chapter FIVE
The buzzing sound in his head soon became low, harsh voices as Jake slowly regained consciousness, his head aching terribly, body cramping and feeling nauseous. He was lying on his side, head resting in the dirt when he opened his eyes. As he attempted to shift his position to relieve some of the pain, he realized that his hands were bound behind his back with a coarse rope. He cautiously raised his head to see where he was. His movement did not go unnoticed.
"So...the boy lives. Luck is with you, Surt." A rough voice said. Jake looked in the direction of the voice. He could see a large man standing with the four men Jake recognized as the ones in the hollow. He was dressed in the similar clothing as the men he was with, except this one was wearing a dull metal breastplate over his shirt with a dark cloak hanging off his shoulders. He was tall and muscular, with long shaggy black hair and dark eyes staring out from under thick eyebrows. His face was lean and hard, with a long goatee hanging from his chin that was tied in different places with leather cords. He was looking at Jake as he spoke. "I told you that the Master wanted any strangers brought to him undamaged."
From behind him, Jake heard several crude jokes were directed at one called Surt. He twisted his head towards the sound and saw three other men standing a few feet behind him. One was glowering at him, clearly unhappy. Jake guessed he was the one they called Surt. He was shorter and stockier than the rest, his face wide with thin lips and a nose that looked like it had been broken multiple times. His dark eyes above the rough stubble of a beard were predatory as they glared angrily at Jake.
All of the men were dressed in the same dark leather outfits and all carried weapons. Most had unkempt hair, some with full beards, and looked as if they had not had a shower in a while. As Jake quietly studied them, he noticed that they all had a similar look in their eyes. There was something there, something slightly crazed and wild, as if they were wired up on some drug. He tried to push down his sudden fear, but knew there was clearly something not right with these men.
The leader walked over to Jake, appraising him as he approached. Jake could see that he also had the wild look in his dark eyes, but there was a coldness in them as well. The man stopped and squatted next to Jake. He held out his hand and Jake saw his phone with the earbuds dangling. "What is this thing, boy?" He said quietly.
"A phone." Jake said, voice catching in his throat. "You know…a phone?" The man, with those crazed cold eyes, just stared at Jake. After a moment, Jake realized that the man did not know what a phone was.
"I don't understand that name." The man turned the phone over in his hand, studying it, and then put it into a deep pocket in his cloak. "It doesn't matter; we have to move. The Master will know what to make of it."
He stood and casually kicked Jake in the stomach, nearly driving his breath away. "Get up, boy. We have a long way to go." Jake struggled to right himself, his stomach cramping and feeling as if he needed to throw up. "Don't make me tell you again. You will not like that, I assure you." The man warned darkly.
Jake was able to roll over onto his stomach and get his knees under him when the man reached out and grabbed Jake by his hair. Ignoring Jake's cries, he pulled, lifting Jake as he struggled to get his feet under him, feeling as if his scalp was going to come off his skull. Once Jake was standing, the man released his hair and spoke to the others.
"Surt, since you're the idiot that nearly killed him, you will make sure the boy keeps up. If he can't, you will be carrying him on your back." Hoots of laughter burst for the other men. "We have a long march ahead. Anyone that can't keep up is on his own. Let's go." With that, the man set off through the forest at a fast pace, the others following him.
"Move, boy!" Surt growled, kicking Jake hard. Jake staggered after the other men, his movement unsteady from his injuries and bound hands. Surt was right behind him, encouraging a faster pace with rough shoves and slaps to Jake's head. Fear kept Jake moving, striving to avoid more abuse from Surt.
After several minutes, they caught up with the rest of the group. Jake could hear the men betting on when Surt would have to carry him. They laughed at Jake, mocking him, poking and prodding him as he jogged to keep up. The leader would glance at Jake from time to time, but said nothing. Jake had no time to think of anything else but trying to keep up with the group.
They kept moving for almost an hour. Jake's throat and chest were burning from his exertions, his legs feeling watery. The fear of what would happen if he could not keep up kept him striving to put one foot in front of the other.
Eventually, even his fear could not overcome his lack of food and his injuries. Jake stumbled as he tried to pass over a fallen log, tumbling to the ground and could not get back up. A yank on his bonds, pulling his arms up until Jake was sure his shoulders would pop out of their sockets, lifted him to his feet. He took a step and went back down in a heap. A swift kick landed in his bruised ribs, sending new pain to match the throbbing ache of his head. He tried to get back up, but his strength failed him. Another kick in his ribs caused him to cry out in pain. Tears springing from his eyes, he cringed, waiting for more abuse.
