Chapter 6

A few weeks before the man-wolf warriors left for war, rebel slaves were escaping on the other side of the camp. There were twelve in all: four teenagers, four adults, and four children. The oldest teenager happened to be the leader. He had no family and was a complete pest to the man-wolf slave masters; Hence, his name became "Mutt". His english wasn't perfect, but inside he was quite clever. The boy was just as old as Cornell and seemed to have just as much daring as a warrior. Mutt stood waiting in the trees along with the other three teenagers, with slingshots aimed below.

"Oy! Up 'ere yeh rotten heads!"

The four slave masters below looked up in the trees and were pelted in the face by four large rocks. The teenagers let fire four more rocks, before jumping from the tree branches and retreating back to the others.

"That'll knock 'em out fer awhile." Mutt said, signaling the rest to continue running. "In the meanwhile weh'd best get goin' afore they get ter their senses."

The band continued running for their lives through the forest. Mutt led the way through the maze of trees and to a lake. He took a quick glance back into the trees.

"Yeh'all know how ter swim, right?"

The group nodded.

"Very good. Glad weh sorted that out before weh left. Now jump!"

All twelve plunged into the lake and swam across non-stop. Mutt was the only one who turned back once he reached the middle of the lake. The slave masters stood back at the shore with disdain, watching the slaves escape. The escapee leader grinned.

"Afraid er a little water are yeh, Crush Claw?" Mutt yelled back towards the shore.

The slave master shoved his way to the front and glared back at the boy. Of all four of the brawny man-wolves, he was the largest and looked most fierce. As his name was, Crush Claw was not to be crossed. Nothing went wrong while Crush Claw was there. Crush Claw's temper was short and the one to cross him, slave or slave master alike, would receive a swift and painful death with his large fists and pike. Yet there was Mutt. He was the hope for the slaves...

"Mark my words, mutt!" Crush Claw yelled, "You come back here and I'll jab your guts out! Why don't you come face me properly eh, maggot?"

"Ah, not terday. Perhaps another time then. G' bye!" Mutt swam gingerly to the opposite shore to meet the others. Together they headed for the closest, and friendliest, village.

They walked twenty miles, but the journey was worth it. The village heard of humans becoming enslaved by man-wolves and were more than helpful to the escapees. The villagers hurried to provide them with good clothing and food to eat. Mutt in particular was grateful. Of the twelve, he was the slave who was starved by the man-wolves the longest, and was treated the harshest. Food had never tasted so magnificent since the last company he helped escape. It felt excellent to sleep in a warm and cozy bed, even if it was a make-shift one. This day, he wasn't forced to get up before the crack of dawn and worship some man-wolf tribe leader, then work making lumber and bricks. Even after that, he would be tortured into hard exercising and be forced to carry the same lumber and bricks every time the man-wolves migrated; which was nearly every season. Hence, Mutt ate all he could, and slept late into the day.

Late next afternoon, Mutt was prepared to return back to the camp. Former slaves and villagers gathered to wish him farewell, but inside they felt sorrow for Mutt. The normal villager's life was much easier and better than the life of a slave. When he returned, he was running a very high risk of getting tortured and killed. It was Mutt's choice. He gave his life to helping others escape the man-wolves slavery. Perhaps there would be a day that a child would be born free instead of in bondage like he was. Mutt knew it was likely that he would die by the man-wolves hand, freeing slaves. But that was his choice.

There was a short awkward silence as the group and the lone boy stared at each other. Eventually, Mutt smiled warmly and leaned on his new-found traveling staff.

"Ah, yer all lookin' glum. Keep high hopes, I just might return later, yeh'll never know..."

"Then why don't we go back with you?" A girl said. She was one of the teenagers that helped attack the slave masters.

"Nah; Yeh all deserve a better life. Yeh don't need ter be tortured. I'm used ter this sorter thing, a little more'n yeh are, Abigail."

Mutt sighed and started walking back towards the forest. He stopped and looked back at the others briefly. "'Tisn't good-bye. I won't have yeh lookin' all glummy-faced again."

