Chapter Ten – Wasteland Return

What would happen would happen – Akkarin was aware of the fact that he probably would not live to see the next day. It only pained him that he might never see Yilana again but right now being dragged after a horse and doing his best not too fall did not leave room for troublesome speculations.

They had left the city and once clear of the guards' view Akkarin had been thrown off his horse by a force strike. Dakova's wrath had been so violent that in truth Akkarin had not expected to live.

Dakova's strikes had been raining down on him, making his skin and clothes burn and his body ache. He rolled around in the sand, swallowed some and nearly choked on it while trying not to get killed.

Dakova grabbed his whip, jumped off his horse and pulled Akkarin towards a tree tying him to it. Akkarin received the flogging without a sound. Finally out of annoyed frustration from Akkarin's silence, Dakova hit him in the head with something so hard, that he lost consciousness while feeling his blood running in warm trickles down the back of his neck. He woke up still hanging by the tree. Could not tell for how long he had been hanging there but his hands were numb and the blood on his arms had turned into black specks and streaks on his arms. He slowly got to his feet, coughing slightly.

"You will regret ever crossing me" Dakova shouted from behind and kicked him in the back. He gasped and moaned involuntarily. You could not be farther from the truth Akkarin thought to himself. His only regret was not being able to fight back. Being tortured meant nothing. He focused his thoughts and envisioned Yilana. She was waiting for him he saw, standing by a tree, smiling at him. He smiled back at her and reaching her, he gave her a big kiss. The vision made him warm. He hoped he would live to see her again, to be close to her, to talk to her. Just to look her into her beautiful eyes. From somewhere afar he knew that he was being flogged once again but he did not feel it.

Dakova's knife cut the ropes and Akkarin fell to his knees. Davoka pulled him towards the horses and tied his hands to a rope he had arranged to be hanging down from Akkarin's horse which had been tied to Dakova's saddle. Then he mounted and started riding. Akkarin was pulled up and started running after the horses. He fell a few times but managed to get up again. Running after the horses was hard and he did not have much strength left. He head and his back hurt and everything became a blur. An hour later, they stopped. He was so exhausted that he passed out lying on the ground still tied to the horse which turned around and nuzzled his head curiously. He sensed it vaguely but slipped into a trance-like sleep.

Next morning he was awakened by Dakova cutting him. Why? Couldn't you find a usable wound on me already? Akkarin thought wryly. He realized that they were right next to a little river and crawled towards it. When he reached it he drank and drank. He stayed at the brink immersing his head in the cool water. It cleared his mind and he lay there feeling the water running by. Then he lifted his head up again and lay down on his side to wait and rest.

Dakova did not speak but after finishing his breakfast he jumped on his horse and they were off again once again with Akkarin staggering behind as best he could. He is going to kill me Akkarin thought.

After nearly two hours of running he passed out. When he woke up he was lying head down on the ground still tied to the horse. What was left of his clothes was covered in dirt and blood.

Dakova kicked him. "Get up you worthless excuse for a man"

Akkarin got up slowly and with difficulty. He stood swaying – everything was hazy. "Get up on the horse – I don't have time for you passing out all the time", Dakova sneered.

Akkarin looked at the horse. He could not possible find the strength to mount her. His hands were still tied together. He approached the horse and his shaking hands tried to get a hold on the reins in order for him to somehow pull himself up on the horse. The horse turned her head and looked at him with kind brown eyes. After one failed attempt Dakova hit him on the back with his whip cursing irritably. "Get up!" he screamed and with the last of his strength he managed to pull himself up high enough to be able to swing his leg over the back of the animal. He slumped forward so that his forehead touched the neck of the horse. She snorted peacefully. He knew she sensed he was hurt and was grateful. She would be gentle with him. Then they began riding.

The same scenario took place as when they had approached Arvice. Men with fresh horses came by. Some scraps of food were thrown over to Akkarin. At night, he was lying on the ground freezing. The ropes were never removed from his hands. He had developed a cough and did not get much sleep during those long cold nights.

Finally the last man they met took off with both of their horses.

"Kneel!" Dakova beckoned. He did and saw Dakova walk behind him and felt him gripping his hair pulling his head back over leaving his throat exposed. Then he felt the sharp edge of the knife against his throat. A sting told him that he had been cut and he prepared himself for death. "You do not deserve to live" Dakova said in low dangerous voice close to his ear, pressing the knife deeper into Akkarin's skin. Akkarin closed his eyes. "Then kill me" he whispered hoarsely "Kill me now!" Dakova laughed silently. "Ah, but that would be letting you get away with everything too easily" he said. "I am not finished with you just yet, guild slave" The knife slit the skin of his throat open but not deep enough to be fatal. He pushed Akkarin to the ground and Akkarin grasped his throat and held out his hands now shimmering with red blood. He got up and looked at the Ichani. Dakova hated him just as much as he hated Dakova.

The man did not look at him but starting walking and Akkarin followed. Due to Akkarin being too weak to walk fast, it took them five days before they reached the camp. The slaves stilled as they watched them enter the camp. They looked with horror at Akkarin and nobody said a word as he staggered towards the tent where he once again passed out.

Late that night, Yilana came to him. The slaves eyed her warily but nobody interrupted her or called out for their master. After treating his worst injuries, she lay down beside him, gently caressing his hair and whispering words of comfort to him all night long.

Early morning she left and he fell into a deep sound sleep.