Esra (11 page)

The forest behind Sorley was not nearly as vast as Fira Nadim, but they were large enough that someone unfamiliar with them could get lost for the better part of a day.  Esra wound swiftly through the maze of Trees, her footsteps making a steady rhythm in her head, pushing her onward. 

            There were shouts from behind Esra, who strained to make out exactly what was being said without turning around.  The only thing she could comprehend was that they sounded angry.  She wanted desperately to look backwards, to see if her pursuers were close on her heels or if she were gaining any ground.  Perhaps get a look at one of them, figure out who they were.  But she dared not slow.  A Rabbit darted out from the underbrush to the right of her, panicked by the sudden noise as she shot past. 

            Esra veered left suddenly, trying to lose her pursuers, when she caught a glimpse of someone up ahead.  They were sprinting at her almost as furiously as she was running towards them.  Her mind frozen with fear, she could still hear the uneven pound of numerous footsteps behind her, three or four people, maybe more.  Panicked, she quickly decided that she would continue running straight at the man ahead and swerve right at the last minute. 

            The space between them closing in quickly, she realized there was something very familiar in the man’s form.  Trying to focus her eyes in the glowing dark, it was a moment before Esra could see that the shape in front of her was in fact Baelin.  How he knew she was out here, she didn’t know, but her gratitude in finding him gave her new energy, and she sprinted towards him with all her might.

            The look on Baelin’s face was one of fury, and it took Esra only a moment to comprehend that he was carrying a large staff in both his hands, and coming straight at her. 
Oh no.
  For a moment she wasn’t sure if her old friend could be trusted.  The sheer terror of his menacing figure was enough to have Esra decide her plan should be administered early and she veered right, aiming for a small gap between two Birch Trees. 

            She made it through, but her right shoulder caught on a large branch and whipped her around with such force that she plowed into the ground and bounced heavily.  Scrambling to her knees, she heard the scraping of metal against metal as Baelin met with her first pursuer, tearing open his dark breastplate with one upwards sweeping motion.  Without pause, he swung around to stab the second man in the chest, pulling out the blade-ended staff quickly to deflect an oncoming blow.  Esra was paralyzed on the ground as the first man clutched his stomach in a feeble attempt to staunch the flow of blood.  She could see in the distance that more of these men were coming, perhaps ten or twelve more, and they were faster than an average person should be.  The soldiers were clad in dark metal armor with a red line down the center of the breastplate, and a helmet that completely obscured their faces.  These were certainly no guards of the King.

            “Esra, run!” Baelin turned to her and bellowed with such rage that she snapped her head around and forced her legs to pull her upright.  After a few stumbling steps, she found that the panic in her was renewed, and she willed her body on with fervor.  With the noises retreating behind her, Esra tore through the forest and put all of her thoughts into one focus. 
Run, run, run, run
.  Her mind sang in time with the slap of her feet on the ground.  Another branch tore across her face, this time catching her in the eye.  She didn’t stop as the tears flowed down her face, her lungs feeling as if they were about to burst.

            A pain suddenly ripped through her right side  and there were flashes of dark shapes swirling in front of her.  All of the breath left her body in one large gush as she slammed against the forest floor.  Esra thought for a moment that she had run into something, and it was a long moment before she realized that it was a well-aimed staff that had hit her.  She tried to roll over, knowing she had to protect herself, but she was so dazed that she could not discern which way she was facing.  There was nothing but pain; all her senses became dulled as she was overwhelmed with it.  Nothing mattered in that next moment besides this pain, and she cradled her arms around her stomach to try and soothe the shock to her body.  Esra had the vague impression of someone large looming over her, and she squinted hazily as that one body was joined by a multitude of other blurred shapes.  Her head was filled with a steady pounding in her ears, and she wondered briefly if the man standing above her could hear her heartbeat as loudly as she. 

           
We’ve got her,
one of the shapes said.
 Feisty little wretch, ain’t she?

