The morning came fast after the pair fell asleep. The sun creating a glow over the camp, the dew sparkled on everything around them. Azareth was packing up the saddles and getting the horses ready for travel. Jurah was slowly starting to move about the camp. He was stiff and his side was still sore, but he felt like he was going to be okay to ride. Azareth tossed her saddle up onto Stormlight and quickly tied it up. She turned to look at Jurah, she saw he was trying to lift his saddle onto Foxtail.
“Whoa, no,” Azareth said, as she grabbed Jurah’s hand. “Let me, okay?”
“But-”
“Jurah, if you rip your stitches, we will have to stop and do it all over again. You’ll reverse all the healing you’ve done.”
“Alright,” Jurah said. He watched as Azareth quickly got the saddle ready for him. When she was done, she went back to Stormlight. She finished getting her own saddle ready.
“Do you need a leg up?” Azareth asked Jurah. He looked at her embarrassed and shook his head, he hesitated for a moment. Azareth watched as he struggled to pull himself on Foxtail. Jurah grimaced as he threw his left leg over Foxtail into the stirrup. He lifted his shirt slightly and noticed the tiniest bit of blood seeping through the bandage. Azareth rode up next to him and saw him drop his shirt.
“You okay?” Azareth asked him. He looked to his right and smiled at her.
“Of course, never better,” Jurah said, as he trotted off. Azareth looked at him worried but followed after him.
The grasslands were starting to become more clear around them. The trees around the trail were thinning out with every passing minute. They were able to see a lot more around them. All the animals going on with their simple lives, being at peace with everything. Azareth was comfortable with the silence that had fallen upon them. She didn’t need to ask Jurah question after question today, she could sense he knew what was right. Azareth looked further ahead down the road and saw something odd. A large tree was laying across the road and it forced them to stop. Jurah slowly lowered himself to the muddy ground. He wandered over to the tree, beginning to scan it and investigate.
“Jurah, if you try to lift that-”
“Azareth please,” Jurah cut her off. “Even if I wasn’t injured there’s no way I could lift this tree by myself.”
“Okay.”
“Something isn’t right.” Azareth got off of Stormlight and walked over to the tree. She stopped and looked around them, taking everything she could see. It was indescribably quiet. Something wasn’t right about what was happening. The two of them could sense it, the horses were stepping nervously.
“Jurah, I think we should move on.”
“I don’t think the horses can jump this, we’re going to have to go around it.”
“Alright, please, let’s go.” Jurah looked back at Azareth and could see the terror in her eyes. He nodded, then saw something out of the corner of his eye. He looked and walked over to the end of the tree.
“Azareth, get on Stormlight now,” he said. Azareth began to walk back to her horse but was stopped when she saw an arrow pointing at her. “This tree was cut, it’s a trap.”
“Jurah,” Azareth said. Jurah turned and saw that a large group of men had surrounded them. The men moved in closer grabbing the reins of both horses, but not lowering their weapons.
“Look what we have here,” an older man spoke. He had long black hair down his back and an eye patch over his left eye. He wore ragged clothes that looked to be from all over the world. “Two little elves wandering ever so far from home.”
“Please, sir, we don’t want any trouble,” Azareth said, holding up her hands. The old man walked closer to her and got right in her face. She could clearly see scars protruding from under the eyepatch, giving her a sense he lost it not long ago.
“You’re a pretty one, aren’t ya?” he said. He ran his dirt-stained fingers along Azareth’s jawline and through her hair.
“Don’t touch her!” Jurah spat trying to get to Azareth. Two men grabbed his arms and held him back.
“Alright, now what to do with the two of you,” the old man said, leaning away from Azareth’s face. “Artibain.”
“Yes, father?” A young man asked. He stepped forward and Azareth looked over at him. He looked like his father, but his hair was short and shaggy around his ears. He had both his eyes and they looked dark from where she stood. He was wearing dark brown pants tucked into his black boots. He wore a green shirt under a big heavy-looking black leather coat.
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“Tie them up, we’ll take them with us. I have a good idea who is going to want to see them.”
“Yes, father,” Artibain said. He walked over to Azareth.
“Please, don’t do this, we are just passing through,” Azareth said. Artibain grabbed her hands and began to tie them together in front of her.
“Azareth don’t,” Jurah said behind them. “You’re human, aren’t you?”
“Good eye there, mate,” Artibain said. He dropped Azareth’s hands and walked over to Jurah. The two men held his arms in front of him. Jurah struggled to get free, but he was still weak from his injury. After they were both tied, the group of men began to lead them off the trail and into the woods. They led the horses along with them, Azareth thought that they’d kill them and keep the horses so no one could track them.
“Jurah, I’m afraid I can’t see us getting out of this,” Azareth whispered. Jurah was walking next to her and he looked around them, counting at least twenty men.
