“Horses?” I scanned the woods and the trail ahead of us and behind us. Another touchdown of lightning revealed five distinct shapes a couple of miles to our rear. Men on horseback? Whatever they were, they drew closer with every breath I took.
We continued walking, more briskly than before, and I frequently peered over my shoulder to watch the approaching silhouettes. They galloped at top speed, and I couldn’t help but wonder why they moved so quickly. I strained to make out their features. From the width of their shoulders and the posture they assumed I was confident they were all men, but I was unable to ascertain much more. Their faces were marred by the hazy cloud of brown dirt being kicked up around them and from the overall shadow of the dull gray sky.
Lilley pulled me along, not sharing in my concern or my curiosity. She wasn’t done with her inquisition. She continued drilling me about the savages but I had trouble keeping up with the conversation. The constant sound of the horses’ feet pounding the dirt continued to strengthen. On my fifth or sixth peek, I recognized them. I gulped and my heart began to race.
The savages?
My body immediately froze and rooted to the dirt we stood upon. They were quickly closing in on us. Jays, crows and pearl-blue robins cried and sprang noisily from the trees around us as if they’d been startled from their hiding places. Lilley stared up at me, wide-eyed, concern blatantly building inside of her.
“Meme?”
I looked away, making eye contact with one of the savages—the handsome blond I had noticed earlier. He drew his sword from his scabbard and raised it up and over his head. His face grew tight and it blazed with anger. The feeling of sheer, utter dread filled my body so completely it became difficult to breathe. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, and my body and mouth simultaneously screamed, “Run!”
Lilley’s bottom lip trembled, but she didn’t move.
“Run!”
We left the easy terrain of the road for the obstacle-filled forest. Pulling Lilley behind me, we ducked and weaved through thick, mature trees and overgrowth, dodging hanging branches and pushing through waist-high bushes and thick, crowded bracken. The savages would not follow us so easily. The forest was too dense for men their size.
I ran much faster than Lilley, but I forced her to keep my pace, pulling her alongside me. She struggled, gasping and screeching, but I couldn’t take pity on her. Not now. She could yell at me later if I’d overreacted.
We couldn’t move in a straight line. Nests of brown, prickly twigs and rotten, fallen branches littered the forest, but I navigated through them as best as I could. Animals hiding in the trees trained their glowing amber and green eyes on our movements. Sharp branches whipped by us, nearly missing my frightened sister. She took a few of them in the face. I barely missed them myself.
I could taste the moisture in the air. Hear the high-pitched talk of the croaker owls and the movement of their wings as they sliced through the air, fleeing. I could see every last bit of vegetation ahead of us, even under the semidark turbulent evening sky. I could easily differentiate the noises my body was making from my sister’s, and could hear the fainter noises at our rear as the savages closed in.
We couldn’t outrun them. I knew what I had to do. It was now or never.
“We have to…split up,” I told Lilley, through labored breaths. “It’s our only chance.” At least if we split up, I could lead them away from her. I didn’t care what happened to me as long she escaped them. The thought of them harming her scared me senseless and almost brought tears to my eyes.
I tried to free my hand from Lilley’s, but she had me in a death grip.
“No, Meme, no. Please,” she begged. “I’m scared.”
“Everything…will be fine,” I said, trying to be strong for my sister. “Run for home as fast as you can. I won’t be far behind. I promise.” I had to lead them away, and then I had to lose them. It was the only way, though it was easier said than done. Reluctantly, she released my hand.
I veered to the left, and ran for all I was worth, screaming loudly to gain their attention. They had to follow me and not Lilley. Branches snapped and cracked behind me and got progressively louder, but I did not turn. They were behind me. That was all that mattered. Without my sharp senses, I might have gotten lost. Instead, I knew where I was and had a general idea of where I was headed. The forest would soon end and unfold onto a rolling hill, and on it, I would be a sitting duck. So, I turned right, continuing along the edge of the forest. Now that they were following me, I had to lose them and find my way back to Lilley.
