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“It looks like a lot of somebodies,” the leader snarled.
😂 Hilarious line. 😂
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
Oh drat.
That’s a bother.
Well I guess if you don’t reply within the hour, (which is what you normally seem to do) then I’ll tag you again.
Wow. That escalated quickly!
Yes. Yes it did.
Seems like things are about to get rough for Leon and Rolf… 🥺
😈
Why wouldn’t the slave trader just kill them instead of tying them up and everything?
Because, my dear, that would have been far to merciful.
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
Yay!! You caught up!
I feel like at least one of the other characters should be saying something here. I just listened to N.D.Wilson on dialogue…and it felt to me that the other people weren’t even there as just those two kept talking.
Ack. I KNEW it! Ugh. I didn’t want to admit it, but I new it needed it.
Where did those slaves come from? Are they people of the Empire?
Nooo….. they are brought in by the traders. People of the Empire are NEVER sold as slaves. The provide one of the biggest markets for the traders, and in turn they are left alone. They are also left alone because they have the largest military in the known world and they are known for lashing back when offended.
From what I’ve seen and experienced, writing with a quill always needs an inkstand…
Well there was obviously one on the desk if Leon left the quill and paper there just after writing. I felt like it didn’t need to be stated so many times.
Does it need to?
Aelic’s probably used to running around the forests…I could just see him bare-footed, dashing among the trees with his hair flying about!
Dashing about? Yes. Barefoot? Maybe not….. those woods are a little dangerous and they are part way up a mountian.
But yes, he is very athletic and sure-footed.
😂 Hilarious line. 😂
Haha! I’m glad someone else thought so too and it wasn’t just me. 😂
So, any over all thoughts?
I mean, Leon and Rolf just got captured. (two times in a row!) and things have changed in the town they were just in, and we have the whole white knight business.
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
@linus-smallprint @liberty @hybridlore @koshka @elishavet-pidyon @keilah-h
NEXT SECTION!!!
(If I was Freedom I’d be posting trigger warnings. But y’all have been amply warned.)Leon woke the next morning to find one of the men cutting the ropes that bound his wrists. One arm came free, and Leon gasped from the pain that ripped through his shoulder as his arm dropped limply to his side.
Against his best efforts he had slept, and the pain was more then he could have imagined.
When his other arm was cut loose, he collapsed to his knees, clenching his teeth against the pain in his shoulders and trying to rub feeling into his numb wrists without moving his arms.
He heard Rolf’s low cry of pain and glanced behind him to see his friend lying on the ground on the other side of the tree. Two men grabbed Leon and pulled him to his feet. His legs buckled and he drooped in the hold of his captors. One of them stuck him across the back of the head and they forced him to walk. He glanced back to see Rolf stumbling after him, his face pale and drawn with pain.
They were jerked to a stop near where the men were saddling up and swinging onto the backs of their horses. A few of were on foot, presumably the former guards of the slaves.
The leader of the slave traders turned and sneered down from his horse at the two. “Are you afraid yet of what I can do?”
Rolf looked wearily up at him. “I know that whatever you do, God is with me. He will lead me through the valley of the shadow.”
The slave trader laughed mockingly. “There is only one god you need to worry about, and that is me: Hassan Salim. I am your god, and you will learn to fear me very soon. Yes, soon death will be a reward, not a punishment.”
“You are no god of mine,” Rolf retorted.
Hassan struck him across the face with his horse whip. Rolf bent, gasping from the pain, his hand pressed to his face.
“You will soon learn to speak to me as you ought,” Hassan snarled. He looked down at Leon. “You spoke so loudly and forcefully in Wiedlisbourg. Have you lost your voice?”
“No,” Leon replied, looking steadily at him.
“Are you as foolish as your friend in clinging to hope in this God of yours?” asked Hassan.
“The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear?” Leon replied.
“I will soon teach you both whom to fear,” Hassan snarled. He turned to the men holding the two captives. “Tie them to the horses.”
Two long coils of rope were fetched, and Leon and Rolf’s hands were bound in front of them. The ropes were pulled so tight that tears of pain stung the captives’ eyes. The other ends of the ropes were tied to the saddlebows of two of the horses’ saddles. The riders mounted and Hassan whipped up his house. His men followed, starting their horses so quickly that Leon and Rolf were nearly jerked off their feet. They stumbled to regain their footing and set into a steady pace, preparing themselves for a long and weary day.
