The Land: Forging (Chaos Seeds Book 2) (45 page)

Both were confused by what they were seeing at first. It had been killed by an arrow, that was clear enough, but the body hadn’t been treated in the way they had been taught. Instead great hunks of meat had been cut off with no concern towards saving the pelt. Much of the deer had been left to rot as well. It was in opposition of everything they knew. Death was part of life, that truth had never been hidden from the young sprites. Killing another living creature was not to be taken lightly, however. Hunting was both a responsibility and a sacred honor. No part of an animal was ever wasted. What they saw before them was… savagery.

Their mood now somber, they continued to follow the trail that led from the carcass, ever farther from the Hearth Tree. Another few hours of travel brought them to the camp of the humans. The smell was what they noticed first. The humans seemed to have just emptied their bowels and bladders in random places rather than create a proper site to dispose of their waist.

They stayed hidden as they walked through the trees. When they were closer, Sion heard squeals of pain followed by cruel laughter. The smell of cooking meat drifted through the woods, and they caught the first glimpses of the camp through the trees. Another minute of walking, and they saw the most horrible sight of their young lives.

There were four, no five, humans in the camp. Two wagons were nearby filled with stacked cages. More than half were filled with some of the more dangerous creatures of the forest. Feline brown fangs, red forest dogs, chittering skree, and even several skeelings. They were all caged separately and seemed furious about their situation.

The squeal of pain they heard though, was from a cave badger. The humans had made their camp beside a small crevasse that was about seven feet deep. Both entrances were blocked with rocks preventing escape. A badger huddled near one entrance. Its body was pressed up against the rocks in an attempt to avoid the other denizen of fissure.

The humans had driven a spike into the ground near the other entrance. A heavy length of chain was attached to it. The other end of the chain was tied around the neck of a razorling. Five feet long, the razorling stood on four paws. Each finger was tipped with a curved and
wicked talon. The creature’s body was thin and clearly built for speed. Its mouth was filled with razor sharp fangs that were snapping open and shut, only inches away from the badger.

Even sprites avoided packs of these sadistic hunters. The razorlings gained their name by the tendency to toy with prey. They never killed quickly if they could avoid it, but instead would disable. Then, to the sound of their cackling laughter, would swipe at the body of their victim making small razor sharp incisions. The sprite hunters had told Sion it could take near an hour for the razorlings to finish their kill.

The chain was short enough that the badger was safe, but only so long as it huddled at the far end of the crevasse. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough entertainment for the humans. Four of the filthy men were standing around the lip of crevice laughing and hooting. The fifth was down in the crevasse, but on the other side of the stone wall from the badger. The men had left a small hole in the wall, and they used it to poke a spear at the poor creature. Never too deeply, but enough to cause it to shy away from the weapon. That would of course bring it closer to the razorling, who would struggle to reach the badger with renewed vigor. The fear of the predator would overwhelm the pain of the spear, and the badger would huddle against the stone wall again. All of this happened to the cheers and horrible laughter of the men, drinking from jugs and slapping each other on the back. After a minute, one would shout in common tongue, “More!” The man behind the wall would jab the spear forward, and the entire travesty would start again.

Sion and Kurian watched this with horror. They had never been exposed to wanton cruelty before. They both lost their innocence that night, watching while the men tortured the cave badger for mere amusement.

It wasn’t long before even the small squeals of pain and terror the men were eliciting weren’t enough to quench their appetites. One of the men, with a large scar on his face, took a long pull of whatever they were drinking, and said, “Finish it Rall.”

The man stabbed the badger again, but instead of withdrawing this time, he continued to push the animal forward. The badger squealed in panic, but the pain of the spear tip kept it from retreating. With a forceful jab, the badger jumped away from the weapon. And into the reach of the razorling.

“No,” Kurian shouted.