“I’m worried you might be right but don’t fret. I’ll figure something out,” Jurah told her as they were pushed forward.
The night was setting in and it was getting harder to see where they were walking. They had been led north, with no idea where they were going, but it couldn’t have been good. The terrain was rough, they weren’t on any trail. Tripping over tree roots, low bushes and having to watch for animals. No room to spread out, everyone was walking tight together and the horses had to be led carefully through the underbrush. The men leading the group stopped in a small clearing. Azareth was pushed to the ground, Jurah was thrown down next to her.
“We will stay here for the night,” the old man said. Azareth was still trying to learn his name. Jurah was silent as the two of them sat up and looked around the clearing. The group of men started to set up a small camp. Each of them moving silently around, careful not to make a sound. A few men set up a couple of tents, another was starting a fire. Artibain and his father were standing off to the edge of the camp, whispering to each other. Jurah sighed next to Azareth, she turned to see he was trying to hold his injured side.
“Jurah?” she asked. Jurah lightly chuckled looking over at her. She was looking him up and down, her eyes full of concern.
“You were right, should’ve taken it easy,” he said. Jurah moved his hand and Azareth looked down, she saw blood was seeping through his shirt.
“Oh my god, Jurah.” Everyone turned and looked to see what was going on with the prisoners. Artibain stepped forward into the light of the fire and cocked his head to the side.
“You, be quiet,” Artibain said. Azareth turned to look at him scared.
“Please, I beg you, he’s wounded and bleeding. If you help him, I’ll do whatever you want.” The men smirked and laughed at her words. Artibain walked over to where they say, grabbing a log from the fire on his way. Azareth froze when she realized what he was going to do.
“No, wait that’s-”
“Shut up!” Artibain said. Azareth froze. Artibain knelt next to Jurah and they locked eyes. “You said you wanted our help, so that’s what he’s getting.” Artibain lifted Jurah’s shirt as a man snuck up from behind and grabbed Jurah’s arms. Artibain pulled the bandage off of Jurah’s side.
“I’m not going to lie, this won’t be pleasant,” he said. He pressed the smouldering log to Jurah’s ribs. Jurah released a scream of pain as he tried to pull away from the smoking log.
“Stop it. Please stop, you’re killing him,” Azareth said. Artibain stopped after a minute and threw the log away. Jurah was panting hard and looked as if he was going to faint.
“You wanted my help,” Artibain said, standing up and leaving them to sit there. All the men walked off and left Jurah and Azareth alone.
“Jurah, I am so sorry,” Azareth said. She scooted closer to Jurah, he was leaning back against a tree and breathing rapidly. “I didn’t mean for that to happen, I just wanted them to stop the bleeding.”
“Ha, well, he did,” Jurah said weakly. He looked over at her and saw a tear rolling down her cheek in the glow of the fire. “Hey, I’m alright, I’ll be alright.” He whipped the tear off her cheek as best he could with his hands still tied.
“How are we going to get out of this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where do you think they’re taking us?”
“We’ve been heading north this whole time, I sense they are leading us to Worsak.”
“To the orcs?”
“Orcs will do anything to start another war, including kidnapping two elves.”
“But I’m not-”
“Shh.” Jurah cut her off. “They can’t know. If they find out, I don’t know what they would do to you.”
“I won’t say anything, but Jurah we need to get out of this.”
“And we will.”
It was the middle of the night, the air was cold and damp. The group of men had all climbed into their tents and were sleeping now. Azareth was laying on the ground too afraid to sleep. Jurah had finally passed out due to the pain in his side. Azareth, though, didn't want to sleep in case something went wrong in the night. All she wanted to do was to get them away from here. She just didn’t know-how. Tired of being on the ground, she struggled to sit up. When she was sitting up, she saw Artibain was sitting by the fire watching them. She narrowed her eyes at him and watched as he scuffed at her. He stood up from his seat and wandered away from the clearing. She wanted to get up and go after him, in hopes to catch him off guard. As she began to pull at the ropes around her wrist, she could hear footsteps coming back into camp.
“Trying to make a break for it?” A deep voice asked from behind her. The man walked around and knelt in front of her. It was Artibain’s father.
“Why do you need us?”
“We don’t need you, we are simply delivering you to someone who does.”
“Then I suppose there’s no harm in telling me your name.”
“You want to know my name sweetheart? Dorzic Rotapit, at your service,” Dorzic said. “My son thinks maybe we’ve gone too far kidnapping you, but I think he’s just smitten by your pretty face.” Dorzic reached up and grabbed Azareth’s cheek. She pulled away from his hand, he laughed at her.
“Remember, you still owe my son. For helping your lover.”
“He’s not my lover.”
“Don’t care. Now if you try and get out of those ropes, it’ll be just you that we’re taking to Mount Aork.” Dorzic stood up, leaving Azareth sitting there mortified. Was this how they were going to die?