The sun rose and the traders road at a quick pace, alternating from a fast trot to a canter and back again. Every two hours, the men on foot traded with those on horseback, except for Hassan, who remained in the saddle the whole time.
The men traded places without stopping their horses, and they did it with spread and efficiency. When the company slowed to a trot, the rider would swing both legs over the side of the horse and hold the saddle, hanging a few moments. Then he would lower his foot in unison with the horse’s steps and begin to run alongside it. Once he got his footing he would run little ahead and to the other side of the road to be out of the way of the footmen, who came to the horse’s side, grabbed the saddle, ran a few paces and jumped on. All this time, the horses continued in a straight line, single file, never making a mistake in the timing and speed of their gait.
The horses and their riders were both very well trained, and Leon couldn’t help but wonder what their military was like. Soon enough, however, he couldn’t worry about anything but keeping his footing.
The day wore on, and the riders stopped at noon to rest and water their horses. Leon and Rolf were untied from the horses, and their hands were lashed behind them. The men refilled their water skins and ate some of the food they had packed. They offered none to the prisoners. Leon’s lips were already dry and cracking, and he could hardly swallow due to the dryness of his mouth and throat. He tried to ignore the sound coming from the stream just a few paces away.
It seemed mere moments before Hassan and his men were back up and ready to leave. The two captives were tied to the horses once again, and the journey continued.
It didn’t take long for the men to become bored, and they began employing themselves in tormenting their captives–– something Hassan looked upon with approval.
It started with the riders suddenly changing the gate of their horses to cause the two captives to scramble to keep their feet. Next, the footmen got involved. They began to stick their boots out in order to trip the captives. Leon and Rolf were both agile, but they were becoming completely exhausted.
They dodged and stepped over the obstacles several times, but they could hardly keep up with the horses as it was.
Rolf was the first to go down.
Tripping over the boot of one of his captors he fell. Without his arms for balance and help in landing, he fell hard, his breath knocked from him. He was dragged a few paces before finally staggering to his feet again.
Leon, who was behind, saw it all, and he watched closer for one of the men to trip him.
The sun was getting low, and the horses still went on and on. Leon felt like he couldn’t breathe. He was tasting dust, breathing dust, covered in dust. He could barely push himself to keep going. The only reason he didn’t collapse was the fear of being dragged and never regaining his feet.
Despite his best efforts, he was too weary to continue the trek and dodging the men. One of them managed to trip him and down he went.
The rope jerked taught and yanked dreadfully on his shoulders as it drew tight about his wrists. Leon struggled to regain his footing, and nearly succeed, but was jerked forward and fell again. Coughing in the dust, he tried to get a breath. God help me!
Leon gathered all his strength and staggered up. The moment he was on his feet the men urged their horses faster and Leon almost had to run to keep up.
As the twilight set in, the men slowed their horses to a stop and dismounted to make camp. Leon and Rolf collapsed and lay still, gasping for breath and not caring what happened so long as they didn’t have to walk any farther. Two of the men came to Leon and cut him free of the horse.
Leon remained where he was, the road dust stinging his raw and bleeding wrists.
One of the men kicked him in the back and ordered him to stand. Leon couldn’t even bring his arms up to shield his head, let alone stand. He didn’t care what they did to him; he just couldn’t stand.
The men grabbed him and yanked him to his feet, but his legs buckled, and they were forced to drag him.
Leon looked up and nearly cried out in dismay. They were dragging him toward one of the small sturdy trees that grew along the road among the rocks. He had always loved the beauty and majesty of trees, but right now he wished they didn’t exist.
The men forced him to his feet and dragged his arms up and apart, lashing them to the branches.
The ropes bit into his bloodied wrists and his shoulders shot stabbing bolts of pain through him. Leon forced himself to stand; he couldn’t go through another day of the pain that had come as a result of sleeping.
He looked up just enough to see them dragging Rolf over to share his fate.
When Rolf realized the men’s intentions, his eyes filled with despair. “Please,” he said, his voice a cracked whisper from lack of water. “Please don’t.”
The men only laughed and one stuck him. Rolf was forced to his feet and slammed against the tree where he was bond. Then, the men left them and walked to where their companions were starting a fire not far off.
