by Mark McCabe
Though Sara had howled and screeched and begged and cajoled, none of it had any effect. In the end, though they clearly didn’t relish going to such lengths, she had given them little choice but to gag and bind her and put her up on to Nell so that Tug and his cronies could lead her away.
She could see that the senior Ranger had misgivings about the whole affair. He clearly wasn’t at all comfortable with the idea of binding her. But she only had herself to blame. And what could he do anyway? To defy the wishes of a Guardian would clearly be a courageous step for anyone, let alone a mere captain of the Rangers.
And so she had been led away to her doom. Tug had been all sweetness and light while the Rangers were around, but soon as they were out of sight he had given her a beating the likes of which she would probably never forget. And he had got the result he wanted. He had cowed her into submission.
She hadn’t given a single thought to escape since that night. Tug had told her that if she made even the slightest attempt to disobey him again he would take to her with a knife the next time, said he was just itching for an excuse to pay her back for what she had done to him and Ruz.
Sara had no doubt that if she dared to cross him again he would carry out his threat. Though she had been scared of him from the night she had first met him, he only had to look at her now and she swore her heart stopped beating. She had a horrible feeling he was going to do something very bad to her before he got her back to Golkar. All she could do was try not to give him an excuse.
She had learnt an important lesson that night, one that few people ever came to understand, no matter how long they lived. Courage was a finite resource. One could be brave in the face of adversity, not just once, but many times. Eventually, the drain on your spirit took its toll, however. At some point it simply ran out; the well ran dry. Sara knew she had reached that point that night when Tug had beaten her. She had used up a lifetime’s amount of bravery over the last few weeks and, finally, she had exhausted her stock.
So here they were, trudging the long miles back to where her nightmare had started. Having made good speed going back through the farming country she and Rayne had crossed only a few days previously, they weren’t far from the wilderness now. The signs of habitation were clearly beginning to diminish and Sara knew that before long they would be back among the towering beech trees again. From the talk she had overheard, she knew that Tug and his men would be glad of that. They were anxious to be clear of Algarian territory. They clearly didn’t enjoy explaining themselves over and over again to the people they encountered along the way.
She had to admire the Algarians though. It would only have been natural for no one to want to get involved in her predicament. To her surprise, however, there weren’t many that were prepared to watch three men lead a bound girl past them without challenging them. Quite often, it was only the token the Ranger captain had given Tug and his men that finally convinced people their actions were sanctioned by the Rangers themselves. Unfortunately for Sara, or perhaps, fortunately, for she knew that Tug and his men would have dealt ruthlessly with anyone who tried to hinder them, that was enough to silence even the most doubtful.
Turning her head slightly, Sara considered the larger of Tug’s two companions. He was riding along beside her at the moment. Though her hands were bound, and Nell herself was being led by a rope attached to Tug’s saddle, they kept a close eye on her at all times. This one’s task was to ride beside her and make sure that she didn’t try anything foolish.
Ter the others called him. Sara had already determined that he was as nasty a piece of business as Tug was. Though he looked like a big, harmless oaf, she knew that his heart was black. She shuddered as she remembered how he had sat opposite her at their camp the previous night. He had taken great delight in telling her in graphic detail just what he would have done to Rayne if he had been able to. She had nearly thrown up she had been so sickened by what he had said.
Apparently, the man Rayne had shot with his bow at the top of the falls had been Ter’s brother, and Ter was burning up with frustration at being denied the opportunity to avenge his death. It didn’t seem to matter in the slightest that his brother had tried to kill Rayne first. Ter just wanted his chance for revenge.
Luckily, the Rangers had refused to hand Rayne over to them, insisting he would have to answer to an Algarian magistrate for what he had done, albeit one at the capital given Golkar’s involvement in the matter. Sara guessed that their reaction would have been the same even if the charge had been murder. If Golkar hadn’t been involved, though, it was hard to see how they would even have bothered with arresting him. They would have probably just sent him on his way with a warning of some kind.
Ter was obviously none too happy with all of that. By way of recompense, he seemed to get some sort of sick pleasure out of terrifying Sara. So far, he had not only succeeded in achieving his aim but also in confirming her belief that Rayne was better off where he was. Whatever would happen to him in Keerêt, at least he would live to tell the tale.
What an evil crew they were, thought Sara. She wondered how in the world Golkar could maintain his façade as protector of Ilythia with a gang of cutthroats like these working for him. Maybe it was fear that provided him with the cover he needed, that and his remoteness from the average Ilythian. The Rangers at Novistor were certainly not of a mind to question his authority. Though they had demanded proof that Tug was really what he said he was, when he had shown them the ring with the wizard’s crest on it they had accepted its authenticity without question. Sara doubted whether any of them even knew what Golkar’s seal looked like. She wouldn’t have thought it was the kind of thing many people had ever seen. It didn’t matter though; the mere claim that the ring was his token had been enough to silence their doubts.
In any event, by her own admission Tug and his men were what they said they were, representatives of Golkar. She only realised later that she might have fared better if she had protested the whole thing had nothing to do with a Guardian. The Rangers would have been left in a quandary then and might have had to refer the matter up to a higher authority. Maybe someone with more clout would have demanded more proof that she was who they said she was before they would have been willing to hand her over to them. That might have then gained her and Rayne sufficient time to find a way out of their predicament.
