Night was not all that far off. Notaku watched, angrily, as the humans took all of his belongings out of his pack and examined them. For the time being, they took out the two things that seemed like they would help in their quest to find the gem, and shoved the rest back in his bag. "Put the bag on the cart," said the leader. "We can take it back when we return to our home. For now, all I care about is the gem."
The man who had it, the one called Taylor, nodded and threw the pack onto the cart above Notaku's head. The cub scowled at him as he left, but the man ignored him. "How's we gonna get 'im to talk?" the man asked. "He aren't such a c'woprative sort."
"He'll tell us or I'll beat his brains out," Brooker growled.
Obviously, this was less than encouraging to Notaku's ears. He sat against the giant wheel of the supply cart, looking sullen. His shoulder throbbed fiercely, and he was sore, and tired. And he was feeling utterly uncooperative.
As twilight fell, the men built up a fire, and ate dinner, a dinner that smelled very good to Notaku. Brooker did not eat, only looked over the human's journal, and the parchment the boy had found. Finally he walked over to the small form chained by the cart, and thrust the parchment in his face. "What's this say, boy?"
Notaku looked at the paper, and for now, decided that a bluff would be best in this case. "Dunno yet," he said with a smirk. "I can't read that language."
"What language is it?"
The boy shrugged. "I don't know."
Brooker narrowed his eyes and took hold of the chair around Notaku's ankle, and dragged him out into the firelight. "What of this journal you found? I suppose you can't read it, either?"
"No, I can read it," said Notaku defensively. "But it doesn't say where the gem is."
"Then why did you take it?"
"Because it tells where the gem's supposed to go, so I can give it back."
The man snorted, as if he thought Notaku was lying. "Right. You risk your life for a gem just to be polite and give it back. You must think us quite dull in the head, wretch."
Notaku stood up to face the man, though it hardly did any good. He still had to look way up. "I don't care about power. Only humans care more about power than life. You're the wretch!"
Brooker curled his lip and smacked the cub across the face, with no warning. Surprised, Notaku sprawled backwards and tumbled as far as the chain would allow. Dazed, he sat up shaking his head. "You're not exactly in a position to call names," he said. "You see...I happen to know something of your filthy kind." Notaku felt the fur on his back bristle as he clenched his fists angrily "And though I can't read it, I recognize your language when I see it." He grasped the young bear's arm and shook him. "Now tell me what this says!"
Gritting his teeth, Notaku scowled, put on his most obstinate look, and said nothing. Disgusted, the human shoved him to the ground and went back to the fire, grabbing what looked like a metal bar from the fire. The end glowed red-hot. Brooker grabbed Notaku by the arm once more and put the glowing metal very close to his face. "I have no qualms about torturing someone to get what I want," he said quietly. "Ashdown, Taylor. Get over here and hold the little demonspawn."
Looking only too glad to assist, the two humans came over and grabbed for Notaku's arms. He fought them, kicking and biting, but he wasn't exactly in top form. They got hold of him and held him still, and with his arms pinned and Ashdown's knee in his back (both men were kneeling), Notaku found himself quite helpless.
Brooker looked at Notaku's shoulder with a look of counterfeit concern on his face. He gently took hold of the bandages and eased them off of the wound, which looked quite ugly. "This must be bothering you," he said in a quiet voice, which at first puzzled Notaku. "Let me do something about it." And with an unpleasant smile, he pressed the end of the hot metal against the wound Notaku had taken from Fletcher's arrow.
Notaku screamed, and began fighting again with all his strength, but Brooker did not let up for several moments. When he did, jerking the hot metal from Notaku's skin, he looked satisfied. "There," he said. "Much better."
Panting for breath, shaking, Notaku tried desperately to get some form of control over himself. It wasn't that bad, he kept telling himself. He didn't believe a word of it, but in the time it took to repeat this several times, he did calm. He opened his eyes and growled at the blur that was putting the iron back in the fire. He called the man a name in Barbic that he had never used before.
To Notaku's great annoyance, Brooker laughed uproariously. "Now that one I've heard before," he said as he replaced the iron into the fire. "And I've an idea of what it means. I think your mouth needs washing out."
Behind him, Taylor laughed, and gave him a little shake. "Enjoyin' yerself, then? Ye must be, to still defy us."
"I don't know where your stupid gem is!" Notaku yelled. "But I hope you find it! It killed a human already!"
"Yes," came the answer. "We knowed that one, an' he were a weak-minded fool. That gem needs strength o' mind the deal with it!"
Notaku tried a smirk, but it looked more like a snarl. "Then you guys're in trouble." There was a hiss of rage from behind him, and the grip on his arm tightened, but Taylor exacted no retaliation for his insult. At least not yet.