Leon closed his eyes and struggled for air. Each breath stung his dry throat and mouth, and he longed for water. He wondered how long he could survive such cruelty.
Behind him, Rolf spoke in a cracked voice. “Leon… if this continues I… I don’t think I’ll survive tomorrow. I can’t go through another day of that. I might not even make it through this night.”
“I know,” Leon replied, his breath rasping in his throat. “I don’t know what’s worse; sleeping tonight in this position or being dragged tomorrow because we have no strength.”
“I doubt sleep will give us any strength,” Rolf whispered. Leon heard him struggling for deep breath. Then Rolf spoke softly; “I wish I could have seen them one last time…”
***
Leon woke when he hit the ground. He lay still and wondered where he was and what was happening. Someone kicked him hard in the side and he cried out, choking for breath. His throat was on fire, and it hurt to breathe. He was so, so tired and he just wanted to lay there. Rough hands grabbed his arm and dragged him up.
Leon gasped as pain tore through his shoulders and back. He was dragged over to where the men were mounting their horses. Oh God not again! Please not again!
He stood still, his head low, as the men bound his wrists tightly. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rolf trying to keep his footing. He looked like he would pass out any moment.
Hassan looked over his men and then gave a sharp whistle. The men spurred their horses forward and the long trek began again.
After the two captives were tripped and dragged multiple times, Hassan called his men off for the sake of time, and Leon and Rolf forced all their strength into taking one step after another.
Around midday they came in sight of the sea and the town of Clonabay. That tall masts of ships made a forest in the harbor and small fishing boats moved about in the bay. Leon squinted slightly at the light from the sun reflecting off the water. He longed to stand there and take in the beauty. It had been so many years since he saw the ocean. But there was no time for that.
The company descended the hill and came to a stop by a stream for their meal. One of Hassan’s men tied the ropes the two captives were bound with to the trunk of a tree growing near the stream. Then he left to help prepare the midday meal. Leon dragged himself toward the stream, but the rope was just too short to allow him to reach it. He saw Rolf was in the same plight.
Gathering the last of their strength, the two young men fought with the ropes that bound them, but to no avail.
Leon collapsed, too exhausted to struggle any more. Nearby, he saw Rolf lying on his side, his shoulders jerking with silent, tearless sobs. Leon couldn’t blame him.
Hassan’s cruel laughter floated through the air from where the men sat eating, and Leon closed his eyes tightly, wishing it would all just come to an end. The sound of the trickling water nearly drove him mad, and he tried not to think of the way it would sooth his dry throat and mouth.
Leon didn’t know if he passed out, but the next thing he knew he was being roughly pulled into a sitting position, and someone was pressing a water-skin against his teeth.
Leon eagerly drank the water, not caring who the person was. His military training told him to drink slowly, but he was almost wild with thirst.
The water was snatched away and Leon gasped for breath. “No,” he whispered hoarsely, opening his eyes and reaching with his bound hands.
One of Hassan’s men struck him across the back of the head and moved away. Leon could see two of the traders letting Rolf drink, and he guessed they were only doing it to keep them alive. He didn’t care what for, so long as he could have the water.
The men pulled the two captives to their feet and retied them to the horses’ saddlebows. Hassan and several of his men mounted, and the company set off for Clonabay. They arrived within two hours and passed through the gates and into the town. The men were forced to ride slower because of the crowds, and Leon and Rolf were exceedingly grateful.
They looked about at the people hurrying here and there, and Leon’s heart ached for freedom to speak to them about the loving Savior who waited for each one of them.
Neither Leon or Rolf had ever seen so many different people in their lives, nor heard so many languages. Apparently, the traders who had captured them spoke the common tongue that Vendailia, Ardenta, and the Empire shared, but many of the travelers did not.
There were so many colors and styles of clothing and so many things to see. For a moment the two almost forgot they were captives as they stared about them in wonder.
They were led to the docks, and here the noise and activity was increased nearly tenfold. Sailors of many tongues and nations yelled to one another as they unloaded and loaded cargo, secured ships, and organized their supplies. Some people came to watch while the travelers went about their business or stood opened mouthed to look at the new country.
