Erys: An Eragon Fanfiction - (Under Editing)

Chapter Two

The March

Erys fought not to shake, and though he frightened her, she maintained eye contact with the brutish man.

"Have it your way." He grabbed the hood, ready to yank it off.

"No!" Erys fought back. She landed a kick between his legs, clawed at his hand.

"I should gut you right now!"

"Gethayn!"

He stopped with the blade as Erys' throat. She could feel its sharp prick against her skin. Any closer and she'd be choking on her own blood.

He lowered the dagger. "They was talkin'!"

Erys struggled to free herself. Gethayn, though, had a strong grip. He pulled her closer to his chest. She felt her bones might break should he squeeze any harder.

"I don't care! I need him in one piece!"

Gethayn threw Erys to the ground and stomped about like a wild boar. She turned her eyes away and huddled, shielding her body from whatever blows might come. She wanted to make a break for it, run right there. But she knew she would be caught. Then she'd have no chance at a real escape later.

Gethayn sized Eirdain. "What about 'im?"

The leaded shrugged. "Just don't kill him. He'll fetch us a good price at Gil'ead."

"And that one?" He pointed with the dagger at Erys who remained huddled in the dirt.

"Teach him a lesson. But I want him in once piece."

"One piece?" Gethayn nodded and shoved the dagger back in his belt. "One piece," he repeated. He smiled and gathered Erys' lead rope. "I can work with one piece," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm sorry! Please. I won't do it again!" she begged. She pulled back, futiely resisting her impending torture. She turned to the captain. "Please! Please, I'm sorry." The rope burned into her skin as she pulled against it, and she ended up being dragged from the caravan. The remaining captives cast glances at her from the corner of the ditch as they began to walk again. She continued to beg.

Gethayn disregarded her pleas and dragged her to the ditch.

"I'm sorr-" She stopped as his fist slammed into her gut. She heaved, and what little remained on her stomach, she threw up. She tried crawling away, but he dragged her back by the rope.

Her screams no doubt carried to the caravan as they continued their march. A few moments later Eirdain's cries mingled with her own. Judging by his cries, his beating would be worse than hers. His torturer didn't have to hold back.

It was hard to tell how long Gethayn beat her. She lost count of the blows she received. The harder she fought, the more he seemed to think she could take. He tied her rope to a branch and she gave up the fight. There was nowhere for her to run. Instead, she curled into herself and tried to protect herself from the blows.

She bit her lip to keep from crying out, masking her cries when she couldn't contain them. The harder she fought to remain silent, the harder he beat her. Erys did not attempt to stop the tears that leaked from her eyes, though. She let herself sob, hoping that any sign of weakness might buy her a reprieve.

Eventually, she gave up shielding herself from the cruel blows. There was no point, no when a kick would cause pain wherever she was hit. Erys turned her thoughts away from the present moment; she thought back to the times she and her family would eat together, ride together. Sometimes before bed, they would sing. The thoughts allowed her to endure the pain, though the grief accompanying those thoughts was itself, its own kind of torture.