"Enough, Surt." Jake heard the leader say, seeing his boots approach through his tear-blurred vision. "I told you he was supposed to be delivered undamaged. Thanks to you, that will not happen. Don't make it worse." He spoke shortly to the rest of the men. "Rest break." The men squatted down, breaking out waterskins and some sort of light brown bread.
The leader squatted down next to Jake and grabbed his hair again, pulling his head off the ground. He looked at Jake with those hard eyes. "The boy is spent. Give him food and water, Surt."
"I'm not a damned nursemaid, Matus. Feed him yourself." Surt said sullenly.
"Surt, you will feed and water him or I will bury you here and now." The leader growled, his gloved hand moving and resting on his swordhilt.
Surt glared at him, weighing defiance, but Matus just coldly stared back at him, waiting. Surt finally looked away. "All right, I'll feed him." He muttered. Laughter broke out from the rest of the men watching the confrontation.
Surt grabbed Jake by the shoulder and roughly pulled him into a sitting position. He took out some bread from his poach and tore off a piece. He jammed it at Jake's mouth and, when Jake opened his mouth to take a bite, he shoved it in, a cruel smile on his lips. Jake began to choke and tried to turn his head, but Surt reached out with his other hand and grabbed Jake by his jaw. Breathing rapidly through his nose, Jake tried to close his mouth against the invasion, but Surt pulled his mouth open and continued to shove the bread in. Sure that he was going to die, Jake began trashing against Surt's hold. Jake heard laughter from the others and Surt grinned in response. Jake, unable to escape, exhausted and battered, was sure that this was the end.
Suddenly, Surt's hand ripped away from Jake's face as Matus kicked him off of Jake. As Surt tried to get to his feet, Matus kicked him again. Surt rolled across the ground and came back to his feet. He reached for his sword, but Matus was quicker. He had his sword out and the point against Surt's throat in an instant.
His hard eyes glittered and his voice was ice-cold as he spoke. "I said feed him, not choke him. Do not make me tell you again, Surt. The Master will not care if I dispose of a worthless dog like you."
Surt glared back, but began to lick his lips. He slowly removed his hand from his sword. Matus stared at him for another moment, then sheathed his sword in a fluid motion and turned and walked back to the tree that he had been resting under. Surt, muttering darkly to himself and trying to ignore the catcalls and name-calling from the others, came back to Jake. He stared pure murder at Jake as he squatted in front of him, but simply held the bread out for Jake to eat.
Jake took as big a bite as he felt safe eating, trying to speed this along and get Surt away from him. The bread was stale, hard and without much flavor, but it was food. Jake finished the bread and Surt held up a waterskin. Jake opened his mouth and Surt poured water into his mouth. The water was warm with a leathery taste, but nothing tasted better to Jake. He gulped down as much of the water as he could while Surt poured. Too soon for Jake, the waterskin was taken away and Surt moved off to eat and rest.
Jake closed his eyes and tried to relax, the sensation having something in his stomach drowning out his pain momentarily. His mind, in spite of his pain and exhaustion, was racing. He had no idea why any of this was happening. He felt as if he had been dropped into some nightmare. All he wanted was to get away from these men and go home. The thought of home brought fresh tears which he quickly tried to stop. Tears had no impact of these men; if anything, Jake felt it would bring further cruelty.
"Time to move." Matus said, intruding on his thoughts and drawing a low groan from Jake. "Get him up, Surt."
Surt hauled Jake to his feet, where he stood swaying. Matus looked hard at Jake for a moment and said. "Looks like you will be carrying him, Surt." Surt gritted his teeth, but did not say anything. He grabbed Jake and threw him over his shoulder like sack of grain. The group resumed their fast pace and sped off through the forest.
In this position, Jake's lower abdomen was bouncing up and down on Surt's shoulder. All of Jake's injuries screamed at him with every jolt. After several minutes, he felt the water and bread coming back up. He tried to stop it, but couldn't, and vomited all over the back of Surt's legs. That brought howls of laughter from the others and a grim smile from Matus. Surt asked to stop and clean off the mess, but Matus would not let the group halt.
They kept up the pace for most of the day, only interrupted by infrequent rest breaks. When Matus called the breaks, Surt would throw Jake roughly to the ground, but Matus made him give Jake water and bread at every stop. Jake was sure that the group hoped he would puke on Surt again, but he was able to keep it down. Throughout the march, Jake tried to relax and develop a plan of escape, but spending most of his time hanging upside down and bouncing off Surt's shoulder made that impossible.
