Legon walked up to his mother and hugged her and his father went to Sasha. She loved getting bear hugs from her father. She felt safe and secure, and she got the feeling like nothing bad could ever happen. Then he let go and the feeling left. The goodbyes were short; they had to be. They needed to meet Kovos, needed to get out of town before they could be followed. She got on Murray and looked at her home and parents for what was probably the last time. As if Phantom and Murray knew what was going on, the two started to carry them away from the house, their home, and everything they had ever known.
* * * * *
Kovos had known this was going to happen. He knew that as soon as they got home this new-found intellect was going to leave Keither. The boy had gone into panic mode about two seconds after the door closed. Thankfully, his parents hadn’t lost their heads by the time they got home. Brack had the horses saddled and Margaret was finishing packing their belongings. Kovos wasted no time in making a beeline for his room and grabbing his sword. “I am such a moron for not having it with me,” he thought. He reached under a loose floorboard and pulled out the brass knuckles he had made about three years ago. Boy, had they been useful.
If they got a good head start on the soldiers, there was a good chance of getting away for now. There might be wanted signs on city bulletins eventually, but it was unlikely. Their encounter with the men had been short, and it was unlikely they would remember enough to make a good illustration. Even then it was improbable that the empire would do that much. Wanted posters meant attention, and even if posters went up, the empire was a large place to hide in and its agents were corrupt. A small amount of coin could buy their way anywhere. Of course they would need money for that. At any rate, he didn’t have time to figure that out now. Time was running out.
Keither needed to get his head on and get ready to go. There was a slam in the room next to him. Keither had probably tried to lock himself in his room. Kovos didn’t have the patience for this, but convincing Keither was going to take some time. He started to the boy’s room. As he left his room and turned, he saw his mother looking put out and pounding on Keither’s door.
He gently moved her aside and placed his mouth close to the door, speaking in a soft voice. “Keither it’s me. Are you there? I know you’ve had a hard day.”
“Yeah, I’m here, and no, I won’t open the door!” barked the voice inside.
“Ok. I’m not going to ask you to open the door, but I want to talk to you, ok? Where are you?”
“On my bed, and I don’t want to tal…” Keither started but was stopped by the sound of splintering wood and his mother’s yelp.
Kovos walked through the devastated door and looked down imperiously at the boy on the bed. He had been pampering the little snot his whole life, and he was done. It was time to be a man.
He felt the muscles in his face contorting and he knew that he looked terrifying. “Do you remember what happened to Moleth?” he roared.
He thought he saw Keither nod but wasn’t sure. “Do you want your throat slit?” There was a definite shake this time. “Then get your stuff together. We’re leaving. Now! If you don’t have the will to live I can’t make you, but so help me I will spare our parents the displeasure of having one of their own kids slaughtered before their eyes, you get me?”
Keither was starting to resemble a puppet with its head bobbling around. He was in line now and that was all that mattered. As for the door, well, no one would be needing the room anytime soon, and better to break down a door and have Keither alive than have the royal guard break down the door and have him dead.
He tried to push emotion out as he walked downstairs in to the overly pink living room. He noticed a lace cloth in the middle of the table. There were birds stitched on it. He paused. He had never noticed that before. “Why do you notice odd things like that when you’re in a stressful situation?” he asked himself. “Because you never know when you may see it again,” said a voice in his head.
He walked out the back door. It was time to go. There were two horses in the alleyway that Brack was finishing up.
Emma. He needed to see her, needed to hold her.
“No!” he thought. Time was blurry now. He didn’t seem to notice the farewells and the tears, didn’t notice himself get on his horse. The only thing that floated though his mind was Emma and the knowledge that he would never see her again.
* * * * *
Arkin wondered why things took so long when he was in a hurry. He paused and repeated a calming script in his mind, controlled his breath, and felt emotion ebb away. He closed his eyes and repeated the script again. As he calmed, clarity began to restore itself in his battered consciousness. Not too much longer. Just the climb back down and then they could proceed on with the mission.
* * * * *
Legon was vaguely aware that he was freezing cold, but his body and mind didn’t seem to be talking with each other. Kovos and Keither were approaching. He could see them coming along the archery field. Phantom snorted and he patted his neck. Legon knew the horses could sense the panic in their riders, but he knew they would keep their cool. Well, at least Phantom would. He’d taken him hunting many times and nothing seemed to bother him. Murray, on the hand, wasn’t used to any extreme riding and might be a problem.
Kovos and Keither were near to them now. “Are you ready?” Legon asked.
Kovos patted the sword on his belt. “Yeah.”
Legon pointed to the trees. “Ok, we’ll travel along the edge of the woods until we’re out of sight and ear shot. Then we need to ride at least until tomorrow night to make sure we get as much space between us and those guards as possible.”
“How will we know which path to take? It’s dark as hell out here.”
Sasha spoke. “Horses have better eyes than people. They can see fine, don’t worry.” She turned Murray and began riding toward the forest. The other three followed close behind.
As hoped, the horses were able to make it through the dark woods without incident, but it was slow going. They had to curve out away from the where the soldiers were camped out. By the time they made it back to the road there were rays of sun coming over the distant mountains.
