chapter SIX
About an hour after Jake's escape, Matus was still dreaming about the rewards that their Master would bestow on him when they brought him the boy. He dreamed that he would be allowed to take that lickspittle Surt's head after introducing him to a whole new world of pain. He was suffused in the pleasure of the dream when voices shouting shattered his visions.
He came instantly awake, rolling to his feet, hand on sword. Everyone in the camp was up, wary, and there was a group of four standing at the tree where he left the boy. He immediately thought that Surt had come after the boy. With that thought burning in his head, he started that way with murderous intent. He glanced over and saw Surt still in his blankets near the firepit, battered and bandaged; yet, he appeared to be as surprised by the commotion as Matus.
Matus came up to the group by the tree, pushed his way through, looking for the boy, but all he saw was the boy's bonds next to the tree, cut. He quickly knelt and found the jagged rock. "So, the boy had some courage in him after all." He thought. He had not believed it or he would have made sure the boy was secured to the tree. He felt the rest of the men watching him, judging, maybe even questioning his leadership.
Standing abruptly, he spun and pointed to the two men he had left on guard. "How did the boy slip past you?" He asked, voice cold and dangerous. He approached the men, stopping directly in front of them. "Were you lax in your duties? You know what I will do if I find out that you were."
"Matus, we did as you commanded." One of the men said. "We were patrolling outside of camp, watching for attackers, not someone sneaking out. If you had..." He cut off as Matus smashed his fist into his head, the man going down in a heap, groaning.
Matus looked at the other one. "Do you have something to say?" He asked quietly.
"No, Matus." The man replied quickly.
"Good. Pick that fool up and get ready to leave." Matus turned to the other men. "We depart in three minutes. Anyone not ready to move by then will be left here for the scavengers!" The men hurriedly gathered their supplies and were ready to march before Matus' time or patience ended.
"We will track and recapture the boy. He is to be taken alive." Matus said. He fixed Surt with a cold stare. "If anyone other than me harms the boy further, they will answer for it in blood." He saw nods all around, even Surt.
He motioned the men to start moving. "Keep running, boy." He thought, smiling to himself. "I always like a good chase. In the end, you will be mine again."
...
Lost in the grip of fear, Jake ran down the forest path, heedless of his direction. His mind was screaming for him to keep running and get as much distance as possible between his captors and himself. He would slip and fall as he lost his footing in the dark, aggravating all of his injuries, but each time, he got up and continued to run.
But he was running on fumes and knew it. The bread he was given was not enough to keep him going. He felt his strength ebb and slowed to a walk. His fear kept him moving, afraid that if he stopped he would not be able to restart. As he recovered, he would try to sprint again, but the periods that he could maintain it grew shorter and shorter. After the last sprint, he could not help himself and stopped, hands on his legs, lungs burning.
As he paused to catch his breath, Jake heard the soft sound of running water off to his right and turned towards it. Stifling a groan, he made himself move and pushed his way through some tall underbrush and saw a small stream, its water an inky black in the soft moonlight. He stopped at the edge and knelt down to drink. The water had a muddy taste to it, but Jake did not care and drank deeply. It cooled his parched throat, easing the rough feel in the back of his mouth.
He only knelt for a few seconds, but as he rose, he could feel his legs starting to cramp. He propelled himself in motion, trying to ignore the painful muscle contractions. He walked into the stream, heedless of the water soaking his shoes and socks, and turned upstream. He hoped that walking in the stream would throw off his trail against the inevitable pursuit. He stumbled and splashed his way for several hundred yards, then exited and continued on through the forest, angling away from the stream.
His shoes now drenched in water, he found the going slower. He tried to sprint at intervals, but his body was giving out. His legs were cramping more strongly and the lack of food was draining his energy. Soon, he could only walk and even that was growing more difficult.
As the forest became lighter as dawn approached, Jake heard the sounds of the men looking for him in the distance. The sounds were still far away, but Jake could think of nothing else he could do but to keep moving. He tried to pick up his pace, but he had nothing else to give. His fear began to rise, mind imagining the horrible things that were likely to happen to him when he was caught, as the sounds drew closer.
As he pushed headlong into bushes that rose in his path, the branches ripping his clothes and scratching his skin, he realized that the stream did not provide the diversion he hoped. He could just make out the voices that shouted that they had found his trail and the sounds of feet splashing through the water. He continued to move forward, desperate to get away, knowing that he couldn't.
