Legon Awakening: Book One in the Legon Series (18 page)

“Why don’t you join us in our camp?” one of the men
said, pointing with his bow up the road just a bit.

They went without a word, Sasha and Keither intently
staring at their hands. This was a good strategy for Sasha. If a
woman appeared submissive and scared the men would be less likely
to harass her. After all, that’s how people like this thought women
should be. But Keither needed to at least look like he had a
backbone or the men would teach him a thing or two.

They entered a small clearing off to the right of the
road. There were three tents set up and a smoldering fire in a pit.
They maneuvered the horses to the left side of the camp, leaving
plenty of room for more tents when the other guards arrived. Legon
figured it would take about a day for a messenger to reach the
town, so if they played their cards right they could escape before
the other five showed up. Two on four didn’t suit Legon, but it was
better than two on ten.

“Get off your horses, throw down your weapons and
stand in a line,” a guard said. They dismounted and placed their
stuff on the ground before them, Sasha trembling and Keither
shaking. Legon knew the look Kovos was wearing, the “I’m going to
do some damage” look that he always got before a big fight. Kovos
was a nice guy, but cross the line with him and, well, Legon just
hoped his friend would keep it under control until the right time.
He didn’t blame him. His own feeling of fear was slipping away and
his body coursed with the energy that came with losing himself,
letting go, and letting his fists or maybe that big cleaver do the
talking. But not now.

One of the men pointed at Sasha and threw her some
ropes. “You tie them up, starting with those two. Tie them to that
tree.”

No surprise there; have the least threatening take
care of the others so they only had to take care of her.

Sasha came up to Legon, who turned his back and
allowed her to bind him. Her hands were damp with sweat and cold,
her fingers barely able to form the knots. Legon knelt down next to
the tree, never taking his eyes off the men. He wanted to aggravate
them, wanted them to go for him. Soon Kovos was next to him and
Keither’s hands were bound, but not to the tree.

“Good work, pretty. Now turn around and place your
hands behind you. Do anything dumb and we’ll see if your insides
are as nice as your outside, got it?” She nodded and turned. The
man came up behind her and wrapped the rope tightly around her
wrists. He leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She turned
her head away and her breath caught when he grabbed her backside.
She quickly walked to Legon and knelt down by him, almost like she
was trying to hide behind him. He had expected them to grab Sasha.
Soldiers were always grabbing women in town. It made him mad, but
all in all it could have been worse.

“Our commander should be back before nightfall, so
you four just sit tight,” he said and started to leave, but then
turned back around. “Oh, I almost forgot… gag.”

At the command, one of the men came up to them and
placed a large wad of stained and dirty rag in each of their mouths
and tied it in. The rags had probably been used to wipe sweat from
the soldiers’ faces and necks. There was a taste of salt, dirt, and
several other things Legon didn’t want to think about. Keither
gagged a bit. This was not good. If their commander was supposed to
be back tonight then that meant they would have to try to escape
from ten royal guards, not just four, and that this whole thing was
a trap. A bead of sweat ran the length of his back, and he was
feeling weak from the lack of sleep and food.

The sun was getting lower in the sky and the light
coming thought the treetops was getting fainter. Soon they could
hear the sound of hooves clopping in the distance and the soldiers
arose, looking to see the new visitors. Five more soldiers rode
into camp—the same five from town. The commander looked smug.

“Thought you could outsmart us, did you?” he jeered.
They said nothing.

The men were off their horses and walking to them.
The one that had killed Moleth looked down, surveying them. He
stopped when he saw Keither. “Well looky here, if it isn’t the
tough one that tried to best me in town.”

The commander looked at Keither, who was still
hunched over and shaking. “I think they may need a lesson on how to
treat authority.”

Kovos attempted to say something through his gag. One
of the men kicked him hard in the ribs.

The men chuckled and the leader said, “There’s no
teaching this one, at least not in the field. We can tutor him back
in Bailaya.” They were headed to the capital, then. This was not
good at all.