Maybe. What good were ‘maybes’ now, thought Sara. It was over and that was all there was to it. All she could hope for now was a swift and painless death. Sara couldn’t stop the tears that flowed down her cheeks at the thought. She had been trying not to think about what was ahead of her. It’s all very fine to be brave, she thought, like in all the stories, but I’m scared. I just want all this to never have happened. I want Rayne to be safe. And I want to go home.
“Quit your blubbering,” snarled the man riding beside her. “I can’t stand that snivellin. Makes me wanna puke.” As if to emphasise his point, he leaned over and spat on the ground between their two horses. Sara could feel her stomach knotting up as the villain turned his attention to her. Just the sound of his voice made her heart race, and she knew that goosebumps were coming up all over the bare skin of her arms.
“Wait till we git you back to Golkar,” he continued, almost spitting the words at her. “Then you’ll have somethin’ to bawl about.” His last comment was followed by a wicked laugh. “Aint that right, Rew?” he called out, having a good chuckle to himself. “Golkar’ll give her somethin to blubber about, won’t he Rew?”
“Reckon he will.”
Ter’s companion’s deadpan response came from somewhere behind Sara. The skinny one didn’t seem to get the same pleasure that the bigger one did from baiting her. He had a more sinister side to him, however.
It seemed to Sara that almost every time she had glanced at the man since then she had caught him staring back at her. To her mind, he was far and away the creepiest of the three. ‘Watch out for the silent ones’, isn’t that how the saying goes? Well, w
hatever thoughts he did have about her he certainly kept them to himself. And a good thing too thought Sara. She had a good idea she would be much better off not knowing what was going on in his sinkhole of a mind.
Glancing around at her surroundings, Sara made a concerted effort to shrug of her depressing thoughts, both of her captors and of the terrible prospects ahead of her. The road they were travelling on, she noticed, was the same one she and Rayne had followed when they had finally broken free of the wilderness. She wondered what had become of the boy whose father had left him in charge of the household while he had gone off to join the war. They weren’t far now from where they had met him. She hoped that he had followed Rayne’s advice about being ready to leave at a moment’s notice.
As her mind wandered, Tug’s voice brought her thoughts abruptly back to the present. “Company,” he called out from his position at the front of their group. “A lot of company by the look of it.”
The tone of his voice bore the clear message that his two companions should be ready for any eventuality. Sara didn’t really see what they had to worry about. At most, they would face more awkward questions. Though she was no longer gagged, her fear of Tug ensured that she dare not say a word against them.
Before long, a troop of mounted men appeared from out of a cloud of dust on the road ahead. At first, Sara thought that they must be Rangers. That thought was quickly dispelled, however. Though they were armed, some of them bore lances, others had bows strung across their backs, and all seemed to have swords strapped to their waists, they clearly lacked the more rigid discipline of regular soldiers. Nor could she see any sign of the distinctive brown and green garb she had come to associate with the Algarian Rangers.
As they drew level with Sara and her captors, the leading men of the group drew rein on their horses and within a few moments, the whole troop had drawn to a halt and all eyes were turned to Sara and her three fellow travellers. Now that they were so close, Sara could see that there were a dozen or so of them, most of them barely more than lads, though there were two or three that looked to be older than all of the rest.
“Ho there,” cried Tug, obviously wanting to seize the initiative. “Where are you bound for lads?”
Just as with the Rangers at Novistor, he seemed to be able to turn on the charm, or at least put on its mask, whenever it was required. It was so at odds with his true persona that Sara couldn’t understand how people were so easily taken in by it. They were though, that was clear, and she saw no reason why this conversation would prove any different from all of the others.
“We’re on our way to Keerêt,” responded a tall bearded man from the second rank, one of the few older men in the group. Sara guessed he would be about forty or so, perhaps a touch younger. She also noted the way the other men turned to him as soon as Tug had spoken. It seemed he was their leader, or at least their spokesperson.
“We’ve come up from the Marches to help in the war,” the man continued. “Where are you off to? From what I hear, the Algarians need every man they can get at the front. You seem to be headed in the wrong direction. And might I ask, why have you bound that girl? Surely three burly men like you don’t need measures like that for a slip of a thing like her. What’s she done and where are you taking her?”
“I wish I had a crown for the number of times I’ve had to explain that today,” answered Tug in an exasperated tone. “This so-called slip of a girl is a runaway, if you must know, and she’s led us a pretty chase. Her father is man-servant to the Guardian, Golkar.”
At the mention of the wizard’s name, Sara could see that her assessment of the situation had been an accurate one. These men would be no different to the rest of the people they had met since they had left Novistor. Many of them raised their eyebrows at the mention of Golkar’s name and she saw a number of them exchanging glances. His name was like a talisman just by itself.
