Ch. 5
AN: Sorry it's taken me so long. Btw, if you have any suggestion/ideas for this, I only have a rough sketch in my "brain" so tell me, ko? Also, just a note, b/c I always get frustrated when people just end a story w/ the 2 getting together, I plan to continue this till at least the wedding, possible after. Just FYI.
From Ch. 4: I think we're going to Sotat.:: Briar's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.
The two were bouncing along at a fast clip in the back of a cart. A tarp shielded outside eyes from them, and also managed to trap a bit of warmth: the days had grown cooler. Or maybe they had just gone north. Briar was trying to size up the situation, but it was dark, and he could not see much. Sandry's brow was furrowed in concentration. She was trying to use her magic to untie the ropes that bound their hands, but they were magicked. There was no way out of this.
"Daja!" Rosethorn called. "Where is Briar?"
"And Sandry! I haven't seen Sandry!" Lark seemed concerned.
"I haven't seen either of them…didn't they come back from getting cloth?"
"Hmm…" Lark was worried. "Where could they be?"
Sandry was jolted awake. A rough hand pulled at her, trying to get her out of the cart. She looked over at Briar; he was struggling fiercely, trying to get free. He received the back of a hand across his face. Sandry winced.
"C'mon mate, it's just us! Yer ol' gang mates! Loosen up!"
"Whaddya want, Snake?" Briar spat in contempt.
"Didn't Beats tell ya? We need yer help…See, we understand that yer a all powerful wizerd, or summat. And it appears that the Zerifs have decided to claim our territory…so we needcha to come n'wipe em out!"
"Snake, I don't do that sort of thing…your wasting your time."
"But, ya see, I'm not, cos if ya don't use yer powers, then yew n'this lil'flower r'gonna stay wit us, and yew'll be our…slaves, or summat." Briar spat on the ground in reply. Sandry shuddered.
::Briar, what's going to happen here?::
::I'm not too sure, Sandry, but we'll come up with something…I hope…::
Lark glanced out the window. It had been one week, and there was still no sign of Sandry and Briar. Niko had tried his hardest to scry for them, but he absolutely couldn't find them. They had sent out a desperate plea to Numair Salamin, probably the most powerful mage in the whole world. He would be there shortly. Lark hoped that it would be soon. She didn't know how much longer she could hang in limbo, not knowing whether to cry or keep looking. For all she knew, Briar and Sandry could be dead.
The cart finally rolled to a stop. Beats came and untied the tarp. He roughly dragged Briar and Sandry to the ground and pushed them down a narrow alley. It was dark, and Sandry stumbled a bit on a loose cobblestone. She righted herself, received a slap for her stupidity, and kept walking. She could smell dirt and filth; rats scurried across the pathway. An old woman leered at them in the dark, flashing a toothless smile, and cackling at Sandry's obvious discomfort.
::We'll be to the cove soon, Sandry.:: She took comfort in Briar's presence. ::It'll probably be much worse than this, but at least we'll be inside…::
::We'll be fine Briar…I know it…we have to be fine.::
::sure, Sandry. Of course we'll be fine…why wouldn't we?:: To himself, Briar thought, 'we'll probably be dead by this time next week…or worse.'
Rosethorn looked up as the door opened. A servant walked in, announcing Numair Salamin, Daine Salamin, and Allana the Lioness. She stood in greeting.
"Thank you for coming. We appreciate your help….you are known to be the best there are…and we desperatley need the best." The three Tortallans were moved by her obvious distress. Numair nodded.
"We are glad to be of any help that we can be. Shall we begin?"
"Of course…here, these might help you…Sandry's drop spindle, and Briar's Shakkan tree. If you need anything…?"
"Do you have someplace…very quiet…where we can go?"
"The Hub should do nicely…follow me." And with that, they moved down into the Earth, taking Sandry and Briar's very lives in their hands.
"Get me some more whattey, wench!" (AN whattey = water in the South. I like it.) The man to whom the voice belonged to appeared to be about as rusty as the voice, and even harsher. He had filth caked onto his very self, into every crevice, Sandry was sure that there were bugs crawling around in his greasy hair. She shuddered at the thought. She kept moving, in spite of the sudden urge to throw up. She reached for a pitcher of water and brought it over to where the man was sprawled out, stepping over thieves of all sorts on her way.