Just when I thought I’d lost them, massive, rock-hard arms encircled my waist and knocked me to the ground. His moving body propelled me forward, forcing me to fall onto the earth. It felt like I’d smashed into a brick wall. Our forward-moving motion caused us to roll, each turn crushing me beneath him and effectively deflating my lungs.
Our movement halted when my head and upper body collided with a tree. I gasped and whimpered, though I was not in pain. Not yet. Dark red blood trickled from my brow, catching in my lashes. Forcefully, he turned me onto my back. The savage—the one with dark hair—straddled my hips before leaning over and gripping my wrists, one in each hand, and pinning them to the ground. His tall, thick body seemed to engulf mine. I resisted the urge to struggle. I had no chance at gaining the advantage.
We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, though it was probably mere seconds. His ice-cold stare made me forget to breathe. I swallowed hard as his face inched closer to mine, and his stale breath on my skin made the hairs on my head prick up. Strands of his hair fell from his braids and lightly tickled my neck and face. I closed my eyes, preparing myself for what he would do next. Would he have his way with me? Would he kill me?
“I’m going to get off of you now,” he said. His voice was deep and gritty but he sounded calm. He didn’t sound threatening, not in the least, but I couldn’t help but fear him. Everything I knew about them told me I should.
I opened my eyes and stared at him, confused, as he shifted his weight off me and knelt at my side.
“There is no point in fighting me. It will only end in you being injured.” He cocked his head to my brow and added, “Further.” I instinctively raised my hand to cover the gash.
“My sister,” I said between heaving desperate breaths. She had to be OK. She just had to be.
“She is of no interest. The men will not follow her, provided you come quietly. Not doing so will have consequences and, to be perfectly honest, I have a lot of blood on my hands already.”
My eyes widened.
“I would rather not add a little girl to the tally,” he added.
My gut told me to believe him, and his words offered me a small amount of comfort. Knowing my sister could go home unharmed overshadowed any fears I felt for myself.
I could think of no reasonable explanation for the savages’ pursuit, only that we had managed to offend these complete strangers in some manner or other. He had indicated they were uninterested in Lilley, so I replayed my brief interaction with them over in my mind, searching for a reason. Then, I did the only thing I could think of.
“I’m so sorry. Whatever I did, I never meant to offend. Please,” I begged. I propped myself up on my elbows and then scurried backward until meeting a tree, the bark scratching at my exposed skin.
He furrowed his brow, and seeing his reaction caused me to mirror it.
“What do you want with me?” I asked in a small voice.
He rose to his feet, then bent at the waist to offer me a hand, which I refused. I scowled up at him instead. I was perfectly capable of getting to my feet on my own, thank you. Blood continued to drip over my eye and when I tried to look up I winced as my forehead crinkled. Bruises had already begun on my arms, and my neck felt warm and slick—probably bleeding as well.
He grinned at my refusal, showing neither concern nor remorse for my injuries. I wasn’t looking for pity, but if he were any kind of man he would have felt some measure of guilt for picking on someone half his size. What did I expect? He was a savage and not a gentleman.
Expressionless, he withdrew a handkerchief from his pocket and extended his long arm out to offer it to me. I snatched it reluctantly and held it to my head.
Bushes rustled nearby and another savage shot out from behind them to stand in the waist-high grass; it was the blond who had drawn his sword threateningly when I had seen them approaching in the distance. I remembered he’d said his name was Nole. He was taller than I had first thought, perhaps seven feet.
“Well done, Remmie,” Nole said to the dark-haired one with an air of authority. “Now let’s get off this wretched island already.”
Chapter Four
Had these men come for me? Impossible. The savages had told Lilley that they came to Copaxa in search of something for their king, and now the blond wanted to leave the island after confirming my capture? It didn’t make a lick of sense to me. Who was I to them? No. They searched for something else. But what did they want with me?
The savage named Remmie wrapped his massive fingers around my arm and guided me through the wood, his ironclad grip adding more discomfort to my already tender flesh. I struggled to match his pace and attempted to shake out of his clutches without success. It only made him grip me harder. Although he was shorter than the blond, he had a good ten inches on my five feet and five inches, so his stride was considerably larger. I stumbled across the forest floor and each time I fell, Remmie stopped, not to help me but to allow me a moment to right myself. Remmie all but jogged back to the path, dragging me behind him.
