Chapter 11 #2
My vision turns black and sound muffles around me. The last thing I see before collapsing is a blonde haired, dainty woman with a club in her hand. She looks devilishly cheerful, her lips turning up.
“Hello, Devourer.” Her voice is far away as my eyes flutter shut and darkness welcomes me.
A violent throbbing wakes me from unconsciousness. My eyes crack open, the movement causing them to ache. I’m face down, breathing in an earthy scent, my arms like lead under the weight of my body.
Faint glowing torches are the only source of light which allow my vision to slowly clear up.
My skin feels tight and my joints achy. The night sky is black, the moons hidden amongst clouds.
Taking in my surroundings doesn’t help my bearings as we’re no longer near the gallows but instead at the forest’s edge.
All I see are the great walls of Astoria shrouded with distance and the shadow of night.
I flex my fingers, willing the numbness to flee. The prickly forest floor is unwelcome, especially when I look around to see I’m alone. It’s even more foreboding than the iron culling bands locked around my wrists and ankles. What the fuck.
I can do nothing else but lay here like a prisoner until my mind can connect the present to the past. Frustration quickly surfaces.
Craning my neck up in an attempt to look around causes the muscles to seize. Something I hadn’t expected, even if I am by all accounts, an old man.
A slight breeze picks up, wafting the smell of smoke toward me. It’s then that I notice the glow from before has gotten brighter, one of the torches making its way to me slowly, as if it was a predator waiting to ambush.
Uncertainty replaces my frustration.
“Who’s there?” The words rush out of me, the bite of them making me sound like a chained animal.
“I was surprised to find a beast like yourself at Alora’s hanging. I admit, I took more pleasure than I should have when I knocked you upside the head.”
The slender blonde peeks from behind the torch, mischief and daring etched into her youthful face.
“Though, I really thought The Devourer would have had more awareness, especially in his surroundings.” Her brown eyes sparkle in the torchlight, clearly amused by our opposing roles in this conversation.
“That was a shock, especially with how easy it was to render you…” she waves her hand at me in a circular motion, “useless.”
I level my gaze to hers, flattening my voice. “And you are?”
“Ahh, there it is. The infamous impatience. Mr. Always—To—The—Point.”
She sets the torch down by her feet, its flames sizzling the damp grass.
“How do you know who I am?”
The amusement drops from her face as if I’d slapped her.
“You’re not that hard to figure out, you know? Broody, handsome, a stick up his ass, a healthy superiority complex. Those are clear markings of someone who is confident in their own importance.”
Maybe I’ve died after all, because whoever this woman is, she definitely makes the hammering in my head feel like hell. She obviously knows she is doing so, making the additional misery take on a more sadistic feel, and for once I’m not enjoying being tormented by a woman.
I rest my forehead on the dirt, hoping I can force this specter to flee. Shuffling of feet confirms my suspicion, she’s not leaving.
“What are you doing?” A boot tapping softly on my already screaming head has me jolting away from her touch.
“Gods’ name woman, what do you want?” I practically groan the words.
A feral grin graces her lips, stretching them wide.
“Retribution.”
Our conversation is cut short by the sound of hooves and whispers. Looking up to see the newcomers, my eyes settle on the dark—haired beauty atop a sorrel mare.
“Hello, Dahla,” I croak and return my head to the ground, the coolness helping to ease the smallest amount of throbbing .
The mare snorts and paws the grass in front of where I lay.
“Alora, I’ve just been introducing myself to the beast himself.”
She looks from me to her companion, her blue eyes looking weary.
“Leeson, I wasn’t sure you’d make it…” Alora’s voice falters, and she holds her hand to her mouth to stifle a sob. Both of the women quickly hop off their horses and embrace in a tight hug.
“I drove myself mad thinking you’d be alone in this damned realm.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows. She quickly clears her throat and turns Dahla to her companion, closing the space between them.
I can’t bring myself to say anything. To be honest I’m not sure what happened in those last moments when I lost control.
“Where are the rest of my companions?” I address the one known as Leeson.
“You mean mashed potato brains?”