They kept the horses going at a pretty good speed after that without tiring them out. They needed to open a gap between them and the town. As the sun got brighter, Legon felt himself getting hungry, but he ignored the feeling. One day without food wouldn’t hurt him. They could only stop to let the horses drink, and even then it would have to be fast. There was a silence over them as they went. No one wanted to say anything. There was too much tension in the air and with every word came the chance of emotional upheaval from the previous day and night.
Legon’s face was starting to burn as the sun peaked around noon. Sweat rolled down his brow, causing the dust in the air to stick to him and cover his face in grit. As the sun started its descent it began to burn his neck. He lifted his shirt collar a bit.
The air was still and quiet except for the sound of hooves clopping on the ground. The rhythm was hypnotizing. His mind started to get fuzzy. His vision slipped in and out of focus. He started to become aware of all the sounds in the woods, sounds that he couldn’t normally hear on horseback—the sound of the breeze in the tree tops, the sound of a bug crawling on a log. All the sounds must have been from yards away. “This is the Elven side,” he thought. The soft whoosh of a bird taking flight, the creak of wood …Ah, he loved that sound, the creak only a bow could make as it was strung.
He snapped back to awareness in an instant, tightening his reins, bringing Phantom to an abrupt halt.
“Legon, what is it?” Sasha started, but was interrupted by a sound that all could hear—the sound of hooves that were very close. Sensing danger, everyone spurred their horses forward. Out of the trees about fifteen yards away came three men with bows drawn on horses wearing leather armor emblazoned with the queen’s crest—all unfamiliar faces, all with their bows pointed at Kovos and Lego
n. Legon was aware of two more horsemen with bows behind them. All had the satisfied smile of knowing they had surrounded their prey.
Chapter Nine
The Lesson
“What drives us to act? What is it that makes us capable of the great and the horrible? It is the events in our lives and how we choose to react to them. How we see the event, how we respond to it, these are the things that define us.”
- Excerpts from The Diary of the Adopted Sister
The men wore a look of triumph tempered with wariness on their faces. It was clear that they weren’t sure exactly who or what they were dealing with. They looked the four fugitives over, sizing them up, figuring out who would be the greatest threat. Sasha would instantly be ruled out. She would be easy to overpower. Keither was fat and young and looked terrified, so no problem there. Kovos and Legon were the problem. Both men were more confident and didn’t back down from the glances they got. Both had been in so many fights that they could be beaten to a pulp and not be bothered. In truth, if the soldiers were to hurt someone to make a point it wouldn’t be Legon or Kovos. Breaking the strongest of a group to intimidate the rest usually worked, but doing that didn’t make a lick of difference to the next strongest guy. However, hurt one of the weak ones and the strong would comply just to spare the others pain.
“Why don’t you join us in our camp?” one of the men said, pointing with his bow up the road just a bit.
They went without a word, Sasha and Keither intently staring at their hands. This was a good strategy for Sasha. If a woman appeared submissive and scared the men would be less likely to harass her. After all, that’s how people like this thought women should be. But Keither needed to at least look like he had a backbone or the men would teach him a thing or two.
They entered a small clearing off to the right of the road. There were three tents set up and a smoldering fire in a pit. They maneuvered the horses to the left side of the camp, leaving plenty of room for more tents when the other guards arrived. Legon figured it would take about a day for a messenger to reach the town, so if they played their cards right they could escape before the other five showed up. Two on four didn’t suit Legon, but it was better than two on ten.
“Get off your horses, throw down your weapons and stand in a line,” a guard said. They dismounted and placed their stuff on the ground before them, Sasha trembling and Keither shaking. Legon knew the look Kovos was wearing, the “I’m going to do some damage” look that he always got before a big fight. Kovos was a nice guy, but cross the line with him and, well, Legon just hoped his friend would keep it under control until the right time. He didn’t blame him. His own feeling of fear was slipping away and his body coursed with the energy that came with losing himself, letting go, and letting his fists or maybe that big cleaver do the talking. But not now.
One of the men pointed at Sasha and threw her some ropes. “You tie them up, starting with those two. Tie them to that tree.”
No surprise there; have the least threatening take care of the others so they only had to take care of her.
Sasha came up to Legon, who turned his back and allowed her to bind him. Her hands were damp with sweat and cold, her fingers barely able to form the knots. Legon knelt down next to the tree, never taking his eyes off the men. He wanted to aggravate them, wanted them to go for him. Soon Kovos was next to him and Keither’s hands were bound, but not to the tree.
“Good work, pretty. Now turn around and place your hands behind you. Do anything dumb and we’ll see if your insides are as nice as your outside, got it?” She nodded and turned. The man came up behind her and wrapped the rope tightly around her wrists. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She turned her head away and her breath caught when he grabbed her backside. She quickly walked to Legon and knelt down by him, almost like she was trying to hide behind him. He had expected them to grab Sasha. Soldiers were always grabbing women in town. It made him mad, but all in all it could have been worse.
“Our commander should be back before nightfall, so you four just sit tight,” he said and started to leave, but then turned back around. “Oh, I almost forgot… gag.”