"Here you are." Her voice had lost all emotion. Briar, sitting by himself in a corner, cringed. What had become of his Sandry? He tried to make a move to comfort her, but his chains rattled infuriatingly. When he had refused to kill off the rival gang, they had chained him to the wall. Briar was unsure what his ultimate fate would be. He could make a wild guess at Sandry's fate; for weeks, the gang members had been eyeing her with lusty hunger. At the thought of one of them taking her, his muscles strained. The shackles clattered once more. A nearby delinquent hurled an empty cup at him. It was accompanied with a harsh shout. ' What will become of us?' Briar speculated, as sleep overtook him.
The three Tortallians had been working for hours. Niko had used the objects as a focus, gliding over land in his search for the two teens. Daine was reaching as far as she could, asking all animals if they had seen the two. None had. Alanna was using a spell to talk with all of her friends, asking the rogues and envoys alike for any word of Sandry and Briar. As they neared the edges of their reach, all three felt something. Numair peered closer, trying to get a better look. Could that beaten girl be Sandry? Could a noble be that filthy, that caked in blood, that starving? And in the corner, could that be Briar, the once lusty youth now shaking as a man hit him repeatedly? The three dropped their spells. They had found them. They called to Lark and Rosethorn.
"BRIAR! YOU'LL DO THIS IF IT'S THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO!" Zairian, who appeared to be the leader of the group, Yelled at Briar, punctuating his words with cuffs and hits and slaps. Across the dark enclosing, Beats repeated the same thing with Sandry, only with a different theme: she had refused to sleep with him. Briar, who had grown up in this sort of environment, had steeled himself against the blows. Sandry, on the other hand, was failing quickly. As one last wallop was delivered across her cheek, she fell to the ground, shaking in fear and pain. Beats, enraged with her weakness, kicked her hard in the stomach. Sandry didn't have to endure this much longer. Her mind separated itself from her body, and floated high above the pain and suffering. It looked down at her quivering form lazily, could that be her? Surely not…it kept going, in search of Sandry.
"We've found them…we must hurry though! They're in Sotat…I believe a company of the King's Own is nearby…Alanna is contacting them now…I think they'll be OK." Numair was tired from his efforts, but relieved that the search was over. He felt close to the two, though they had never met. After Lark and Rosethorn had thanked him and left to spread the word, Numair moved to where Daine was resting by the wall. He lay down beside her, and held her hand. She turned to face him, sleepily kissed his cheek, and they slept.
AN: Sorry it's taken me so long. Btw, if you have any suggestion/ideas for this, I only have a rough sketch in my "brain" so tell me, ko? Also, just a note, b/c I always get frustrated when people just end a story w/ the 2 getting together, I plan to continue this till at least the wedding, possible after. Just FYI.
From Ch. 4: I think we're going to Sotat.:: Briar's voice was flat, devoid of all emotion.
The two were bouncing along at a fast clip in the back of a cart. A tarp shielded outside eyes from them, and also managed to trap a bit of warmth: the days had grown cooler. Or maybe they had just gone north. Briar was trying to size up the situation, but it was dark, and he could not see much. Sandry's brow was furrowed in concentration. She was trying to use her magic to untie the ropes that bound their hands, but they were magicked. There was no way out of this.
"Daja!" Rosethorn called. "Where is Briar?"
"And Sandry! I haven't seen Sandry!" Lark seemed concerned.
"I haven't seen either of them…didn't they come back from getting cloth?"
"Hmm…" Lark was worried. "Where could they be?"
Sandry was jolted awake. A rough hand pulled at her, trying to get her out of the cart. She looked over at Briar; he was struggling fiercely, trying to get free. He received the back of a hand across his face. Sandry winced.
"C'mon mate, it's just us! Yer ol' gang mates! Loosen up!"
"Whaddya want, Snake?" Briar spat in contempt.
"Didn't Beats tell ya? We need yer help…See, we understand that yer a all powerful wizerd, or summat. And it appears that the Zerifs have decided to claim our territory…so we needcha to come n'wipe em out!"
"Snake, I don't do that sort of thing…your wasting your time."
"But, ya see, I'm not, cos if ya don't use yer powers, then yew n'this lil'flower r'gonna stay wit us, and yew'll be our…slaves, or summat." Briar spat on the ground in reply. Sandry shuddered.
::Briar, what's going to happen here?::
::I'm not too sure, Sandry, but we'll come up with something…I hope…::
Lark glanced out the window. It had been one week, and there was still no sign of Sandry and Briar. Niko had tried his hardest to scry for them, but he absolutely couldn't find them. They had sent out a desperate plea to Numair Salamin, probably the most powerful mage in the whole world. He would be there shortly. Lark hoped that it would be soon. She didn't know how much longer she could hang in limbo, not knowing whether to cry or keep looking. For all she knew, Briar and Sandry could be dead.
