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Something pointed pricked Thami in the back. He arched his spine and tensed every muscle. In response, the weapon eased off its pressure but maintained contact with his lower back. Then a silhouetted form broke free from the shadows before him. A Tutrumese warrior, spear in one hand and the other hand resting on a dagger belted to his hip. The man’s skin was as black as coal, and his robes were just as dark—easy to miss on a moonless night. But as he shifted to get a better look at Thami, the distant firelight backlit the man’s glistening face. His hair was pulled into tight braids filled with beads or shells. Deep wrinkles cragged his skin. And his scruff of beard hinted at specks of white. An older soldier.

After a silent minute, the man finally snorted, and a toothy smile flickered across his lips. “Tsk, tsk,” he said, his voice hoarse with age. “That was some fall. Too bad you didn’t break your neck.”

Trying to look threatening, Thami narrowed his eyes into a glare. But the man only shook his head and laughed. Then his eyes tightened into menacing slits, displaying a fierceness that made Thami flinch.

“Do you really think you can scare me, fool?” the man rasped, thrusting the butt of his spear into the ground. Hands empty, he stepped within inches of Thami’s face. As he unfastened Thami’s sword belt, he whispered, “I know what you are and who you are. A Tafilatan dog, for sure. But more whelp than dog. Runt of the litter with barely a whisker and no real bite. I bet you haven’t even spilled another man’s blood yet. Have you?”

Surprised, Thami bit his lip. How had he been assessed so quickly? So…accurately? Unable to deny his captor’s assumptions, Thami puffed out his cheeks and thrust out his chest defiantly.

The man laughed again and returned to his spear. He smiled wickedly as he buckled Thami’s sword around his waist and raised his eyebrows. “You’re wondering how I already know so much about you, huh? It’s not hard, really. It’s in your eyes, runt. Wide open with panic and bouncing with fear because this is all new to you. Besides, a true warrior—someone like me—could have watched this camp all night without anyone knowing. But you? We’ve been watching you ever since you crested the ridge, fool. You make more noise than a pack of howling hyenas. My young partner wanted to go get you, but I told him to be patient. Even made a little wager with him.”

The man nodded to whoever stood behind Thami. “I told you, didn’t I, Uzemzum? Told you this fool’s even more useless than you? And, sure enough, he fell right to us, just like I said. Now, tie his arms behind him and loop what’s left of the rope around his waist. Make sure the bonds are tight…and make sure you pay me later.”

Behind Thami, a younger voice answered. “Yeah, yeah, Aseggas. But I’m no idiot like this one. Of course, I'll tie him tight. And you'll get your money when we get paid."

Uzemzum’s answer seemed to irritate Aseggas. With eyes filled with red firelight, he growled and lowered his spear, keeping it level with Thami's stomach. He spit and shook his head. “I've got him covered, Uz, so hurry up and get to work. And when we get back, I’m checking your stuff for my money. A bet’s a bet. And if you can’t pay, you shouldn’t bet. You’re lucky the chief has me training you or I’d...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Uzemzum repeated. “Else you’d slit my throat while I sleep or some such thing.” As he spoke, the pressure of Uzemzum’s spear fell away from Thami’s spine. But before Thami could relax, two large hands grabbed his forearms and crossed them behind his back. Seconds later, rough fibers scratched his wrists. Hoping to keep his bonds loose, he flexed and separated his arms slightly as his captor worked.

 Probably not enough to escape, Thami thought as more rope was looped around his waist and cinched tight. But, hopefully, enough that I won’t lose feeling in my fingers.

“You done?” Aseggas asked as Uzemzum stepped away.

“Yeah.”

“Give me the runt’s leash then,” Aseggas said, grabbing the rope, backing away, and snapping the rope taut. When Thami winced, a wicked smile arched across Aseggas’s grizzled face. “Like I said before, too bad you didn’t break your neck, scum. Too bad for you. Because this camp needs a little diversion. A bit of entertainment. And what’s more fun than watching a mangy Tafilatan squirm in agony? Believe you me, when the chief’s done with you, you’ll be begging for death.”

Aseggas punctuated his comment by yanking on the rope with surprising strength and pulling Thami off balance. As he stumbled forward, Aseggas spun around and dragged Thami toward the heart of the enemy camp.

Behind him, Uzemzum muttered threats. “Don’t get any ideas, Tafilatan. My spear is sharp, and I'll gladly hamstring you. Or maybe I’ll slip and run you through just for fun.”

Uzemzum had spoken softly, but Aseggas still heard. He hissed and glared over his shoulder. “If you kill him before he reaches the chief, Uz, you will be the one we torture. Now move!”

Not waiting for a response, Aseggas stormed ahead. Thami staggered forward, finding it hard to balance with his hands tied behind his back. But his awkward movements weren’t enough to make him forget Aseggas’s implied threat. He grimaced as he imagined the insufferable interrogation that was probably minutes away. He swallowed hard, trying to dispel the dread that filled him. But Aseggas didn’t seem the sort to make idle threats, and with each step forward, Thami’s fear intensified.

Thami bit his lip and shook his head. Why hadn’t he turned north when he had the chance? Or at the very least, why hadn’t he broken his neck when he had fallen?

As Aseggas dragged Thami through the camp, though, his self-loathing was soon replaced by gut-churning dismay. A throng of drunken warriors surrounded every campfire they passed, and the neat rows of tents seemed unending. He sucked in his lip as he calculated how many enemy troops filled the valley. If each tent held at least two soldiers, Zahir’s estimate of the Tutrumese force was seriously wrong. The commander had been preparing for two hundred Tutrumese, but easily twice as many enemy soldiers filled the valley. Maybe three times. Tafilat’s army would be slaughtered if it decided to engage these Tutrumese.

I need to warn Zahir, Thami realized. This is exactly why he sent me here. But how? How can I possibly escape?

Lost in thought, Thami nearly tumbled when the rope around his waist suddenly fell slack. Aseggas had stopped. He spun back to Thami and Uzemzum.

“Wait here,” Aseggas said, “while I brief Chief Amman.”

Aseggas passed the rope to Uzemzum and growled at Thami. “Stay, runt. Or your torment will be far more painful than your puny mind can imagine.”

With that, Aseggas spun away and stepped toward two sentries who guarded the entrance to a large red tent. He whispered to one of the guards, who nodded and ducked inside the tent. While waiting for the first sentry to return, Aseggas muttered something to the second sentry. The tall, powerful warrior nodded as he stared at Thami. The sentry’s fierce scowl made Thami flinch and pull his shoulders back. But he fought the urge to look down. Instead, he lifted his gaze and focused on the strange structure that towered behind the tent and shimmered with the reflected light of the valley’s campfires. He stood near the dark dome he’d spotted from the top of the ridge. But the rooftop was far larger than he’d guessed—easily quadruple the size of any dome Thami had ever seen. What had the Tutrumese discovered?

A rustling of canvas brought Thami’s focus back to the tent entrance as the first sentry emerged. “Chief will see you,” the man said to Aseggas. “Bring the prisoner.”

Aseggas snorted and snatched the rope from Uzemzum. “This may be your most unlucky night, runt, but things are looking up for me. Your misery will be a great boon to me. Funny how that works, isn’t it?” He snickered gleefully as he ducked into the tent. Thami, though, wondered if he was going to retch as his leash dragged him forward.

****

Hey there,

It's Will. So five sections in, huh? What do you think? I'd love to hear what brought so far into my story :)