The voices grew steadily louder as the distance closed between Jake and his pursuers. With the men closing in, Jake's terror caused his body to respond with a final surge of adrenaline, allowing him to make one more sprint. He raced ahead, only focused on trying to gain some distance, his wet shoes making squishing sounds as he ran. As a wall of bushes appeared ahead of him in the faint light, he simply lowered his head and ran through them. As he crashed through the branches, eyes closed and breath raggedly pushing in and out of his lungs, he came to a sudden stop as he hit something large that was both hard and soft, as well as warm.
He was staggered by the collision and collapsed to the ground, his momentum causing him to roll a couple of times. He tried to stand back up, but his legs cramped and he went back down. He pushed himself over onto his side and looked around, trying to determine what he had hit.
He saw that he was in a clearing, ringed on three sides by bushes. There was a small fire pit in the middle and he saw a saddle and sleeping blanket lying on the ground next to it. He saw that through the legs of a large black horse, standing a couple of feet away, its head, shoulders and front flanks covered in grey steel armor. Jake must have hit it in the side and bounced off. The horse reared back, its teeth bared, front metal-shod hooves wheeling. Jake could only stare and wait for the hooves to fall when a deep voice called out. "Stand, Shadow!"
The horse came back down, snorting and swinging its head. A tall man, at least six three or six four, wearing a metal breastplate, greaves and vambraces over brown leather pants and a tan shirt, stepped from behind the horse. In the early morning light, Jake could see that the man was muscular with short dark hair, with some gray sprinkled in, and bright blue eyes. The man would have been considered handsome, except that his lean and hard face was lined with multiple scars, with an especially wicked looking one that ran from above his right eye, down diagonally across his nose and ending near his jaw line on his left cheek. He wore a brown leather belt with a long dagger and an empty sheath for the long doubled-edged sword in his right hand. Besides the weapon, Jake sensed a dangerousness, an air of violence, radiating from the man and knew this had to be the Master that Matus had mentioned. He cried out in frustration and fear, trying to crawl away.
"Easy, boy." The man said, his deep voice rumbling. "I'm not going to kill you. What has you so terrified that you were running blind?" Jake did not respond as he continued to crawl, his only thought to get away from this man.
The man simply reached down and grabbed Jake's leg with his left hand and pulled him back towards his fire, Jake clawing at the ground to stop him. He stopped, dropped Jake's legs and grabbed his arm. His grip was firm, but not cruel, as he flipped Jake onto his back. Jake could only look at him with terrified eyes, formless noises in his throat.
"Boy, I asked you what you are running from." The man said sternly. His eyes were hard and not friendly. "I see you have had a rough time of it, but I need to know what trouble you are in." Before Jake could say anything, the two men who had been on guard duty barreled through the bushes into the clearing.
To Jake's surprise and confusion, as soon as the tall man saw the other two, he immediately launched himself towards them. The two men reacted in shock, stumbling back, yelling and reaching for their swords. They apparently were only expecting to find Jake, not an armed warrior. The two men's swords had barely cleared their sheaths when the tall man was on them. His blade flashed as he struck and one man was down, hands grasping his throat, blood pouring from between his fingers. The other man was able to swing his sword, but it was parried and, with a twist of his wrist, the tall man ran him through.
As the tall man kicked the man off his blade, two more of the men who captured Jake came through the bushes, swords bare. The tall man did not hesitate. He closed the distance with them before they had time to set, blade moving, seemingly to blur in the morning light. Faster than Jake could follow, both men were on the ground, dead or dying. The tall man paused, listening, then moved quickly back towards the fire. He stopped and stood there, waiting, like a snake coiled to strike.
The remaining four men came through at once, Matus slightly behind the others. All had their swords out; clearly they had heard the fighting before they got there. Surt saw Jake lying on the ground, hate causing his face to twist into an ugly mask. It was obvious that he did not intend to recapture Jake. At Matus' order, they spread out, trying to surround the tall man.
Despite the odds, the tall man again launched himself at the men. Surt leapt to the side, his sword flying from his hand, dodging a blow as the tall man seemed to move like a ghost among the men. Another was not so lucky and went down. Matus engaged the tall man with his remaining man at his side. The tall man had drawn his long dagger with his left hand as he fought with both men. He moved so fast that Jake could not follow. The other man went down, screaming, as his stomach was opened and Matus and the tall man were left one-on-one.
