The Cursed Lands

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The Cursed Lands Page 15

by Timothy L. Cerepaka


  ***

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sarzen didn’t even wait for Rothel to explain. He just turned around and ran after the Draymens, but he didn’t get very far before the Slayer grabbed him by the collar, causing him to jerk to a stop.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” said the Slayer in annoyance. “Going to walk right into their trap?”

  “Trap?” said Sarzen, looking over his shoulder at the Slayer in confusion. “Whose trap?”

  “The Draymens,” said the Slayer. “Common Draymens tactic. Kidnap someone from an unsuspecting group of naïve travelers—such as you guys, for example—and then draw the rest of the travelers into a trap in which they will all be slaughtered and no one will be permitted to escape. I’ve seen it happen way too often during my years slaying Draymens and I’m not about to let you walk right into it.”

  Sarzen yanked his collar out of the Slayer’s grasp, but didn’t run after the Draymens. “I don’t care. She’s my sister. I have to save her. No one else will. I can take care of myself.”

  “Injured and weaponless?” said the Slayer in mock astonishment. “My, I didn’t know the Dragon Gods taught their followers how to win like that. Then again, you probably believe that the Dragon Gods will protect you even if you act like an idiot, right?”

  Sarzen scowled; he didn’t want to admit it, but the Slayer had a point. “Then what am I supposed to do? Wait for the Draymens to let her go? There’s no telling what they’ll do to her.”

  “Oh, they’ll probably kill her, rape her, and then dump her corpse on the road as a warning to anyone else who might try to cross into the Cursed Lands,” said the Slayer. “And in that order, too. The Draymens are more methodical than you might think.”

  “By the Dragon Gods,” said Sarzen, while his friends exchanged worried and shocked looks at the Slayer’s blunt words.

  “But if you’re lucky, then she’ll just become a slave,” said the Slayer. “If she’s pretty enough, she’ll probably become the personal pleasure slave of some Draymens chieftain. If I were you, I’d pray to the Dragon Gods to make your sister ugly; those pleasure slaves never last long and their deaths are always very painful.”

  Sarzen just stared at the Slayer in shocked silence. He opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to find the words to respond, but he was so shocked that he just couldn’t say even one word.

  “Um, Sarzen?” said Rothel, causing Sarzen to look at him. Rothel was looking at the Slayer. “Who is this man?”

  “I’m who survivors call the Draymens Slayer,” said the Slayer. “You may have heard of me.”

  “You mean you are the actual Slayer?” said Rothel in surprise. “Did you save Sarzen from these Draymens?”

  “That I did,” said the Slayer. He rested his glowing ax on his shoulder. “Not that he has thanked me for it, I might add. Then again, the Warrior Priests are hardly know for their gratitude, even though that is supposedly one of the virtues they preach.”

  The Slayer’s sarcastic tone finally caused Sarzen to find the words to speak. “Shut up.”

  The Slayer looked at Sarzen in amusement. “Shut up? Is that the best comeback you’ve got? I’m disappointed.”

  “You don’t understand,” said Sarzen. He looked out into the darkness into which the Draymens and Helnia had vanished. “Helnia is my sister. I must save her, especially if the Draymens are going to treat her the way you said they are. She’s the only family I’ve got left after our parents died a long time ago.”

  “I know what it’s like to lose family, young man,” said the Slayer, his tone suddenly softer. “But that doesn’t mean rushing headlong into a trap. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think your sister is actually going to be killed, not unless she tries to escape, anyway.”

  “What do you mean?” said Sarzen, looking at the Slayer in hope. “I thought that the Draymens always kill their victims.”

  “Not recently,” said the Slayer. “In recent years, the Draymens have been kidnapping mages. Your sister was one, right?”

  “How did you know?” said Sarzen in surprise. “I didn’t tell you that.”

  “I’ve been following you guys for a while now,” said the Slayer. “You can learn a lot just by observing. Anyway, like I said, the Draymens have been turning mages into slaves for some reason, rather than killing them outright. I suspect it’s to weaken our defenses, because mages are the single biggest threat to the Draymens and they know it.”