At each break, Jake noticed the subtle changes in the forest. As they progressed, the trees began to thin slightly, with more open spaces appearing. More bushes were intergrowing with the trees. The ground transitioned from a dark fertile color to a lighter brown and more compacted soil. Watching the sun through the breaks in the trees, Jake thought that the group was moving in a westerly direction. That would mean that they were heading towards the rolling plains that Jake saw from the ridge.
The sky was starting to darken when they halted for the night, stopping in a large clearing ringed with trees and bushes. As usual, Jake was thrown to the ground by Surt, the pain from his injuries reigniting. Jake's hands ached from the bindings and he was concerned that they were being seriously damaged. He rolled over to his side and got up to his knees, head spinning. He took several deep breaths and slowly the spinning stopped. He tried to stretch his upper body to alleviate the soreness in his abdomen from being carried. He strained against his bindings, hoping to loosen them to give his hands more circulation.
Jake was left alone with Matus as the rest of the men were sent out to gather firewood. Matus had sat down, with his back to a tree across the clearing, pulled the hood of his cloak up and leaned his head back. Even though he appeared disinterested, Jake could feel the man's eyes on him. Jake stayed as quiet and still as he could, only shifting slightly as he continued to try to stretch his sore muscles.
Soon, the others had returned with firewood and got a large campfire going in the middle of the clearing. The men sat around the fire, eating, drinking and laughing; all except Matus and Surt. Matus sat there motionless, about ten feet away from the fire, like a dark statue. Surt was sitting slightly apart from the rest of the men, tearing at his food while glaring from under his deep brows at, alternatively, Matus and Jake.
One of the men got up and came over to Jake, a waterskin in his hand. "Here, boy…drink." The man said. Jake opened his mouth and the man poured the liquid into his mouth. As soon as he swallowed the first gulp, Jake realized that it was not water. The liquid burned as it went down, causing Jake to cough harshly.
Jake closed his mouth and moved his head to avoid the flow. He was rewarded with a shower of the liquid over his face, stinging and burning as it got into his wounds and his eyes. He fell to his side, coughing uncontrollably, desperate enough to rub his face in the dirt to get the liquid off. Tears flowed from his eyes, both from the pain and the liquid.
The other men laughed at Jake as the man took a deep swig from the bag and made his way back to the fire. They made crude remarks about his manhood and keeping his liquor down. Through his pain, Jake was surprised that Matus did not say anything, considering how he had treated Surt earlier. Apparently, Surt also took this silence as encouragement to heap cruelty onto Jake.
"He cries like a girl." Surt said, causing some chuckles from the others. Surt moved over to Jake. "Are you sure you are really a boy?"
"Boy or girl, when did that make a difference to you, Surt?" One of the men shouted, causing the others to laugh raucously.
"I think I should check." Surt said, his hand reaching into Jake's crotch. Jake struggled to get away from him, but Surt held him down with his other hand. "What do we have here?" Surt said as he suddenly squeezed down hard.
Jake screamed from the new pain, frantically flailing around, trying to get free. He could hear to the other men laughing at his plight, some shouting crude suggestions to Surt. The humiliation of the situation added to his pain. Jake was trying to kick his leg to dislodge Surt, when he heard a heavy blow and the pressure ceased. Jake opened his eyes as saw Matus moving past him towards Surt, who was stumbling back from Matus' kick.
Surt fell, then rolled and sprang to his feet, hand flashing to his sword. Matus leapt forward, his hand coming down on Surt's wrist, preventing Surt from drawing his sword. As he did that, Matus crashed the elbow of his other arm into Surt's face. Surt staggered back, stunned. Matus immediately followed with a kick to Surt's groin, causing him to double over. Matus grabbed Surt's head and kneed him in the face. Surt fell back, blood flowing from his nose and mouth. Matus quickly knelt, his left knee on Surt's right arm and the other knee in his chest.
"I warned you to leave the boy alone, Surt. You don't listen very well." Matus told the semi-conscious Surt, voice cold and hard. With a deliberate casualness, he reached out and grabbed Surt's right ear. He drew his dagger and, with a quick slash, cut Surt's ear off. Surt cried out, blood spurting from the wound. Matus released him and stood, tossing the severed ear on the ground next to Surt. "Maybe that will teach you to listen next time." He turned to head back to his resting spot, leaving Surt rolling in pain on the ground, the other men delighting in Surt's humiliation.
"Thank you." Jake, who had shifted into a sitting position, said softly to Matus as he passed.
