Erin opened her eyelids a crack. Bright, hot sunlight blazed down at her, making her eyes smart and water, and she closed them again. She swallowed painfully—her mouth and throat were dry and sore. Her entire body was stiff and aching, and she could feel a lump throbbing on the side of her head.
After a few minutes, she tried opening her eyes again and found the light to be slightly more bearable. She looked around dazedly.
She seemed to be sitting on the ground with her back against a tree. Her arms were behind her, around the tree’s trunk, and she could feel something hard and tight binding her wrists together. It didn’t budge when she tried pulling her hands free. The tree she was tied to seemed to be on the edge of a stretch of forest running parallel to a cliff. Between the forest and the cliff edge was a narrow, grassy area, and beyond the cliff she could see the blue glimmer of a lake.
But her attention was quickly drawn from the scenery to the activity going on in front of where she sat. Around fifty or sixty of the grey-brown creatures that had attacked them in the village were grouped together on the grassy strip of land just beyond the trees. They had formed a campsite with several fires blazing in shallow pits. Most of the group were seated around them, roasting chunks of meat on sticks. The partially butchered carcasses of two large, four-legged animals were lying on the ground in between the fires and a few of the brownish creatures were still carving off pieces of flesh. But a smaller group of seven or eight of them were standing not far from where Erin was. They were having a heated discussion.
“You woke up just in time,” said a quiet voice.
Erin jumped and looked around. To her left and slightly behind her sat Arturyn, bound, like she was, to the trunk of a tree. He looked much the worse for wear. His clothes were dirty and torn, and there were bruises on his face and arms and a jagged cut on one cheek.
“What do you mean?” Erin asked, bewildered and frightened. “Just in time for what?”
“Just in time to watch them take out some aggression on me. I killed and injured quite a few of their comrades, you see, and they want revenge.” He nodded toward the group standing in front of them. “They’re just arguing about the best method to use.”
She stared at him. “You mean they’re going to…to kill you?”
“Oh, no. Not kill me,” Arturyn said with a grim smile. “Not yet. Just beating and whipping for now, it sounds like. Not the most refined forms of torture, but some of the more violent and bloody ones. Mataiths enjoy the sight of blood.”
So these were the Mataiths. It was obvious why Arturyn had been keen to avoid them.
Erin felt sick. “So you speak their language? Could you try to talk them out of it or something?”
“I can understand it, yes, but not speak it. You and I wouldn’t be physically capable of even producing half of those sounds, let alone stringing them all together like that. It’s completely unlike English or Silmarith.” Arturyn shook his head. “And it would be useless to try to reason with them, even if I could make them understand me. It’s not in their nature to understand reason or mercy—only domination and bloodlust.”
Erin looked back at the Mataiths. There was a kind of hopeless resignation in Arturyn’s voice as he talked about them that frightened her even more than their vicious appearance. It gave her the distinct impression that he didn’t see any way for them to get themselves out of their current situation.
The group of Mataiths standing in front of them had stopped arguing. One of them seemed to be giving directions to the others. He was taller, bulkier, and meaner-looking than the rest and seemed to be in charge. After he had finished speaking, one of the others turned and hurried back toward the main group. The rest of them arranged themselves around Arturyn, looking down at him with a kind of cruel eagerness on their faces.
Arturyn glanced at Erin. “Don’t watch,” he said in a low voice.
The Mataith who had been giving orders to the others stepped forward, growled something incomprehensible at Arturyn, and then hit him hard across the face.
Erin let out a small gasp, but Arturyn made no sound. He was gazing down at the ground, his expression rather vague, as though he were trying to mentally withdraw himself from what was about to happen.
The Mataith snarled and hit Arturyn again. Erin could see where his talon-like fingers dug into the skin, leaving red streaks where they had passed. Then he reached around behind the tree Arturyn was tied to. Erin couldn’t see what he was doing, but a moment later, he took hold of Arturyn’s arm and jerked him roughly to his feet. Another Mataith took hold of his other arm, and they pulled him forward so that the Mataiths grouped around the fires had a clear view of him. Most of them turned away from their food, jeering and calling out what sounded like taunts and insults.
The Mataith who had left the smaller group was coming back carrying several long, thin rods. They had what looked like bits of metal fastened to them at irregular intervals, and they were all stained a dark reddish brown. He handed them around to several of the Mataiths near Arturyn, keeping one himself.
The two Mataiths holding Arturyn let go, shoving him forward so that he fell face first onto the ground. Those with rods moved closer to him, while the others backed away.
The noise coming from the onlookers rose as the Mataith who had hit Arturyn stepped forward. He shouted something and then raised the rod he was holding high into the air. He brought it down swiftly with a loud cracking sound that brought roars of approval from the other Mataiths and a small, unheard sob from Erin.
----------------------------------------
“Arturyn?”
There was no response.
“Arturyn?” Erin tried again. “Can you hear me?”
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
She watched him closely. He had been unconscious for several hours, but just now she thought she had seen him stir.
“Arturyn?”
His head moved a little, and he made a faint noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper. Slowly, he opened his right eye and looked blearily at Erin. He could only open that eye because of the gash running down his face over his left eye. Erin couldn’t tell if the eye itself had been cut or not, but either way there was enough dried blood over it that it was sealed completely shut.
He looked at Erin for a moment or two, his gaze slowly coming into focus. Then he said something in a very faint whisper, his lips barely moving.
“What?” Erin leaned as close to him as she could with her arms still fastened around the tree behind her.
