They made another two short stops during the afternoon, and when they finally stopped for the third time, by nightfall, Snow’s back and behind ached so much that it was all he could do not to walk funny once the monster set him back on firm ground. Still he had thoroughly enjoyed his day, and even though the landscape had been pretty much the same the entire time, he couldn’t help feeling that there was still a lot he hadn’t seen.
The man he had learned was called HawkEye quickly assembled a few dry branches and started a fire. The other one, a large man with wide, broad shoulders and thick, strong arms called BigMountain, unpacked most of their luggage and started to go through their provisions, selecting what was to be their evening meal. They both went about their tasks mostly in silence, like a well-coordinated team. And Snow couldn’t help notice that their names sounded as common as his own, none of those strange words with no meaning.
MenTar happily took care of their horses, checking their hooves and making sure they had plenty of fresh grass to chew on. Watching him pat his own brown horse, Snow wished he could join him. In his mind horses had gone from frightening, tall creatures, to amazing, fascinating ones. But the dark monster sitting beside him, discussing what looked like a map with ZenTar, was like an invisible chain. After he’d gotten himself all wet during lunch break he’d been crowding him even more than before, silently forbidding him to wander around. And then, of course, was his aching body that, contrary to his mind, wanted nothing more than to stay still, preferably lying down, and simply don’t move for as long as possible.
Their evening meal was much lighter and simpler than their midday meal. There was bread, amazingly crunchy on the outside and fluffy as a cloud on the inside, some of the delicious cheese he’d tasted back at the Fortress, some dried things he’d never seen in his life, and fresh apples like the one the monster had given him.
Since Snow had practically missed the last meal he was positively starving, and he couldn’t help feel relieved when he was able to eat his fill and then some. Even when all he had had to eat had been moldy, hard bread, he had never felt so sick to his stomach like before, during their last meal. In his mind he kept reminding himself that people in his position could not afford to be sick to the point they became unable to eat. He’d seen that happen more than once, and what would normally follow was certain death.
They didn’t linger for longer after eating, quickly spreading their blankets around the fire and readying themselves to sleep. All except BigMountain who, according to what he’d heard the others decide, would stay awake and stand watch.
“Your bed is there,” MenTar told him with a wide smile on his face, pointing to the other side of the fire where a couple of blankets had already been unfolded. “It will probably feel a bit hard in the beginning, but you will eventually get used to it,” he added with a resigned expression and Snow nodded, making his way to the place he’d been shown.
He knew he wasn’t going the find his new bed hard. He’d slept in much harder places before. At least there was a patch of grass beneath his blanket, and dirt was never as hard or cold as stone. Not to mention that he now actually had blankets! One to spread beneath him and another to cover himself with. And, if he got cold, there was always the warm cloak he still wore.
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Finding his bed pleasantly comfortable, Snow took off his boots, untied his cloak and unstrapped the belt that, over his long tunic, kept his large pants from sliding down his thin legs.
He’d already settled down, ready to sleep, when he noticed the blue eyes glowing amongst the darkness. It was so dark now that it was even harder to detect his presence, Snow thought with a shiver, especially because the monster was sitting right there, close enough to reach him, his back against a large rock.
Quickly lying down, Snow covered himself all the way up to his ears, his heart beating too fast.
Even though he’d been trying his best to rationalize it, even though he’d been trying his best to get used to it, that monster … no, that man was truly frightening, in a strange way he couldn’t quite explain. And he’d met a lot of frightening, cruel people during his short life. People that enjoyed the pain of others. People that felt pleasure in torture. He could still see the gleam that took over their eyes, their distorted smiles as they took their time coming up with all kinds of ways to make him bleed. And yet none of them had scared him as much as Nox ZaiWin did. Which was ridiculous, he knew.
Sure, the monster always treated him harshly and coldly, and he had made it as clear as daylight that he wanted to get rid of him, which probably meant that he wanted him dead. But, besides harsh words and deadly threats, he’d never lifted a hand to hurt him, quite the contrary. He had seen to it that his wounds were tended, and that he was fed and clothed. He had even defended him against his own men. And yet …
Maybe it was all that darkness, Snow considered, pulling his knees to his chest. He couldn’t say how or why he knew it to be so, but there was something fundamentally wrong with it. Sure his strength was scary, intimidating to say the least, but even as he reviewed the amazing things he’d seen the monster do, he knew that it wasn’t what he could do that was scary. It was something else. Something deeper. Something that didn’t allow him to see the man he knew lived inside all that darkness.
As time slowly went by Snow begun to notice another, increasing, annoying problem.
He couldn’t sleep! Even though he was comfortably warm and dry, he just couldn’t relax.
Now that the camp was completely silent, there were too many strange sounds all around him, sounds that seemed to grow louder by the second. The sound of the wind brushing through the leaves of the few trees surrounding them. The cracking of dry branches. The sound of the occasional bird. The calling of a lost wild animal. The crackling of the flames. The sound of one of the others snoring. And so many other soft noises he couldn’t identify.
Since he’d been mostly kept in isolation, even though he’d been made to sleep naked over cold stone floors more than once, he’d always been alone during his resting hours. And alone meant silence. A kind of agonizing silence that had always left him wondering if the world had somehow come to an end, beyond the walls incarcerating him; if he’d been left there, alone and forgotten, to slowly rot away.
Now he found himself in exact opposite situation, he thought with a sigh, closing his eyes, trying to sleep. But the moment he closed his eyes the sounds only grew even louder, keeping him wide awake.