Captured: A White Road Tale novella #1

Chapter Two: Captured

Over a hundred people, both young and old, were herded to the center of DeTiere. Those who protested or tried to fight were chained together, even down to the smallest of children. Tarek watched as one family, their dark faces set in scowls, were shackled to a sturdy oak. The youngest, of nearly four summers, wearing torn breeches, sat and tried to work his skinny wrist from the manacle.

A scream blasted through the crowd. Tarek spun toward the awful noise, as did many of those standing around his family. Three soldiers on horseback circled a man lying prostrate in the dirt with an arrow protruding from his back. One of the ironclad men loaded his bow and finished off the would-be runner. Slowly, Tarek turned back to the shackled family only to find the mother chastising the boy to stop struggling. She pulled him onto her lap and held his hands to make him stop.

"Let them kill me. I don't care anymore." Brie jerked free from Olden's grasp. They'd all been put in chains except Pop. Brie had ordered Tarek to run with Vesia out the rear exit and into the desert, but they had only made it a few yards before the Racans surrounded them.

Vesia buried her pixie-shaped face into Tarek's chest. "Do something, Tare." Her tears soaked his thin shirt. "She listens to you. Please, make her stop."

Olden wrapped his arms around his wife. He had readily agreed to go without a struggle, so the soldiers hadn't bound him. Such a dog.

Tarek glared at his father with boiling hate. Olden should have let them leave with Uncle when the first warnings had come nearly a month ago. Stubborn fool. Tarek swallowed down the bile taste of anger and resentment.

"Brie, my heart," Olden coaxed, his voice smooth and persuasive. "You ain’t leaving me to face this alone, darlin'." He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at her children.

Despite his anger, Tarek silently pleaded with her to comply. She had to. They needed her.

"Come on, Ma, we've been through worse." His whisper sounded like sand rubbed together.

Ma clutched a golden disk to her chest where she usually kept it secured on a chain and hidden under her shirt. For some odd reason, Pop hated her little token and often chastised her for keeping it. But then again, he despised anything she kept from her life before they were married… any trinkets or memorabilia, and especially her whimsical stories. Those he hated the most.

Olden yanked her bound arms down, pried the disk from her grasp, and cast it far into the brush. Ma screamed, falling to her knees. He bent beside her, his hand pressing on the back of her neck. "Warned you about that cursed bauble, thinking you can hang onto what once was. Fool! That'll get us killed where we're going. Now listen to me." He grabbed her bony shoulders and shook her hard. "You made your choices, like you've always said." His hands clasped her face, forcing her to look at him. "Ain’t I taken care of you?"

She nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Haven't I given you an exciting life, like you wished?"

Her head turned, trying to see where her beloved token might have landed.

Olden jerked her back around, his face inches from hers. "You’re my wife. You’ll listen and do what I say. You ain’t gonna cave in to weakness, not when me and the children need you. We have to stick together, hear me?"

Tarek pulled away from his sister and went over to sit beside his mother. The chains clattered and clanked between his hands. "Listen to Pop. You can't let Vesia see what they'll do to you. Please hang on until we find a way out of this."

Her whole body trembled, but eventually, she nodded in consent. Releasing a long breath, Tarek turned to Vesia only to find she was gone. He started to stand, needing to find her before the soldiers realized she made another run for it.