Page 37 of Empire's Curse

He pushed away from the wagon and went back to the campfire. Daiyu lay back down on the foul-smelling hay, her shoulders aching from being forced behind her back for so long, and the skin on her wrists burning from the ropes.

The night sky was littered with tiny, sparkling stars, and she could only stare at them silently.

A week passedof simply traveling with the band of rugged bandits. During that time, Daiyu was mostly the center of jeers and ill intention. She was given enough food not to pass out, but not enough to be full every night. She hadn’t made any attempts to leap off the wagon and make a run for it because when they started traveling through the mountains, she didn’t want to risk dying by flinging herself into the sharp, uneven terrain below.

The more they traveled, the colder the climate became, and it was then that she noticed that all the men were dressed for winter in thick cloaks and furs, and that she was the only one in her flimsy, silk nightdress. They were likely going up north, wherethe weather was colder and wintery. It was also where Muyang was and likely where this General Keung person was.

It was only when they left the mountainside and were camped in a forest that Daiyu even considered running. The night air was cool against her skin, and Qian was more preoccupied with scolding one of his drunk bandits than he was with watching her. Daiyu inched closer to the edge of the wagon. The other men were either eating and tending to their weapons or talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. No one seemed to be paying her any attention.

Daiyu twisted her wrists against the ropes. She had been loosening her constraints against a snagged, splintered part of the wagon that she covered with hay for the past week. She had poked her wrist and fingers against the rough wood multiple times, and her flesh was sore and swollen from being pricked and prodded for so long. But her pain was worth it because when she shimmied her shoulders and yanked at her hand, the rope began slipping—just barely—down to her thumb. She tried to keep her face expressionless as she continued to slide her fingers free.

The skin of her wrists was raw and bleeding, but she barely glanced at them, her attention instead drawn to the rest of the men. Once again, they were ignoring her. They had become accustomed to her silence and her captivity—drunk on arrogance that she would never try anything against them.

Daiyu silently hauled herself over the railing of the wagon and landed on her feet by the wheels. Her breath came out strained, and her numb legs wobbled from not being used for over a week. The cold, damp earth felt rough against her bare feet, and she prayed it wouldn’t slow her down. Her muscles screamed as she kept herself low and backed away from the men. Her heart raced and adrenaline rushed through her veins. It didn’t matter where she ran—she needed to escape as far as possible from them.

She continued to creep backward and slipped behind a tree, her breaths coming out in small, raspy gasps that sounded too loud to her own blood-rushed ears. She froze when a twigsnapped beneath her feet, but nobody moved—they continued conversing with one another.

Finally, she turned and hurried through the forest, trying as hard as she could not to barrel through the branches and bushes. Her breath puffed out in white streams as she jogged forward.

Someone shouted from behind her, and she dropped all her carefulness and sprinted. Branches ripped through her hair and cut her arms and legs, but she didn’t let that slow her down. Her thighs and calves burned with exertion, and her lungs stung with every breath she took. She could hear grunts and shouts intensify behind her, and the snapping of branches and twigs. She didn’t even register the pain of her feet—as fallen branches, bramble, and thorns cut through them.

She didn’t dare turn around. She didn’t dare lose focus on moving one foot in front of the other. She didn’t dare?—

Something—or someone—tackled her from behind and she shot forward, landing hard on her elbows and knees. She tried clawing the earth as the man grabbed a hold of her shoulder and neck. Tears blurred her vision and she kicked and screamed as he hauled her to her feet.

She had been so close.

So close to escaping from these rugged, evil men.

The man slapped her across the face, his breathing labored and his face twisted anger. She fell to the side, her face throbbing. He clamped a hand tightly on her bicep—tight enough to leave marks—and yanked her toward him. He was screaming something at her, but she couldn’t hear him, not from the shrillness of her own shrieks.

He threw her over his shoulder and began heading back. She punched his back and flailed her legs, trying to hit any part of him. Tears of frustration and fear blurred her vision. Qian’s threat boomed in her head, and she didn’t want to imagine what he would do to her now that she tried to escape. Would he attack her? Torture her? Strip her naked as punishment?

When the men regrouped at their campsite, the man holdingher flung her to the ground. She crashed like a rag doll, the back of her head cracking against the cold earth, and a stab of pain shot up her back from an especially sharp rock she had landed on. She rolled over on her hands and knees, her entire body shivering.

“What do we do with her, boss?” one of the men said, spitting on the ground by her hands. “I say we take her as she is.”

“Don’t you dare touch me!” she spat, struggling to her feet. The world was spinning, and the group of men appeared to be doubling. When she blinked, her vision righted itself, but the darkness of the night made them look taller and more formidable. She had never felt so small and vulnerable in her life.

Qian stepped forward, his scarred face appearing more grotesque in the moonlight. His lips curled back. “I warned you.”

“Stay away!” Daiyu backed away from him, but the men had created a ring around her. Each of their faces were carved with cruelty and salacious expectance. Her breaths heaved out of her body in quick succession. More adrenaline rushed through her body, and she curled her fists together to fight the first man who jumped on her.

Before any of them could inch closer, something moved quickly from behind Qian. One moment, the man was closing in on her, the next moment, something sharp poked out from his neck. Daiyu could barely blink back her confusion, time seeming to slow as Qian’s face distorted in dazed confusion. Blood coated the tip of the blade sticking out from him. He reached forward to touch it, but the sword was yanked free before he could.

It all happened in a split second.

Just as Qian fell to his knees, the foreigner, wielding the now blood-stained sword, swung his weapon at the man beside him. The man barely saw it coming. The weapon bit into his neck and severed it easily. A spray of blood followed, raining down on Atreus, but he was already moving to the next bandit.

Daiyu watched in stunned silence as the men moved in slow motion to react, their hands fumbling over the hilts of their own weapons. He was too fast, though, and even when the othersswarmed him, he disarmed them quickly. A stab here, a jab there—he lopped off limbs in seconds.

In the chaos and confusion, Daiyu backed away and scrambled to where the horses were tied. She wouldn’t let this random act of infighting stop her from escaping. The horses were stamping and neighing, their ears shifting toward the screams and shouts. When she neared the first horse, she patted its neck and tried to calm it down.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she said, her fingers dancing between the soft mane. “It’s fine!”

When the horse calmed down enough where she didn’t think it would stamp her to death, she began working on untying the ropes keeping it tied to a tree. Her hands shook violently, and she wasn’t sure if it was from panic or fear.

Breathing out deeply, she undid the knot and tried reaching for the saddle. She had never ridden a horse before, and the creature loomed over her. She wondered briefly if it knew she was inexperienced, and a shiver ran down her spine at the thought of being flung off the horse or dragged by the reins.

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