Chapter 12:
Wild Men
“Take these off.” I wave my sleeves in front of Trevus.
He pauses packing Gramps’s saddlebag. It’s morning now, and we’re getting ready to head off again. “I prefer them where they are,” he says.
“Well, maneuvering my pants on and off with these clunky sleeves is a half-hour endeavor. My bladder can’t wait a day’s journey, so you best be prepared to delay our departure.”
Trevus looks me up and down. He soon determines that I don’t intend to repeat the events of last night. “So be it,” he says. “Step back.”
I follow his instruction, and he loosens my sleeves. His sword remains sheathed. Before last night, there was always a weapon in his hand whenever my sleeves were off. He’s learned that I’m hesitant to use my connection, but he has no idea how deep my conviction goes.
I head off into the thicker part of the forest. Sun shines through the trees, and their branches cast a stripy shadow across my oban uniform. The fresh air carries the scent of the woods. It’s nothing like the damp mornings in the tower.
I settle in a spot obscured by branches, but not so far that they can’t see where I am. If I were to completely disappear, they’d come searching.
I finish up and tighten my belt again. It’s a much less frustrating task with the use of my fingers.
Something slams into my chin, sending me flying backwards. My back hits a tree, and an iron arm wraps around my middle. Not a tree – a man.
I scream for Trevus, but my voice is muffled. The man’s hand presses tight over my mouth. I writhe against his grip, kicking at his legs and making him carry all my weight. His hairy arm constricts my middle, and the pressure on my jaw grows, pinning my head still. Scratching and pulling at his arms does nothing. He’s leagues stronger than me.
I’m twisted around, bringing three more men into view. They’re in raggedy clothes the color of mud, and the dirt caked in their beards betray the weeks they’ve gone without bathing. The stench of ale from the one holding me is so overpowering that I fear my clothes already share it. These are wild men. I own nothing of value, but they chose to catch me instead of taking my life. What do they want?
Two of them disappear from view. The grip on my head prevents my eyes from following them. The man carries me towards our camp. My struggling and kicking does nothing to slow him down.
Trevus, Marcellus and Giddius stand together, their gaze following us as we emerge from the trees. Giddius has his bow drawn, the arrow pointed in our direction. Marcellus has his axe in hand, eager to swing it. Trevus’s expression could kill. His long sword is drawn.
Trevus marches forward.
The hand disappears from my mouth. I yelp as a cold sharp edge is pressed against my throat. “Uh uh uh,” the man says in a scratchy voice.
Trevus stills.
“There are four!” I shout.
Giddius points his bow at the trees on his right, and Marcellus’s eyes find something to his left. They’ve seen them.
“Lose ya weapons, or ya pretty friend here loses ‘er head,” the ale-stinking man says.
“If she dies, I shall bring such torment upon you that you shall beg to follow her fate,” Trevus says. “You shall know agony like no other man as crows peck your eyes and dogs lap your wounds.” Even though his words aren’t directed at me, my subconscious still wills me to flee. My instincts scream that Trevus is dangerous. He has never looked at me like the way he does at this man. I’ve seen fury, fear and frustration in his eyes, but never such hatred, not even when I ran.
“Easy, easy,” the man says. He lowers the knife a little, relieving the pressure on my neck. “We don’t want ya blood, just ya gold. Lose ya weapons. We’ll take our treasure and leave ya be.”
“Mephian girl,” Giddius growls. His eyes jump to my waist for a moment. My bare hand is pushing against the man’s hairy arm. Giddius expects me to use my connection to escape.
My glare meets his. He doesn’t know what happened to Mehlia all those years ago. I already carry her name with me. If things went wrong, I’d be left standing over a dead body, and every man here would be witness to my horrific act. It’s easy for Giddius to make that suggestion when the man’s life won’t be on his conscience. I couldn’t live with it.
The other two wild men step out from the forest. Giddius and Marcellus form up with Trevus. They’re staying in a group. The three of them must have spent weeks training together in their unit. Both Marcellus and Giddius look eager to engage, but they wait for Trevus’s approval. I’m the reason they’re holding back.
The ale man’s breath runs down my neck, and his beard scratches against my skin. His nose must be just inches from my head. He’s short. While I may not know how to win a duel against Marcellus, I have years of practice struggling against the grip of guards. I lean my head forward until the blade touches my neck again.
The man’s posture shifts as he looks down to see what I’m doing. Perfect.
I swing my head back, the top of my skull slams into his vulnerable nose. He screams. I shove his knife away and kick at his legs. His grip on me loosens, and I tumble to the ground.
A second scream follows from the man. I scramble against the slippery leaves to sit up.
Three large men surround me – Trevus, Marcellus and Giddius. They form a circle with me in the center, each of them facing their opponents. Trevus’s sword is embedded in the shoulder of the ale-smelling man. I’m able to get a good look at him for the first time. He has stringy gray hair with a flat potato nose – which now runs with blood.
Trevus frees his sword and aims it at the man’s face. The end is coated in a deep red. The man scrambles back and nearly trips over his own feet. Upon witnessing their leader cower and flee, the other men retreat back into the woods.
Giddius releases a shot, and there’s a pained scream in the forest. Did he just fire an arrow into a man’s back?
With the immediate threat gone, Giddius and Marcellus circle the camp. Trevus sheathes his sword. He kneels to my level, and his eyes run up and down my frame.
My disheveled hair is full of leaves. He touches my chin, raising it to reveal my neck.
He takes my hand in his. “You tremble. Is there injury?”
