by Jacinta Jade
Thankfully, however, her body had stopped hurting so much, due to the new numbness that made her tingle all over, although she wished the same numbness would extend down to the large blisters that had formed on her heels from the constant movement and friction of her shoes.
Into the third day of their march, the terrain around them began to change, the tree-spotted grasslands thinning out until rocks and boulders began to be the principle features of the landscape. The air grew colder and the clouds thicker, indicating they were moving higher.
Siray didn’t register any of it. She saw the rocks, of course, and felt the colder air, but her capacity to take in information from the outside world, process it, and reach an informed conclusion was presently beyond her strength. Now, her whole being was focused on survival and how she and her friends could get through this. Which also helped to stop her from dwelling on terrible memories.
They couldn’t have been far from the next guard post when Siray heard a guard near the middle of the column order, ‘Halt!’
Siray gratefully came to a standstill, remaining motionless and silent, too tired to worry about why they’d been stopped.
But then something managed to shake the bubble of fatigue that was shielding her mind, and she grasped that the soldiers had moved up close to her spot in the column. With horror, she realised that they had pushed in between the captives a row or so behind Siray, which meant—
‘You die where you fall,’ came the horribly familiar saying.
Siray turned her head in a rush. And saw Jorgi.
He was lying on the ground, almost on the feet of those in the row behind him. His eyes were closed, and his face was pale.
Siray sucked in a gasp of cold air. Despite the warning from the guards about Changing, she and the others had risked shielding Jorgi from view during the privacy breaks, so he could have just a couple of moments at each guard post to Change into his hopul form to help him heal. The strategy had stopped his bleeding, but even so, his body had remained weak from the original wounds, the march denying his own physical form the chance of any real recovery.
She had known, of course, from her observations and Tamot’s updates, that Jorgi had been getting weaker as the marched progressed, but she had thought he’d be able to hold out until the next guard post. Until he could next Change.
As one soldier placed a foot on either side of Jorgi’s body and raised his sword, an image of Deson slid into Siray’s mind, and she took a stumbling step in Jorgi’s direction, unable to bear the thought of losing another friend. She wasn’t alone.
Tamot moved even before she did, and Zale, Baindan, and Kovi, who were closest, also shifted.
From the corner of her eye, Siray also saw Genlie move, but Kovi was quick to motion her to stay put. Wexner was standing slightly farther away, and as a guard had stopped right by his side, Siray watched him widen his stance a little, preparing for the worst.
Kinna and Loce, however, appeared too exhausted and numb to move.
The soldier paused in his movements, seeming surprised at the sudden movement around him. He got over it fast. ‘You think you can stop me?’ he asked, amused. He glared around at Siray and the others who had moved towards Jorgi, signalling to more of the guards. ‘I ought to kill you all right now,’ he snarled.
‘Hold!’
The shouted command made Siray twist, and when she identified the new speaker, her stomach fell. It was Captain Raque. When had he re-joined them? Last time she had seen him, he had been mounted on a beast and riding away, another squad of soldiers travelling with him.
‘Hold there,’ the captain repeated as he marched up to Siray’s end of the column. He strode into the midst of the prisoners to stand over Jorgi and next to his own soldier.
All the other captives had stiffened and were either openly, or covertly, watching it all play out.
‘You all know the rules,’ the captain growled at them all. ‘You fall, you die. And yet, you five,’ he said, pausing to scrutinise Siray and the males, ‘seem to think this pathetic male deserves some kind of special consideration.’
Siray didn’t dare move a muscle at this point, but she was scouring her brain for a way to save herself and her friends. Because, surely, they were all about to die.
Turning her head to look at the others, she also saw Genlie and Wexner tensing, readying themselves to fight.
‘So,’ the captain continued, his voice smug. ‘I’ll give you a chance to prove you’re right.’ He waved aside the soldier who had been ready to run Jorgi through.
Siray didn’t have to work to keep her face blank—she had no idea what was happening.
‘Carry your friend,’ the captain said softly. ‘You five who stepped forward.’
Siray just blinked in confusion as he nodded to her and the four males. Her body was exhausted, and just to think straight was hard. She needn’t have worried, though, as the captain’s next words were clear in their meaning.
‘If you don’t pick him up right now, I’ll kill him. But, if you fail to carry him the rest of the way, I’ll kill all six of you.’
A choice.
Despite the fog in her mind, Siray understood the captain’s intention. He meant to punish them for attempting to rescue Jorgi, use them as an example to the rest of the captives.
But if the five of them couldn’t carry Jorgi the whole way, would he really kill them?
Siray looked at the captain, then at the faces of the captives around them, who were looking elsewhere but who all appeared exhausted and scared.
Yes, she thought. He really will.
There were still a large number of captives in the column, and the captain had never said how many they needed for their program. And maybe he didn’t have a number in mind. Maybe he didn’t care if he had just one captive left at the end of this terrible march, as long as they proved they were strong.
