“You’ll get it, but be patient,” the man snickered. “We’ll get him when he’s got nothing left in him. How far do you think he can run with Cisil on his back?”
“What if he kills him before then?”
“He gave us his word.”
“So?”
“So he’ll let him go.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
“He will. He’s ain’t like us, you know? He’s gonna do the honorable thing,” the guard chuckled.
“You sure about that?”
“The only thing I know for sure is that if we go after him now, he’ll kill him. So we wait till sunrise. It ain’t far off now.”
“Then we’ll get him!”
The young Duke in the meantime, had already left the Nekryans far behind and even though Cisil’s limp body slung over his shoulders slowed him considerably, he trekked on. The only visible sign of the tremendous strain and pressure his body was under were the bulging veins on his neck, arms and forehead.
Although he was twice as powerful as an average man and his muscles had turned to steel during the strenuous work in the mines, Iskald quickly felt fatigue creeping into his weary limbs. His body was exhausted, he was hungry and desperately needed to rest; the young Duke realized soon that the task he had on hand was more than he could handle.
There was no turning back, he thought. He saw himself as having three options: he could leave Cisil and try to vanish in the Chenschung Forest; kill him and then try to escape; or keep the guard for as long as the Nekryans were on his trail. The most tempting option was to strangle the hated guard and to disappear into the thick woods.
Since the Nekryans managed to track him down once, however, they could do it again, and they would be more inclined to continue the pursuit if he murdered the keeper. They would be afraid to return to Isla without him. As long as he had Cisil with him, Iskald was sure that the Nekryans would not dare touch him; but how long could he continue to carry the heavy guard?
Cisil would not go with him willingly. Iskald’s mind worked intensely as he dashed through the forest, but the more ground he covered and the more he thought about it, the more he realized that none of the options available were any good. The most reasonable thing to do would be to leave Cisil and vanish.
But how could he? After all that the man put him through, after two years of torment and torture; after all that the man had done to other poor wretches locked up in the mines, how could he just let him go? How would he live with himself knowing that he had allowed Cisil to live, that he allowed him to go back to torment and kill others? Cisil could not be allowed to live anymore, Iskald thought to himself, as he clenched his teeth and took another step and another, and another.
Soon it was sunrise, and the forest slowly came to life with the chirping of the birds and the mocking shrieks of monkeys hovering in the trees above; daylight slowly turned the broody darkness into a joyous green. Iskald hardly noticed any of these changes. He realized that the Nekryans, even if they had kept their word, were already long on his trail and probably gaining on him. He was again tempted to dump the unconscious guard into the bushes and run on, free of the terrible weight.
Iskald resisted the urge one more time. He was tired though, he was so tired, he had to stop and rest. His legs were shaking and he could hardly walk anymore, let alone run. Putting Cisil down under a tree with a tremendous sigh of relief, Iskald collapsed into the tall grass and closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to sleep; his body demanded it.
Before he even closed his eyes, however, Iskald heard a stir. He opened his eyes quickly and realized that the Nekryan was slowly coming to. The young Duke scrambled to his feet and searched the man’s pockets in a hurry; then he unbuckled his pants and used his belt to tie the guard up.
Just as he was finishing, Cisil completely regained consciousness. His one good eye opened up a little bit, he tried to move, but could not because Iskald had made sure to tie him down well.
“What’s happenin’? Where am I?” Cisil groaned as he lifted his eyelid.
Then he spotted Iskald sitting a few paces away. His eye opened immediately, and he shook his head in disbelief. His face flushed with uncontrollable anger as he tried to spring toward the young man.
“Iskald!” Cisil growled. “Cut me loose, ya littl’ maggot!”
The Duke ignored the guard’s demand and turning his head towards the direction they came from, he listened to the sounds coming from the forest. He was expecting to hear the Nekryan party coming soon and he wanted to get a head start.
“Cut me loose, goddamn it!”
“Shut up,” Iskald responded this time, but still quite calmly.
