throw down your weapons and stand in a line,” a guard said. They dismounted and placed their stuff on the ground before them, Sasha trembling and Keither shaking. Legon knew the look Kovos was wearing, the “I’m going to do some damage” look that he always got before a big fight. Kovos was a nice guy, but cross the line with him and, well, Legon just hoped his friend would keep it under control until the right time. He didn’t blame him. His own feeling of fear was slipping away and his body coursed with the energy that came with losing himself, letting go, and letting his fists or maybe that big cleaver do the talking. But not now.
One of the men pointed at Sasha and threw her some ropes. “You tie them up, starting with those two. Tie them to that tree.”
No surprise there; have the least threatening take care of the others so they only had to take care of her.
Sasha came up to Legon, who turned his back and allowed her to bind him. Her hands were damp with sweat and cold, her fingers barely able to form the knots. Legon knelt down next to the tree, never taking his eyes off the men. He wanted to aggravate them, wanted them to go for him. Soon Kovos was next to him and Keither’s hands were bound, but not to the tree.
“Good work, pretty. Now turn around and place your hands behind you. Do anything dumb and we’ll see if your insides are as nice as your outside, got it?” She nodded and turned. The man came up behind her and wrapped the rope tightly around her wrists. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She turned her head away and her breath caught when he grabbed her backside. She quickly walked to Legon and knelt down by him, almost like she was trying to hide behind him. He had expected them to grab Sasha. Soldiers were always grabbing women in town. It made him mad, but all in all it could have been worse.
“Our commander should be back before nightfall, so you four just sit tight,” he said and started to leave, but then turned back around. “Oh, I almost forgot… gag.”
At the command, one of the men came up to them and placed a large wad of stained and dirty rag in each of their mouths and tied it in. The rags had probably been used to wipe sweat from the soldiers’ faces and necks. There was a taste of salt, dirt, and several other things Legon didn’t want to think about. Keither gagged a bit. This was not good. If their commander was supposed to be back tonight then that meant they would have to try to escape from ten royal guards, not just four, and that this whole thing was a trap. A bead of sweat ran the length of his back, and he was feeling weak from the lack of sleep and food.
The sun was getting lower in the sky and the light coming thought the treetops was getting fainter. Soon they could hear the sound of hooves clopping in the distance and the soldiers arose, looking to see the new visitors. Five more soldiers rode into camp—the same five from town. The commander looked smug.
“Thought you could outsmart us, did you?” he jeered. They said nothing.
The men were off their horses and walking to them. The one that had killed Moleth looked down, surveying them. He stopped when he saw Keither. “Well looky here, if it isn’t the tough one that tried to best me in town.”
The commander looked at Keither, who was still hunched over and shaking. “I think they may need a lesson on how to treat authority.”
Kovos attempted to say something through his gag. One of the men kicked him hard in the ribs.
The men chuckled and the leader said, “There’s no teaching this one, at least not in the field. We can tutor him back in Bailaya.” They were headed to the capital, then. This was not good at all.
The man continued, pointing at Legon. “You won’t get this one either, but we may be able to teach the fat one,” he said, reaching down and pulling off Keither’s gag.
The one that killed Moleth laughed. “Permission to have some fun, sir,” he said in a dark tone. The commander waved his hand and stepped back.
The man pulled Keither into the center of the camp by his