  “Wait, you’ve been following us?” said Rothel. “When? Why? And for how long?”

  “Since Sinmo,” said the Slayer. “I heard on the grapevine that the Elect had sent some people to find the Dragon Gods, so I decided to follow you and see if you guys were the real deal. I was the reason you weren’t attacked by any Draymens after Sinmo, by the way; I killed the ones tailing you, though I guess I didn’t get them all.”

  “You mean we were being followed by Draymens and we didn’t even know?” said Sarzen.

  “Of course,” said the Slayer. “Don’t feel too bad, though. The Draymens are sneaky and most people don’t realize when they’re being followed until it’s too late. Even I have been jumped a few times, though I have enough experience with them now to know when the bastards are following me.”

  “Still doesn’t explain why, though,” said Rothel.

  “Probably because they know about your quest,” said the Slayer. “They were probably hoping to slaughter you all in one night to keep you from finding the Dragon Gods.”

  “You mean we are on the right track after all?” said Sarzen. “Do you know where the Dragon Gods are?”

  “No,” said the Slayer bluntly. “And I don’t care to know, either. But the fact is that the Draymens remember who drove them out of Yores the first time and they don’t want a repeat of that.”

  “But they kidnapped Helnia, rather than kill us,” said Sarzen. “Why would they do that?”

  “Probably because I helped you,” said the Slayer. He hefted his ax. “They really don’t like me very much, because I’m one of the few humans who regularly takes them on and not only survives, but beats them soundly.”

  “Where did they take her?” said Sarzen. “Do you know?”

  “I don’t know the exact location, but I imagine they probably took her across the border into one of their slave towns,” said the Slayer. “That’s usually where they take human slaves.”

  “What’s a slave town?” said Rothel, tilting his head to the side in confusion. “I’ve never heard of that.”

  “They’re towns that are filled with human slaves and usually ruled by a small family of Draymens,” said the Slayer. “There aren’t many in Yores, though their numbers are growing. I’ve seen a few myself. They’re about as nice as they sound.”

  “Then we must find this slave town and invade it,” said Sarzen. He grimaced at the pain in his hand, however, before he could move and held his hand close to his chest.

  “Ah, you need that healed,” said the Slayer.

  Before Sarzen could respond, the Slayer pointed his ax at Sarzen’s hand. A small, but bright yellow light enveloped Sarzen’s hand for a second before it faded, revealing that Sarzen’s cut had been healed and his hand no longer hurt.

  “What?” said Sarzen. He turned his hand over, checking every inch of it to make sure it was still his hand. “What … how did you do that? Are you a mage?”

  The Slayer shook his head as he lowered his ax by his side. “No. My ax merely has the ability to heal minor wounds. If you had been stabbed in the head, for example, I wouldn’t have been able to heal that.”

  “You mean that your ax doesn’t use Raugus?” said Rothel in surprise. “At all?”

  “Yes,” said the Slayer. “It’s very convenient that way.”

  “Impossible,” said Rothel. He tugged at his own necklace of magic beads. “You can only use magic if you are wearing a necklace with magic beads full of Raugus energy. Your ax must have some Raugus flowing i
n it or something.”

  “No, it doesn’t,” said the Slayer, shaking his head. “It’s just the way it works because it was created by the Dragon Gods themselves.”

  “Then that means that you are the Warrior of Light from the old stories,” said Sarzen, clapping his hands together in excitement. “Right?”

  “No,” said the Slayer in a deadpan voice. “I never said the Dragon Gods gave me this ax. Just that they created it.”

  “Where did you find it, then?” said Sarzen. “The old stories say that the ax was lost after the Draymens were driven out of Yores.”

  “Where I found it is none of your business,” said the Slayer. “If you keep asking me about it, I’m just going to leave you and your friends here to save your sister yourself.”