“I…I’m…sorry,” he whispered, a little louder than before.
“Sorry? For what?”
“For…getting you…into this mess….” Arturyn’s speech was uneven, and he looked close to passing out again, but his voice grew somewhat stronger as he went on. “I should have known…should have realized…when we saw the village was deserted…what it meant….” He shifted his head gingerly from being drooped onto his shoulder to resting against the tree trunk, wincing in pain as he did so. “I should never have led you into…into that trap….”
His voice faded away, and Erin looked at him with concern. His face—what she could see of it underneath the caked blood and dirt—was dead white, and his breathing was rapid and shallow. There were bruises and cuts all over his body, and she knew he had lost a lot of blood.
“It’s not your fault. You didn’t know what had happened to the people in the village, and you wanted to try to help them. You couldn’t have known those monsters would be there waiting for us.” Erin paused. “Where were they hiding? In the houses?”
Arturyn nodded slightly, the motion barely visible in the dimming light. The sun had already sunk out of sight behind the trees. “And there were a few in the fields…on the other side of the river.” His voice had grown slightly fainter, and his one good eye was closed again. “They like to set up ambushes…sometimes...after they’ve attacked…. Think it’s entertaining, I guess…to lure people in…trying to find out what happened…. Then they strike….”
“Pretty bad taste in entertainment, if you ask me.”
Erin looked over at the Mataith camp. After passing an hour or so tearing Arturyn to shreds, they had settled back around their fires. A few of them seemed to be holding some kind of wrestling matches, accompanied by shouts and laughter from the rest.
“So what…what did they do to the villagers?” she asked, not entirely wanting to know the answer.
Arturyn sighed heavily. “Some were killed, obviously…. Perhaps even all of them. But it’s also possible that some were captured and taken into Mataith territory as slaves. A few lucky ones may have even escaped. We can only hope.”
“And what do you think they’re going to do with us?”
She looked back at him. His right eye was open again, and he was watching the Mataiths.
“I think it’s very likely that they’ll kill me eventually. They could decide to take me as a slave, but I think I killed too many of their fellows for that. They want my blood.” He grimaced. “Though they’ll probably take it a little bit at a time, like they’ve already started doing. More painful for me that way. More enjoyable for them.” He fell silent, still watching the Mataiths.
There was a long silence.
“And...what about me?”
He hesitated a moment before answering. “Well, they might just kill you. But more likely….”
“What?”
Arturyn turned his one-eyed gaze back to her. His expression was compassionate but very grim. “Hope they kill you, Erin.”
She stared at him. “Well, that’s really encouraging.”
“I’m sorry.” Arturyn closed his eye and leaned his head against the tree again. “I’m afraid I don’t feel very encouraged right now.” He gave another sigh. “The one bit of consolation I can give you is that they won’t do anything to you until their…I can’t pronounce the word…their chief, I guess…is here. He’s out with another group. Looking for more villages to raid, probably. But they said earlier—when they were deciding what they wanted to do to me—that they didn’t expect him back for another day or two. He has to give his approval before they can kill me, and he’ll…well, let’s just say he gets first chance with you.”
Erin swallowed hard. She really didn’t like the sound of that. “There’s got to be some way for us to get away from them.”
Arturyn shook his head, his eyes still closed. “How? We’re tied up, vastly outnumbered, and completely helpless. Not to mention that neither of us is in very good physical condition at the moment. Even if we could get loose, there’s no way we could outrun them.”
“You used magic against them back in the village.”
“Yes, but since then, they’ve put fálas bonds on both of us, so we won’t be able to use any magic. The Mataiths are cruel and violent, but not stupid.”
Erin glared at him. He really wasn’t being very helpful. “Well, maybe someone else will find us and help us.”
Arturyn actually managed a weak chuckle. “It would take a small army to get past those Mataiths. And anyway, no one even knows we’re here.”
“My cousin could find us. I’m sure she’s figured out that I went through the cave by now and is looking for me.”
“And what do you expect her to do when she gets here? If she gets here. I would guess we’re at least ten miles from the cave entrance by now. It would take her days to track you this far.”
Erin was silent for a moment. “Wraith knows I’m here,” she said quietly, almost to herself.
“Your imaginary friend?”
“He’s not imaginary. I’m not sure if he’s my friend either, but he wanted me to do something here—to help him. I can’t do that if I’m dead or enslaved or...whatever.”
Arturyn had opened his eye again and was looking at her with a skeptical expression. “And you think he has the power to free you, even if he wanted to?”
“Yes, for all I know, he does,” Erin snapped.
She felt irritated and a little betrayed. The situation was bad enough without Arturyn having to be so pessimistic. Maybe it was a result of the thrashing the Mataiths had given him. She remembered her father telling her once that torture affected people’s minds as much as their bodies, making them feel defeated and hopeless. But knowing that, even seeing his torn and bloody skin and imagining the pain he was suffering, couldn’t keep her from being angry at him for giving up so easily.
Turning away from Arturyn, Erin pulled her right leg up as close to her body as she could and rested her head on her knee. It wasn’t really comfortable—she couldn’t be comfortable with her arms trussed around the tree like they were. But the flexibility she had acquired from years of ballet made it bearable.
She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on thinking of a way to escape, but she was tired, and her head still ached dully where she had been knocked out. After a few minutes, she gave and allowed herself to doze, jerking up every now and then when the Mataiths gave a particularly loud shout of admiration for the wrestling pairs.