The sound of rustling and thudding footsteps wake me from my night's sleep. Then I fell the hand of the guard on my head. "Wake up." He whispers and I turn around and grunt. "Wake up." He says again this time more harshly.
I open my eyes and stare into his pail face. "What?" I ask, and look around. All of the others slowly haul up. I see Aiul stretching and barely holding straight on his feet.
"Someone in the woods is watching us." The guard answers. That makes me stumble up like a scared dog.
Already Tork and his cousins have assembled in a line a watch around trying to spot something in the woods. Something in the stretching silence of the dark gives me goosebumps, as the sentinels of trees, dark leaves stirring with the hint of wind. Clouds hide the heavens above and the electric shine of stars. The other two guards clutch to their spears and gather boldness.
I stumble my way to Aiul and shake him. "Get behind the carriage." I order him and usher him to the side of the bulk. "Prepare to use your sword." I tell him, gripping the handle of my own.
In his bleary state he nods. "Right." He manages to mumble.
If on cue by this dazed murmur an arrow whirs past the night's cold air and strikes the chest of one of the guards. He topples to a knee and grunts an inaudible curse. He clings to his spear, as wine-colored blood streams from his chest. Another arrow crackles past, and I hear the thud, as the guard drops to the ground, blood spraying up from his head where the arrow pierced his forehead. "Get down." Another guard yells, before three arrows go into his torso. A cold sweat beads on my face and I turn to Aiul and to see that what remained of his sleep had now vanished, replaced by heavy breaths and a sick wan color. My own heart won't stop drumming in my chest. It is all over again. Death again knocks on my door.
The others lay flat on the ground and try to crow to the carriage. One of Tork's cousins lays motionless, fearful rasps whirling in the air about him. An arrow hurtles over the trees, like a fleeing bird, but then drops down and the sharp end buries into the thigh of the cousin. He moans with pain.
"We must get out of here." I say and grab the hand of Aiul, before pulling him with me to the other side, to the safer woods. We slide down the road and round a bush and spectate the horror that unfolds on the road. As the remainder of the group congregates behind the carriage, another arrow flies and hits a horse. The animal yawls and crashes and dart ahead, leaving the Tork, his cousins and the lonely guard exposed. I close my eyes and brace for the coming death, but no arrows come.
"A little bugs have fallen in a spider's web." A man emerges from the trees down the road. He laughs. He wears a leather tunic and high boots, and around his waist hangs a curved sword. Dark plastered hair sluices down his head. He approaches. "Lay down your weapons and kneel." He says.
I nudge Aiul. "Lets get out of here."
"Right."
We run deeper into the forest and through the groove of maple I hear the man's harsh voice. "Kneel slaves." And then the sound of kicks.
I don't look back and run as fast as my legs could go. In this tranquil forest the only sound echoing is the plopping of my and Aiul's feet, and the mutual panicked cantor of our rasped breathing, that fogs into the air. I have seen death again. Another thing boils the air around me, makes it stir with the fog and the sweat, something Aiul senses, a thing only meant for the Gods who decide my fate. Is the thing pushing me survive. It is storm that rages in my mind, its gusts blown strong by the death of my parents, its thunder brought down by their falling heads.