Courtesy of a her own journal.
An exert by Eliza Cooper, formerly Eliza Black
"Wake up! Please!"
"What is it Drew? I'm fine!"
"Eliza! We need to go- now"
"What happened?"
"Silver shot you in the ankle."
"He what? That was Silver?"
"Yes! Listen, the Hammerites are coming, we need to go!"
"Where are they? Silver and Adalayde I mean."
"They left us!" Drew's voice was choked with emotion.
"They.. left.. us..." I repeated stupidly.
"Oy! You there! You two there!" I gruff man with a hammer smashing a mountain emblazoned on his chest stood over us. "I caught me some! Children no less! Look at this Steiner!"
"Steiner" ran over.
"Ahh yes! Nice find Garry!"
Garry was a thickly built man. Big, rough, looked like he was a little thick in the mind.
Steiner was thin and lanky. He had brilliant blue eyes and looked to be intelligent.
Gary heaved the both of us up by the scruff and dragged us over to a cart. We were dragged over the charred bodies of the men who had been caught in the blast. Some Hammerites were systematically killing all the wounded. A few unharmed soldiers, including themselves, were getting dragged to similar carts.
The cart itself looked evil. Bedraggled men, thin beyond imagination, soon to pass from the realm of the living were stuffed into the cart.
The cart was a small one, about six feet wide and eight feet long. It had a roof supported my iron bars. We were packed into the jail, as it was now apparent, cart. There were most likely fourteen others already inside. After two more were pushed in, it was obviously full, and they closed the small door.
"Well what now?" Drew asked.
"We sit here for a very, very long time," I told him.
He moved so his back was resting on the "wall" furthest from the door. I snuggled up next to him, getting so there was no space between us. It saved room, plus comforted us.
"How often do we receive food?" One of the soldiers that bad been thrown in with us asked.
"How often does it look?" One of the thin men answered.
"Not often?" The soldier guessed grimly.
The answer was said even more grimly, "Not once since I was thrown into this accursed cart!"
"We get water every two days though. And at least they are generous with THAT" another man put in.
"My gods... they are monsters!" The soldier commented deflating, dejected, defeated.
YOU ARE READING
All Adventure Begins with Tragedy
FantasyFirst book of the Silver Chronicles. Silver was only fourteen years old when it happened. When they came. They destroyed everything he knew and loved. Except one thing. Clare. And she had run. She had just been following Silver's orders, but now th...