The man continued, pointing at Legon. “You won’t get
this one either, but we may be able to teach the fat one,” he said,
reaching down and pulling off Keither’s gag.

The one that killed Moleth laughed. “Permission to
have some fun, sir,” he said in a dark tone. The commander waved
his hand and stepped back.

The man pulled Keither into the center of the camp by
his shirt, the whole time the boy mumbling incoherently. The man
turned and hit Keither across the mouth to cheers from the other
men and a groan from the boy. Keither hit the ground and was pulled
back up to be hit again, this time cutting his lip. Legon felt
Sasha bury her head in the back of his shoulder. She hated
violence. Two of the men walked out and held Keither up, allowing
their friend to have an unmoving target. With every blow Keither
tried to yell, but with the blood in his mouth it was getting
harder. The other two men were starting to join in now, hitting him
in the kidneys and on his sides. The beating seemed to take a long
time, and in the end Keither lost consciousness. The men dropped
him to the ground and gave him a few kicks that Legon suspected
broke his ribs.

The sun seemed like it was taking forever to set. The
commander walked forward to address them. “Now we have a long
journey ahead of us, and I hope this shows you what happens if you
don’t do what you are told. We will leave bright and early in the
morning, but don’t worry. If you need anything, two men will always
be awake to help you,” he said with a gracious smile.

He started to turn and stopped at a look from one of
his men. He turned back around, knelt down in front of Sasha, and
said in low but carrying tone, “My men and I spend a lot of time on
the road, and we don’t get the luxuries that most do. That means
that they’re going to need something to do to keep them occupied. I
hope you can sleep well in the saddle, because I can guarantee you
won’t be sleeping at night.” Sasha’s eyes jerked up.

He laughed and his men joined in, starting to make
cat calls at Sasha. He reached forward, pulled off the gag, and
grabbed Sasha’s hair, pulling her up bodily from the ground. She
tried to pull away. “Good. I like it when they have some fight.
Don’t worry, honey, you get me first. I’ll be real gentle,” he
said, pulling her screaming along.

Legon lurched forward, yelling though his gag. The
man turned and smiled. “Oh, do you like to watch? Ok, you can
watch.” He threw Sasha to the ground in front of him. The man
placed his knee on her back and cut the cords holding her. More
cheers came from the men. “Give it to her, sir!” He rolled her over
and she tried to hit him. His hand came across her face hard,
causing her lip to bleed. He was on top of her then, pulling up her
skirt, trying to part her legs. He hit her again. Her eyes were
full of tears. She looked up at Legon, pleading for him to stop
this, but he couldn’t. He felt the rope cutting deeper into his
wrists. This wasn’t happening. Where was the Elven side now when he
needed it? He’d gotten her legs apart and pinned her wrists above
her head with one hand, smiling wickedly as he felt up her shirt
with the other. His hand went down to his pants that were now
covered in Sasha’s skirt. He was fumbling around, grunting, trying
to hold her down. He pulled down his pants. There was a look of
triumph on his face.

“Are you ready honey?”

She tried to beg. “No please, no please, please NO!”
The commander laughed.

Legon heard a slight hiss and felt a breeze, saw a
slight blur by his eyes and then heard a gurgled scream from the
commander. An arrow shaft rose from where his neck met his body.
Blood sprayed from the wound, peppering Sasha’s face scarlet.
Before the man could get his hands up to the arrow Legon felt a
second breeze and saw a figure leaping from the trees, long hair
flowing in the air, two long blades in his hands. The ropes binding
him were swiftly cut.

The soldiers were running for their swords, but their
ambusher was on them. The soldiers had left their captives’
possessions nearby, and Kovos and Legon lunged for their weapons.
Kovos’ hands wrapped tight around the handle of his sword. The look
on his face was that of an insane man. Legon’s hand found the
handle of the cleaver, the new one for splitting animals, the one
he hadn’t gotten a chance to use. There was no one to stop the rage
this time, no one at all.

