock, like the ones used on horses, but smaller.

He grunts when two men lift a stick which also raises him and he finds his ankles and wrists are tied up, which is how he is lifted. He squirms, but it is no use. He swings back and forth as they march him into the forest, tied as though he was a pig they planned to cook alive. 'Someone please... help me' he prays under his breath, but it was too late.

Whatever fate these men had for him... he was going to meet... and he closes his eyes, silent tears rolling down the sides of his face as this realization hits him.