Surt moved away from the fight, his eyes fixed on Jake. He drew his dagger, the blade curved with a slight hook on the end, and came for Jake. "Time to die, boy." He hissed, eyes crazed. Jake could not move or react, his body frozen from fear and exhaustion. He simply watched as Surt came towards him, too tired to even call out.
Suddenly, Surt's eyes went wide as the blade of a dagger blossomed from his throat. It was the tall man's dagger, thrown at Surt. He fell to his knees, then toppled to his side, his life bubbling away as he frantically clawed at the dagger. Surt gave a strangled gurgle as he breathed his last and went still, eyes open and staring.
The ringing of steel on steel echoed across the clearing as Matus and the tall man fought. At first, they appeared to be evenly matched. Their swords, metal flashing as they caught the light, seemed made of fire as they exchanged attacks and parries.
In the end, though Matus was quick, the tall man was quicker. The tall man's sword suddenly went low, stabbing Matus in the thigh. He gave the sword a slight twist and ripped it out, causing Matus to cry out and fall to one knee. The tall man blocked a counter-stroke from Matus with his armored forearm and brought his sword down. He cut through Matus' arm at the elbow, severing the forearm and hand that held the sword. The tall man spun like a dancer, blade extended, and Matus' head went tumbling to the ground.
Jake lay on the ground, stunned by what he just witnessed. This man just fought and killed eight men by himself. The tall man moved back to Jake, scanning the area for more opponents. "Are there any more, boy?" He asked quietly, eyes never leaving the surrounding bushes. "Are there more?!" He repeated, tone harsh, when Jake did not say anything.
"No, there were only eight." Jake said softly, voice raspy from his exertions.
Nodding, the man went back towards the dead men, pausing to remove his dagger from Surt. He went over to Matus' body and wiped the blood off his dagger and sword on Matus' cloak and sheathed them. He searched Matus' clothes and cloak, finding some gold and Jake's phone. He looked at it with curiosity.
"That's mine." Jake said, struggling to sit up. "He took it from me when he captured me."
The tall man stared at Jake for a moment or two, then casually tossed him his phone, earbuds trailing like a streamer. Jake could not catch it, but it landed next to him. Jake picked up his phone, tears of relief coming to his eyes, as the tall man searched the rest of the bodies.
Satisfied, the tall man went over to his supplies, which were lying next to his sleeping blanket, and searched through his saddle bags. He pulled out a large piece of cloth, a waterskin and some wrapped food and came back to squat down next to Jake.
"Here, boy, drink some water." He said, handing Jake the waterskin, as he used the cloth to wipe the blood off his armor and clothes. Jake gratefully tilted the skin back and drank deeply. The tall man reached out and pulled it away. "Not so fast. In your condition, you are as likely to throw it up if you drink too much. Take small sips only." He handed the skin back to Jake and opened up the wrapped food.
"Eat this and chew slowly." He said as he handed Jake a small piece of what looked like jerky. Jake bit into it and he was in heaven. Though a touch salty, the jerky had an unusual spice flavoring that made his mouth water. After two plus days with limited food and massive exertion, he felt he could eat twenty pounds of this. However, the tall man kept the pieces small and, after a little while, put the jerky away. Jake could not contain his disappointment and groaned.
"Don't worry, boy. I'll take you where you will be able to eat your fill." The tall man said. "What's your name?"
"Jake. Jake Thomas."
"Well, Jake Thomas, my name is Dominic, of Sanduas." The man said with a slight nod of the head. "Let me take a look at your injuries."
Dominic examined Jake's face, his rough hands almost gentle as he probed the extent of the damage. When Jake shifted and winced, Dominic asked him about it and Jake told him about his injured ribs. Dominic examined Jake's side and let his hands fall.
"I don't think anything is broken, but you should be seen by a healer. Unfortunately, the nearest ones are a two-day ride away." Dominic said, looking intently at Jake. "I will take you there, but before we leave, tell me how you came to be pursued by the half-men."
"Half-men?" Jake asked, confused, mind fuzzy from exhaustion. "Are you talking about the men chasing me?"
"Yes." Dominic paused, looking thoughtful. "Have you never heard of half-men before?"
"No. I'm not from around here." Jake replied.
