One of them grabbed him by the arm, yanking him to his feet. A wave of dizziness made the ground sway beneath him. They were already dragging him forward. It took a few seconds before his feet remembered how to walk, and he didn’t have to lean into the soldier’s grip. He stuck his tongue to the roof of his dry mouth. Why bother torturing me? Just keep this humiliation up.
They took him to the middle of the forming camp, and moved to either side of him, still acting as guards. As if he couldn’t dispatch them both in seconds, even with his hands tied. As soon as an opportunity presented itself…
For the time being, he analyzed the scene. Most of the men were busy tending to coliyes, some were putting up shelters and starting a few fires. If he were to try now, there would be too many of them still near their mounts. Not yet…But it would have to be soon. The longer he went without water, food, or rest, the weaker he would become, and the more difficult the escape.
Dejer was approaching, backed by five soldiers. Either expecting trouble, or intending them to be his interrogators.
As much as he’d prefer to be as scornful and vexing as possible, that wasn’t going to get him water. “So,” he licked his chapped lips, looking Dejer in the eye but trying to keep any challenge or mockery from his demeanor, “since you have to keep me alive for the boss, could I have some water?”
The glint in his eyes, the sadistic smile…it made a sense of dread settle like a weight in Yhkon’s stomach. Dejer untied Yhkon’s wrists, then flicked his hand in a gesture to some soldiers that must have been behind Yhkon. “Get our guest some water, boys.”
Yhkon had only a moment to guess at what was about to happen, before boiling water was dumped onto his back. Like liquid fire it spread over his skin in a burning, caustic wave. He gasped on a scream of pain that wouldn’t come, dimly feeling his knees and palms hit the ground. The inferno that seemed to be eating away at his flesh saturated all his senses, throbbing in his ears, blurred red in his vision. Pain overwhelming everything. Dejer was saying something. Laughter. He let his forehead fall against the cool dirt. Every muscle in his body clenched as if to resist the pain, yet only made it worse. A groan slipped past his lips. The scorching heat didn’t abate. No relief. No moment of freedom from its smothering grasp.
At some point he realized Dejer was kneeling beside him, leaning in to speak closer to his ear. The words grated on his agonized senses. “Now. Let’s have it. Your name?”
Yhkon opened his fist, closing it again around a handful of grass, squeezing until tiny pebbles and his nails cut into his palm. He heard himself inwardly pleading for relief, as if a spectator in his own clouded mind.
Dejer said something else, distant. Then a whip cracked, bringing a flash of pain like a razor across his raw back. A strangled cry escaped his gritted teeth. Dejer’s voice, sneering, just beside him. “Your name?”
“Y-Yhkon.” A cough wracked his body, bringing with it a spasm of fresh torment. Dust settled in his nose and mouth, only making him cough harder and groan again. “Yhkon Tavker.”
“Good,” Dejer leaned back, “I see we understand one another now. So, Yhkon, who are you and your friends? Where are you from?”
Oh, gsorvi…he couldn’t give them anything. Not if they whipped him until there wasn’t a scrap of skin left. He couldn’t…“We…we’re just…” Nothing would come. The haze left him blank, unable to think of a single excuse or lie. Jumbled words floated about, none of them helpful, some of them harmful if spoken aloud. “Just…”
“Better speak up, tadpole. I’ve got any number of riding whips, if this one gets too worn out we’ll find another.”
He snatched every curse his fogged mind could come up with and silently repeated them, willing his body to recover to functionality. Water. He needed water. If he could…maybe…the thoughts wouldn’t stay aligned, always ending up scrambled as the raging pain engulfed everything else. “Water…”
“Alright,” was Dejer’s only response. Yhkon cringed, muscles tightening again, waiting lest it be another bucket of boiling water. Not until a half-full canteen was thrown at him did he relax, grabbing it with fumbling fingers. The seconds it took for him to get the cap unscrewed were torture in and of themselves, before he finally put it to his lips and gulped down every drop.
“Now. You’ve had your water. I want my answers.”
He set down the canteen, remaining on his hands and knees, but lifting his head enough to survey the campsite. His vision was still blurred, the pain still excruciating. His mind, however, was clearing. There were nine men around him. Fifteen near and alert enough to be a threat. The rest, occupied or absent, or at least distant. His weaponry and Eclipse weren’t too far off or inaccessible.
“Answer!”
Yhkon closed his eyes. Drew in a long, deep breath. The pain was lessened just enough, that he could push it back, long enough to get away…just maybe…He had to try. Hand ready, he kept his head lowered, and waited. Waited…
The whip cracked. His hand shot out toward it, catching the leather just as the tip snapped over his upper back and shoulder. Ignoring the sting, he tightened his hold and jerked. Unsuspecting, Dejer lost his balance, stumbling forward while Yhkon lunged upward, knee rising to meet the commander’s abdomen. The man fell aside with a grunt. Yhkon leaped at the nearest guard, taking him by the neck while he kicked the knee out of another. Wrapping his other arm around the first guard’s head, he twisted, hearing and feeling the spine snap. Taking down the remaining five was equally simple, if a little time consuming and torturous to his back. By that time, however, an alarm had been raised. His opening was quickly vanishing.
Yhkon grit his teeth and sprinted for the coliye that had been packed with his armor and weapons. The fire that still clung to his blistered flesh raged hotter with the exertion and movement. Each heartbeat pulsed through his entire body, bringing with it a stabbing ache to his temples. Knights were closing in, forming obstacles between him and his goal. Blast Kaydor and his stupid minions. He would get out of this alive, or he’d take them all down with him.
Injured and unarmed except for the knife he’d had in his boot, he attacked the armored soldiers as if the circumstances were reversed. Perhaps there was a time in his life when he would have hesitated to use whatever brutal tactics were necessary to get it done, try to spare the lives he could, avoid dealing out gruesome injuries. If there had been such a time…it was gone now. By the time he was past the opposition, he was splattered with blood, most of which wasn’t his. Many of the Kaydorians had received not a clean death, but one that was sure to take its time.
He took his sword from the gear, left the rest. Grabbing the coliye’s reins, he continued his sprint to where Eclipse was tied with some of the other mounts. There were more knights, making a chaotic pursuit, not far behind. Somehow he had to prevent them from simply mounting the coliyes and outrunning his tired celith.
Withdrawing his sword, he ran parallel with the sloppy line of logs the animals had been tied to, blade slicing each rope as he passed. With the shouting and general ruckus, the coliyes were already uneasy, and many took off. Yhkon returned to Eclipse, picking up a dropped whip on his way. By the time he had mounted, restraining a yell at the tearing pain brought on by the movement, there were mere seconds between him and the blades of the oncoming soldiers. Without prodding Eclipse bolted, the coliye with Yhkon’s gear tied to him forced to follow. Yhkon directed the celith toward the coliyes that hadn’t yet run off, snapping the whip down on their hindquarters and shouting, until almost all of them had scattered. As he kicked Eclipse into a gallop away from the camp, there were only a few Kaydorians that had managed to mount. They chased him for only a few minutes, before realizing that Eclipse and the stolen coliye still had enough speed to make it a long hunt, and that even if they did catch him…they’d be unlikely to survive the encounter.