Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 20b

My panicked eyes cast about as I searched for something I could do, something I could use. Then the men quieted and the scuffles stopped. I peeked around the corner of the shed to see what was happening. A towering man had come out of one of the smaller huts. His face was long and angular, his nose reminded me of a horse, and he wore nothing but a loincloth. He was thinner than Remi, but immensely tall, and from the way everyone bowed their heads and parted in front of him, I surmised that this was Borga.

His eyes darted back and forth, as if harboring a deep mistrust of his own people. "Show me these would-be assassins." The sneer on his face matched the smugness of his tone.

The men dragged Galen and Remi, still struggling, toward him.

"Well now, a boy. And who is this, your father? Come to take revenge, have you?" He tilted his head in mock sympathy. "Did we kill your mama?"

I could see the hatred seething in Remi's eyes.

"Did you really think you could kill the mighty Krat Chieftain?" Borga began to pace. "I haven't become this powerful, this successful, by making myself a target every night in the chieftain's hut. Fools."

The captives said nothing while Borga gloated. This seemed to annoy him. "Where are you from?" he demanded.

Galen stared in stony silence while Remi looked away.

"Chieftain, if I may?" One of the guards stepped forward. "I believe the boy is a runaway captive. We used to use him on scouting missions. He's an Aberration, Chieftain."

A slow, sinister smile spread across the harsh planes of Borga's face. "An Aberration, eh?" He stepped in front of Remi and grasped his chin. Remi jerked it away and refused to look at him. "And what about this one?"

"We don't know this one, sir."

Borga approached Galen and grabbed his bearded face with a large hand. "Ah, I can feel it. Another Aberration."

Borga patted Galen's face and resumed pacing. "So. A runaway captive and another unknown Aberration. Where might you have been living all these years, hmm? Might it be with the Forestfolk, perhaps?"

I inhaled sharply and flattened myself behind the shed again, clamping a hand over my mouth and desperately hoping they hadn't heard me. If he knew about Foresthome then none of us were safe.

"Oh, don't look so surprised, lad. I've known for years that the Forestfolk were more than just rumors. I've just been waiting for the right opportunity. And now, it seems to have presented itself. Either of you feel like talking?"

I waited behind the shed, straining to hear what was going on. There was silence, then I heard Borga say, "I suspected as much. No matter, I was hoping for a little bit of fun, anyway."

I had to do something. My hands shook with the need. But what? What could I possibly do? I was—

I shut my eyes and pushed the word useless out of my mind. I was not useless.

When I opened them, my eyes landed on the stockpile of firewood on the far side of the compound. I stole away from the shed, dashing from shadow to shadow and grabbing a torch along the way. When I reached it, I threw the torch onto a pile of kindling and ran out of the compound.

The perimeter guards were still gone, so I ran along the outside of the perimeter fence, away from the blaze that was starting to climb higher. This place was huge. By the time I finally encountered another entrance, I had to pause to catch my breath.

After checking for witnesses, I ducked back into the compound just as someone shouted an alert to the fire on the other side.

I hid in a space behind a hut near the fence. I had no plan beyond the fire, and maybe that had been a bad idea. The compound began buzzing with activity as more people scrambled out of their dwellings. Someone was bound to see me for sure now. I shook my head at my own stupidity. I was no master strategist. What was I doing here?

Then I saw something in the ground ahead of me, in a large clearing. There were multiple torches suspended over large holes in the ground. Each hole was about the size of a hut, covered by a wooden lattice. Curious, I glanced around for guards and approached. When I peered over the edge of one of the holes, I found it to be a pit, deeper than the size of a man, full of people. Prisoners. Some were asleep, but many had awoken from the ruckus I had caused and were now staring quizzically at me.

I backed away, unsure what to do. I didn't know these people. I went to the next hole and peered into it. This one was full of children. Galen was right, they had been capturing them instead of killing them. I dropped to my belly to get a better look inside. It smelled awful. They were filthy, wearing dirty rags, languishing in grimy conditions. Many of the kids looked sickly and near death.

Then I saw Pimo. He looked right at me as if I were a ghost.

"Siena?" he said, edging closer.

I put a finger to my lips. "I'll try to get you out," I whispered and began to pull at the hatch covering the hole. It was stuck. I glanced at my surroundings, then circled around to what looked like a latch. I was frantically trying to figure out how the latch worked in the dim light when someone shouted, "You there, stop!"

I looked up to see a muscular guard rushing in my direction. In a panic, I dropped what I was doing and ran for my life. I heard the shrill voice of Pimo wailing after me, "Don't leave me here! It's your fault I'm in here!"

His words stung even as I sprinted out toward the darkness of the plain. Flashbacks of escaping the Zurbo compound crowded my mind. I imagined the arrows flying past me, and I ran even faster.

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