Dominic made a waving gesture with his hand, dismissing the question. "It is not important. Tell me how you came to be here."
Jake, tired, but relieved to have someone to talk to, told Dominic his story, starting from his fight after school. Dominic listened quietly, face unreadable.
After Jake had finished, Dominic shook his head and said. "That is quite a tale, boy. When we get to the city, this is something that my friend, Jonas, will need to hear and maybe even be able to understand. Can you ride?"
"A horse?" Jake asked stupidly.
Dominic just stared at Jake. "Of course...I didn't mean for you to ride me."
"I rode a horse at my grandfather's house, but that was years ago."
"No matter. In your condition, I don't think you could stay in the saddle on your own. Rest for a moment." Dominic said as he rose and saddled his horse. He gathered his supplies and packed them away. He slung his saddle bags and came back to Jake. "Can you stand?"
Jake tried to get up, but his legs would not cooperate. After watching him struggle for a bit, Dominic just reached down and picked Jake up. He carried him over to his horse and set Jake into the saddle. He had Jake hold onto the pommel and swung up behind him. He reached around Jake and grabbed the reins.
"Don't worry, boy. I won't let you fall off. On, Shadow." Dominic said as he booted his horse, getting him up to a gallop.
They followed a winding dirt trail from the clearing, which, after about ten minutes, connected to a large hard-packed dirt road. Dominic turned onto the road and set a moderate pace. The temperature rose as the sun moved over the forest. Jake could feel himself getting groggy and tried to stay awake by focusing on the passing terrain, but shortly, secured between Dominic and the saddle, rocking with the movement of the horse, drifted off into sleep.
…
Jake ran as hard as he could, running through a forest, the trees and bushes a blur as he passed them. He was racing to avoid Surt and Matus; they were pursuing him, calling his name, sharp daggers in their hands. He suddenly felt his legs cramp and he went down in a heap.
He rolled onto his back, seeing Surt and Matus approaching, daggers gleaming, cruel smiles on their faces. Behind them, a dark shape rose. Jake could feel its malice; Surt's hatred was a pale thing compared to it. The dark shape reached for Jake. Jake could not escape, his body would not move. Surt and Matus raised their daggers, the cold metal turning black as the shape reached between them for Jake. Jake screamed for help and...
Crying out, Jake came awake. Awash in the emotions of the nightmare, Jake could not recall where he was. He thrashed against the blankets covering him, struggling to get free.
"Easy, boy. You are safe." Dominic's deep voice said, cutting through the emotions racking Jake. He followed Dominic's voice and saw him sitting across a small fire from Jake, using a stone to hone his sword. Jake was lying on the ground next to the fire, covered in Dominic's blanket, a saddlebag for a pillow. "You have slept all day, though I am not sure it was restful for you."
Jake slowly relaxed and laid back down. His mind calmed and he became aware of the night sky, stars shining though the gaps in the trees around their campsite. He glanced around and found Shadow tied up a few feet away. The night was cool, with a slight breeze blowing.
"I have something for your injuries." Dominic said, setting aside his sword. "It will help you rest and speed healing." Jake saw Dominic take out a small poach and tap some powder into a cup. He added water and stirred it with his finger.
Dominic brought the cup over to Jake. "It tastes terrible, but it works. I have used it many times. Drink it." Jake gave the cup a distrustful glance, thinking about how he could politely refuse it.
Dominic shook his head slightly and said. "It's not poison, boy. I wouldn't need that if I wanted to kill you." He took a quick drink from the cup and held it back out to Jake. "Drink it."
Jake took the cup and sniffed. It smelled terrible. Feeling Dominic's eyes on him, Jake brought the cup to his lips and drank it down in a single gulp. Jake gagged; it tasted even worse than it smelled. He fought the urge to vomit as Dominic took and filled the cup with water and handed it back. The water helped and the taste faded quickly. He handed the cup back to Dominic.
Jake laid his head back on the saddlebag while Dominic went back to honing his sword. The soft rhythmic rasping sound as the stone slid across the metal soon had Jake's eyes closing. He started to drift off into sleep when he heard the cry of what sounded like a large cat. He looked around worriedly until Dominic spoke.
"Rest easy, boy." He said softly, never stopping his honing. "Nothing will harm you while I am here."
Jake, comforted by Dominic's words and protective presence, felt more secure than he had since coming here. In a few seconds, he was asleep.