One of the men rushed at him with a sword in his left
hand, arm outstretched. “
That won’t do,”
he thought. Legon
moved forward and roared as he swung the huge cleaver up. It made
contact with the man’s left armpit, passing through cloth and flesh
with ease. He felt the blade jerk as it separated the joint, making
a crunching, slurping sound. The rest of the tendons and ligaments
cut with ease. The blade went in shiny and silver and came out red
and with bits of bone and flesh stuck to it. The man screamed as
his arm fell to the ground followed by its owner, bleeding
everywhere, slicking the rocks and turning the dirt to mud. He only
got flashes of the fight the others were in before two more men
came at him. Maybe it was the surprise of the attack or perhaps the
ferocity of it, but the royal guard seemed to be outclassed.

As the next guard approached him he lashed out,
swinging at the man who dodged and parried with his sword. The man
aimed a stroke at his head but was deflected by the cleaver. This
thing was not a battle ax, and even if it was Legon had no idea how
to use it. He needed to end this fight fast. His opponent was
gaining ground and his companion was soon to join. As the soldier
brought his sword back, Legon slammed into him with his shoulder,
making him slip in the bloody mud. As he fell, his companion ran
forward wildly. Legon side stepped and as the man passed him, swung
the cleaver high above his head and brought it down on the passing
man. During their fun the soldiers had removed their helmets, and
the man’s skull didn’t do much to stop the blow. There was a
thudding sound as the metal passed effortlessly thought the brain
and neck, then along his spine, popping ribs from vertebra just
like it would in every other animal. It stopped about a foot into
the man’s upper body. He turned on his heel, pulled out the blade
with a squelching noise and brought it down on the man that had
fallen. He tried to raise his arm to protect himself, but there was
just a slight jolt as the cleaver cut through his forearm and a
crunch as it buried itself deep in the man’s chest.

* * * * *

“
He’s going to rape me,” Sasha thought.

There was no way it could be stopped, and all of the
others were going to do it too. She tried to fight, but it just
seemed to make him stronger. Her vision jarred as he slapped her.
He was trying to part her legs and move up her skirt. He was so
much bigger than she, and he was toying with her, enjoying the
sport. Again he hit her and again this gained him ground. He was
between her legs now and had her skirt up. His rough hand ran up
her body, under her shirt, grabbing and feeling her. His hand went
down to his pants. She could feel the rough fabric against the
insides of her thighs as he tried to get them off. His breath
stunk. Yellow teeth glinted back at her from his wicked grin.

She was talking but she wasn’t sure what she was
saying. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Fear was ripping
through her, along with humiliation. She looked over at Legon and
Kovos. He was going to make them watch—they were all going to
watch. Both men were a blur though the tears, but she saw the
murder in their eyes, both so close and yet neither could save her.
If only she could have an episode. Then at least she wouldn’t have
to be awake for this.

Something warm sprayed her face. She tasted metal.
She looked up at the man. There was an arrow shaft growing out of
his neck; blood came from it like a fountain. He was falling
forward on her, but there was movement, something off to the
side.

There was noise all around, but somehow she didn’t
hear it. She rolled the man off her and looked to see Legon running
forward with a meat cleaver. She jumped as the cleaver severed a
man’s arm. She turned her head and saw Kovos with a sword. He was
fighting two men. The look in his eyes scared her. Everything else
was numb, but those eyes… there was savage hate in them, a look
she’d never seen before. This wasn’t how fights were supposed to
be. In her head, men had always gotten cut and just died. They
didn’t bleed to death, thrashing on the ground.

There was also far more blood than she’d previously
thought. Every time someone got hit with a blade it looked as
though the assailant had a wet cloth that they were waving around,
but instead of covering the tents, trees, and horses with water, it
was with blood.

There was another man there as well, the one that had
started the fight. His back was to her, but his long hair was
familiar. He was holding two swords that were curved along the
forward edge and thicker about two-thirds of the way down. Then
they came to sharp points. “
Who is he?”
she thought. “
I
wish he would turn around
.
”

* * * * *