Deathless

Deathless Chapter Seventeen: Captivity

Chapter Seventeen: Captivity

Risselyn heard the unmistakable sound of bowstrings being drawn back around them. He felt the tip of an arrow graze his back. Not enough to hurt him, but enough for him to feel the cold flint tip prick his skin. Just enough to give him an accurate way of imagining how it would feel to have the arrow through his throat. He dared not look about him, but he could feel the bows pointed at his back.

Risselyn felt his fingers tingle as they groped for his sword, on instinct, but he stopped himself. Something told him that whoever these ruffians were, they would not hesitate to put an arrow in his back.

Behind him came the soft, sharp noise of daggers being drawn from their sheaths. Two men wielding scimitars had gathered around Sirya. Her eyes were fiery, as she glanced back and forth between her two combatants.

Vanya had been restrained instantly. A man grabbed her from behind and held a dagger to her neck. 

Lindale had taken a bit more effort. He sucker punched the first man who came at him, sending him to the ground clutching his stomach. He made to grab his battle-axe, but a hooded archer that had come out of nowhere fired a warning shot that went right past his head.

Lindale stopped going for his axe. The archer nocked another arrow. “The next one won’t miss,” he warned.

Sirya, upon seeing the dagger pressed to Vanya’s throat, paused. She looked over at Vanya, who gave her a stone cold look. “Stand down,” she muttered.

Sirya sheathed her daggers and allowed the two men to restrain her.

“Well, what do we have here?” came a serpent-like voice from the trees to their right. A small, shrewd man with a scimitar strapped to his side, tilted eyebrows and angled blue eyes like ice, stepped out from the shadows. More ruffians stepped out from nowhere. Some wielded clubs. Others had swords. And others more had axes.

Risselyn spotted the faint glow of the polished flint tips of the arrows in the canopies around them. Archers were perched on the trees about them, bows drawn, arrows nocked, ready to shoot them at the first sign of danger.

Risselyn cursed. Somehow these thugs had known they’d be here. They’d walked into an ambush!

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded of the small man. “What do you want with us?”

“The name’s Captain Beornlaf,” he said in a voice like the hissing of a serpent. “Captain o’ the Forest Raider Pirates. Pleased to meet ya.”

He held out a dirty hand. Risselyn took one look at it, turned his eyes to Beornlaf’s face with a look of pure loathing, and gripped the hand firmly.

Beornlaf laughed. And then he struck him.

Risselyn reeled from the blow. Beornlaf didn’t seem to have much in the way of strength, but it caught him by surprise. Risselyn stumbled, but he did not fall. Beornlaf seemed to find that amusing.

“So ya still got some fight left in there, eh?” he said with an evil grin. “We’ll beat that out of ya soon enough.”

And then, just as Risselyn began to rise, he staggered him again with a kick to the stomach.

“Stop it!” Vanya shouted. “Just tell us what you want.”

Beornlaf then turned away from Risselyn and glared at her. It seemed that only now he noticed the other three captives. He looked disapprovingly at Lindale, as if considering whether or not it would be easier to just put a sword in his back. He glanced over Vanya, and his eyes came to rest on Sirya. He turned away from her after a few moments, hardly noticeable, but Vanya had noticed his stare.