I quickly raise my head again and stare at the woman. She has to be a little off.
“Excuse me?”
“You asked about your companions. I don’t know of anyone in particular you’re speaking of, so I assume you’re referencing the man who’s head you bashed in until his brains turned to … mush.” A theatrical look of disgust follows the statement.
Fuck. A loose end.
“Goddess, Lee. It’s not enough that I had to pull this bastard from that pile of potato brains, but you’re making me relive it too?”
A man with pale, sandy skin appears. His brown hair is longer, reaching his chin. He walks towards us, torch light in hand.
He appears to be a few turns older than the women. The blonde runs to him, throws her arms around his neck, and plants a tender kiss on his lips.
“Caym! Gods, I thought you were dead!” Alora’s voice almost cracks. “Nevermind that now, how many did we lose?”
“None, by the gods’ favor. I assumed that to get you back we’d sacrifice a few dozen honestly.”
“That’s concerning, don’t you think? It feels too easy.”
“Alora,” his voice turns serious, “we almost didn’t make it. We were lucky we had the element of surprise for once.”
“And at what cost? What was lost to retrieve me?”
“To retrieve you? I think you mean to rescue you.”
Their conversation seems heated, irritation fresh in the air.
“What was lost?” She’s not backing down to this man, clearly not her superior.
“We almost lost you, that’s what,” the blonde chimes in softly, interrupting the escalating argument.
Leeson stretches her hand out, ivory fingers touch Alora’s cheek and an ethereal light comes from the tips.
A healer.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen one. They used to be more prominent, back before the king had rounded up most of the free folk.
Alora's eyes soften, revealing her true exhaustion.
“I can heal the skin around your neck, if you’d let me,” the healer whispers, the moment now feeling too intimate, like I’m an intruder.
“I need to keep the reminder for a while, if you don’t mind.”
So I can show The Hidden that I’m not as weak as they think me to be.
A small smile forms after she’s spoken the words.
“As you wish.”
After a few moments their demeanors shift and they relax. Alora dismounts from her saddle and walks closer to the woman beside her.
She stands nearest the man known as Caym and extends her hand to him. He quickly grabs the hand and pulls her in for an embrace.
“I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I hadn’t gotten there in time.”
The words feel too relatable, causing my throat to catch.
“Leeson would have brought us back and killed us both if either of us had failed to make it out, but I’m glad to see you again, old friend.”
They release each other and turn to me, acknowledging me for the first time in minutes.
“What do we do with this one, Commander?”
Alora’s eyes ignite at the question, her fury focused on me.
“Well, I think it’s time The Devourer is held accountable for the lives he’s taken. He’s important to the king so he’ll be important to us. We can use him as a bargaining chip, and if that doesn’t work, then we’ll kill him.” Her words strike, finality tolling.
“Such cruel words, little warrior.”
She stares at me, unblinking. It only takes her a few moments before she unleashes her tongue and snaps back. “I guess the captive has become the captor. What an intriguing turn of events.”
Her eyes narrow, slicing me with a look of pure hatred.
“For once in your life, you’ll learn what it’s like to feel helpless.”
The irony isn’t lost on me, if only she knew that I was already a slave in a war I wanted nothing to do with, would she look at me with such disdain then?
“As you wish, my lady.”
She turns to her companions again before speaking, “And what about The Nightmare? Where’s that bastard now?”
Silence.
They all exchange glances before finally the young man from earlier, the one who held the sword to my neck, steps forward. His voice is subdued as he answers, “I’m sorry Commander Viren, I tried to catch him but he used his magic to debilitate me. I… I didn’t see where he went.”
Fucking fuck. This is even worse than I could have thought. Orlin will have definitely noticed Rion missing and likely even saw me pulverize the man.
Alora’s face is guarded but the heaviness is still etched in her gaze.
“Well then we need to put as much distance between us and this godsforsaken village, immediately. We leave now.”
I can’t help but agree even though I’ve now become her captive. Orlin will stop at nothing to see me punished by King Euron, and like it or not, The Hidden might be my safest option for the foreseeable future.