Sion clapped his hand over his friend’s mouth, afraid to draw the attention of the evil humans. One of the men looked up to locate the source of the noise. Luckily, the other drunkards were too obsessed with their vicious sport to hear. Soon the one man who had taken heard Kurian looked back to crevasse to enjoy the dying screams the forest animal. The two boys huddled in the undergrowth afraid to move, and learned that the sprite hunters had been wrong.

The screams of the badger only lasted half an hour.

Night was falling by the time the men walked away from their amusement. The walked over to where they had been roasting their meat, and settled down with a fresh jug.

“Did you see all that blood,” one man with a scraggly red beard asked. “We will get a great price for that thing in the pits!”

“Hahaha,” another replied. “I say we throw something else in later.” The other men cheered and agreed.

The man with the scar stood up. “Now listen you motherless pigs! A bit of fun is one thing, but I won’t have you cutting into our profits! Now get some sleep, because we leave in the morning. We have enough in the cages, and I’m tired of these stinking woods. Rall, you have first watch.”

One or two of the men grumbled, but no real dissent was raised. They settled in for the night, except for Rall. He sat with his back to the fire, looking disinterested in his duties as guard.

Once Sion heard the sounds of snoring, he motioned for Kurian to follow him away from the camp. They stayed silent until they were several hundred yards away, then Sion paused and whispered urgently.

“Stop Kurian!”

“What,” his friend hissed back. “Why? We need to get away from here!”

“They are going to torture and kill all of those animals. We have to free them.”

“No,” Kurian said, shaking his head. “When we can get back we can tell the warriors. They will be able to stop them.”

“Those humans are leaving at dawn,” Sion argued. “They might leave the forest before the warriors can catch them.” He drew himself up, puffing out his chest. “It is our duty to protect the forest and its creatures.” He had heard his mother say the same thing many times. Sion knew full well that she had not meant for two sprite youths to risk death against a band of cut throats, but he wouldn’t let that stand in the way of his youthful bravado.

“Sion,” Kurian pleaded, fear evident on his face, “there are only two of us. Those humans are full grown, and they have weapons.”

Sion expression became condescending and judgmental, “Iiiii will do my duty as a sprite. You can leave if you are afraid.” He turned and started walking back to the camp. Kurian fell into line just as he always did when Sion bated him. Just as Sion knew he would.

Watching this memory unfold, Sion’s spirit struggled with renewed fury to take control of his younger self. He didn’t want to see what was about to happen. Living through it once was more than anyone should ever have to endure! Despite his efforts though, he remained only a spectator.

The two sprites walked back towards the camp. When they got closer, they circled around to come at the wagon from the opposite direction. Sion’s plan was simple. They would sneak up to the cages, keeping the wagon between themselves and the men as cover. All of the cages on one side were locked with the same chain. Sion would break the lock and Kurian would pull the chain. They might not free all of the animals, but they would free most. In the chaos afterwards, the two boys would fade back into the forest, and then go back to the Hearth Tree to warn their people.

At first, it looked like Sion’s plan would work. The two boys made their way to the wagon undetected. The lock did not seem too large, and Sion was already wearing Strength enhancing armor, a perk of being the son of the Hearth Mother. He thought one blow from a rock would break it. With a last look at Kurian to see that he was ready to pull the chain, Sion raised the stone in his hand. That was when Kurian screamed.

The cage that Sion’s friend was standing in front of apparently contained a nettler. The over large spider was named after the spikes sticking randomly from its body. It had reached through the cage and stuck one of its spikes into Kurian. It quickly its injected venom, and he fell to the ground, paralyzed. Sion bashed the nettler with his rock, making it withdraw back into the cage, but the damage was done. He was reaching down to carry his friend away when he heard a sound behind him. Looking back, all he saw was something falling towards his face, and then, blackness.

When Sion came to, he was bound in front of the fire. Kurian was tied up on the ground next to him. The boy was awake. Nettler venom, while potent, was also short lived. His friend was struggling to shout, but was gagged as well. Kurian’s face was bloodied and one eye was swelling shut.