  “Okay, okay, I won’t ask more questions about it,” said Sarzen, though secretly he was already making plans to interrogate the Slayer about it later, after they saved Helnia. “But are you implying that you are going to help us save Helnia?”

  “Yes,” said the Slayer, nodding. “As much as I hate the Dragon Gods, I hate the Draymens even more. If they took her to a slave town, then that is even more reason to help you.”

  “Oh,” said Sarzen. “I’m happy you’re helping, but at the same time, I didn’t think you wanted to help the Dragon Gods.”

  The Slayer shrugged. “I don’t care one way or another if you find the Dragon Gods or not. The fact that the Draymens hate and have been trying to stop you is reason enough for me to ally with you, however briefly. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, after all.”

  Despite the grim situation, Sarzen could not help but smile. “Good. Then let’s leave quickly. Maybe if we are quick, we will be able to catch up with the Draymens before they reach the slave town where they are taking Helnia.”

  ***

  Chapter Nineteen

  Helnia’s eyes opened. She immediately found herself staring into light streaming in from a window, causing her to cover her eyes with one hand to shade them from the light. She blinked her eyes rapidly, her eyes which were starting to tear up thanks to the light.

  By the Dragon Gods, why do I feel like I hit my head against a rock wall? Helnia thought. She rubbed the back of her head. I feel like I didn’t get any sleep last night.

  Then Helnia suddenly felt a cold draft blow through a crack in the nearby wall, causing her to shiver involuntarily, which was how she discovered that she was naked.

  Well, not actually naked, but she was no longer in her mage’s robes. Instead, she was wearing a very skimpy, sleeveless shirt, along with a pair of rough leather pants that had a lot of holes in them. She sat up, wrapping her arms around herself as she attempted to retain as much heat as she could, but her new clothes were just not sufficient to keep her warm.

  Helnia looked around at the room she had awoken in. It was more like a small shack than a room; in fact, as far as Helnia could tell, that’s exactly what it was. The walls were made of old, almost rotten wood, though the door appeared to be made of sterner stuff. The floor was dirt, with only some hay to sleep on, hay that clung to Helnia’s body and hair. She pulled a piece of muddy hay out of her hair and looked at it in disgust.

  What am I doing here? Helnia thought. Where am—

  Then Helnia suddenly remembered. She and the others had been ambushed by the Draymens during the night. They had tried to fight them off, but one of the Draymens grabbed her and ran. The last thing Helnia remembered was screaming for help before being hit over the head with something thick and heavy. That explained why her head hurt, at least.

  But that didn’t explain where Helnia was. Or what happened to her clothes. Even her shoes were missing; she was now barefoot, a sight that made her shudder because she hated how her feet looked.

  Don’t panic, Helnia, Helnia thought as she started to feel her neck. As long as you have your necklace, you should be able to—

  Helnia froze. She did not feel her necklace on her neck.

  It was gone. Her necklace—her only method of defense—had vanished.

  No, not vanished. Stolen. Someone had stolen it from her. And she knew who: the Draymens. Most likely, they had taken away her necklace when they kidnapped her. They had probably taken it from her so she couldn’t save herself from them.

  The knowledge that Helnia was alone and vulnerable almost made her cry. But she did not allow herself to. She just shivered again from another cold draft and pulled her legs up to her chest as she tried to stay warm.

  This can’t be happening, Helnia thought, rocking back and forth on the ground. Where is Sarzen? And Rothel? And the others? Where am I? Are they even still alive or did the Draymens kill them?

  Helnia looked up at the door. She stood up to open it, because she was going to try to escape and find the others, but then the door opened on its own.

  Standing in the doorway was the ugliest Draymens Helnia had ever seen in her life. He was short and bulky, with a pig-like face that was sickening even just to look at. He wore patched together battle armor and smelled like crap, carrying a sword at his side that was as short and bulky as him.

  Helnia instinctively backed up against the back wall of the shack, her heart beating fast and sweat starting to accumulate on her face despite the cold. Her feelings of defenselessness and vulnerability spiked and she thought she was just going to die there and then from fear alone.