The silence had gone on a few breaths when Tamot stepped forwards again and knelt beside Jorgi.
After exchanging a quick look with Wexner, who relaxed slightly and dipped his head, Siray stepped forwards with Zale and Baindan, and then Kovi, who was nudged by Baindan to break the look of apology he was sending Genlie.
The captain backed out of the column, smirking, saying to the guards looking on, ‘Watch them.’
Siray and the others exchanged looks, and Siray could see Kinna, Loce, and Genlie looking on nervously over her friends’ shoulders.
‘How do we do this?’ mumbled Tamot tiredly.
‘We could put his arms around our shoulders,’ Zale responded.
Baindan shook his head slowly. ‘He’s out cold. And I doubt he’d have the energy to hang on even if he were awake.’
Kovi nodded. ‘If only we had something to carry him on.’
‘We do,’ Siray said instantly, the idea coming from nowhere. She took off her long-sleeved overshirt, leaving her standing there in a sleeveless undershirt. They had used their clothes as tools before to help them survive, so why not now? Especially when the cool temperature was still bearable. She stepped across to Jorgi’s body and tied her shirt around his ankles. Standing, she continued to hold on to the ends of the shirt and then pulled it up a little way from the ground.
Jorgi’s legs lifted.
‘We’re waiting,’ drawled the captain threateningly.
The others didn’t say anything but immediately copied Siray’s example, sliding their shirts underneath Jorgi’s hips and shoulders. Then they lifted, and Jorgi was off the ground.
One of the soldiers gestured for them to leave the column and take up a position at the rear of the group of captives where their escorts would have a clear view of them.
And where the other captives couldn’t see them, and hold on to hope, Siray thought.
Wexner, Loce, Genlie, and Kinna took the opportunity to take positions closer together within the formation, and Siray understood the silent move for what it was. A signal that the four of them would be ready to fight if needed.
> The order to march was given, and the column moved off.
With Siray at the front carrying Jorgi’s legs, and the four males at the back holding the weight of his mid and upper body, they began to move along again behind the column of captives.
When the five of them had first picked up Jorgi’s limp form, Siray had felt a small spark of hope light up within her, and she had almost felt energised for a moment through her and her friend’s ability to work together to help each other.
But not long after they began trudging along after the other captives, Siray began wishing she could resume her former place within the column itself, walking without any weight.
In the next moment, though, she felt horribly guilty, so instead she began wishing horrible things on the guards, including visualising tearing them apart with her sevonix claws and fangs.
When they reached the next guard post a span or so later, Siray’s whole body, especially her hands and back, were suffering.
In comparison, she almost missed the pain she had experienced on the first day of marching.
Jorgi hadn’t woken as the five of them had carried him along, and now he still didn’t open his eyes as they were given leave by the guards to lower him to the ground for the break.
Siray peered at him in concern, and then her stomach twisted as a terrible idea occurred to her—that Jorgi might have died since she’d last checked on him and that they had since been carrying a corpse.
Tamot, who was protectively kneeling near Jorgi’s head, must have seen her expression, as he said, ‘He’s okay. Just sleeping.’
Siray shoulders slumped, relieved by Tamot’s words. She didn’t think she could handle any more of her friends dying. Further, Tamot’s voice sounded croaky, making her swallow in sympathy, and that made her aware that she was desperately thirsty too.
And that was when she realised the second impact of their bid to save Jorgi.
They were at the end of the column.
Which meant they would be last in line for food and water, with little chance of getting either.
She almost wanted to sit down and cry at that thought, but she didn’t have the energy to spare.
And that, Siray thought to herself, was probably the other part of the captain’s punishment. She was beginning to wonder seriously for the first time if she would survive.
Siray watched enviously with Zale, Baindan, Tamot, and Kovi as the other captives went to get food and water, and even found herself resenting Genlie, Wexner, Loce, and Kinna as they collected their portions, even though the four of them shot her and the others looks of sympathy and whispered words of encouragement around their mouthfuls as they walked past back to positions further up the column.
Siray quickly glanced away from her friends as they ate, the sight actually causing her stomach to hurt. But she knew, as the others did, that no captive was allowed to share food. Not that they had much to share even if they could, given that they were only allowed to make a quick grab for portions.
When their turn at the barrels finally came, Siray found herself walking fast beside the males as she tried to get to the food barrel first. It was a desperate feeling, and one she didn’t want to think too much about lest the depth of her desperation scare her.
But when she got to the barrel, she slumped. Only crumbs remained.
She felt the tense bodies of the males behind her and promptly stumbled away so they could see the bottom of the barrel for themselves.
Knowing there was nothing to be done, but worse to be had if they made any fuss, she moved away, going to the water barrel. Thankfully, there was plenty of water remaining for them to drink. Which said something about the number of captives they had lost along the way.
