A Bend In Time Book 4 Chapter 277


Volume 4: Volume 4 Chapter 277 Recompence

A group of Death Eater's apparated out under the cool forest shadow before the old Carrow manor. Most of the Death Eaters were congratulating each other except for those that had been injured. "Bloody hell!" Shrieked, a squat young wizard with a doughy face and tiny eyes. Amycus Carrow held his bleeding hand, while his sister held his dismembered fingers in the other.

"I'll kill that Prince whore if it's the last thing I do!" Amycus swore out loud to the general guffaw of the rest of the death eaters.

"It'll be alright, brother," wheezed the stocky young witch with stubby fingers, Alecto Carrow.

"My poor Snyde, would have loved this!" Cried out, the perpetual red-eyed, puffy-faced, sniffling, widowed Empusa Snyde.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Empusa, sniffles, "There Amycus. I'll have you right as rain if not at least your fingers will stick. But first, we must see the Dark Lord."

The Death Eaters hurry forward to only come to a halt at seeing the two men of the hour. A delighted dandy, Pyrites, and the handsome newly graduated wizard with dark curly hair, S.R. Wilkes. Pyrites clapped his arm around Wilkes and grins most innocently.

"My, my, Wilkes, you clever, clever boy, Master will be sure to allow you into our innermost ranks," Pyrites purred. "The Dark Lord himself will mark you."

Wilkes flashes a cold grin and says, "That is all I've ever wanted."

"Your uncle, Primus is waiting inside, he'll be most proud," Pyrites said as he personally led the 17-year-old wizard inside the manor.

The great halls swing open to see Death Eaters reverently kneeling as Lord Voldemort impatiently waits for good news. His deathly pale face is most eager as crimson eyes shine with a snakelike gleam. "Welcome my loyal brethren," Lord Voldemort said as he gestured with wide open arms as if to hug them.

Pyrites bows as Wilkes quickly falls onto his knees as well. "Master," Pyrites reverently said. "Our faithful brother Rabastan Lestrange has fallen-." Pyrites paused watching most intently the crowd especially the elder Lestrange, but there was not a single sudden movement from him. "However, the younger Lestrange reclaimed his family honor for he did indeed slay, Abraxas Malfoy."

"Wonderful," Voldemort breathed in joy. "His glorious sacrifice shall forever be remembered."

Stepping down from his throne his trailing robes seem to hiss as Voldemort moves across the marble floor. "Wilkes is it? Primus has told me much about you. Come show me your face."

"Yes, Dark Lord," Wilkes said as he glanced up into, the pallid face.

"Yes, you are quite strong and cunning," Voldemort mused as he looked into the boy's mind. "You've done well and for that, you shall be rewarded." Without warning, he took Wilkes' left arm and pressed his finger into the arm as he began to chant. Blood and ink began to mix as more than just a simple tattoo was inscribed onto Wilkes flesh, but more they the fools for accepting without any question.

Wilkes clenched his teeth together as he tried not to scream. After what seemed like an eternity Voldemort finally released his arm. Wilkes though sweating and panting remained silent the entire time. Voldemort nods his head in approval and says, "A credit to your family."

Turning to stare at the envious filled eyes of those Death Eater's that did not yet bear the inner circle marks. "All those that have participated in the raid shall also be rewarded," Voldemort purred. "Come forth to receive your prize."

There is a moment of hesitation until a rugged, domineering Death Eater stepped forth. The haughty featured Death Eater's shoulder-length pale blond hair is pulled back into a short ponytail. Nowhere near as tall as his cousin, Corban Yaxley, Darith Yaxley did not have the same imposing, fierce aura that his cousin had, had. "I would be honored, Dark Lord," Darith said in awe. "To take your dark mark upon my most unworthy flesh."

Voldemort nodded his head in approval to the full statement. "Very well, come forth," Voldemort beckoned them. And so, they did as the ritual lasted for some time until at last the last of the Death Eaters are marked. The newly marked Death Eater's swayed on their two feet but held an immense satisfied look in their eyes.

"Now let us go and feast!" Voldemort cried out as the Death Eaters cheered and began to depart especially the Carrow siblings as they would have to hurry and attempt to salvage Amycus's fingers before it was too late.

As they were leaving, Voldemort says, "Pyrites you and Wilkes may sit at my right and left side tonight at the head of the banquet table. Go forth and escort Wilkes."

"Yes, Dark Lord," Pyrites flashed a sparkling grin, before leading Wilkes through the manor.

"A word, Lestrange," Voldemort said as the tall, broad-shouldered man halted before.

The dark-haired man with somewhat gaunt features turns and bows his head. "Yes, Milord?" Rodolphus Lestrange passively answered rather unlike himself.

"You mean to mourn the loss of your brother, Lestrange?"

"Indeed, Dark Lord, if that is permitted. Rabastan and I are the last of the Lestrange's."

Voldemort wasn't able to hide his lips curling into a sneer at seeing the anguish of loss that not even Lestrange couldn't fully hide. A lesser emotion, unneeded by one such as himself. But those weaker always held on to such sentimental, weak emotions.

"Then we shall ensure that your line continues, Lestrange," Voldemort said as if in passing causing Rodolphus to abruptly stiffen.

"Then it shall be as Dark Lord, desires," Rodolphus coolly replied, all the while hiding his fists in his robes as his fingers dig hard enough into the soft flesh of his palm to break the skin, and draw blood.

Voldemort casually brushes past him and departs leaving Lestrangebehind alone in the great hall. Rodolphus stands there for some time, before finally unclenching his fist. His nails are covered in his own blood, while his palms fiercely sting and bleed from painful crescent-like wounds. Enough was enough, he had work to do.

Taking a deep breath, Lestrange quickly seals his wounds, before composing his features. Satisfied that nothing would be further revealed to any of the other Death Eater's, he strides out to the ongoing festivities in the banquet hall. He had a role to play to perfection.