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Transition

Part 4

Captive

By Ecri

Kevin assured himself that his men held Conor, Fergus, Caitlin, and Tully securely. Once satisfied, he again cupped his hands over his mouth and signaled. Someone answered his call, and Kevin knelt on one knee so he could speak to Conor face to face. "Now, you will have to understand what you have done."

Conor opened his mouth to speak, but Kevin placed his knife against the younger man's throat. "Oh, yes, please defend yourself. I would love to present your lying tongue to my chieftain!"

Fergus struggled against the men who held him.

A few moments later, Dar, Chieftain of the River People, strolled forward, sword in hand. Fergus eyed the man warily.

"Prince Conor, son of Derek, I am Dar, Chieftain of the River People."

Fergus could see that Dar forced himself to speak formally, though it was apparent, to Fergus at least that all he really wanted to do was take his sword and run Conor through. The thought of that was enough for Fergus to again struggle against his captors, but, at his first movement, several more men took hold of his arms, while others stood in front of him barring his way. Fergus was forced to content himself with looking over the heads of the men to keep an eye on Conor.

Conor, thought forced to kneel, struggled defiantly. "I'm Conor, son of Derek," Conor affirmed proudly, his voice clear and authoritative, sounding to Fergus just like his father. "What do you want with us?"

Fergus smiled ever so slightly at the memory of his departed sovereign, and, while Conor did not bear a striking physical resemblance to his father, Fergus could swear he saw the King in Conor's eyes and demeanor. King Derek, Fergus was sure, would be proud.

Fergus realized Conor was still asking questions and making demands. "Let them go!" Conor pointed his chin towards Fergus, Caitlin, and Tully. "They are no threat to you now!"

"Oh, don't concern yourself with your friends." He leaned close to Conor, his nose mere inches from Conor's face, and his voice a menacing whisper. "You're who I'm after. You're the one responsible."

"Responsible? For what?" Conor struggled against the men holding him, but Dar stopped him with a blow to his stomach. Conor would have doubled over from the pain and surprise of the blow had he not been held firmly. His face was red from the effort it took to draw another breath.

"Look around you, prince." Dar filled the word with contempt, practically spitting it at Conor. "Do you see what's become of my village? Do you see what talk of a Confederation of Tribes can do?"

Realization hit Conor almost as hard as Dar had. His blue eyes softened, taking some of the pain from Dar's and reflecting it back at the irate chieftain. "Romans did this."

"Smart lad," Dar declared bitterly. "Now such bloodletting will stop!" Dar turned to face his men. "Now the Romans will know we are their allies. We will rise again!" There was a hearty cheer from those assembled.

"You're planning to deal with the Romans?" Conor dared not believe what he had heard.

Dar laughed at the look of panic on Conor's face.

"Dar, don't!" They won't honor any bargain made with you!" Conor knew he had to reason with Dar, but the man seemed to have made up his mind.

"Don't concern yourself, pup! I struck this bargain with the highest Roman authority on the island. They know the benefit of having friends among the tribes to put down rebellions like yours!"

"You spoke with Diana?" Conor knew the Queen well enough to know she would hold this bargain only as long as it either benefited or amused her. "Don't listen to her, Dar. She cannot be trusted!"

Again Dar laughed. "I do not know this Diana. Perhaps that is why your Confederation fails. You do not even know who is your enemy. I dealt with Gaius Cassius Longinus." With that, Dar had apparently had enough of the impromptu audience. "Take them to the pens we have prepared." Turning on his heel, he walled away, not bothering to see if his orders were followed.

Conor, Fergus, Caitlin and Tully were led through the remains of the village. The sights that greeted them were not for the faint-hearted. Fergus, seeing the burned buildings and the singed treed, couldn't help but think of his daughter, Molly. "I hid in a tree. A peach tree." She'd told him about the destruction of her village. She'd survived, but without the help of her long estranged father. Fergus knew he would never forgive himself for that.

None too gently, the four comrades were herded towards a small cage made of wooden stakes. Upon closer inspection, Conor realized it was two cages. A larger pen had been divided in two with a few extra planks of wood. The cages were sturdy and would not be easily broken. The division had been uneven. Conor could see one side of the cage was at least twice the size of the other, though neither could be considered large.

Dar reappeared, having come, no doubt, by a more direct route. The sight of the burned village had been meant to make the captives understand what had been lost.

Dar stood by the cages. "Oh, dear," he said in mock concern, "There doesn't seem to be enough room." He looked Conor over. "I had expected you to come alone or with one guard." He gestured towards the smaller side of the cage. "That was meant for you."

Conor could see that he would never have fit into that side of the cage. Of course, his comfort probably wasn't foremost in Dar's mind.

"I suppose we'll have to make some other arrangements." He motioned to his men who responded by forcing Tully and Fergus into the larger cage. Caitlin was shoved roughly into the smaller one. It was a struggle for Tully and Fergus to sit in the cage and not kick each other or bump into each other each time they shifted, and Caitlin was forced to bend awkwardly, sitting more on her hip than on her backside.

Once they were settled, Dar cast his eye about as if wondering what to do with Conor. Conor wasn't fooled. It was apparent the Chieftain had decided that to do with Conor before he had made it halfway to the village.

"Bring him here." Dar's command was filled with malice and contempt. Near to the cages a large stake, easily seven feet tall, had been erected. Dar's hands were bound together. The rope was then cast over through an iron ring near the top and anchored to a tree root several feet away. His arms held firmly above his head, Conor dangled there, his toes just brushing the ground. He knew Dar planned to leave him there through the night, and he knew it put an end to all thought of his escape. If her were successfully cut down, his muscles would be a knotted, cramped mass of pain. He'd be unable to run or to fight.

Conor knew his only chance was to be let down immediately. Summoning years of memories of his father and brother and how they commanded respect, he yelled defiantly. His voice sounded regal commanding even to his own ears. "I am Conor, Son of Derek, Brother of Aidan! By what right do you keep me here?"

For a moment, Dar seemed to waver, but just for a moment. Calling forth his own rage, Dar screamed back. "By what right do you bring the wrath of the Romans on me and mine? They would have come peacefully! They would have sought us as allies, in trade and in arms, had you not declared a holy war against them!"

Conor stared back at Dar, incredulous. "Is that what Longinus told you?" He shook his head sadly at the older man's naivete. "Rome does not come in peace! Even if they did, Longinus no longer represents Rome. He has his own agenda."

"Fine." Dar spat the word at Conor. "I will help him with his agenda, and he will make amends for what his men did while searching for you!"

Fergus could hold his tongue no longer. HE rattled the wooden stakes that caged him. "Dar! You release him! D'ya hear me? Let him go! Longinus is not a man; he's a monster! He'll keep no bargains with you!"

Dar ignoring Fergus, walked slowly to his own dwelling.

TBC