  The Draymens did not seem to notice. He just entered the shack, making low snorting noises, and that was when Helnia noticed the chains in his hands.

  Before Helnia could react, the Draymens grabbed her arm and forced her down on her hands and knees. Too scared to do anything, Helnia just lay there on the ground while the Draymens clamped heavy, tight shackles on her wrists and ankles and neck and connected them with the chains he carried in his hands. The stink of his body was right in Helnia’s nostrils the whole time, but she did not throw up or say anything because she was afraid that the Draymens would harm her if she did.

  Once the Draymens finished, it stood up and yanked on the chain. Helnia stood up reluctantly and said, her voice high with fear, “What are you going to do with me? Where am I?”

  The Draymens either did not understand what she had said or did not care to answer, because it just turned around and walked out of the shack. It yanked the chain again, causing Helnia to stagger after him and then stand upright as she followed him, being careful not to trip over the rocks poking out of the ground.

  Now Helnia finally got to see where they were: It was a town of some sort. In every direction, she saw dozens of small, one-room shacks that looked just like her own. They all appeared to be built out of similar materials, though a few looked so old and decrepit that they would probably fall over if a strong enough gust of wind blew through at the right moment.

  Nor was Helnia the only human in the place. She saw other humans wearing clothes similar to hers; men, women, and children of a variety of ages. Some of them were carrying large boxes that appeared to be full of rocks on their backs, while others were being led along like dogs by other Draymens. Even the little children were being forced to carry large boxes of supplies; Helnia watched as a little boy, who couldn’t have been older than six, set down his box for a moment, perhaps tired from the work, only to be slapped in the face by his Draymens master so viciously that he fell onto the ground and did not get up again, though none of the other humans came to see if he was okay.

  That was when Helnia realized where she was: A Draymens slave camp. She was looking at other human slaves and their Draymens masters.

  But if this is a slave camp and I am being held here against my will, then doesn’t that mean that I’m a slave, too? Helnia thought.

  Instantly, Helnia reached for the collar around her neck and tried to pull it off, but it was too thick and heavy for her to even budge. Her slaver, however, noticed her fruitless attempts to remove her collar and yanked her chain again, causing her to almost stumble over her feet before she regained her balance and
resumed following the Draymens, this time more quietly than before.

  When Helnia looked up at the sky, she saw that it was much darker than it should have been, as if it was perpetual evening here. She was in the Cursed Lands, but she didn’t know how deep into them or how long she had been here. Nor did she know where Sarzen and the others were. She hoped they would be able to save her, because it was obvious that she would not save herself.

  None of the human slaves Helnia and her slaver passed spoke to Helnia. They didn’t even meet her gaze or look at her. Helnia assumed that that was because of their own masters; perhaps they were afraid that if they acknowledged her existence, their masters would beat or even kill them.

  Helnia’s own ‘master’ (she hated thinking of him that way) barely paid her much attention. He just led her through the narrow dirt ‘streets’ of the camp until they arrived at what appeared to be a work site of some sort. The camp was located on a hill and at the bottom of the hill were hundreds of slaves, armed with picks, excavating rocks from the earth and placing them into carts, which were then pulled away by even more slaves, though where they were being transported to, she didn’t know.

  Helnia was surprised when she saw it. She had assumed that the Draymens were little more than dumb beasts, uncivilized barbarians who could only kill and destroy, but this was clearly a complicated quarry system, something she would expect a human warlord to come up with. It made her question her own assumptions regarding the intelligence of the Draymens, but it also made her wonder what the Draymens were using the mined rock for. Were they building something? If so, what?

  Helnia did not have much time to ponder those questions, however, because her ‘master’ yanked her chain again, leading her down the hill to the nearest group of slaves who were breaking apart rock. The ground was rough and uneven, with sharp rocks sticking out of the dirt, which Helnia felt with every step. It made her jealous of her master’s boots, which looked thick enough to protect his feet from getting cut up by the rocks.

 

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