Cisil did not reply immediately, but not because he sensed the hint of threat in the young man’s solemn remark, but simply because he could not believe that a slave had spoken to him in such a plain manner.
“Ya littl’ scallywag, ya don’t tell me to shut my mouth, ya goddamned filth, y’ain’t nuttin’ but a damn slave! Cut me loose right now, or when my men come about, I’ll have ya flogged till ya’ll beg me to kill ya! I’ll have them tear the flesh away from yor bones bit by littl’ bit!”
Iskald drew his knife and cut a piece of cloth from Cisil’s garment. He waited for the guard to open his mouth again and then he shoved the cloth into his mouth. So much hatred and anger was hidden behind this gesture that Iskald could hardly control his arm and pushed the cloth almost down the Nekryan’s throat.
“Don’t choke on it, you bastard,” he hissed. “I need you alive.”
He jumped to his feet at the sound of branches breaking and several voices drawing nearer. Cisil heard them too and tried to shout, but all he managed to utter was indistinguishable low noises. Iskald smiled with satisfaction, snatched the heavy man by his arms and legs, and slung him across his back once more. The veins on his neck and arms bulged under the guard’s weight and his knees buckled.
For a moment Iskald thought he would not be able to take a step forward, but then he overcame the weakness and stumbled on. Every muscle of his young body was strained to its limits, but he forced himself to pick up the pace as he heard more voices approaching. His legs were heavy as he stumbled forward, crashing through the bushes and smaller trees, levelling everything in his path.
It was all in vain, though, he knew it. He could not outrun the numerous Nekryans who were better rested and free of weight. Behind him, Iskald could already hear their shouts and screams and he realized that they spotted him running through the forest. The woods trembled under their heavy feet as they gave chase.
Iskald cursed under his breath as he entered a clearing in the forest. An ancient oak stood erect in its middle. He quickly devised a plan in his head, one that was desperate at best, but one that could ultimately ensure his survival. Reaching the tree with the last bit of strength, Iskald climbed the lowest of the oak’s limbs and pulled the struggling guard up beside him.
He managed to reach the higher branches when the Nekryans entered the clearing and surrounded the tree screaming and howling. Amidst the noise, some of them already climbed after Iskald while others prepared their bows and pointed arrows in his direction. The scene was chaotic and it seemed as if nothing would save the young Duke now. In desperation, Iskald cried out:
“Stop! Get away from the tree or Cisil gets a blade in his throat!”
The Nekryans stopped in half step and grew quiet. They looked up to see Iskald pressing the tip of the knife against Cisil’s skin.
“Ten paces back, all of you!” Iskald shouted again.
The clearing was then plunged into heavy silence. The young Duke could hear his heart beating loudly and he swore he could hear the Nekryans’ teeth grinding in anger.
“You little son of a bitch!” The same Nekryan who conversed with him earlier stepped forward. “You said you would let him go!”
“I lied.”
The man bared his teeth in an evil smile.
“You’ll pay for that. I’ll have your tongue ripped out!”
Iskald shrugged while the Nekryan turned and called his men. He said a few things to them, pointed at the tree, and the men nodded and quickly dispersed to surround the clearing. The lead Nekryan turned back to Iskald.
“Let Cisil go!” he said.
“No.”
“Let him go and we’ll let you live.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Cut him loose.”
“I don’t trust you. I’ll cut him loose and turn around only to find a dozen arrows stuck in my back. I’ll manage without your offers.”
“What do you want then?”
“Let me walk!”
“Now you’re joking.”
“Let me walk and tell Isla you killed me!”
“He’d want to see your head.”
“Figure something out.”
“No.”
“Let me walk or I’ll kill Cisil”
“No, you won’t,” the Nekryan grinned.
“You’re sure about that?”
“You’ve been threatening to kill him since this morning and you still haven’t done it. Why would you do it now when we have you within our reach? Your best chance is to let him go, climb down from there and hope that you’ll find us forgiving.”
“Now look who’s joking.”
“You’re surrounded, kid, give up! You ain’t got anywhere to go!”