As he walked on, Mutt took in the fresh smell of the air and the sunlight beaming down into the trees. Birds chirped and squirrels bustled about, making the forest come to life. He felt the cool grass between his toes, padding his bare feet. It was one of the best days in Mutt's life. Freedom felt so wonderful! Yet, as he neared closer and closer to the slave camp, his feeling of freedom started to evaporate. As he walked back on the flat grounds he was so familiar to, he once again started to feel like a slave. Two slave masters caught his sight and charged towards him. Mutt quickly regained his courage. He stood tall and watched them come forward with a smirk on his face. For a slave, he was quite cheeky.

He collided with them in a fight. Mutt used his traveling staff as a club, giving a few hard blows to the man-wolves. Despite his skinny size, he was quite strong. Whiplashes, clubs, and fist were thrown, making a few slaves peek out of their tents to witness the melee. Crush Claw strode forth from the main tent with a look like poisonous daggers. A few slaves couldn't bear to see what was going to happen next, so they quickly drew back into their tents, away from the enraged slave master. As Crush Claw came forward, he drew out his whip and in a flash he struck Mutt so hard across the face that the boy had stumbled over and fell. He grabbed Mutt by the neck and yanked him back up for round two. Crush Claw took the traveling stave in the other hand and beat him across the head with it, until he was satisfied that Mutt was senseless. Then he kicked the poor boy roughly back onto the ground.

"That wretch should have never returned." Crush Claw growled. "Bind his hands and take him to his post!"

The two slave masters that fought Mutt did as they were told. They dragged his limp body to a tree bordering the forest. There, they chained and roped his neck and arms to the tree so that he only had a few feet to move. Once he regained consciousness two hours later, Crush Claw was there. He scourged Mutt until he saw fit, and his temper calmed down. The man-wolf's chest heaved heavily.

"These slave grounds will be the last thing you ever see, mutt! Perhaps a two week famine and then hanging you will be good. Don't think I've forgotten what I said before..." Crush Claw poked his pike lightly into Mutt's chest and sneered. "I'll have your guts, even if it's a moment's breath before you die! I'd like to see you smirk and cheek now, eh!"

Mutt was too battered to think of an answer. He looked up distantly at Crush Claw and raised an eyebrow quizzically. The man-wolf returned the expression. Perhaps he had knocked the sense out of him...

"Did you even hear a word I just--?!"

Before Crush Claw could finish his exclamation, Mutt collapsed.

Later in the week, Mutt was still at his same post. Sure enough, he wasn't given any food or water by Crush Claw. The smell of decaying bodies hanging in the trees around him sickened his empty stomach. He didn't dare look up at them. Flies swarmed the area, bothering both the dead bodies and him. Mutt tried to stay optimistic. At least it wasn't winter and the weather wasn't harsh at all...

"Mutt, is that you?"

Two boys approached the tree where Mutt was chained. He recognized them from the slave camp as Orlando and Thorn. They were brothers, much younger than Mutt.

"Whew, we're glad you're still alive! But they said..."

"That they're goin' ter hang meh?"

Orlando nodded. "Yeah..."

"Prob'ly so. Ol' Crush Claw was bound ter sometime, hmm?"

"Oh..." Orlando didn't hide his disappointment. He was hoping that the famed Mutt would have some other trick up his sleeve to escape. He was one of the few rays of hope that the slaves had...

"Don't yeh worry, Orlando. I haven't given in just yet..." Mutt smiled to give the young boy hope, but inside he had the feeling that his fate was more than sealed.

Orlando and Thorn gave a smile back. Thorn looked around Mutt's surroundings and gave a look of disgust.

"How can they treat you like this? It's bad enough being a slave for them already! The black-hearted no-gooders... Oh! Here, mother's found something for you to eat, 'cause she figured you were starving!"

"Oy, yer mother is right. I'm famished!"

Orlando took the sack he was carrying on his back and handed it to Mutt. "Here you go. Um, I think it's a loaf of bread, a wedge of cheese, honey, and some water. Sorry, it was all we could find..."

"That's alright, 'tis plently. Send meh thanks ter her, would yeh?"

Orlando and Thorn nodded. Mutt waved them goodbye as they headed back towards the camp.