By Force (6 page)

Satisfied, or simply bored, he began rubbing circles into his temples with his massive fingers. The muscles in his arms strained beneath his tunic. In an exasperated tone he asked, “Which shoulder did you injure?” Was he going to help me? His posture, his eyes, his tone, all told me that he either seriously distrusted me or he absolutely loathed me, maybe both. Yet it seemed as if he might help me.

I nodded to my right shoulder.

“This is going to hurt,” he said in warning. “But it will be far worse if you leave it.” He helped me up into a seated position, and then took my arm, bending it at the elbow. To my surprise, he handled me carefully. His feather-fine touch was how I imagined a father would treat a child—but the scowl never left his face.

In a sweeping motion he rotated my arm inward and outward. I felt as if I had been kicked in the stomach. I cried out, unable to hide my anguish as my shoulder snapped back into place with a
pop
. All of the men except James turned their heads away from me. He smiled. Awfulness oozed from his dimpled pores.

Nole rested my right hand over my chest. “Keep your arm like this for a while. It should feel better quickly.”

“It feels better now.” I stared at the flecks of gold in his brilliant blue eyes before adding, “Thank you.” My arm ached less, almost as if I’d never hurt it in the first place.

Nole stood and turned his back to me before heading to the fire.

“You’re welcome,” I muttered to myself. These men needed a few lessons in manners. As if hearing me, he stopped abruptly and glanced over his shoulder at me. He raised his eyebrows in annoyance and then resumed ignoring me.

Gray-Streaks approached me next, offering me stew. “Here.” He held the bowl out to me. I shook my head and said nothing. When he crouched beside me I tried to avoid his gaze. I lifted my chin like a petulant child. I would take nothing from them.

He sighed and shook his head. “It is important for you to eat. You’re only hurting yourself here.” He placed the bowl at my feet before walking away. The stew was still warm, and the steam circled in the air before snaking up into my nose as if it were charmed. My stomach groaned. It smelled so good. I peeked over my bent knees, and regarded the clear broth with chunks of mystery meat, boiled bits of potatoes, and bright green leaves.

My mouth watered for a quarter of an hour before I finally surrendered. I struggled to eat, mustering barely enough strength to lift the wooden spoon; it was not nearly as good as it smelled, but I still managed to polish off the entire contents and keep it down. The added weight in my stomach actually succeeded in quelling my nausea. And the mystery meat? I knew once I tasted the tender meat that it was the flesh of a bryer rabbit, the kind with long floppy ears and the silky golden fur. It was sinful for rabbits to be made as tasty as they were cute.

Remmie freed my feet from the bindings before we set off. He barely touched the rope with his jeweled knife before it fell around my feet.

I gently rubbed my ankles before he pulled me up.

He took the blanket from me and draped a white hooded cape, lined with fur, about my shoulders. He fumbled as he tried to tie the string in front of my neck, his rough fingers brushing against my skin, quickening my pulse.

Something in the way he tucked the blanket around me the night before and the way he gently draped and tied the cape about my shoulders gave him away. He might have been following orders, but he was also being as gentle with me as he could, whether he wanted to own up to it or not. Our gazes met and I gently covered his hands with mine. I wanted to thank him for the extra care he gave me but before I could manage it he clutched my hands at the wrists and forced me to drop my hands to my sides. He stared at me with a scowl on his face.

“You’re nicer to me than the others are. Why?” I said in an almost inaudible whisper.

“We were told to keep you alive, and that’s what I aim to do. Don’t mistake my actions for kindness.”

“All the same, thank you.”

He nodded, his eyes pensive, but his lips set in a firm line as if he wanted to comment but wouldn’t allow himself to. What would he say if he didn’t stop himself? I wanted to know. He was so different from any man I’d ever known and everything about him made me curious, but I had to push my curiosity away. He was a savage. A killer. And I was his prisoner.

