Chains of the Forest

by Darin Niemann

  Four armed men! Against one! Damned slavers... Riken was good but four men against one without a weapon was a ridiculous fight. Although I was impressed that he had survived such a fight, I raged against the slavers.

  “And your eye?” I asked hesitantly. Riken merely shook his head in reply.

  “Bastards, each and every one of them.” I spat, pounding my fist against the bars separating us.

  Riken didn’t respond, clearly saving his remaining strength to rest and recover. From the looks of it, I wasn’t sure if he would make it or not. I hope beyond all hope that he would, but after living and fighting in the arena for these past two years, I knew how close it would be. That night I slept fitfully, turning and tossing before finally succumbing to exhaustion.

  Four days passed in a blink. With nothing to do but keep my body in shape, I exercised. For the most part, Riken stayed silent. He sparingly used his energy to eat, but otherwise he rested. My rage had been building and now I longed for a fight. Each day I waited for them to come and take me to the arena once again, but they never did. They did come periodically to take Riken in order to change his bandages though.

  On the fifth morning, I awoke to shouts and screams. I jumped to my feet, blue eyes darting about attempted to see something. In the cell over, Riken was also awake this time sitting up against the bars.

  “Are you hearing this?” I asked him. He nodded, using his one good eye to watch the stairs that led to the upper levels. We heard the clang of weapons and the shouts and screams of dying men. Soon the sounds faded, with only the whispers of the other slaves finding their way to my ears.

  Riken and I looked at each other silently before we once again turned our gazes towards the stairs. Moments passed before my elven ears began hearing the telltale sound of boots on stone. Someone was coming and I mentioned as much to Riken. He nodded, knowing that I could hear better than he could. We both stood, though Riken leaned heavily against the bars. He was recovering but was still weakened.

  A man appeared on the stairs, constantly scanning around him for threats. He wasn’t a slaver nor was he one of the guards. The curious thing that I noticed was that he carried a staff rather than a sword. He was a tall and thin young man with long blonde hair. I guessed he was a handful of years older than I. Garbed in fine white robes he appeared as though he was some rich merchant, comparable to a few of the spectators I had seen in the arena’s stands.

  The blonde man noticed us, though he kept looking for threats. Behind him came soldiers dressed for war with shields and swords and spears. He approached our cells as they were nearest to the stairs, looking between Riken and me. The rest of the men with him continued on down the hall, looking about for any potential enemies.

  “Are there any more guards down here?” The man asked. I shook my head wordlessly, my head a tumbling mass of confusion, curiosity, and hope. Would they free us?

  The man, one hand on his staff the other on his chin, studied us with his dark green eyes. They flicked up as he noticed my pure white hair and pointed ears. Eyebrows rising slightly in surprise, he turn his attention from me and began examining the door.

  “The keys?” He asked me.

  I hesitated, perhaps this was some cruel trick of the slavers.

  “Unless of course you don’t want to be freed.” He smirked at me.

  “Guards have them, though they usually keep them down at their station near the end of the hall.” I pointed where the other soldiers had gone. I then gestured to my slave collar. “These keep us locked up more than the cells, though.”

  The staff wielder narrowed his gaze at the iron ring around my neck. He wore a sour face as he spat, “Slave collars, blasted things.”

  I silently agreed with him, though I was still afraid of the consequences of going against the slavers.

  “Are the slavers dead?” Riken asked, finally speaking up.

  The blonde man nodded to him, “Most of them, some escaped though.”

  I tried to turn the subject back to the collars, “What of the collars then? Can they be removed?” During my time here, I had only ever seen them taken off with the death of the slave.

  The man was about to answer when the guards returned with the keys to the cages. Mine was the first door unlocked, then Rikens and they continued down the line until all had been free. As arena slaves, though, we knew the power of the collar. We hesitated to leave our cages. The blonde man saw us pause even with the doors open wide.

  “Come,” he said, “I will remove the collars outside. It will take some time but it can most assuredly be done.” With that he climbed the stairs without looking back.