            Esra tried to form a coherent thought.  She knew she was in danger but she could not seem to move anything, or see correctly, for that matter.  White flashes of lights floated before her eyes, and the pain in her side took on a new surge of ferocity as she recovered her breath.

           
Get her up,
another one said,
we have to get moving.

           
Did ye kill the other one?
The first shape asked. 

           
No, we’ll deal with him later.  Our first order of business is to get this little miss to her master. 

           
Master?
  Esra thought. 
The other one?
  A sense of relief flooded over her as she realized that at least for the moment, Baelin was alive and they were not going to kill her.  She moaned in anguish as a violent burning exploded over her midsection.  It felt like she was on Fire.

            Ye were supposed to stop her, not break her in half,
one of them snapped angrily.

           
Details, details.

            An excruciating pain raked through Esra’s body as she was lifted to her feet.  The vague shapes began to come into focus, and she watched as two men came to support her from either side.  She could feel both of her legs now, and her arms, but she was quite sure that a few of her ribs had been broken.  Each breath was causing blinding pain.  Giving in unwillingly to exhaustion, she leaned heavily on each of the men.

           
We need to go. Move
, the leader said.  She thought furiously of what she should do.  But after attempting to take only a couple of steps, it was obvious that Esra would not be walking anywhere.  Another man came from behind a Tree and reached into his pocket.

           
Here, this will make things a little easier,
he said as he withdrew a small vial from his cloak.  The man on her left grabbed her hair and jerked her head back as the other poured a bitter liquid down her throat.  She coughed and sputtered violently, but the man held a firm grasp on her hair, forcing her to swallow most of the foul concoction.

           
Don’t worry, by the time I count to three, this little lady will be dead weight, and ye can carry her upside down if ye’d like.

            Esra’s mind was growing cloudy, her limbs suddenly seeming very heavy.  She struggled to hold on to consciousness, but her thoughts seemed to be slipping away.

           
One…two…

            Darkness.

X

       Esra awoke to a chorus of raucous laughter erupting on her left.  Feeling the sharp poke of uneven Earth beneath her, she struggled to comprehend why in the world she was lying on the ground outside and not in her bed at home.  Then she remembered.  Cane and his frantic warning, the men with the dark armor chasing her through the forest, Baelin and his staff.  Everything around her was black, and for a second she panicked, thinking the potion had left her blind.  But after blinking hard a few times she could barely make out the stars poking through the thick shroud of Trees.  It was nighttime and she was still in the forest.  Although this was vaguely reassuring, she had no idea just how long she’d been unconscious.

       Trying to rotate towards the sound of voices, she felt a restraining pull on her ankles and wrists. 
They’ve got me bound,
she thought miserably.  Rocking back, an explosive pain seared through her right side and she gasped in shock.  The staff hit had certainly left her with more than just a bad bruise.  She wished vehemently for her grandparents, knew that they would certainly be missing her by now.  Surely they would send someone to get her?  Then again, she was unsure of what was going on, and maybe these people had captured them as well. 

Gritting her teeth, Esra was finally able to gain enough courage and momentum to roll over to her other side.  A couple dozen men lounged around a Fire burning in the center of a hastily built camp.  Some were eating, some dozing, but most were listening intently to one man as he waved his hands frantically, telling some sort of a story about hunting Vernok.  The men erupted into laughter, not noticing that their prisoner was awake.  Strewn about the camp were the pieces of dark metal armor with the red line down the front of the breastplates.  The helmets that had covered every inch of their faces now lay at their sides, although she could not see much past the glare of the Fire. 

      
That’s pretty bold of them to build a Fire,
she thought. 
Maybe we’re far enough away that it doesn’t matter if they create smoke.  Who knows how long that potion knocked me out fer?  Either that or they’re too stupid or arrogant to care if someone sees them. 