“No!” Iskald’s answer was final.
“Suit yourself,” the Nekryan shrugged his shoulders. “You can’t stay awake forever. We’ll wait till you starve or pass out and fall out of that damn tree!”
Having said that he turned around and walked toward the forest, leaving Iskald alone with his thoughts. No one bothered him anymore. The clearing was quiet and only occasionally did the young Duke hear the Nekryans whisper something to one another. The sun sluggishly traversed the sky and the day passed slowly. It was a hot day, too, but Iskald was comfortable sitting in the great oak, shielded from sunlight.
As the evening approached, Iskald grew anxious. He could see no way out of the situation, and time was quickly running out. Although the Nekryan did not admit to it, it was obvious that the guards would rush the tree as soon as it was dark enough. He would not be able to defend himself then, not even using Cisil as a shield.
Besides, he could threaten them with killing the man only so far. The Nekryans were not going away simply because he put a knife to Cisil’s throat. That only bought him some time, but that was it, that was as far as the threat would carry. He would inevitably fall back into the Nekryans’ hands, and then Cisil would pay him back for today’s humiliation. The young Duke closed his eyes and sighed deeply, weighted down by the harsh truth.
Knowing Cisil as well as he did, Iskald realized that he would not live through the sort of treatment that the sadistic guard would subject him to. Cisil did not forget nor did he forgive. And it was only a matter of time until his men would cut him loose.
He gazed at the hated guard who glared back at him with his good eye. Without saying anything Iskald stripped him off his stained vest and cut it up into long, thin pieces. After tying them together, he held in his hands a strong rope which he then ended with a noose. The Nekryan looked on with confusion. Dread appeared in his eyes for the first time, perhaps since the executioner marked his face with fire, or perhaps ever.
When it grew dark, the young Duke carefully judged the distance from the ground and then tied the free end of the rope to one of the boughs above him. The noose he placed around Cisil’s neck. Then he smiled and gave the guard a friendly pat on the back. The Nekryan could not say anything because of the gag in his mouth, but his gaze was pleading and fearful. Iskald was not about to change his mind, though.
“Remember all those times you beat me, remember all those times?” he hissed into the guard’s ear. “Remember all those boys you killed and maimed?”
Cisil struggled to set himself free. His eyes filled with terrible dread. Grabbing his arm Iskald held him still and waited, he waited for the right moment. When the sun hid behind the trees, the lead Nekryan approached the tree again.
“You coming down?” he asked calmly.
Iskald tightened the noose on Cisil’s neck and whispered:
“I’ll see you in hell!”
“You give up?” the Nekryan’s voice grew impatient.
Cisil fought for his life, but was no match for Iskald, especially as he was tied and gagged. With relative ease, the young Duke pushed the heavy guard off the bough on which they rested. The Nekryan’ struggling body crashed through several branches on the way down but before his feet touched the ground, the strong rope abruptly stopped his fall.
In the stillness of the falling night everyone heard clearly the disgusting sound of a neck snapped. Cisil kicked the air a few times and then hung motionless.
For a short while everything was quiet. The Nekryans looked on with disbelief, fixing their eyes on Cisil’s body hanging a few hands’ breadths above the ground. His head dropped to his chest and he looked still and peaceful in the stillness of the night, rocking back and forth as if moved by an invisible hand.
Then the Nekryans came to their senses, screamed at the top of their lungs and rushed the tree. Iskald was ready for this; if he was to die on this day, at least he would put up a good fight. A few of the Nekryans he managed to push off the tree with his legs, several others he stabbed with the knife. The leader’s voice reached him over the clatter:
“Take ’im alive! Alive!”
One Nekryan grabbed Iskald’s foot and pulled him down violently. The young Duke had no time to even open his mouth to scream. He hit the ground after a short fall and groaned painfully. He tried to rise but someone pushed his face back into the ground. He felt someone stepping on his neck, another one twisting his arms behind his back, someone else kicking him in the ribs...
To be continued...
Copyright © 2008 by Slawomir Rapala
