Dusk Over Arcath

Chapter 5

 "Here's the other one," another voice growled suddenly.

Aster pried his eyes open at the surprising interruption to Endel's vengeance.

Another pair of Watchmen had topped the wall with Castleia pinned between them. She appeared to have come unwillingly as evidenced by a throbbing bruise on her forehead that threatened to close her snarling eyes.

Dropped to the promenade, she venomously spat a clod of red onto the stone. "You can't do this. We're members of this watch. The Counil will -"

"Quiet," Endel growled. "You have no room for negotiation here. And the Council has no power here. I am chief of these woodsmen and," he chuckled dryly, "you do not make the cut."

"Chief," a bystanding warrior grunted, "now may not be the best time to trim the branches, so to speak."

Aster's eyes widened as he clutched Endel's steel grasp and fought the urge to look down. The speaker was a voice he recognized - Griffic from the night before.

The bearded warrior let his ax slip from his shoulder to the stones beside his feet. "With an army of moonfolk within our walls and the council as unsettled as it is about Vahnir's company. Another mess might be one too many."

Endel pursed his lips and tightened his grasp on the boy's neck. Turning his gaze to meet Aster's wide eyes, he finally jerked his head. A swift toss sent Aster grinding against the walkway of the wall, some feet from the edge.

"Wise, as always, Griffic. Find irons for these two." His lip curled as he glared down at the boy. "Don't get your hopes up; there will be another time."

Griffic nodded as Aster felt coarse hands grab him again.

Before he could even speak a wad of cloth was shoved into his mouth and a strip of leather bound about his eyes. He tried to cry out in protest but the only sound was a voiceless muttering as his teeth crunched against the dirt of his gag.

"Make this easier on the both of us," a faceless voice muttered, "and don't struggle."

Another pair of hands grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him up. A pelt-cushioned shoulder dug into his stomach and he felt the body begin to move.

Jostling was all he felt for many moments. Booted feet scraped against stones as he was tossed on the nameless woodsman's back as they descended from the wall. Further pattering of feet told him they had arrived on the street.

There was little noise other than the distant murmurings of people in the square. Still air seeped through his nose, but it was barely enough to breath from. His tough fought the gag until it became coated in the grime of the rag, but the cloth refused to dislodge.

As time went on the air around them grew cooler. The lower streets, he whispered mentally.

It was not until some time after that the Watchman finally lowered him with a grunt.

"Get up, you can walk for the rest."

Aster hesitantly found his footing and stood. He reached his hands behind his head to undo the leather that incurred his blindness, only to feel the camp of iron against his skin. Clattering chains and the weight of iron links pulled on his wrists.

He muttered in protest, only to be silenced by the gag still between his teeth.

"One moment," the watchman grunted.

Hands untied the leather, letting it fall to the ground while Aster's eyes traced the surroundings.

A wall similar to the gate they had left behind rose before them. Its stones were dark, stained by moisture that wept from its cracks and a layer of soot and dirt clad the lower part of the wall but was interrupted by a wide, short portal. A portcullis of thick Elderwood timbers posed like teeth above the opening, though it hung high enough for Aster to see the large antechamber within. Another woodsman who evidently was responsible for his chains stood beside them.