The cart finally rolled to a stop. Beats came and untied the tarp. He roughly dragged Briar and Sandry to the ground and pushed them down a narrow alley. It was dark, and Sandry stumbled a bit on a loose cobblestone. She righted herself, received a slap for her stupidity, and kept walking. She could smell dirt and filth; rats scurried across the pathway. An old woman leered at them in the dark, flashing a toothless smile, and cackling at Sandry's obvious discomfort.
::We'll be to the cove soon, Sandry.:: She took comfort in Briar's presence. ::It'll probably be much worse than this, but at least we'll be inside…::
::We'll be fine Briar…I know it…we have to be fine.::
::sure, Sandry. Of course we'll be fine…why wouldn't we?:: To himself, Briar thought, 'we'll probably be dead by this time next week…or worse.'
Rosethorn looked up as the door opened. A servant walked in, announcing Numair Salamin, Daine Salamin, and Allana the Lioness. She stood in greeting.
"Thank you for coming. We appreciate your help….you are known to be the best there are…and we desperatley need the best." The three Tortallans were moved by her obvious distress. Numair nodded.
"We are glad to be of any help that we can be. Shall we begin?"
"Of course…here, these might help you…Sandry's drop spindle, and Briar's Shakkan tree. If you need anything…?"
"Do you have someplace…very quiet…where we can go?"
"The Hub should do nicely…follow me." And with that, they moved down into the Earth, taking Sandry and Briar's very lives in their hands.
"Get me some more whattey, wench!" (AN whattey = water in the South. I like it.) The man to whom the voice belonged to appeared to be about as rusty as the voice, and even harsher. He had filth caked onto his very self, into every crevice, Sandry was sure that there were bugs crawling around in his greasy hair. She shuddered at the thought. She kept moving, in spite of the sudden urge to throw up. She reached for a pitcher of water and brought it over to where the man was sprawled out, stepping over thieves of all sorts on her way.
"Here you are." Her voice had lost all emotion. Briar, sitting by himself in a corner, cringed. What had become of his Sandry? He tried to make a move to comfort her, but his chains rattled infuriatingly. When he had refused to kill off the rival gang, they had chained him to the wall. Briar was unsure what his ultimate fate would be. He could make a wild guess at Sandry's fate; for weeks, the gang members had been eyeing her with lusty hunger. At the thought of one of them taking her, his muscles strained. The shackles clattered once more. A nearby delinquent hurled an empty cup at him. It was accompanied with a harsh shout. ' What will become of us?' Briar speculated, as sleep overtook him.
The three Tortallians had been working for hours. Niko had used the objects as a focus, gliding over land in his search for the two teens. Daine was reaching as far as she could, asking all animals if they had seen the two. None had. Alanna was using a spell to talk with all of her friends, asking the rogues and envoys alike for any word of Sandry and Briar. As they neared the edges of their reach, all three felt something. Numair peered closer, trying to get a better look. Could that beaten girl be Sandry? Could a noble be that filthy, that caked in blood, that starving? And in the corner, could that be Briar, the once lusty youth now shaking as a man hit him repeatedly? The three dropped their spells. They had found them. They called to Lark and Rosethorn.
"BRIAR! YOU'LL DO THIS IF IT'S THE LAST THING YOU EVER DO!" Zairian, who appeared to be the leader of the group, Yelled at Briar, punctuating his words with cuffs and hits and slaps. Across the dark enclosing, Beats repeated the same thing with Sandry, only with a different theme: she had refused to sleep with him. Briar, who had grown up in this sort of environment, had steeled himself against the blows. Sandry, on the other hand, was failing quickly. As one last wallop was delivered across her cheek, she fell to the ground, shaking in fear and pain. Beats, enraged with her weakness, kicked her hard in the stomach. Sandry didn't have to endure this much longer. Her mind separated itself from her body, and floated high above the pain and suffering. It looked down at her quivering form lazily, could that be her? Surely not…it kept going, in search of Sandry.
"We've found them…we must hurry though! They're in Sotat…I believe a company of the King's Own is nearby…Alanna is contacting them now…I think they'll be OK." Numair was tired from his efforts, but relieved that the search was over. He felt close to the two, though they had never met. After Lark and Rosethorn had thanked him and left to spread the word, Numair moved to where Daine was resting by the wall. He lay down beside her, and held her hand. She turned to face him, sleepily kissed his cheek, and they slept.