Kinna, Wexner, and Loce hissed last words of encouragement to the five of them as Siray’s small group walked along the length of the column to its rear, but Siray doubted Kovi heard any of it as he was too busy rapidly whispering other things to Genlie.
When the five of them were standing around Jorgi once more, she asked the males softly, ‘How long do you think we’ll last?’
Baindan shrugged. ‘If we don’t get food at the next break? Another half-day. Maybe.’ His voice was quiet on the last word.
‘We can last longer than that—we’ve had water after all,’ Tamot insisted, just as quietly, even as he worked to get Jorgi to swallow a few sips from his cupped hands.
Baindan shook his head. ‘Not if they keep forcing us to march all day and night. Our bodies are being pushed to their physical limits. And mentally …’ He shook his head again. ‘Don’t be surprised if you start seeing things,’ he warned. ‘We’re getting to the state where our minds are going to start trying to force images on us to try and communicate what the body wants.’
‘Great,’ Siray said hoarsely, grimacing.
The other captives had formed back up into the column by then, and the new guards had taken up their positions.
‘March!’
Siray bent down with the others to lift their friend.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
AFTER TWO and a half days of marching, with no sleep, and now carrying Jorgi’s weight, Siray felt like she had been walking all her life. She was always exhausted, her mind enveloped in a fog that wouldn’t lift.
The only thing that saved her and the others from breaking down were the breaks when the column was forced to stop its march several times when other captives unknown to them collapsed.
At one point, Siray thought she saw several yeibons galloping silently over the rocks far off in the distance to her right. But when she blinked and looked again, they were gone.
When they reached the next guard post, Siray’s hands and arms were so sore from carrying Jorgi that she almost would have rather kept on marching than have forced her hands to unclench and her back to bend to lower him.
Once he was on the ground, though, she pivoted and saw the barrels the soldiers were dragging out for the captives.
And she remembered. Food. Water.
She licked her lips, her energy surging as the other remaining captives bolted for the food barrel, but she had barely taken a step in that direction when a hand on her shoulder checked her. ‘Not yet,’ Baindan whispered.
With some difficulty, Siray reined in her desperate need for sustenance and spun away so she wouldn’t have to watch the others. She didn’t trust herself not to do something crazy if she saw them eat.
When the guards finally indicated that Siray and the four males could take their turn, they moved as fast as their fatigued bodies would allow, Siray almost throwing herself at the food barrel in her desperation.
And this time, there was food. Not much, but for their tired and hungry bodies, it was enough.
Not pausing to stop and acknowledge why they were able to eat this time around, Siray grabbed up a handful of stale food and lurched away, barely remembering to stop by the water barrel first to rapidly cup up some mouthfuls of the precious liquid in her hand.
The food made the difference. It gave her instant energy and more clarity then she’d had for the last six spans.
She could do this. She could survive.
A short time later, they were on the move again.
Siray kept repeating her new mantra to herself as they continued on and darkness fell around them. She kept repeating it even as she and the other captives stumbled over rocks, climbed steep ridges, grew cold, and, finally, were soaked through as a driving rain fell.
When they left the next guard station, at least ten bodies were left behind—those who had collapsed and fallen asleep, never to wake.
The column was now significantly smaller than when they had first began the march, although Siray’s tired mind couldn’t count the number that had died.
When they set out again, it was in complete darkness, but they appeared to be moving downhill, which was actually harder than going up had been, and Siray found her legs straining as she tried to stop her feet from sliding out from under her
on loose rocks.
The weight of Jorgi’s body felt greater than ever, and when they finally reached flat ground, Siray was intensely relieved.
Her muscles felt weak and didn’t seem to be cooperating with what she wanted them to do half the time, and her right knee wobbled every second step, while the muscles in her back twitched constantly.
Although she thought that one of the males behind her might have been whispering words of encouragement, she barely heard them, all of her attention dedicated to placing one foot in front of the other.
The sight of yeibons galloping nearby was a wonderful distraction, and Siray didn’t try to blink or shake the visions away as they played and ran together far off to her right. They seemed to be calling her, but when she thought of Changing and joining them, she couldn’t find that centre within herself where the patterns of her forms lay.
Sometimes she gained enough awareness to hear Jorgi mumble something, or one of the others comment on something they thought they were seeing, but as soon as it quietened down again, her world contracted to the shirt she was holding and the ground before her.
So, she kept marching with the others, holding on to her share of Jorgi’s weight and watching as the yeibon spirits cantered back and forth in the distance, their red coats clearly visible despite the darkness.
After a time, Siray heard someone make a sound from within the column ahead. Not an actual word, which would have been astonishing because of their extreme exhaustion, but still a sound of surprise.
It was unusual enough that she used precious energy to raise her head, and the sight that greeted her almost made her drop Jorgi’s legs.
