“What man, Fearghal?” I ask.
A shuddering sensation courses down my leg as Fearghal quivers. “One oi promised ne’er to speak ‘is name. Says yer needed fer some’fin important,” he grumbles.
Whoever this man is must be quite menacing if this creature even fears to speak his name.
“Whatever he promised you, I’m sure my companions could pay the sum tenfold,” I say.
Fearghal doesn’t answer.
“The Cadre will come looking for me,” I say a bit louder than necessary.
“Quiet now, girly,” he grumbles, giving my ankle a slight tug. “Dat lot was snoozin’ like infants. Didn’t even ‘ear me grub ye. Sorry excuses fer guard dogs, those three.”
Three?
Only three of them were present?
Could the missing soldier be in the woods right now?
If not, what’ll happen to me once Fearghal hands me over to this man that he fears so much?
I refuse to let that happen.
Taking a deep big breath, I pray to Siorai this idiotic plan works.
“They’ll find me and skin you alive for abducting me, you bumbling oaf!” I yell loudly.
Fearghal stops moving, slowly turning a scathing scowl on me. “Whud yer call me?” he snarls.
“Bumbling. Oaf,” I say loudly, hoping someone might hear me.
Fearghal’s grip tightens, as he raises me upside down until I’m eye-level with his wart-ridden nose. His malodorous breath causes my stomach to curl. If I didn’t feel all of my blood rushing to my head at this moment, I’d vomit. “Oi’m not a bermbulin’ oaf,” he says.
Well, this isn’t going as expected.
Maybe if he’s angry enough, he’ll untie me and attempt to fight me for disrespecting his honor. It’s a long shot, but it’s the only shot I currently have before I’m sold to this mysterious buyer.
“My mistake,” I reply. “I meant to saypungent buffoon.”
Fearghal’s hand connects with my face; the sound cracks loudly, reminding me of rolling thunder. Stars dance in my vision as the sting radiates through my jaw. “Oi changed my mind,” Fearghal declares, walkingover to a nearby tree. “Oi ain’t gun give yer o’er to dat bloody Malvorian prick.Oi goin’ make a decent meal out ye.”
I’ve made this situation so much worse.
He drops me on the ground, the impact radiating through my neck and back as gnarled roots dig into my flesh. Fearghal pulls a spare rope out of his belt satchel, looping it over a thick, hanging branch. Once it’s secured, he attaches the loop to my feet. With barely any effort, he tugs on the rope, leaving me suspended upside down in midair. I attempt to loosen the rope, get a hand free, or do something productive, but nothing is working.
“Help!” I scream at the top of my lungs.
Surely, one of the bloody Galrosan men heard it….
Unless they’re too far away.
Fearghal licks his lips. “Quiet, girly,” Fearghal says.
He pulls a pearly white knife from a hidden sheath, flipping it in the low glow of the dawn. “My last ‘ostage screamed fer hours,” he continues. I squint, examining the weapon, and realize that the handle is made of chiseled bone. My blood runs cold. “Don’ worry, girly. Fearghal ‘ill make sure yer death is quick.” He steps closer, grabbing my face with only two fingers. I close my eyes, feeling his repulsive breath floating over my skin. “Lerk at me,” he commands. “Fearghal wants tu see yer eyes when oi drain the life from ye.”
I slowly open them, only to find him mere inches from my face. A wicked smile graces his lips. “Dat’s better,” he replies. For a moment, his grip on my chin loosens, giving me the opportunity to slam my head into his with a sickening thwack and crunch of bone. Fearghal rears back in pain, a hand clutching his nose. I feel something dripping down my throbbing temple, and I just pray it isn’t his blood. I squirm and fight against my restraints as I scream out for the Cadre.
The woods remain still as Fearghal makes some sort of animalistic sound as he slices his blade against my cheek, drawing blood. I yelp in pain as he tastes the stain coating his weapon. “Yer full of secrets, aren’t ye, girly,” he croons.