  One by one, the slaves began to follow him, still cautious yet hoping that they would soon be free. As Riken hadn’t yet made a move to follow, I waited until the last of the other slaves had gone up. I moved into Rikens cell and offered him help. He rested his good arm over my shoulders and we slowly but surely left the cages behind us.

  As we climbed the stairs, I noticed the glances of the soldiers taking pity upon us. It was expected, but I still didn’t like it. I spoke without turning to Riken. “It seems unreal, doesn’t it?”

  Riken chuckled softly, “Indeed it does. Been a long time since I’ve been a free man.”

  I pondered how long Riken had been here. He had never said, though I knew he had spent at least a few years as an arena slave before I had arrived. A thought floated in my mind that I quickly voiced. “Why did they free us?” I asked.

  We finally reached the top of the stairs and continued following the rest of the slaves as they headed for the exit.

  “It appears war has come to Zecresh.” Riken said, indicating the country we presided in. “These soldiers are from the neighboring country of Turinval, according to the symbols on their armor.”

  I took a closer look at the armor in question. In the top right of each soldier’s uniform was the symbol of a large, golden bird of prey with outstretched talons, amidst a sea of bright red roses. It was an unfamiliar symbol to me but Riken had apparently seen it before. We walked the rest of the way outside in silence. Finally we reached the last doorway that lead out into the open. Sunshine, bright, blessed sunshine, warmed us as we came under the open sky. The grass underneath my bare feet was a luxury in and of itself.

  The slaves had all been lined up in the grass and at the front of the line there was the blonde haired man from earlier. As I watched, a slave approached and the blonde man reached out and gently touched two fingers to the slave’s collar. He closed his eyes and paused for a brief moment before the collar sprang open, falling to the ground. The slaves all cheered and many eyes became misted as they realized that soon they would all be free men once again.

  The soldiers kept telling the slaves to move forward one by one, as some were wanted to be freed first. Still supporting Riken, we followed the line as it grew ever shorter. Eventually we stood before the blonde man once again, and I motioned for him to remove Riken’s collar first. The man obliged, falling silent as he gently touch the collar around Riken’s neck. When he mumbled a few words, I thought I saw a flash of light before the collar tumbled to the ground. He repeated his actions with my own collar and, even though it was not directly in my vision, I noticed another brief flash of light before the collar disengaged.

  I reached up with my free hand to massage my bare neck. It had been two years and it felt strange having nothing there now. I looked at the man who had just freed us all, “You're a mage.” I pondered aloud, though it wasn’t really a question.

  The blonde man smiled and nodded, “I am. The name’s Kolten.” He struck his hand out and I shook it.

  “Ruvaen.” I replied with my name.

  Riken stood on his own long enough to also shake Kolten’s hand, “Riken.” He said in his deep voice, announcing his own name as well.

  Kolten paused after hearing Riken’s name aloud. “Riken? As in the General Riken of Turinval?”

  Riken… a general? I had never asked about his
past before and he had never said anything, but it would certainly explain his exemplary combat prowess.

  Riken nodded, “It’s been awhile since I was last called by that title.”

  Kolten’s eyes widened at the revelation. “Everyone thought you dead. It’s been five years.”

  Riken sighed, wiping his face with his good arm. “I was sent to this country long ago with an ambassador to discuss terms. They mustn’t have liked us much as they killed my men, hanged the ambassador, and forced this slave collar upon me. Those who knew of my importance quickly grew bored of me and I wound up here.”

  I hadn’t heard Riken talk this much of his past ever before. Then again, I hadn’t spoken much of mine either. He only knew that I had nothing left to return to.

  Kolten shook his head at the wrongness of it all. “Well as you might have guessed, we are now at war with this godsforsaken country. We can’t spare much but we can lend a few soldiers and a couple horses to escort you back to the capital. I’m sure many in Osdriff would be glad to know that you yet live.”

  The burly man nodded acceptance. “I thank you for your generosity. It will be good to be home again.”