       She was hoping it was the latter.  At least then she’d have a chance to be rescued.  Her side still had an intense, steady ache, but the shooting pains were gone now that she was lying still.  Esra focused on moving all her limbs, making sure that nothing else was broken.  Her left eye had practically swollen shut from the Tree branch, but she seemed otherwise in good health.  A deep rumbling in her stomach told her it was far past supper, maybe more than one of them.  The commotion around the Fire began to break up as the elaborate hunting story came to an end.  Some of the men began to gather around a large black pot to spoon out some brownish, gruel looking mess. 

       Under any other circumstances, Esra would never consider eating such a foul looking meal, but the hunger in her was growing, and she wanted to keep her strength up as much as possible.

       “Um…” Esra cleared her throat as one of the men turned around to stare at her.  “Over here.”

“Well, well.  It looks like our little treasure is awake, boys.” A snicker moved through the group and Esra recognized the voice as the one who had forced her to drink the potion.  As the man stepped forward into the Firelight, Esra gasped in disgust at the revelation of what was underneath the red striped helmet.  His skin was a greyish hue that seemed to be completely devoid of any eyelids or hair.  His nose and ears looked as if they were melting off his face and the eyes had no color, only small, black pits that sunk deeply into his grey skin.  A mouth that was greatly distorted and much too large completed his grotesque facial features.  “Hungry, love?”

       Esra stared at the man in shock as a torrent of anger enveloped her.

       “I’m not, and never will be yer love,” she spat angrily, “and yes, I am hungry.” 

She realized that it was probably a better idea to have kept her mouth shut, but she was in no mood to take any sarcasm from this despicable character.  Her aching body and growling stomach reminded her of just what these men were capable of.  Not to mention that they might have captured or hurt someone else. 

       “Ho!” He reeled his head back and crossed his arms, attempting to look offended.  Leaning down towards her, he said in a loud whisper.  “I’d thought that maybe after what happened a couple of days ago, we’d tamed yer filthy mouth.  I can see now that ye may need some more working.  How’s bout I teach ye what happens to little girlies who say the wrong thing to the wrong man?”

       His fist slammed against her cheek with such force that she rolled twice.  White flashes flickered across her eyes as an intense wave of nausea seized her.  She tilted her head to throw up, and as she did the taste of blood filled her mouth.  Turning over, the nausea lifted and was replaced by a severe pulsating pain on the left side of her face.  Her eyes throbbed as she resolutely tried to focus back on her attacker. 

       A rage Esra had never felt before surged through her, and she grinned a bloody smile at the man, mocking him.  “Who’d ye say was the girlie?”

       His eyes bulged with fury and he raised his fist to strike her again.  Before she could regret her quick tongue, a man came from behind and caught the fist mid-swing in his palm, a loud slapping sound echoing from the impact. 

       “Like I said before, Krune, don’t touch the goods.”  The potion man named Krune gave a last furious look at Esra, spitting at the ground where she lay before reluctantly turning around and heading back to the Fire.  Based upon the quietness that settled over the camp, it was obvious that this man was one of their leaders.  He was the stockiest of the group, and his misshapen face was partially hidden by a black, greasy looking beard that sparsely covered his chin.

       “Thank ye,” Esra croaked, her voice coming out in a raspy growl.  The pain in her face seemed to multiply remarkably when she spoke.  “Why have ye captured me and where are we going?”

       He bent over Esra and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her up to lean against a Tree.  She cried out as her stiff muscles revolted against the motion.  He leaned towards her face, and Esra could smell the mead on his breath and see bits of dried gruel in his wiry beard.   He glared at her with his revolting black eyes and Esra could feel her brief wall of stoicism being punctured.  She gasped in disgust as the commander opened his contorted mouth to speak, his foul breath warm on her face.  “Just because I didn’t let him pommel ye doesn’t mean yer allowed to speak.  Ask a question like that again and I will make certain myself that ye will never open yer cursed mouth again.”