The Everdark Chronicles: Descendant

5. A Blind Eye (Incomplete)

The Dimbark forest was not the kind of place you told your children about before laying them down to bed. It was not at all the place that happy tales sprung from. Instead it was a reminder that one should always lock ones door at night. It was here, among the black moss of a great tree trunk that Bartiman's boots slipped.

This was the sort of thing he had expected , or at least was warned about before leaving the decks of the Intrepid. Canopy Jak's words still hung heavy on his mind. Evil lied in wait here, somewhere deep in the tainted realm. It had unsettled Bartiman severely to the point where facing down the swords of the pirate crew sounded quite appealing in his mind. It was while he was in his thoughts however that Bartiman realized he was being watched.

First mate Mivers, second only to Captain Kortchak himself had been eyeing the camp sight Bartiman had layed out for himself. Menial was a better word to describe the effort which the big man had made for himself when it came to the bed he had wished for himself to sleep on. He could tell that Mivers cared nothing for it as he approached the big man, kick apart the bedding of leaves and small twig he had just laid down. 

Mivers spoke disdainfully at him, "Life doesn't suit you too well, does it slave?" Mivers spoke disdainfully at him, "You would do well to sleep lightly, since the days you have are numbered already. He cracked a toothless grin that soured Bartiman's stomach. Miver's watched approvingly as worry ran across the big man's face. He continued to kick away the bedding and then stopped. "Don't be getting too comfortable, I don't need a reason to kill you.." He paused for a second putting his finger on his chin, "Still I'm looking forward to whatever reason you give me, I'll be waiting."

'sleep won't find it's fortune tonight,' Bartiman knew. Mivers, the detestable man made sure of that as Bartiman watched him march away in almost a dance to inspect the camps of the other captives nearby. He had to wonder if this was really all worth it, 'why didn't Jak agree with the mutiny!' His thoughts screaming at him accusingly. Opportunity is greater than gold, still the sweat that lingered on Bartiman's brow was a part of his reality now.

The light of the moon was fading, bringing forth a cool that came with the night wind. Taking the time to remake his bed, Bartiman laid down. Unhappy at the poking of twigs and the hard ground. He hadn't been able to seek out a better place to lay because every time he had Karver turned him away. It was befitting he supposed that he should after all be forced to lay on the ground like so. It was a punishment he owed to himself mostly. He should have killed Kortchak when he had the chance. He should have, but the should haves were now a lie. 

Moments felt like hours in the Dimbark. the trees let off a faint aroma of rotted leaf which smelt sweet. It was the night itself and more in particular who was out there that bother Bartiman the most. Would Karver be the one to get him, or would Mivers gutsy up and stick him? The probability was high that an incident would occur and someone would eventually get at him- if the darklings in the woods didn't kill him first. 

"Either way, I'm not about to die that easily." He grumbled to himself for fear of being overheard at all by anybody. There was no trust here and no reasoning your way out of the grip of desperate men. Bartiman's mind wandered in and out of short patches of sleep until finally his eyes saw the faint white dim of the moon descended below the below the crooked tree tops.