“I’m fine,” I say. There isn’t any pain. It’s just the residual nerves from having a knife against my skin.
“Have you forgotten whose hand you are touching?” Marcellus says. He’s staring at us from across the camp with an uneasy expression. Trevus’s bare hands are on mine.
Trevus stands and helps me to my feet. “Jade is uncooperative on occasion, not hostile,” he says.
“Is setting you unconscious truly hostile?” Marcellus asks. “You shall be free of injury.”
“’Tis to Jade,” Trevus says.
Marcellus nods in understanding, but he doesn’t share Trevus’s trust that I won’t connect to him. I prefer that – soldiers being wary of me. Trevus’s discovery is to his benefit, not mine.
“You feeble mit.” Giddius marches towards me, invading my personal space.
I step back, but he catches my arm at the elbow and raises it above my head. “Your hand held the bandit’s skin, yet you remained as a helpless hostage.”
“I freed myself just fine,” I say. “Let me go.” I tug against his grip, but he holds tight.
“You have the gift of sorcery, yet you waste it in favor of a brutish headbutt. Fate truly is all chance, for granting you sorcery could not be a poorer choice.” He shakes my arm. “The potential of these hands shall never be realized with the feeble being they are attached to. Your lack of ambition relegates you to servitude.”
I grit my teeth. “Don’t delude yourself into believing that you have any idea what it’s like to live my life. You know
nothing
of who I am.” I reach for him with my free hand. He drops my arm in fright. He’s still cautious of my connection. Good.
“I saw what you did as those men ran off,” I say. “The words of someone who yearns for murder are worthless to me.”
Giddius’s face twists up. He raises his hand to slap me, but Trevus catches it. “As you are free to be an ass, Jade is free to call you one,” Trevus says. “Intraparty combat is reserved for the square.”
Giddius yanks his arm away and leaves.
“’Twas a good hit, girly,” Marcellus says. “‘Tis a pity that they ran before my turn. You have inspired me to make better use of my head, just as the Captain commanded.”
Trevus shakes his head, and I smile.
The rest of them return to cleaning up the camp. I take the time to enjoy the sun, staying right in the middle of our clearing – the safest spot.
“Jade,” Trevus calls from the forest. The camp is nearly packed up, and Giddius is already on his horse. He’s glancing around more than before, probably on lookout after what just happened.
Trevus’s voice emanated from where I was grabbed earlier. I don’t want to go back in there. “I can’t see you,” I call back.
“Follow my voice,” he says.
Giddius is on high alert, so Trevus must be too. He wouldn’t prompt to follow him if there was danger.
Taking in a deep breath, I step between the trees again. Needly branches crack as I push my way through. I find Trevus kneeling beside a dry plant shaped like a fan.
“This is a vampire thistle.” Trevus snaps a branch. “’Tis named so because the stem dies in the winter, then ‘tis shed by the living root and regrown in the summer. It resurrects with the season.”
I nod. It’s interesting, but why did he call me here?
Trevus hands me the thin branch. “Deform it and share what you learn.”
I bend the branch, and it snaps into three pieces, the middle one falling between my feet. “It’s brittle,” I say.
“Well observed.” He stands straight again. “It shall protect you in the wilderness, should you permit it.”
“Protect me?”
Trevus gestures to the left side of the fanned thistle. A number of its thin branches have been snapped, many only hanging on by a thread. “The thistle speaks, if you learn to listen.”
Someone must have brushed against it.
“Did your route pass beside it?” he asks.
“No, I was over there.” I point to where I entered the forest before. “This was from the wild men?”
“Precisely. Here on, the thistle shall warn you.”
Me too!!
Great job!
😂
bro stfu
😩🦋🦋
period
MAKE HIM SLEEP
she ’bout to put him to the best sleep of his life
Butterflies
@rileysing Hey, don’t get me wrong, I sleep 3 hours a night, so when I’m in bed, my eyes are constantly heavy, and I love your story so much that I’m impatiently waiting for the next update. Actually, I like very few stories, but I’ve read and loved all your stories. Don’t be rude when I said that I fell asleep while reading your story.
@Oh yes. I was reading the first chapter of the midnight story and sometimes I fell asleep because of that I was confused.
I have a question. Was Jade sexually assaulted by the guards while she was in prison?
he’s so sweet teaching her. And holding her hand with trust
😂
Nice tip, means she can be aware of her surroundings and even let them know if she notices something
Shows there’s some trust she believes he wouldn’t lead her into danger…
Yeah, there’s some interesting dynamics growing in the group
Nice, get back at him
Shouldn’t really attack a retreating enemy but also that dude would just harm others or even attack their group again
That’s so mean… he should learn to mind his tounge. He’s not even in charge there, Trevus is.
Good, she’s defending herself and also getting out of the situation without having to rely on her sorcery.
In a position like this pacifism isn’t really very smart
Like I get why she doesn’t want to use her gift but being able to engage in self defense is important
That’s such an intense threat lol
I suppose it’s just an indirect way of saying he will lose his life… or be left to suffer from severe injuries?
Definitely, she is key to his plans afterall… and I think at this point he is growing to care about her as a person too
How were you even doing it without use of your fingers…
queen👏👏👏
Dude is pissed lol
I love how Marcellus has grown to respect her in a way
They’d know horrors in a brute, i think she’d prefer it not be the case though
sweet
He has a better understanding of her, so he has more trust in her nature, is weet
Always a silverlining, having things learnt, even through tough experiences, also you go girl!