The first and second parts of this story can be read here:
I’m dreaming, roaming among the white clouds high above the lands, and I hear somebody singing.
“Come from the wide, wide world, Where dangers and peril abound! Oh how can you roam so far from your home, Where safety and comfort are found?
Somebody kicked me hard in my side. “Wake up strawhead!” somebody sneered. Before I manage to respond I get another kick, but this time the person kicked me in my face, nearly breaking my jaw in the process. Dizzy from the pain and working hard to collect my thoughts, I try to spit out the blood and slime that have accumulated after the kick, only to discover my mouth is gagged with a rag and I vomit, realizing the foul taste of it. My mouth is filled with all kinds of filth, I'm starting to cough and it feels like somebody is choking me, since only a little of it gets past the rag that has me gagged. Instead it also fills up my nostrils, making it naught impossible to breath, which again makes me twitch more and as a reward, somebody starts kicking me again, several times.
“Stop kicking the forgoil.” somebody says with a commanding voice and the kicking stops, leaving me on the ground, still gagging and suffocating from many new bruises, but luckily nothing feels broken. “Remove that gag! Can’t ye see he is choking?” I hear from the same commanding voice and to my relief the gag is forcibly removed. Laying on the cold snow covered ground, I puke my guts out and somebody kicks me in my stomach, forcing more of the bitter bile out. “I said stop it ye witless worm:” It is the same voice, but this time there is more anger in his words, clearly annoyed at the person kicking me. “What? I was only helping him to empty his cowardly guts:” says another person, with a thin slick voice, most likely the one who has kicked me.
Trying to breath properly again, I spit out the remaining sour saliva in my mouth. Laying there in the snow coughing, I’m getting slowly back to my senses and I shiver because of the cold. I also noticed for the first time, that my hands are tied behind my back. So when I try to roll over, working myself up into a sitting position, somebody kicks me in my back and forces me into the ground again, before I can get a look at my captors. “Do that again ye worm and ye will be joining the forgoil on the ground!” an angry voice shouts. “What? He tried to escape.” the thin slick voice counter, followed by a giggle..
“Get him up and bring him over to me.” the commanding voice order. I’m pulled off the ground by two men, turned around and dragged toward a campfire, like a weak puppy. I'm nauseous, cold, bruised all over the body and have a throbbing headache. All of it working against me, trying to grasp the situation I’m in. The only light is from the campfire and it’s nighttime. On the other side of the campfire a large bearded man is watching me, while he chews on a bone ripe with meat. Stopping in front of the fire, the man indicated with his hand that I should sit. Still trying to gather information about the situation, I probably act too slow and somebody slaps me hard on the head. “Sit down you coward!” the thin voice behind me says. I start to turn around to see who owns that voice and get rewarded with a hard elbow in the face, making me fall on my back.
Down on the ground, the darkness within me grows and I force myself up, trying to turn around toward the assaulter, only to be rewarded with another blow to the head. “I said stop it!” The commanding voice is filled with anger now. “The forgoil is no threat, unless you are afraid of him bond up, cold and beaten.” There is a short pause. “Right now, this coward, as you call him, is braver than you and if you continue to ignore my commands, I will let him fight you.” Behind me I hear a short intake of breath and gritting of teeth's, but the man behind me keeps his tongue.
Trying to get up into a sitting position and as close to the fire as possible, I turn my head around again and look up at my assaulter. There I see another large dark haired, but a younger man, who looks at me with pure hatred. I return the stare and exercise all my will and anger, feeding on the growing darkness from within to… “Hey forgoil” The commander shouts, interrupting my thoughts. “No need to test your mettle with that child, but face me instead and my questions.” I spit on the ground before my assaulter and turn around to face the man who seems to be in charge and now wants to interrogate me.
“Good… good, I see my judgement about you is not entirely wrong forgoil.” The man takes a bite of his food and starts chewing, watching me. I decide to wait and see where this conversation leads me, not interested in playing these mind games. The man continued to eat for some time, before he put down the food and speaks again. “I could ask why are you intruding our lands and why did you run, when we found you… but we both know the answer to that already.” He looks at me, to see if I reply, which I don’t. He nods and continues. “I’m Cegdid, son of Ceth and I’m a hunter of dunland enemies.” The large man tilts his head, before continuing. “And I assume you are such, aren’t you forgoil?” He let the question hang in the air, obviously expecting me to answer.
“I might be that, if dunland threatens my mark and it’s people.” I respond and the man nods in agreement. “We are of a similar mind then forgoil.” He replies. “Do you have a name forgoil? Or are all men of the mark as ill mannered as you, that they do not give their name in return, when the other part offers its own first?” he picks up his food and starts eating again, waiting for me to reply.
“I'm known as Duncadda.” I say and cannot avoid looking at the warm meat the man is eating. I'm cold, famished and thanks to the man behind me, my stomach is empty and I have hardly any energy left to either fight or to escape. Not at least to escape, since this group seems capable of tracking down their prey. The only options left are fighting, but I’m no longer in condition to do that either. There is only one path from here and the man in front of me is the master of that.
The other man smiles at me. “Hmmm… I have heard about you, Duncadda, you have shared a campfire with some of my scouts from time to time.” He points at me with his index finger. “From them I have learned that you can be both a decent and dangerous opponent...” The man behind me, interrupts him. “Ye can't be serious Cegdid, this man who ran away from us, is no fighter… let me kill him now and be done with it.'' He then takes my hair and yanks my head backward towards him and I can feel a knife on my throat. I tilt my head slightly upward and expose my throat more, but I do not care for the knife, I’m searching for the stars and their light. If I die now, I want that to be the last I see and not the face of a dunlending.
to be continued in Winter Watch, Part four, Homebound
Copyrights
The story starts with lyrics, that are an extract from the poem Come back to the farm! and is written by the poet Henry Clay Work.
The art is made from a wallpaper and modified by me. The wallpaper can be found at this site: Starry Night Sky Wallpapers - Wallpaper Cave
