Chapter 3
Three
SIMON
I was still pissed when the giant barbarian sat me down on a pallet of blankets in a large, well lit tent. The middle was open enough to allow the smoke from the fire out, but not too much heat. It was warm, and after days of trying to escape on the stupid journey here, the warmth made my body heavy with fatigue. I hated it. I needed to get out of here. I was going back to my city, and then I was going to skewer Tomas for doing this to me. There wouldn’t be a recognizable piece of him once I was through.
A woman and a man came inside. The woman had an infant tied to her back in a way I’d seen some women do in the city when they had chores and other things that required both hands. The babe was asleep and seemed unbothered by her movement. The man was obviously not a barbarian, based on his size alone. He looked smaller than me, which was saying something, and he had no muscles to speak of. They both chatted idly until the woman noticed our presence and stopped.
“Feigrind? Is everything alright?”
“The tribute fell and hurt himself,” the barbarian said smoothly. “It does not look broken, but he might need it wrapped.”
I was pretty sure, from the way the barbarians had spoken to me and the other tributes thus far, that none of them expected me to understand them. And I wasn’t about to give that fact away before I had to. I knew enough of the language to get by from servicing a nearby clan to our town, and I wanted as much information as I could get before showing my hand. Maybe one of them would let slip the fastest way out of here.
While the woman knelt beside me to check my ankle, the man behind her turned his attention to me and smiled softly. “I know you must be scared, but I promise, you’re safe here.”
He spoke in the common tongue, probably to better soothe me. It didn’t work. I narrowed my eyes at him.
“Who are you?” I demanded.
He startled at my sharp tone, looking almost frightened by it. Which was ridiculous, considering I currently couldn’t move without pain shooting up my ankle.
“I, uh… I’m Finn. I’m the clan scribe. I’ll be teaching you and the other new tributes the language and the way of life here. So that you can better?—”
“No, thanks,” I interrupted. “I’m not staying.”
He grimaced, obviously uncomfortable arguing with me. Good. Maybe he’d go away, then.
“I know it feels like the worst place in the world to be, but they’re actually really good people. Those rumors?—”
Were irrelevant. No one was forcing me to do anything. I’d cut off their balls if they tried. And I wasn’t going to let him or anyone else manipulate me into thinking I had to stay.
“I’m not interested. Go sell your little speech to someone else.”
The woman stiffened and looked up at me with a severe expression. “Do not treat him that way. He is only trying to be kind.”
I gave her a flat look. “I was stolen from my home and handed off to be a bed warmer to a bunch of savages. Do I look like I care about his kindness? Unless he’s offering to bring me back home, I don’t give a shit what he has to say.”
She shot a look at the barbarian, switching to his language. “You’ve got your hands full with this one. Rest and elevation. It doesn’t need a wrap. Be careful that he doesn’t attack you in your sleep.”
Her words were harsh, and she pushed to her feet without a backward glance, pulling the smaller man to her side and leading him away. He was frowning and twisting his fingers, but didn’t argue with her. Whatever. I didn’t care.
“I feel like I don’t want to know what you said to them,” the barbarian said, picking me up again. “I will not be so lucky when you can speak our language.”
It took a lot not to answer him. I didn't want to give up my secret. But he spoke to me like I understood, and if I wasn’t paying attention, I’d snap back a response automatically.
He headed out of the warm tent and down a path to a smaller fire than the one in the middle of the village. I paid attention to try to get a better idea of my next escape, but there wasn’t much to differentiate one path from another. It was just a bunch of tents, a few fires dotted around, and the forest on one side. That seemed like the quickest way to get out of sight, but as proved to me with my last attempt, it wasn’t a good idea to tackle that at night when I couldn’t see. I’d need to try again in daylight.
“I can tell you want to run again,” he commented, forcing me to jerk back to look at him. “You are not the first in my care to do it. You will not be the last. I am your protector. I will keep you safe. Even from yourself.”
From myself? What the hell was that supposed to mean?
He didn’t explain any further. Probably because he was talking at me, not to me. He didn’t think I could understand him. Which begged the question of why he even bothered.
Ducking into a tent near the smaller fire, he sat me down on a pallet much softer than the one in the healing tent. There were furs piled on one side, so soft I sank into them when he put me down. I shot him a confused look. The barbarians didn’t strike me as the lounging in luxury types.
“The other tributes would complain otherwise,” he explained, his focus on lighting a lantern on the table. He’d mentioned before that I wasn’t his first tribute, but that didn’t make any sense. Why would he need more than one? Was it a harem situation? Was he just keeping me apart from them until he felt I would behave? He’d learn eventually that I behaved for no man. I wasn’t letting him keep me.
I woke up late, like I always did, and for a minute I forgot where I was. The furs were warm and comfortable, and the sun heated the tent enough to make me think I was inside my room at home. The weather was nicer there.
It wasn’t until I heard voices talking and laughing outside the tent that I remembered. When I did, I groaned and buried my face into the furs. I’d told myself to wake up early, while the barbarian was still asleep. I could’ve snuck out and gotten away before he could chase after me. So much for that plan.
“You’re awake.”
I ignored him. At least until he spoke again.
“Are you hungry?”
Ugh. I had no choice but to turn around. I was starving. I’d been refusing to eat just to make my captors’ lives more difficult. I couldn’t refuse again. Turning over, I glared at him, but refused to get up. He didn’t seem bothered by this. He didn’t seem bothered by any of my behavior. Even after I’d run last night, he just looked bored. He held up a bowl of food, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Food?”
I put my hand out for it, but didn’t get up. I was comfortable, and I wasn’t moving unless I had to.
The barbarian shook his head, pointing to the spot near the table beside him. “Here.”
I scowled, crossing my arms. I wasn’t going to let him tell me what to do.
He didn’t get angry or try to coax me. He just waited, taking bites out of his own bowl like he didn’t care either way if I ate or not. I wanted to pitch a fit, but my stomach growled petulantly, and I was forced to give in. I was so hungry, I was dizzy. I couldn’t run away with no food in my belly.
Crawling out of the bed, I reached for the bowl. He saw straight through me and moved it before I could snatch it and bring it back to bed. I narrowed my eyes. Fine. He wanted to be that way; I’d make him regret it. Big men like him, who weren’t into other men, always got uncomfortable with my attention. I got up, flinching only a little thankfully since my ankle was feeling better, plopped myself into his lap, and grabbed my food, ignoring him completely.
If being my chair bothered him, he didn’t let on. He actually chuckled, amused, before eating around me. He didn’t move me, didn’t protest or shove me off like I’d expected. Was I wrong in assuming he wasn’t interested? That’s what it had sounded like when he was speaking to the older guy last night.
Lifting a fruit, he said its name, tipping his head to look at me expectantly. I glared at him. I wasn’t playing that game. He still didn’t get mad, though. He just kept going, pointing things out and saying their names. He eventually pointed at his chest, giving me a significant look. “Feigrind. Your protector.”
Then he pointed at me, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not answering that,” I replied in the common tongue. “You don’t need to know. All you need to understand is that I’m going to make your life a living hell until you set me free. I didn’t ask to be here. And I won’t let you keep me as one of your harem. So you can stop trying to get me to warm up to you. It’s not going to happen.”
He hummed, snagging a piece of bread from his bowl. “Long name,” he commented dryly.
My mouth fell open. “That’s not my name!”
He still didn’t understand me. I growled, frustrated, and swatted at his arm when he rubbed a hand soothingly up and down my back. I didn’t need his comfort. I just needed a way out.