A Fistful of Dragons

Part 16: Dagur's Displeasure

Sixteen: Dagur's Displeasure

Vorg was cackling as he crumpled to the floor for the seventh time, a strong pair of hands grabbing his shoulders and wrenching him back onto increasingly unsteady legs. A couple of shots crunched into his already battered shape and he blocked a couple more powerful blows, then landed a punch on Ulric's face...but Eret fisted his hair, hauling him back and slamming his fists into Ryder's abused back. Before he could even gasp again, he was spun and punched ferociously to land across the sturdy table to the side of the vacant stable. Dagur instantly leaned across him, his forearm digging hard into Ryder's throat and crushing his windpipe.

"You're being very stubborn!" Dagur sneered at him, leaning so close his breath was ghosting over Ryder's bloody face.

"What c'I say...?" he mumbled thickly. "I don'like...way...talkin' t'me..."

Dagur hammered his fist into his side and he gave a low moan.

"Not...encouragin' me t'talk..." he gasped. Dagur took a step back-as Eret grabbed him again and crashed his fist into his face once more. He stumbled back but miraculously remained standing, then threw himself at the large trapper, his fists cracking into the man's smug face. He probably didn't do much damage but it felt like a major triumph to see blood smeared on his smarmy face. The piledriver in the chest it earned him was incidental though he made friends with the floor once more...until he was dragged up again by three of the men who decided it was their turn...

And so it went on. Dagur was getting more and more frustrated, screaming the questions at him as Vorg cackled at his pain and Eret brutally orchestrated the beating. But as Ryder hit the ground over and over, his face swollen with welts, one eye already closed and blood trickling from cuts over his cheeks, all he could see was a clear pair of azure eyes, staring into his with warmth and gratitude. Dagur wanted Astrid back...and Ryder knew where she was. If he would only share that knowledge, he would be freed...

"In a few days, you'll be back in shape and you can leave," Savage offered seductively.

While betraying her would condemn the young woman to repeated rape and abuse by the deranged Dagur...until he finally wearied of her and killed her, Ryder realised. Gustav would certainly be killed as a lesson to her...so why should he condemn someone else to the pain and horror his wife died of? The price was unthinkable...

...and he's never going to let you live anyway. Your only value is if you continue to provide him with a challenge, with amusement...

He staggered up once more, managing to catch Vorg across the face and shut the cackling up for a few seconds. The punches it earned him had him curled on the floor, kicks slamming into his broken ribs, a hand hauled up and burned cruelly by the man's cigar-butt. Bucket gave a slow grin and smashed his boot onto Ryder's other hand. He could hear the crunch of bones and gave a soundless cry...but in truth, he was almost done. The room was fading and sounds growing distant around him as he felt the tension ooze from his broken shape.

"Enough!" Dagur said suddenly "Wait until he comes round. This way he hardly feels it!" Bucket finished grinding his heel into Ryder's broken hand, causing a few tears to leak over his beaten face and then he heard the sounds of the men finally leaving, the door closing and bolts slamming home.

Shuddering and in a pool of blood and agony, he blearily glanced up. Everything hurt. There was no Red here to leap in with a roar and save him, no friends to sue for his release, no one... Ryder was on his own, abandoned to his fate with only himself to rely on. And he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn't survive another round with Dagur and his men...

oOo

Alvin stared down at the shape lain with reverence on his dining room table. Bente had not raised a single objection, silently watching the body of their adopted son returned to them by the twins. Crazy and unfathomable, they had been suitably solemn as they delivered the boy home and had agreed to collect the body the following day for a funeral.