For two days we rode across the southern island of Copaxa, stopping only to eat, relieve ourselves, and make camp for the night. Initially, I rode with Nole, but he easily tired of my tears and sniffles and quickly handed me off to Remmie. It was unclear if it upset Nole to hear women cry, or if it irritated him. Probably the latter. My father hated to see women cry. My sister often did it on purpose to get her way. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d cried before I’d met these men. Now I was a sniveling mess, and I hated myself for it.

I rarely rode with the others. I wasn’t sure why, but I was grateful, at least, they hadn’t made me ride with the one they called James.

I continued to ask them for answers about where we headed, and why they never responded to any of my questions. For the most part, they behaved as if I were invisible. Eventually, I gave up and did the same. I spoke when spoken to but otherwise said nothing. What was there to say? There was no point in feigning interest in one another. They were my captors, and I was their prisoner; pretending to be anything else was pointless. Or was it?

On the fourth day, after another pounding rain, I realized I couldn’t wait any longer. My family would have been worried sick. As much as I didn’t want to go home to marry Henry, I had to admit that marrying him and having my family in my life was certainly preferable to being kidnapped, even if I’d managed to see more of Copaxa than I ever had. But it was not as if I could enjoy it or take in the sights. My body continued to betray me, as I sniveled and daydreamed. All the places I’d seen so far passed in one great big blur.

How could I escape them, though? I could not overpower the savages, so that was out. I could try to outsmart them. That was a possibility. But another option that I considered, and finally decided to employ, involved killing them with kindness. If I could engage them and get them to recognize me as a person, then perhaps they would feel sympathetic toward me and maybe even let me go, or at least let their guard down long enough so that I could escape. They were capable of kindness. I had already witnessed that from most of them. I had managed to appeal to Remmie’s, Nole’s, and the older one’s kinder side, even if it wasn’t solely for my benefit. My only real obstacle was James.

James.

How do you charm the uncharmable?

Chapter Six

Charming James wasn’t even in the realm of possibility, as far as I could tell. But after thinking more about it, I decided I didn’t have to. James was part of the group, but he was also an outsider. The others seemed to scoff or disregard most of what he said so his obvious contempt and dislike for me might not significantly affect my plan. I had to focus my attention on the others and forget all about James, or maybe drive an even bigger wedge between him and the others.

I’d never been a big talker, so the thought of engaging them overwhelmed me. I hardly knew what to say. So I thought of my bold, talkative sister. What would she say? How would she say it? She probably would have been released by now if she had been the one captured instead of me.

As I rode with Nole one afternoon I decided to put my plan into motion. The weather was inconsistent, altering without notice from foreboding rain to blinding sunshine. Now it looked like rain. We rode ahead, not too fast, not too slow. A perfect pace for conversation. It was now or never, and I blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Is our island much different from yours?” I forced a smile and tried to make my voice a little sweeter. He didn’t even glance at me.

“Is this your first time on Copaxa?”

Nole sighed theatrically. He talked the least out of all of them, but he was the leader and the one with whom I mostly rode, so I really had no choice but to focus my efforts on him.

“I’ve never been this far north before. I always wanted to, but I’ve never had the opportunity. I suppose I should be thankful for that, at least. Will we be passing the castle? I’ve heard so much about it. The tall, ice-blue towers and lush green gardens. The liquid magma moat and golden drawbridge.” I drew a large breath and puffed it out through pursed lips. “Have you seen it yet? You must have. There are only two ports in and out of Copaxa. You must have crossed at Luxen? That is the more popular of the two. Larger, I think.”

I studied his face, hoping for some form of acknowledgment, but the savage only frowned and stared straight ahead. I tried to gauge his level of annoyance. He looked down at me from under his hooded brows and then refocused his gaze on the road. Keeping the conversation going would not be easy.

“I hope the weather clears soon. Our journey would certainly be more pleasant if the sun stayed out. Not that I don’t love the rain. It’s rather soothing, don’t you think?”

No answer.

“First she wouldn’t stop crying, and now she won’t shut up,” said Sandy-Brown, or Otis, as the men referred to him. He laughed through his words—the jester of the bunch, always with something clever to say.

