Halonar

The Blade and the Bucket

Jack awoke to a thump. He slowly began to make sense of his surroundings. He heard the clip-clop of hooves, and the creaking and groaning of wood.

I'm in a... In a...

"Good, yer' awake." A gravely voice spoke.

His vision cleared. Jack was sitting in a, surprisingly comfortable, chair in a carriage. Beams of light shot though the small opening in the front. The first thing he noticed about the carriage was that it was not covered with cloth or canvas, but rather solid wood.

"Hey." The man snapped his fingers. "I was talking to you. Unfortunately, we couldn't let you die, but don't worry, you'll probably have some time for that later."

Jack took his time to observe some more, before he faced the man. He didn't say anything, just giving him a nod.

The man was sitting with his legs crossed. The man was about average height. Not too stocky, but he was muscular, obviously he from his demanding career, He wore plate armor with the toothed arrow emblem on the left breast like any other soldier, expect for the fact he had several rank chevrons the covered most of his right breast. Jack slowly went up the mans face. He had several scars and was missing part of his ear.

He pinched out a flame in candle next to him.

"Get I get smoke? My pipes in my sachel."

"Don't have it. If you want your sachel, it right where I found it at." He jerked his thumb in the opposite direction that they were moving.

He leaned forward with a smirk on his face. "Judging from your teeth, it's pretty obvious you haven't smoked a day in your life. But I would give you one if I had one. You wont be needing your teeth for much longer, depending on what method of punishment the king shall apply."

Jack said nothing.

"Why did you assassinate Princess Zalina?"

They must have quick messangers.

He still said nothing.

The man relaxed his position. "What is your name?"

Silence.

The man got up, putting up the latern on a shelf. He grunted. "I was simply asking, so we would have something to put on a gravestone."

Jack still said nothing. Why would he? Talking to Oberion wouldn't do anything useful. I wouldn't buy him time. He certainly wouldn't be able to talk himself to freedom. The only thing that talking to Oberion would do woul be to distract him from coming up with a plan to escape.

The man stared at him. Trying to mentally unravel Jack's motives and origins.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few minutes, Oberion got up and walked to the front of the carriage, disappearing behind the canvas. As he did, light shot through the space between the canvas. Jack moved to cover his face, but his hands were bolted down, forcing him to squit and readjust his vision.

In that burst of light he manage to catch a quick glimpse of the rest of the interior of the carriage. There was a chest, which must have been where they were keeping his stuff, a few other cargo-looking crates, a shelf with nothing on it, illuminated by the lantern which sat on it.

Listen to you surroundings. Pay attention. Act.

He squeezed his eyes shut. He heard the creaks of wood, the clip-clop of hooves, probably oxen, the squeeking of the axel, and the chirping of birds... to about his right.

Those birds that always woke him up in the morning, the annoying ones.

Morning... It must be morning!