“Look! The other one is up!”

The face of the scarred man came into Sion’s view. “Well hello little guy,” the man said with false kindness. “Now we haven’t been introduced. I am Broyin, and these are my men,” he said with the mockery of a flourished bow. He loosened Sion’s gag. “What is your name?”

Sion looked up at the man, defiantly not speaking. Broyin smiled happily, and slapped Sion soundly across the face. The sprite saw stars and tasted blood in his mouth. He blinked his vison clear and focused back on the man’s face. He steeled his expression, and looked back into Broyin’s eyes with his lips pressed firmly together.

The man laughed loudly and was joined by his men. “Well you have some fire in you, I’ll give you that!” He slapped Sion again, harder this time. The sprite’s head fell back and bounced off the ground. He might have lost consciousness for a short period. When he was able to focus, he realized that he was gagged again. He looked about and saw that Broyin was standing over Kurian.

“There you are! Thought I might have hit you too hard, little guy! Now Sion,” the sprite’s eyes widened. “Yes I know your name.
Kurian
here was much more cooperative than you were. He told us your name, about the Hearth Tree, AND he told us something else. It was
your
idea to come and try to steal the results of our hard earned labor.” Kurian was staring at Sion, tears running down his face. His eyes silently begged for his friend’s forgiveness. Sion tried to communicate with his facial expressions that there was no need to even ask. It was clear that the men had been abusive.

Now that makes you the leader,” Broyin said. “The boss! The shot caller! Him that lays down the law!” The man laughed. “Now as one boss to another, let me take this opportunity to teach you something. It is important for a boss to consider all of the angles. You need to expect the unexpected. You didn’t expect the spiked spider to be in that crate, which is why
Kurian here was paralyzed, which is why Rall was able to slam his truncheon into your face. Do you understand?” Broyin looked at Sion’s angry face and smiled.

“Good! I’m glad you’re listening! Now the next thing you need to know as a boss, is that it is important to keep your men happy. My man Tic over here…,” Broyin indicated one of the other men. “Wave to Sion, Tic. That’s nice. As my mam used to say, good manners cost nothing, but bad manners might cost you your balls. Now where was I? Oh yes! As I was saying, Tic
here
wanted another show tonight. Earlier, I said no, because I thought it might be wasteful. These animals we caught are precious cargo. BUT!” Broyin walked back over to Sion and stooped down. His voice lowered and his smile turned evil, “We have more options now, don’t we?”

Standing quickly, the man clapped his hands together, walking back over to Sion’s friend. His voice was magnanimous once again, “Now the next thing I want you to learn isn’t a boss to boss lesson. It’s more of a man to boy type of lesson.” He picked Kurian up by the throat, and removed his gag. The boy struggled to breathe, but still couldn’t catch his breath in with Broyin’s hand tight on his neck. “This lesson is called: ‘If you make a mistake, sometimes others pay the price’,” and with that, he dragged Kurian across the camp, and dumped him into the crevasse.

There was a moment of stillness, as if The Land itself was taking notice of the atrocity being committed. Then there was a low growl. After that, the night filled with screams. Four of the men ran over with torches to watch the show, hooting and hollering. Not Broyin though. He just stared at Sion the whole time, that evil smile on his face. He watched the sprite
struggling to get free, screaming against his gag, threatening muffled curses with one breath and tearfully begging for his friend’s life the next. Through it all Broyin just watched, unmoved and still smiling. Through it all, Kurian screamed Sion’s name, begging his friend to save him.

The razorling wasn’t starving anymore, so it didn’t rush. Kurian didn’t stop screaming for a full hour. At least that is the way it seemed to Sion. It was hard to tell though. He reached his emotional limit before it was done, like a rag completely rung of water. Though Sion didn’t have the word for it at the time, he later realized he had fallen into a glassy eyed form of shock. Blessedly, the pleading screams of his best friend being eaten alive stopped searing his soul after a time.