“My sister hates the rain. She is a tad vain, and doesn’t appreciate the effect it has on her hair. Speaking of hair, you and your men wear yours rather long. Do the women where you are from wear it in a similar fashion? I am curious to see the females of your race. I bet they are strong and fierce, and do as they please and not what they’re told.”

One word. One nod. This was the first step. Then develop a friendship, of sorts, with him.

I kept talking, determined not to give up, but after a painful half hour it was clear that Nole wasn’t interested. We swayed in silence while I considered the plan B I didn’t have. My thoughts were interrupted when the men halted and I slammed into Nole’s rock-hard chest.

“What is it?” I said, looking up into his face. With closed eyes, he raised his hand to silence me. His nostrils flared as if he caught a scent in the air. I tried to do the same. I smelled nothing except the sap from the maples.

A light swishing noise sounded, followed by the rustling of leaves. Nole slowly lowered his hand to grip the jeweled hilt of his sword. My eyes grew large and I held my breath as I strained to make out the sounds.

Swish, swish, swish
.

We all looked at one another.

Swish, swish, swish
.

I leaned back into Nole’s chest and wondered if I should be scared. How foolish. I rode with savages. What did I have to fear except the savages themselves? They would overcome whatever obstacle we faced and come out victorious.

A cluster of thick bushes rustled and through them strolled a creature almost as big as the horses. A shriek. It paused to glance at us through its big blue eyes before continuing to cross the road. Its massive paws smacked at the dirt, one lazy paw at a time. When it shook its head, its loose, hairless skin flung saliva on us and on the nearby bushes.

Although the animal was virtually harmless, the horses still found the creature threatening, bucking and neighing wildly as the animal neared us. Nole calmed his horse into submission; he spoke gently in a foreign language and reached around me to stroke its mane. I could feel his chin nearly resting on my shoulder and could smell his musky scent, a mixture of smoke, pine, and ale-tinged sweat. It wasn’t unpleasant.

Remmie galloped forward to position his horse beside Nole’s. He reached over his shoulder and snatched an arrow, quickly pulling it back onto a bow, the tattooed muscles in his arms straining. I reached my hands out to try to stop him.

“It’s just a shriek! It won’t hurt you.”

The curious animal, which stopped to witness the commotion, continued along, shrieking at us in a high, piercing scream before disappearing behind a handful of trees.

With a slight nod from Nole, Remmie shouldered his bow and turned his horse around to reclaim his spot behind us. Remmie had listened to me when I told him the animal was no threat, and no one had challenged this. I glanced over my shoulder to meet his gaze and an unfamiliar ache settled deep within my stomach, forcing a cool sweat over my whole body. With heated cheeks, I snapped my head back around to face forward and nervously I played with my fingers as I tried to regain focus.

“What language did you just speak?” I quietly asked Nole, determined to continue my plan.

“Optan.”

I held back a satisfied smile as I looked overhead to see the clouds triumphantly part; I took it as a sign. I allowed myself to hope. And this distracted me from the brief moment I’d shared with Remmie when our eyes had met.

“Is that the language you speak in Optavia?”

No response. Several minutes passed before I thought of anything else to say. It thrilled me that he responded, but I was also excited to have seen a real live shriek. I’d only seen them in drawings.

“Are you married?” I blurted out, returning to the task at hand.

I heard a loud belly laugh from behind me. “Will wonders never cease? I think the girl fancies ya,” Otis said.

I rolled my eyes at the interruption.

Nole clucked at his horse and we moved on. I looked around at the others as I bounced up and down on the seat of his horse.

“I bet you’re not—married, that is. I bet you’re all single.”

“And what makes you say that?” The savage with the silver-streaked hair—the one they called Roland—picked up his pace on his horse until he trotted beside us.

“Please don’t misunderstand me. I mean no offense. I just meant that most wives would be unsupportive of their husbands spending long periods of time away from them.” I paused again. It was getting a little easier to talk now. “I am quite envious. I’ve always wanted to travel. You must lead very exciting lives.” Nole pulled on the reins and his horse abruptly stopped.