At the command, one of the men came up to them and placed a large wad of stained and dirty rag in each of their mouths and tied it in. The rags had probably been used to wipe sweat from the soldiers’ faces and necks. There was a taste of salt, dirt, and several other things Legon didn’t want to think about. Keither gagged a bit. This was not good. If their commander was supposed to be back tonight then that meant they would have to try to escape from ten royal guards, not just four, and that this whole thing was a trap. A bead of sweat ran the length of his back, and he was feeling weak from the lack of sleep and food.
The sun was getting lower in the sky and the light coming thought the treetops was getting fainter. Soon they could hear the sound of hooves clopping in the distance and the soldiers arose, looking to see the new visitors. Five more soldiers rode into camp—the same five from town. The commander looked smug.
“Thought you could outsmart us, did you?” he jeered. They said nothing.
The men were off their horses and walking to them. The one that had killed Moleth looked down, surveying them. He stopped when he saw Keither. “Well looky here, if it isn’t the tough one that tried to best me in town.”
The commander looked at Keither, who was still hunched over and shaking. “I think they may need a lesson on how to treat authority.”
Kovos attempted to say something through his gag. One of the men kicked him hard in the ribs.
The men chuckled and the leader said, “There’s no teaching this one, at least not in the field. We can tutor him back in Bailaya.” They were headed to the capital, then. This was not good at all.
The man continued, pointing at Legon. “You won’t get this one either, but we may be able to teach the fat one,” he said, reaching down and pulling off Keither’s gag.
The one that killed Moleth laughed. “Permission to have some fun, sir,” he said in a dark tone. The commander waved his hand and stepped back.
The man pulled Keither into the center of the camp by his shirt, the whole time the boy mumbling incoherently. The man turned and hit Keither across the mouth to cheers from the other men and a groan from the boy. Keither hit the ground and was pulled back up to be hit again, this time cutting his lip. Legon felt Sasha bury her head in the back of his shoulder. She hated violence. Two of the men walked out and held Keither up, allowing their friend to have an unmoving target. With every blow Keither tried to yell, but with the blood in his mouth it was getting harder. The other two men were starting to join in now, hitting him in the kidneys and on his sides. The beating seemed to take a long time, and in the end Keither lost consciousness. The men dropped him to the ground and gave him a few kicks that Legon suspected broke his ribs.
The sun seemed like it was taking forever to set. The commander walked forward to address them. “Now we have a long journey ahead of us, and I hope this shows you what happens if you don’t do what you are told. We will leave bright and early in the morning, but don’t worry. If you need anything, two men will always be awake to help you,” he said with a gracious smile.
He started to turn and stopped at a look from one of his men. He turned back around, knelt down in front of Sasha, and said in low but carrying tone, “My men and I spend a lot of time on the road, and we don’t get the luxuries that most do. That means that they’re going to need something to do to keep them occupied. I hope you can sleep well in the saddle, because I can guarantee you won’t be sleeping at night.” Sasha’s eyes jerked up.
He laughed and his men joined in, starting to make cat calls at Sasha. He reached forward, pulled off the gag, and grabbed Sasha’s hair, pulling her up bodily from the ground. She tried to pull away. “Good. I like it when they have some fight. Don’t worry, honey, you get me first. I’ll be real gentle,” he said, pulling her screaming along.
Legon lurched forwar
d, yelling though his gag. The man turned and smiled. “Oh, do you like to watch? Ok, you can watch.” He threw Sasha to the ground in front of him. The man placed his knee on her back and cut the cords holding her. More cheers came from the men. “Give it to her, sir!” He rolled her over and she tried to hit him. His hand came across her face hard, causing her lip to bleed. He was on top of her then, pulling up her skirt, trying to part her legs. He hit her again. Her eyes were full of tears. She looked up at Legon, pleading for him to stop this, but he couldn’t. He felt the rope cutting deeper into his wrists. This wasn’t happening. Where was the Elven side now when he needed it? He’d gotten her legs apart and pinned her wrists above her head with one hand, smiling wickedly as he felt up her shirt with the other. His hand went down to his pants that were now covered in Sasha’s skirt. He was fumbling around, grunting, trying to hold her down. He pulled down his pants. There was a look of triumph on his face.
“Are you ready honey?”
She tried to beg. “No please, no please, please NO!” The commander laughed.
Legon heard a slight hiss and felt a breeze, saw a slight blur by his eyes and then heard a gurgled scream from the commander. An arrow shaft rose from where his neck met his body. Blood sprayed from the wound, peppering Sasha’s face scarlet. Before the man could get his hands up to the arrow Legon felt a second breeze and saw a figure leaping from the trees, long hair flowing in the air, two long blades in his hands. The ropes binding him were swiftly cut.
The soldiers were running for their swords, but their ambusher was on them. The soldiers had left their captives’ possessions nearby, and Kovos and Legon lunged for their weapons. Kovos’ hands wrapped tight around the handle of his sword. The look on his face was that of an insane man. Legon’s hand found the handle of the cleaver, the new one for splitting animals, the one he hadn’t gotten a chance to use. There was no one to stop the rage this time, no one at all.