Brooker came back then, holding an earthenware pitcher full of what Notaku at first thought was steaming water. "Hold its head,' he said to the men pinning Notaku down. With some difficulty, they managed this, and the spout of the pitcher was forced into Notaku's mouth. He tried twisting his head, but it was held firm, and the contents of the pitcher forced down his throat.
He yelled, and then choked, as the liquid was poured in, and had little choice but to swallow it, or choke on it. It was hot enough to scald his throat, and tasted like soap, which was what had been put into it. When it was gone, either into Notaku's mouth or onto the ground, Brooker stood. "Still have the desire to curse at me?"
Notaku fought very hard not to sob aloud, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth. He did not answer the human, but Brooker well knew that he had won that particular round. He knelt and took Notaku's chin in his hands. "Well? Any ideas on what that paper says?" When the youth remained silent, Brooker nodded to the men behind him. Looking sadistic, Taylor wrenched Notaku's arm savagely behind his back. Notaku groaned. Brooker repeated the question, but Notaku refused to speak. He couldn't. If he told these worthless cowards anything that could help them obtain the gem, everyone in the Valley would die.
It was very difficult to refuse. He was scared, and he was hurt. What if they didn't stop hurting him? For that matter, what if they killed him? He didn't even know where the directions on the parchment led him, maybe the humans would not figure it out either? But then...what if they did?
But then the thought occurred: he did not have to tell them what was on the paper. He could give them false direction. And maybe that would buy him enough time to try and get out of this situation.
Mistaking his mental conflict for further refusal, Brooker nodded once more to Taylor, who twisted Notaku's injured arm yet further, making the cub yell. This made the decision in his mind; he would have to bluff, and pray for the best. "Okay, okay!" he cried, trying to contort himself to lessen the pressure on his arm. "All right, j-just...just let go!"
Smiling the smallest bit, Brooker nodded once more, and the hands pinning Notaku down released him. Shaking, Notaku stumbled a bit, holding his arm gingerly to his chest. His other fist clenched angrily, and thought once more that humans were worse than any stories he had heard of them.
"Well?" said Brooker, towering threateningly over the boy.
With some resolve, Notaku did not back away. "Let-let me see the parchment," he rasped. Even talking was going to hurt him for a while...blast them! Brooker silently went over to the wagon and handed the parchment down to him. Holding it in shaking hands, he held it very close to his face and squinted his eyes up.
"Didn't you have on a pair of spectacles, boy?" Brooker asked.
Notaku did not answer, except to point at Taylor, who had been the one to smash them. The human shrugged. "I didn't think he'd be needin' 'em."
Brooker made a sound of what sounded like exasperation, and looked back down at Notaku. Notaku bit his lip briefly and "recited" awkwardly what was on the parchment. It was even close to the actual contents.
To he bold enough to find this record, keep this in thine heart. If thou hath the courage and the hearte to continue thy journey, then seek us where the sun beats down. A week east, and then four days south, and, and with the courage in thine heart, thy quest shall be complete.When he was done, he looked sullenly up at Brooker, who was looking thoughtful. "Sounds old...but that parchment's not."
Notaku shook his head. "I dunno what it means," he croaked. "I d-didn't get that far."
"Where was this?"
"Same place as the journal..." Notaku made a few calculations, and a quick decision. He could tell them of the caves, and perhaps if they found what he had, and saw that at least part had been truth, they would be more inclined to believe him. "There's underground caves. There's a way in on the s-south end." He describe the area and the entrance, and mentally crossed his fingers. He prayed to Gum that it would work.
Brooker nodded musingly, then slowly knelt and grabbed the scruff of Notaku's neck. He drew him very close. "If I find that you've lied, wretch, you will be very sorry indeed." He smiled, revealing yellow teeth. "I earn my gold by torturing prisoners. Keep that in mind."
Unnerved, Notaku did back off a few steps then, when he was released. He watched the leader of the humans stand once more, and go back to the fire. Only now did he take some of the food they had cooked. Taylor and Ashdown also rose and joined their leader by the fire. "Tomorrow, I'll take two men down to these supposed caverns," said Brooker. "Taylor and Fletcher. The rest will stay here and make camp. If the wretch doesn't cause any trouble, you can go ahead and feed him once a day, give him water fairly regularly. If not, he can go without."
As it seemed he would be left alone, indeed ignored, for the time being; Notaku limped back over to the wagon and carefully sat down. Gritting his teeth, he squinted down at his arm, trying to determine how badly it was hurt. He didn't think it was broken, but it was swollen and very, very sore. He winced and held it to his chest again, trying to keep it still.