  The mage then looked my way, “And you, Ruvaen? Where will you go?”

  Startled by the sudden focus on me, I shook my head. “I don’t know. I have no home to return to.” I said sadly, remembering the peaceful elven village of my birth.

  Riken grabbed my shoulder then, “You're welcome to come with me. I can help you get settled in the capital, if that is your wish. Its up to you to decide where to go from here, though. That is freedom.”

  Freedom. A strange concept for sure, though I still wasn’t sure what I would do in the capital city of Turnival. I figured that staying with Riken was the least I could do for now. His training and guidance had allowed me to survive in the harshest conditions. Even if I was without family, I was glad that Riken had a home to return to. In any case, the one thing I knew for certain was that I had no desire to stay in Zecresh.

  I nodded, looking directly at Riken’s one good eye, “I’ve no thought as to what I should do now that I am free but I owe you my life. Making certain that you arrive at home will ease my mind.”

  At this Riken laughed, and clapped my back. “Kid, you owe me nothing. Nonetheless I’ll be glad for the company.”

  Kolten interrupted our conversation then. “Well, it has been an honor General Riken, Ruvaen. I’ll have the soldiers spare a few supplies for you and line up some men as escorts. If you would excuse me, I have a war to finish.” He said the last with a fierce glare in the direction of the city. The arena had been built on the fringes of the city, so there was much work left to be done for the army of Turinval. The mage bowed slightly in our direction before heading off to a nearby soldier and began gesturing and delivering orders.

  As we waited for the escort to get our supplies ready, the burly general spoke, “It will be good to see my family again. I have a wife, Delia, and a lovely daughter, Amara.”

  Surprised, I responded, “A daughter? You’re a father?”

  He chuckled, “Yes, she was around ten the last time I saw her.” He glanced at me for a moment before continuing. “She must be around your age now.” He sighed, “I've missed much.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that but I tried anyway. “Family will always be family. They will be glad of your return.” I spoke with confidence even though I knew little of his home life.

  Riken smiled, “True enough, Ruvaen, true enough.”

  We sat in companionable silence and soon the soldiers brought us some plain clothes and shoes. Having nothing to wear aside from our frayed shorts, they were a wonderful gift. That was another strange feeling to get used to. Wearing real clothing after years of nothing but rags.

  It wasn’t long before a group of five mounted soldiers came towards us followed by two riderless horses. At the sight of the large, strong creatures I became worried. I had never ridden a horse before. Riken must have noticed my apprehension as we stood up.

  “Never ridden before I take it?” He asked.

  I shook my head, still staring at the impressive animals. “Never. Is it hard?”

  He laughed a deep belly laugh, “Hard? Nay, it isn’t that bad. Though it does take a little getting used to.” His smile fell as he looked back at me, “You’ve been through tougher.”

  I nodded, knowing the truth of the words. “Teach me.”

  Quickly and efficiently, Riken went over the basics of horse riding. He taught me the purpose of the saddle, where to place my feet, and how to get up and down from the horse. He showed me the reigns and how to steer, which seemed straightforward. He was right; it didn’t seem all that complicated. Until it was actually time for me to attempt it, that is.

  Before mounting he had me stroke the horse’s neck gently to make sure it was calm and get acquainted with it. The horse I would ride was a deep rich chestnut color, spots of white here and there throughout its hair. It was quite a magnificent beast. Then, as I was taught, I lifted myself into the saddle. Once on, I paused to make sure everything was in order.

  Riken laughed again at my hesitancy. “You're doing fine; now all you need to do is give a slight tap with your feet.”

  As he said this, the burly man lightly touched his own pure black horse with his feet. His horse immediately responded, moving down the road at a slow but steady trot. The five soldiers, who had been patiently waiting, also followed his lead. Not wanting to be left behind, I gave a quick tap with both feet. The horse below me promptly started forward at a similar pace. I was doing it! I grinned as I made my way up to Riken, who had slowed his mount enough to allow me to catch up.

