Page 10 of Glass and Bone
“Put her over there.” The second man orders as he walks away from us. Jeremiah takes a couple more steps before sliding me down his body and onto the hard ground with athud. I immediately shoot up, but his sharp hand across my cheek forces me back down where I land on my back with a wince. Black threatens the edges of my vision as I fight against the pain. I push myself up into a sitting position with trembling arms and try to shake my head to clear away the fuzziness.
Jeremiah’s hood has fallen off his head, so I can see his shaggy hair and dull brown eyes perfectly with the light from the fire as he crouches down in front of me. His dark eyes are hardened, his skin clean and hairless. He looks ordinary, nothing setting him apart from the rest. I look around and similarly looking men all stand around, their eyes focused on me. Varying degrees of cleanliness spread around the camp, which makes me wonder if they have all come together under this one goal or if they were a group prior? I can feel the blood trickling down my cheek from my hairline as I look back at Jeremiah.
“Please, just let me go.” I plead, attempting to keep my voice as even as possible.
“Shut up, princess.” He snaps and rises out of his crouched position. I stay seated on the ground as I look around, the backs of my bare legs pressing into the cold mud. The only structure in the clearing is the fire pit, with the men all standing around, there has to be at least seven of them. No tents or horses, which makes me wonder if this is their actual camp or just a pitstop on the way. The ashy smell is emanating from the fire pit as I realize it isn’t just wood they are burning. I can just make out something fleshy before I tear my gaze away, nausea pooling in my stomach.
My eyes blur as I fight back the tears and swallow against the lump forming in my throat. I try to pull my dress down to cover myself up, but the shreds remaining aren’t enough and I am nearly completely exposed. I situate them to cover in between my legs, leaving my legs bare. Blood is steadily pouring out of the gash in my thigh, deep enough that I can see tendons and muscle through the blood. I place my hand on it and try to apply as much pressure as I can. I grit my teeth as I exhale against the pain.Gods, that’s deep.
I take slow, calming breaths as I leave my fingers tightly pressed against the wound, fighting the screams lodging my throat. The sour taste in my mouth is replaced with a dry coppery tang that seems to coat my tongue like mud. I see the second man returning with ropes and I start to back away, my free arm straining against my weight as it digs into the mud, my breath nothing more than short gasps. The fire illuminates his figure, and he looks like he could be Jeremiah’s twin. They have the same brown hair and dark eyes, same perfectly shaven face.
“Please, please don’t do this.” I cry out. He bends down and pulls my legs, sliding me closer to him. I fall onto my back and kick out, trying to get away, but he easily deflects my limbs. Rocks and dirt scrape up my back and legs as he situates me between his feet. He kneels down onto my shins, and I yell out as the compression makes it feel like my bones will snap in half. Starbursts explode behind my eyelids, and I bite my lip to keep the screams at bay. I try to move my legs to lessen the tension, but they are stuck. I can feel my thigh pulsing as the pressure on the wound is removed.
“Hold her down.” He snaps as Jeremiah comes from behind and grabs my shoulders, pressing me into the wet dirt. The second man roughly wraps the ropes around my wrists, his eyes fixed on mine. I can feel the rough fibers slicing into my skin as he tightens them. He knots my hands together, leaving a bit of rope dangling out, probably to use as a leash.
“Please don’t do this. I have money, I can pay you well.” I beg again. He narrows his eyes as he finishes his knot, the movement causing me to wince.
“Your money means nothing to us, princess.” The men around us all chuckle loudly as they nod towards me. No doubt amused by the sad little girl in front of them who is just moments from either being raped or murdered. I glare at them, but I’m sure I look just as menacing as a baby bird.
My captor rises and walks to the others, where they quickly become engrossed in a hushed conversation. Jeremiah stays crouched behind me, preventing me from making a run for it, not that I could get far. I can’t hear what the other men are saying, but it looks as if they are planning something. Jeremiah is squinting in their direction, trying to hear just as much as I am.