Before the humans went to bed, Brooker brought a glass of cool water to Notaku, and set it on the ground. As much as he hated the man, he was still grateful for the drink; it soothed his burned throat, and took the edge off his thirst. His stomach gurgling uncomfortably from the soap he'd been forced to swallow, Notaku curled up and tried to sleep.
The next morning, Notaku was left strictly alone, and he woke fairly late in the morning. Brooker and the other two were gone, leaving three humans behind to guard him and the cart. Ashdown, and two whose names Notaku did not know.
The boy sat up underneath the cart, looking down at his arm. It was swollen and sore, but not as had as it had been the night before. The cauterized arrow wound on his shoulder throbbed, glaring an angry red amid the tan fur, but it didn't look infected, or at least he didn't think it did. He never did well in lessons having to do with the healing arts. It hurt, though, and he didn't need to be a healer to know that.
He did discovered that the pitcher that had held hot soap and water the night before now sat next to the wheel of the cart, and it was full of clean, cold water. A metal cup sat nearby. Moving gingerly, Notaku poured some water into the cup and drank it while he ran over the whole situation in his mind.
It would take a week, give or take a couple of days, for the party to reach the caverns, and then eleven days to reach the false location that Notaku had given. That was seventeen days total, and then seventeen on the trip back... Notaku's face paled badly at this thought. He did a quick addition problem in his head, and realized that the wild goose chase he had given the humans might well have sabotaged his own mission. If he could not get away before the group returned, he would have next to no time to complete his own part of his quest!
The boy was startled when a wooden plate was set down nearby, with several scraps of bitter greens, and a few overcooked meat scraps. He wrinkled his nose at the pitiful fare, but ate it anyway, as this was all that he was going to get. And he was already showing the signs of malnutrition.
The days passed. Mostly ignored by the humans, Notaku tried everything that he could think of to get his foot out of the shackles. He tried forcing his foot out, he tried picking the lock (and without his glasses, this proved to be difficult). One morning when he got a plateful of scraps that was more fat than meat, he tried using the grease from the fat to allow his foot to slip out. Unfortunately, the cuff was too tight.
As time went on, the youth's panic increased, until he had to fight it down to be able to think straight. Every day that he remained a prisoner here, that was one day less he had to get the gem! He had been keeping track by scraping lines in the hard-packed dirt, and though it was useful for keeping track of the days, it only reminded him that time was running out.
He was going crazy, manacled to the cart night and day, being completely ignored by the humans. That was when they weren't mocking him. It didn't happen often, but enough to anger the cub considerably. The only thing the boy could be glad of was that the chain that tethered him to the cart gave him a few feet of leeway to pace. And pace he did, quite often. He was not a boy who enjoyed doing nothing, and the forced inactivity was infuriating. He had nothing to read, nothing to write on, no one to talk to, and the worst of it...he had something he had to do and was being prevented from doing so! And he was filthy, what with blood and dirt... And he'd been given no way of cleaning himself when he defecated, either, so he had had to rip parts off his kilt to use, then bury. Before he had used soft bits of parchment. At least it was earth, and not stone, so that he could dig himself a potty. Doing so at first, one-armed, had not been easy, but at least it was possible.
What he wouldn't give for some Gummiberry juice!
Every night when the humans slept, Notaku did everything that he could think of to get loose. And all the while, time crept relentlessly by.
At afternoon of the tenth day, Notaku woke to a very large foot sinking into his side. Yelling in surprised pain, he scrambled up to his hands and knees, bumped his head on the bottom of the cart when he tried to stand up, and sat back in the dirt feeling bewildered. A second later, he was being hauled out from under the cart and slammed into the wooden sides, at eye level with the human who was doing it. Brooker! Notaku blinked on bafflement, wondering why he was here. Had he not followed the directions? Had he somehow realized beforehand that Notaku hadn't told the truth? But then his gaze settled on the giant horses, and understood; they had taken their horses there! That would have cut the travel time by at least half! Though while this was good news for the quest, it was bad news for him, because now Brooker was very angry.
"I told you what would happen if you lied to me, wretch!" he growled, spittle flying from his lips. Notaku recoiled in disgust. The human slammed him hard against the cart. "Do you know what we found at the end of your instructions? Absolutely nothing!"
"B-but -" Notaku stammered, but Brooker did not give him the chance to say anything before he slammed him again, making the youth cough violently.
"Thought yourself clever, did you? I'll show you how claver I think you are!" He threw the boy to the ground and kicked him in the side once more, and Notaku scrambled back against the cart, his expression one of deepest alarm. The human drew a knife from a scabbard in his boot and held the point against Notaku's throat. Notaku froze, not wanting to move, lest the knife slip. There little that was as intimidating as the edge of a sharp dagger being held against one's throat, where the slightest twitch from the hand holding it could kill you within minutes. "I ought to slit your throat."