A barrage of thoughts zoomed through my mind though, surprisingly, very few of them concerned my survival. I was less preoccupied with
what
was happening than I was interested in
why
it was happening.
As we neared the others, my survival instincts kicked in. I feverishly tried to free myself, slapping at Remmie’s arms and face. I stood little chance against one, let alone five. I dug my heels into the ground and clawed at the massive hand circling my forearm. He sighed and tightened his fingers around my arm, making me scream out in pain.
The other savages, who I could faintly see in the impending darkness, sat high on their magnificent horses and said nothing when we arrived. One of them yawned while another calmly sat braiding his sandy-brown hair down the length of his back.
Remmie grabbed me by the waist and raised me up onto the blond’s horse. I screamed and flailed my arms. My only advantage against him came from squirming, which, from his huffing and low growl, seemed to offer him a fair amount of frustration.
“Please, sir. Please. Let me go! What do you want with me?” I propped my feet up against the muscular quarters of the horse and pushed. The horse neighed and turned his head toward me, annoyed.
“Knock her out. I have no patience for this,” Nole said with a heavenward roll of his eyes before clucking at his horse. He dropped me to the ground as he inched his horse forward. The others followed the blond’s lead, leaving me alone with the vile savage named Remmie.
“Help!” My voice echoed through the hills and stung the back of my throat. Remmie’s fingers covered my mouth. I tasted the dirt on his fingers and attempted to bite at his palm. He pushed me away and I stumbled, falling to the ground with a groan. The extent of my injuries became excruciatingly obvious. Searing pain in my right shoulder and lower back overcame me. Tensing my muscles, I raised my hands, waiting for him to strike. The mighty blow never came. Instead, his forehead creased and his lips settled into a frown. He ran his hands over the top of his head, and then he knelt by my side.
With narrowed eyes and a scowl, he said, “It doesn’t have to be this way. Cooperate and I will not harm you. If you fight me I will have to hurt you. And the others”—he nodded to the other savages in the distance—“will do worse. I can promise you that.”
It sounded like a plea, like he wanted me to be good so he didn’t have to hurt me. Yet he looked angry and irritated, like he wanted to strike me down, or step on me with his massive boots. I should have listened. I should have done as he said, but I wouldn’t let him have power over me. Instead, I snapped my knee up hip high and kicked him square between the legs with my booted foot.
He screeched in a pitch-perfect cry that reminded me of a croaker owl. As he dropped to the ground, clutching between his legs, I rolled over and ran, ignoring the pain and sore muscles that begged for rest. I didn’t last long. Chest heaving for air, I tripped and fell. When his boots appeared in my peripheral vision, he knelt down and rolled me over before tying my arms. He looked angry, fiercely so. His face was stiff, his thick brows turned in at the middle, and his stormy eyes blazed like the wicked sky. He looked as if he wanted to kill me, and it probably took every ounce of his self-control to hold back. But instead of beating me senseless, he sighed.
“Are you going to have your way with me? Is that what you want me for?” I asked him.
His lips quirked into a shadow of a smile. “Hardly. You’re not at all my type.”
“And what type is that?”
“Scrawny.”
I opened my mouth but said nothing. Scrawny but safe. Maybe. He wouldn’t violate me if he was true to his word, but he didn’t say he wouldn’t hurt me or, worse, kill me, which was really what I should have been concerned about at this point.
He scooped me up and walked me back to his horse, throwing me over the saddle as easily as he would a sack of feathers. With a slight bend of the knees and then full extension, he gracefully leaped up onto the horse’s back to sit behind me. He grabbed the reins in front of me and rested his hands in several different positions before settling his forearms on my arms. I moved them, not wanting him to touch me, but I could hardly get away from him on the horse.
“You’re making a mistake,” I told him as he nudged the horse forward. “I’m just a farm girl. I’m nobody.” My words stung harder than I ever thought possible.