“Why are you doing this?” I ask him, but he refuses to meet my eyes. “I’m a child. I am somebody’schild. Please.” I whisper. He clears his throat, but still doesn’t look at me.
“That is exactly why we are doing this.” His voice is rough, monotone. No hint of emotion or care.
“I don’t have to be. Please, I’ll disappear. I’ll go anywhere. I don’t want this life anyway.” His eyes meet mine briefly, contemplating.
“You would give up a life of riches and royalty?” I nod. “That easy?” I nod again, and he just snorts.
“I don’t want to be in Noterra. I don’t want to marry the prince. I don’t want any of this. I’ll disappear, I promise. Just tell me what you want from me.” I admit. His lips press into a thin line. It’s the truth. This is the last thing I want.
The other man walks back over, the rest of them dispersing into the trees aside from Jeremiah. He bends down and grips the remaining rope, pulling me to my feet. I wince against the coarse threads cutting into my skin with the pressure as I stumble to regain balance, my leg almost giving out from my wound.
“Please.” I cry as I lean to the left, alleviating the tension on my right leg.
“She said she would disappear, that she doesn’t want to get married.” Jeremiah interjects. His voice is softer than it has been, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s contemplating my words.
“And you believe her?” He pulls me against his chest, his arm wrapping around my stomach and his fingers splaying out over my mostly bare abdomen. He makes soft, slow circles against my hip with his other hand, and I fight against the desire to flinch. The feeling, it’s intimate as if he’s a lover touching his wife, not a savage holding a young girl captive. I dig my broken nails into my palms, not even registering as they slice through the delicate skin, joining the collection of half-moon scars.
“I do. We could use her to our advantage.” I will my eyes to soften, false appreciation for the man who was seconds away from raping me. The man holding me against him just laughs, his body jostling. Fear finally shivers down my spine, breaking through the numb exterior of my mind. My pulse quickens and I can feel sweat beading on my hairline, either from the adrenaline making its way through my system or the pain that is constant.
“It’s not worth the risk. She’ll run the second she has a chance too.”
“You don’t know that.” Jeremiah deflects, his hands moving to his hips.
“I won’t, please. You can take me anywhere, I’ll disappear, change my name. I’ll never come back here.” I will my voice to stay steady as I hold Jeremiah’s gaze. His eyes soften slightly before he steps back and shakes his head, a deep chuckle erupting behind me, tickling the nape of my neck.
No.
“Watch the camp, Jeremiah. We won’t be long.” I glance around hoping one of the men will save me, prevent this, but I know that’s unlikely. As my eyes drift over the clearing I see that they are all still gone. I can feel the bile rising in my throat as I try to think of anything that could get me out of this, but my mind is blank.
My father cursed me, doomed me, by not teaching me how to protect myself. He thought it was to protect himself without even thinking of the horrors that awaited me past our borders. He must have known enough to keep me hidden, but he is the reason this is happening. His selfishness, his greed, his inability to be a parent. He will be the cause of my death tonight, and I’ll be damned if I don't come back and haunt him.
Without another word, he drags me past a silent Jeremiah and back into the trees, leaving the campsite behind. His hand is firm against my upper arm, his other hand holding the rope attached to my wrists, and I trip trying to match his quickened pace. The darkness envelopes us again as he pulls me deeper and deeper into the trees, the light from the fire all but gone.
“Are you going to kill me?” I whisper, tripping over invisible rocks, my feet slicing open against the rough ground. I wince with every forced step, my teeth digging into my bottom lip. He chuckles in response, sending a chill down my spine.
“Not yet.” We walk for a few more moments, narrowly darting tree trunks. It’s so dark I can barely make out the cloaked figure in front of me, much less any bushes or trees. He must spend a lot of time out here if he knows where we are going. He comes to a stop, and I glance around but see nothing besides the vague shapes of tree trunks.