  He winked at my expression, “See, not too difficult, is it? Tonight I’ll show you how to care for the horse as well. It’s important to treat your mount with respect. If treated well, they can become great companions who will take you far.”

  And thus we rode on, following the road towards Riken’s home country. With the general still recovering from his wounds, we stopped often for breaks. I didn’t complain, though, as riding horse brought about the existence of muscles that I hadn’t trained before. Before long I was sore, but I still enjoyed the trip. The soldiers offered us dried meat during one of our breaks and it was delicious. Having anything besides plain gruel day after day was a wonderful change. It still amazed me that I was free and travelling under the open sky once more.

  That night we camped a good ways off the road. While the soldiers started a fire for our evening meal, Riken, true to his word, taught me how to care for the horses. With his wounded arm still in recovery, I had to remove both saddles from our horses, though Riken guided me every step of the way. After lightly brushing down, feeding, and watering both horses, Riken and I made our way to the fire. One of the soldiers, the cook, informed us that the simple stew would be ready shortly. Another came and helped to change Riken’s bandages. The mage Kolten had seemingly thought it through by sending us a soldier with at least some medical training.

  Both Riken and I devoured the simple stew. We each had seconds and even though none of the soldiers said anything, their gazes spoke volumes: pity, sadness, and finally happiness. They were glad that they had been able to help us earn our freedom. The soldiers spoke a bit to the general about the war and current politics of the kingdom, though it wasn’t long before we all settled down to sleep, aside from the person on watch. We were still in Zecresh after all and becoming too lax could be the end for us. Lying on my bedroll, I gazed up at the bright light of stars dotted throughout the sky. It would be long awhile before I tired of such a sight. I slept, and it was the most peaceful rest I had taken in years.

  Chapter 3

  We journeyed for many days, passing by a few towns and villages. At each place there were small bands of soldiers from Turinval. They had evidently invaded along the path we now took. We didn’t tarry long in any one place, though, only stopping for supplies and news. About a week into our journey t
he soldiers announced that we were within Turinval’s borders. The next town we passed was much improved compared to Zecresh’s settlements.

  For one, the citizens greeted the soldiers warmly here, offering encouraging remarks and praises. I also began to see other races such as elves and dwarves. They were uncommon, I was told, in the smaller towns and villages. Much more racial diversity could be found within the bigger cities of Turinval. I also noticed many curious gazes in my direction. Likely due to my pure white hair, which was unusual for someone so young. One of the soldiers noticed my discomfort and offered me his spare hooded cloak. I gratefully accepted.

  When we reached the first major city of Turinval, called Argem, it took my breath away. It was a large, sprawling city guarded by the thick stone walls rising up around it. Turrets were spaced at even intervals atop the mighty barrier. From where I stood, I saw a large open gate where people came and went from the city in droves; some on foot where others rode atop horses or inside carriages. Wagons were also pulled along, presumably carrying much needed supplies for those within the city. I had noticed that the road had become more crowded the further we traveled, but it hadn’t prepared me for this.

  Riken grinned at my astonished expression, as did many of the soldiers. “First time visiting a city?”

  I nodded wordlessly, still speechless at the existence of such a grand accumulation of people all in one place.

  He reached over and patted my back, “It is a sight to behold, is it not? Perhaps you’ll tell us where you came from to have never seen a city before.” He spoke the last bit cautiously, as if not wanting to force the issue. Our escorts immediately took interest. They had all been silently curious over where I had come from. A half-elf with pure white hair was a remarkably rare curiosity.

  I relented, and as we rode into the city began to convey my upbringing. I spoke of the quaint little elven village that I had been born into where even there I had been considered a rarity due to my half-human, half-elf heritage, not to mention my stark white hair. Reminiscing, I told them of my parents and how they had loved each other and me. The men all grimaced as I revealed that orcs had raided our peaceful village and my parents had fought to the last. I finished by telling them of my naivety at the ways of the world and how I had been easily lured and captured by slavers soon after leaving the forest.