There was naught a breath of wind yet or clouds in the sky for that matter. Graden set one foot in the canoe, and pushed off with the other. The canoe easily sliced through the glassy surface of the water, and Graden breathed in the moist air as he paddled along. He concluded that he would stick near the shore in order to stay in one direction, and he wouldn't have too far to go when he was done for the day. Unfortunately for Graden, he would never make it to the Ramr River. After his first day of canoeing, he camped, ate some cold hare, and set off again. The second day, like the first, had no wind, and he never saw the shallow bar stretching into the lake, and rammed straight into a rock, which punched a small hole in the bottom of the canoe. Bad luck balancing the good, Graden thought as he quickly and furiously paddled to the shore.

The hole was a small one, but still big enough to cause a problem. He took his pack out as well as his sword and dagger and pondered as to how he would solve this problem when a small train of people arrived on the horizon. He was relieved, he figured they would help him, but he still slipped his dagger in his boot. As they got closer, he made out four of them were mounted on horses, and half a dozen or so were behind them, keeping an even pace with the horsemen. Closer they got, and at last he saw that the ones on foot were bound by the wrists, and the rope stretched and looped around the neck of the one in front of the other. Blindfolds were around their eyes, and rope gags in their mouths. Graden tensed as they approached and came to a stop.

"Good day sirs," Graden said, "I'm having troubles with my boat here and I was wondering if any of you would be able to help me make repairs."

The horsemen turned and whispered to each other. At last they must have come to a conclusion and the tall thin one from the front approached him whilst the others dismounted and surrounded him. Graden watched tensely as the thin man came up and took a length of rope from his pocket. Then, from someone behind him, he was hit in the back of the head and immediately, Graden was unconscious.

When Graden opened his eyes, he thought he was blind. All that he could see was darkness. After sitting up, his head throbbed mercilessly. He tried to put his hand to his head, but his hands were bound together in front of him. Then he figured that he must be blindfolded…which was exactly what the others were like.

"Don't try anything," somebody to his right whispered, "they'll cut your throat if they think you're up to anything. There were seven of us before you, but a buddy of mine started freakin' out, so they cut his throat from ear to ear and left him for the buzzards."

"Hey shut up over there!" a voice from behind yelled.

"What do you people want?" Graden yelled, head still pounding.

"Naïve lad, must come from the northlands."

"I said WHAT THE HELL DO YOU PEOPLE WANT?"

"Feedin' time," a different voice said angrily. Rough footsteps came over to Graden and paused. The wind got knocked out of him as a thick boot went into his stomach. Graden curled up coughing heavily trying to get his breath back. A gloved hand grabbed his neck while the other hand grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open. He finally got his breath back when the man roughly shoved a large, stale piece of bread, then quickly tied a strip of cloth around his mouth. Graden was reduced to breathing through his nostrils while working on masticating the bread. It was very rancid tasting bread, with the occasional furry texture along the surface, and he was pretty sure that he felt something crawl across his tongue and rest on his palette. Nevertheless, after all the bread was down, he pressed his tongue against the bug and felt more than heard the sickening crunch and felt the wet insides seep on his tongue, and finally, he pushed the remains to the back of his throat and swallowed it all down.

The bug left an extremely bitter and gritty aftertaste in Graden's mouth. His stomach was quite queasy and he lay on his back, groaning quietly. His groans increased in volume until, five minutes later, he reached up with bound hands, ripped off the cloth covering his mouth, and vomited all of his stomach content to the side.

"Ohhhhhhh...I don't think someone cared too much for their bread," a gruff voice said in a babyish voice, "well maybe he'd like a little refreshment." Footsteps approached and once again, Graden was grabbed by the jaw, mouth open, and the man poured water on his face, some getting into his mouth. Graden coughed, and sent his first mouthful down his front, at least getting rid of the acidic tasting vomit remains out of his mouth. He drank down the rest of the water poured on him, then fell back and drifted off to sleep.