Matus stopped, looking surprised that Jake had spoken. He bent down and slapped Jake across the face, hard. Jake's head spun and he almost fell over.
"Don't thank me, boy." Matus said. "I didn't do that for you. Surt needed a lesson to remember who the Master placed in charge."
"Master?" Jake asked, belatedly realizing that he should have kept quiet.
"Our Master. He sent us out on this hunt." Matus replied, slapping Jake again. "Don't worry, you will meet him soon. I would stop talking and rest, if I were you. You are going to need your strength." Matus smiled cruelly as he said it, then picked Jake up, carried him a short distance and shoved him down with his back to a tree. "Are you going to be smart and stay put or do I need to tie you up?" Jake nodded nervously as he stared into those cold eyes.
"Good boy." Matus said with a smirk, patting Jake on the head like a dog. "Despite our Master's command, everything you have experienced so far will pale in comparison if I have to track you down." Matus turned and walked away; the others chuckling, grinning evilly at Jake.
Jake closed his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning against the tree. He tried to take slow breaths, searching for calm, but feeling fear, pain, despair and, surprisingly, anger. He tried to channel that anger into strength, straining against the bindings on his hands. As he flexed his arms and twisted his hands against the bonds, his fingers slid along the ground, the dirt cool and coarse.
He did not recognize it at first, but as he moved his hand again, he realized he was feeling a small rock, no bigger than his fist, broken with what felt like an edge, partly buried in the dirt. He quickly looked around, afraid his surprise showed on his face, giving him away, but the others were not paying attention to him.
Slowly, keeping his movements very small to avoid detection, he uncovered the rock. To his delight, the broken side of the rock had a jagged edge. He tucked it into his lower back, and then sat there thinking, trying to determine his next move. He knew he had to get away, but it had to be the right time.
Night settled over the woods. Jake heard the cry of an owl as it flew silently overhead. Matus sent out a couple of the men to stand watch. The men moved out into the woods, starting a slow circuit around the campsite. The rest, including Surt, his face swollen and a bloody bandage over his ear, took out their sleeping blankets and laid down. Jake could feel Surt glaring at him, but tried to ignore him. Matus had wrapped himself in his cloak next to his tree, lying on his side, facing the fire.
Soon, the fire began to burn low, its flickering light giving way to the night. The men's snores and the crackling of the embers of the dying fire were the only sounds in the campsite. Jake could hear the guards as they made their circuit, passing behind him on a regular basis. Jake looked closely at the men lying out in front of him, trying to determine if they were all really sleeping. He was not completely sure, but decided to take the chance.
He quietly moved the rock against the tree, the broken edge pointing out towards him. He slowly began to rub his bonds against the rock. He put pressure on the rope, pushing it back against the rock, trying to speed the cutting. For several minutes, it did not appear that this was going to work. Jake was beginning to despair when he felt a slight decrease in tightness of his bonds. Encouraged, he continued to cut away at the rope. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt the last strand fall away and his hands were free.
He sat there, not moving, feeling the pain and tingling as the blood flowed back into his hands. He slowly flexed his hands, wiggling his fingers, as the feeling came back. As he sat there, he thought about his next move. Since he had freed his hands, he knew that this would be his only opportunity to escape. If he was found free of his bonds, he was sure he would be tied up from his feet to his head. He had to move quickly. He decided to wait for the guards to pass behind him on their next round and then make his escape.
Jake really wanted his phone, the tie to his old life, but, with Matus having possession of it, he knew that was impossible. The wait for the guards seemed to be a lifetime. As he waited, fears and doubts gnawed at him. He was terrified of what would happen if he got caught, but knew he had to get away. A few more fear-soaked minutes ticked by before he heard the guards pass behind him. He gave them another minute or so to move on.
Jake took a deep breath, praying this would work, and did the hardest thing he had ever done: he slowly stood up. Eyes sweeping over the camp, seeking any signs of movement, sure that he would be found out, he stood there frozen. The men did not move. Cautiously, Jake took a step away from the tree, moving slowly to avoid making noise. Again, no one stirred.
Fighting the overwhelming urge to start running, Jake deliberately and quietly walked away from the camp. Sweat rolled down his face, stinging his cuts. He passed through the area he believed the guards to be patrolling and continued on, trying to keep his breathing quiet as he strained to hear any sign of pursuit. After traveling another hundred yards or so, he saw a small path in the pale moonlight, leading off into the forest. Seeing this, relief and panic overtook him and he sprinted away.