“About two weeks or so back,” continued Tug, “she ran off with a young Marcher lad who turned her head with his slick words. Her father’s been worried sick ever since. We caught up with them in Novistor where the Rangers handed ‘em over to us. As you can see, the young lass is of a mind not to go back home. She still thinks she’s in love.” At this, he gave a little chuckle, as if to say, ‘you know what young girls are like’.
“The young lad quite turned her head,” Tug continued when the man said nothing in response, “and I daresay they’ve been up to a bit of mischief together, if you know what I mean.”
Sara saw Tug wink at the man as he finished speaking and she felt a blush come over her face. Her predicament was so demeaning. To have Tug mock her like this in front of strangers when she knew she could do nothing to defend herself just added to her misery. It was enough to be in the mess she was without everyone being led to think she was some back-woods slut who couldn’t manage to keep her pants up.
When Tug got nothing but a blank response to his comments from the Marcher leader, he continued. “If we didn’t bind her, she’d run away again at the first opportunity.”
The man Tug had been speaking to idled his horse closer to Sara and gave her a searching look. Sara kept her eyes down. She dare not look at him. She knew that Tug was watching her closely. In any event, it wouldn’t matter what she said, or did. In the end, Tug would produce the Ranger’s token, or if needs be, the ring that marked him as an aide of Golkar’s, and these men would acquiesce just like everyone else had. It would do no one any good, least of all her, for her to say anything to contradict the draghar’s story.
“Are you all right Miss?” asked the man in a voice that was soft and full of concern.
Sara nodded ever so slightly in reply, fighting to keep her feelings in check as she did so. She knew that she was trembling but she didn’t know how to calm her nerves. She dare not open her mouth. She was sure she couldn’t do so without betraying her seething emotions.
“Is what he says true, Miss?” the man pressed when she continued to remain silent.
Sara fought to control the feelings that were boiling within her. This was her chance. There were more of them than her captors. If she poured her story out to them, they might help her. It was clear their leader was concerned about her. What was she waiting for?
After the briefest of pauses, Sara knew that the decision she had made earlier must stand. Her courage was gone. It would do her no good to cause trouble anyway, she would never convince them she was telling the truth. More importantly, she couldn’t bear to face what Tug would do to her afterwards. Her only response to the man’s question was to lower her head even further and remain silent. She felt so deeply ashamed. Rayne would have had more courage than this. She was a coward. She sniffled, turning her head to one side in an attempt to wipe her nose against her shoulder as she did so.
“She’ll be all right once she gets back home to her father,” said Tug when Sara remained silent. “Right now, I think she’s thinking of what he’ll say to her when she gets back home. Deep down, I’m sure she knows she’s betrayed his trust. I thank you for your concern though. May Mishra ride at your shoulder, Sir. We must be on our way. We’ve a long way to travel. Good day to you.”
With that Tug kicked his horse into a trot and Nell dutifully followed his lead. As they moved forward, Sara turned and cast a final glance behind her. She feared that the group of men they were leaving in their wake had been her last hope.
As the distance between the two groups grew, Sara could see that the man who had spoken to them was still watching her. She managed to smile wanly back at him, then forced herself to turn away. There are still some kind people in this world, she thought. I mustn’t forget that.
Chapter 8
It was some time later that they pulled away from the road and set up a camp amongst a copse of trees, far enough from the road to avoid attention from anyone who happened still to be on the road at such a late hour. Once they had eaten a small meal, and her captors had sat around talking quietly amongst themselves for some time, T
er had been assigned the first watch and the rest of them had settled down in their bedding. Sara, of course, was still bound, but somehow managed to get into a position where she thought that sleep might be possible. If she could stop her mind from running, that is.
A million thoughts crowded her mind, each demanding its place. She thought back to the days of her captivity, when Ruz and Tug had been her jailors. She remembered how she had given up hope when they had thrown her into that cell, and how she had eventually rekindled that hope, how she had fought back and broken free. It had all been futile though. She saw that now. It had achieved nothing.
Nothing, that is, unless you counted the death of Josef, possibly of Ruz, of those two men from the settlement, and of Ter’s brother. What was that? Five people, five deaths that wouldn’t have occurred if she had just accepted her fate. And then, of course, there was Rayne. Where had all this got him? He had wanted to join the Rangers, not get arrested by them. What would that do to him? What kind of future could there be for him now?
Those were certainly achievements, she thought bitterly; achievements only she could accept responsibility for. And, for all her efforts, she would soon be right back where she started from anyway. So much for fighting the good fight. She had fought, but at what cost? Fighting back had only dragged others into her nightmare. It was useless to try and fight them. Besides, even if she could find the will to fight any more, she couldn’t do it alone, not against all three of them. Just one of these cutthroats would be more than she could handle by herself.
And where could she hope to turn for help here in the wilderness? As Rayne had once said to her, the people she was likely to run into here were likely to be just as bad as Tug and his friends, if not in league with them. And what could escape mean here, in any event? Where could she go? How could she find her way out of the wilderness? And what of the sligs? Were they out there still, searching for her? Escape from Tug, even if it were possible, might only leave her at the mercy of hunters far worse than him. Surely the concept of escape was dependent on there being somewhere or someone to escape to. No. She had made that mistake once already. It would be pointless to try and repeat it.