"Brooker," called Taylor from the cart. "Why don't you just use this on him, see if his tongue won't loosen with a couple-dozen lashes!" He held in his hand a wicked looking horsewhip, and he whirled it over his head, letting it crack loudly into the morning air. Despite himself, Notaku flinched at the sound; the whip looked to him at the time like it was as thick as his arm. It wasn't, of course, but it was a nasty looking weapon.
"No," said Brooker disgustedly, removing the knife's blade from Notaku's throat and standing up. "As tempted as I am... That whip'd kill him, he's too small to use it on him."
"I think I has some smaller lashes in the cart," said Taylor. "They wouldn't cause him too much damage."
Brooker looked as if he were considering this. He looked down at the boy for several long moments. "I just may," he said quietly. His rage seemed to have passed. "It's be no less than the lying little wretch deserves, after what he pulled."
Taylor began to rummage in the back of the cart, presumably looking for the whip he had just described. He brought it out a moment later, looking pleased with himself. It was, indeed, a lot less wicked looking than the long, thick horsewhip, but it still was not too welcome a sight. It was a thinner braided lash set onto a long, wooden handle. He looked to the leader, who looked at Notaku, and finally nodded.
Notaku's eyes widened, and he moved as if to duck into the cover of the supply cart, but Brooker yanked hard on the chain and pulled him out several feet. Taylor raised the lash and brought it down hard on Notaku's side.
The boy howled at the sudden searing pain, and scrambled to his feet as Taylor drew back for another strike. But Notaku was not about to let another strike fall. Howling once more, this time in anger, the youth darted forward and tackled the thin human around the knees. Taken by surprise by the unexpected attack, Taylor toppled backwards, the whip falling from his hands.
Notaku leapt on the man, punching any part of him he could reach, and fighting his attempts to pin him down. Lapsing into the Barbic dialect that was his native tongue, he roared his anger out at the sadistic wretch. Though young-sounding, there was still a ferocity about the boy's angry cries that made Brooker hesitate, before darting in to help. It was not so difficult to subdue the angry Barbic cub as it had been on their first encounter, but it was still a job. Notaku was angry, and his anger fueled his strength.
Panting, Taylor stood up, as Brooker pinned Notaku to the ground. "By the gods, that demonspawn...I should...he..." He sputtered, not able to express his fury. Notaku peered at him malevolently from under Brooker's weight.
"You shouldn't have let him get the drop on you. Pick up the blasted whip, Taylor." As he did so, Brooker got up on one knee, using the other to pin one of Notaku's arms to the ground. One hand clamped around the back of his neck, pressing the youth's face into the dirt. The human nodded, and Taylor picked up the whip once more.
Notaku could not get away from it this time, and yelled as the lash was laid on his back with a vengeance. He fought, of course, thrashed against the human the held him, but he was just about at the end of his strength, and soon could only cry out at the assault. At one point, Brooker held up a hand to Taylor, and the beating stopped for the time being. "Care to tell us the truth?" asked Brooker, his voice remarkably calm considering what was going on.
"I- told you!" Notaku gasped. "I foun -" But he did not get the chance to finish his sentence, for the lash sang once more. "Aghh! No, I told - told the truth!" he cried frantically through the flurry of lashes. "It was in - the caves, I though, aahh - it was in with the journal, I thought it was - it was the only starting point I had!"
Again, Taylor ceased at a hand gesture from Brooker, and this time no one said anything for a few long moments. Panting, not able to keep from sobbing aloud, Notaku prayed that they would not continue. Finally, Brooker spoke. "Where exactly did you find the parchment?"
It was a good sign that he was asking questions, and Notaku was grateful for it. "Th-the caverns," he said quickly. "The-the other human was there -"
"I saw him," said Brooker. "Where was the parchment?"
"It was - it was in a pouch on his...on his body," Notaku gasped.
"And the journal you found. Where was it?"
"I-in the chamber where the bed was..." He lay on the ground, eyes wide, teeth clenched, waiting to hear either Brooker's voice, or the whoosh of the lash. As it turned out, Taylor was the one who spoke.
"Ye think he's tellin' the truth?"
To Notaku's great relief, Brooker stood, letting go of his neck. "Truth to tell," he said quietly, "I wouldn't think a boy so young could keep up a lie under such duress. Which leaves us with a problem: we don't know where that addle-brained fool found this parchment. And he obviously can't tell us."
Taylor gave Notaku one last sadistic grin, then moved away, to hold council with the other humans. Once again left alone, the boy crawled back under the wagon and half lay, half collapsed in the dirt, muffling his sobs in the fur of his arms. Nothing could have prepared him for the terror and pain of being beaten with a whip, and in that moment, he wished for nothing other than to be safe at home.