*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Chapter 9 - Confrontation
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Daris returned to the Rúmil's side and moved to cut the bindings from around his knees and ankles only to have Callin begin to laugh maliciously and grab his wrist, pulling him away.
"Now you're the one that has gone mad. What do you think will happen when it is free, hmm? Do you think it will simply thank us for its release and walk quietly into the night? I think not."
Then Callin turned his attention back to his prize, his hand reaching of its own accord in a gesture to touch the elf.
"No, I plan on taking it to market. I demand retribution for the losses it has caused me."
Now it was Daris' turn to laugh. "To market? To market?! We are not slavers! I will NOT allow it! You cannot treat another living being this way," and leaning in just inches from his brother's face, his hazel eyes glittering with fury, he said, "And I seriously doubt that he will be able to walk anywhere in the near future. We will have to return him to his kin and pray – PRAY - to the Gods that we come out of it alive."
Tightening his grip around his dagger, Daris shrugged out of his brother's grasp and stalked over to the group of men he thought he knew, the men he had trusted to keep his brother out of trouble.
"Leave! All of you! Take the wagons and whatever else you think you're entitled to and leave; I want you out of here tonight." Daris made to turn away but advanced on the men once more.
"What were you thinking when you helped my brother do this thing? You have families, sisters, wives! What would you do if it were they being treated this way? What if it were they who were on their way to 'Market' and in such pain?!" He asked bitterly.
Daris saw them look to Callin for direction but they received none; he was too focused on the elf to notice anyone else. Seeing them hesitate, Daris called to his men.
"I need a few moments alone with my brother. Please help these 'gentlemen' gather their things and escort them from my sight," and then addressing his brother's men one last time, he said, "I suggest you follow the river, and if you're lucky, perhaps the elves will not be able to tell which direction you have gone before you can make it home. Now go!"
Daris glanced back at his brother, disgusted with the turn his mind had taken. He knew that his brother was hard, but he never thought him capable of such cruelty. Shaking his head, he returned to the elf, trying to control his temper enough to calm his voice.
Sitting down on his knees next to the guardian, Daris looked deeply into the elf's fathomless blue eyes for a few moments, and then said, "I'm sorry for what has been done to you; it should never have happened." His voice was soft and carried the burden of responsibility for the actions of his brother. "If I release you -- no, let me restate that. When I release you, will you agree, at least, not to kill him?"
Rúmil looked at Daris through a pain-filled haze, trying to comprehend his words. Was he being released? He still was not sure what was happening, and the fact that he was still among living had yet to sink in. After a few moments, he nodded his head awkwardly in agreement. This adan seemed different from the others; his eyes held a kindness that he desperately needed to believe in.
"NO! You will not release it!" snarled Callin, and Daris stiffened as his brother again grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the elf.
"Let. Me. Go. This is over -- done. Don't you see that I'm just trying to save your life?!" and in a gesture that Daris took for acquiescence, Callin suddenly released him and turned away, his gaze cast downward.
"I'm going to get some water and what I need to tend his injuries. You have to decide if you're going to go with me to return him home. I won't make you go; I can't guarantee the outcome. But for the sake of what's left of your soul, you should consider going with me, and," Daris looked at Callin scathingly, "even though I long ago realized that the word was not in you, you may want to consider saying you're *sorry* for what you've done."
Daris dropped back down next to the elf, and said, "I will bring you some water and something for your pain." Rúmil smiled weakly in gratitude to his rescuer but continued to watch the man that had tormented him for so long; his submission had been too quick to come.
Daris returned the smile and then leaned over to cut the remaining bonds from Rúmil's knees and ankles. "But first, let's free you from…" A sharp intake of breath from the elf made him look up in concern to see his wide-eyed gaze directed behind him. Too late Daris turned to see the pole that had caused so much hurt descending down upon him.
Callin let the pole slide from his hands and then stumbled forward over his stunned brother to grab Rúmil by his still bound feet, dragging him through the dense trees, oblivious to the grasping branches that seemed to reach out to seize him, tearing at his clothing.
Arms trailing uselessly, Rúmil struggled against his bonds as the man pulled him deeper into the woods. He seemed to have a destination in mind, and Rúmil had no intention on making it easy for him to get there.
"CALLIN!"
At the sound of his brother's enraged shout, Callin sped up his retreat, dragging Rúmil mercilessly over the large rocks and tree roots that jutted out of the earth. Grasping blindly, Rúmil somehow managed to wrap the fingers of one hand around one the roots, causing his tormentor to stagger to an abrupt stop. Cursing, Callin jerked the elf forward, and Rúmil heard a loud popping sound in his shoulder but still refused to release his hold.
"Let go!"
Callin jerked him forward again, and Rúmil could feel the muscles in his shoulder stretching beyond endurance. Head swimming, he was barely able to register Daris bursting through the underbrush. His feet hit the ground with a thud as the two men began to fight. Tumbling over one another repeatedly, the clash ended when Daris' fist landed solidly with Callin's jaw, whipping his head back, and sending both brothers sprawling to the ground. Breathing heavily, Daris crawled around his brother's limp body and over to Rúmil.
"Elf?"
The elf's tunic had been yanked upward to bunch under arms, and Daris paled as new injuries became apparent. His fingers skimmed lightly over the ravaged body, the bruises from numerous impacts beginning to darken the fair skin.
'This is just wonderful,' thought Daris, and leaning over the elf, he said, "Are you all right?"
"Ru… Rúmil."
"What?"
Daris had to lean in closer to hear the elf.
"Rúmil."
"Your name is Rúmil?" he asked, as he pulled the ripped tunic back down around the elf's waist.
Rúmil nodded weakly in reply.
Daris reached up over the elf's head, trying to pry the long fingers from around the tree root still grasped tightly in his hand, and musing aloud, he said, "This tree seems to have as strong a hold on you as you have on it."
Finally pulling the hand free, Daris gently lowered Rúmil's arms back to his side, hissing between his teeth as he noticed the dislocation and swelling in one of his shoulders.
"Rúmil, I'm going to have to carry you back to camp. May I…" Daris paused, unsure how the elf would react to his request, "…pick you up? I will try to be careful."
At the elf's slow nod, Daris moved to a squat, and smiling with relief, said, "All right then, under the knees and shoulders?"
But Rúmil did not get a chance to reply. Callin barreled once again into his rescuer, shoving him roughly into a tree. Rúmil heard loud whoosh and a sickening crack as Daris crumpled into a lifeless heap at its base, and he winced as Callin screamed at his brother's still form.
"No one tells me what to do with MY THINGS!"
Rúmil saw Callin approaching, rubbing his jaw. Determinedly, with what remaining strength he had left and oblivious to the burning pain in his hips, Rúmil pulled his knees up to his chest and then kicked out swiftly. The kick landed squarely and sent his attacker flying like a bird through the trees. The effort of the kick left Rúmil dazed and limp but immeasurably satisfied that at last, he had left a mark on his tormentor.
Callin recovered quickly, though, and the look on his face as he approached Rúmil was murderous. He stood there for a long moment, his arms clasped tightly around his chest, leering at the elf lying limply on the ground. Staying clear of Rúmil's legs, the man circled around and swung a booted foot toward the elf's head.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
~* To Be Continued *~
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