Hassan came to a stop and began to speak with a tanned sailor. The man nodded and looked at Leon and Rolf, a chilling grin on his face. He said something else to Hassan, who nodded and dismounted.
Several of Hassan’s men boarded the nearest ship, while Hassan and two others went to talk to another man, apparently an acquaintance of theirs. The man’s expression darkened, and when Hassan gestured to Leon and Rolf, he glared at them.
Soon he walked away and began talking to another man, who in turn looked darkly toward the two captives.
Leon felt apprehension crawl up his back, and he glanced at Rolf, who was watching the men with worried eyes. “What are they saying?” he whispered.
Leon shrugged, wishing he knew.
The first trader turned and walked their way, and Leon stepped closer to Rolf. The man paused. “I hear you two are responsible for ruining our livelihood,” he hissed in a low tone. “The only reason I don’t cut your throats and throw you into the harbor is because you are Hassan’s captives, and if you belong to him, then that death is far to merciful. I know he will see to it that you pay for what you have done.” With that he turned and strode away back to his ship, yelling at one of the sailors.
Leon shuddered and glanced at Rolf from the corner of is eye.
Leon and Rolf were untied from the saddles by one of Hassan’s sailors and roughly dragged on board the large ship in front of them. The two were taken across the deck and thrown down into the hold. As the hatch banged above them, darkness fell only broken by shafts of light that slipped through the planking above.
Leon looked at Rolf but said nothing.
At last, Rolf broke the silence. “Where will they take us?”
“I don’t know. I think these men are from Ararveh… at least, that is what their accents, clothing and weapons lead me to think,” Leon replied, hoarsely.
“How will they get out of the harbor? Surly the soldiers won’t let them through with captives from the Empire,” Rolf said in a broken whisper. “Don’t these men know the vengeance that will be wrecked upon them if they’re caught?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps even now God is readying the soldiers to save us,” Leon replied hopefully.
Rolf leaned against the side of the hold and closed his eyes. “I hope they come soon.”
Neither of the two captives knew how long they waited in the ship’s hold, but they both started when they heard the voices of men from the Empire.
They listened breathlessly to the tramp of boots and voices above them. The hatch was flung open, and two sailors dropped down into the hold. They pulled Leon and Julian up on deck and the two looked eagerly at the Imperial soldier in the uniform of the border patrol. “This are the two?” he asked.
“Yes,” Hassan. replied
Leon looked to the soldier. “Please sir, we were taken captive by these men while on––” One of the sailors struck him.
“Sir you have to save us, they’ve captured us,” Rolf pleaded.
The soldier turned away from them and looked back at Hassan.
“Sir you can’t leave us to them! We are sons of the Empire, and I was a lieutenant in the army! You can’t let them take us!” Leon yelled, his voice rasping with dryness.
The soldier motioned him to silence and looked back at Hassan. “Are these the only ones?”
“Yes,” Hassan replied, with a slight bow.
The soldier nodded and Hassan smiled. “For your most excellent services,” he said, holding out a leather bag that clinked when the soldier took it.
“You are cleared to leave,” the soldier said.
“No!” Leon cried, desperately. He fought against the sailors who held him, but to no avail. His strength failed him, and he collapsed to his knees on the deck. “Sir, please!” he begged, looking up at the soldier. “You can’t do this!”
“I have a family!” Rolf pleaded. “Don’t let them take us away! Don’t let them kill us! We’ve done nothing wrong!”
The soldier stared at them for a long moment, weighing the coins in his hand. He darted a glance at Hassan who stood with his arms loosely crossed over his chest. A picture of pure calm.
The soldier looked back at Leon and Rolf. Then he quickly turned his back on them and walked slowly away. He paused and looked back at the two young men, then redoubled his pace and hurried down the gangway.
Leon and Rolf were flung back down into the hold, and the hatch closed down over top of them. Leon slammed his fists into the wood, trying to break free, but all he did was bloody his knuckles.
Exhausted, he slid to his knees and wept.
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
Yikes. This is not looking good.
So Hassan paid the soldiers to look the other way?
The KP WITNESS PROTECTION has been initiated to protect characters from their authors. Beware.
So Hassan paid the soldiers to look the other way?
Yup. He sure did.
Goodbye Leon and Rolf.
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
Goodbye Leon and Rolf.
😳😳
The KP WITNESS PROTECTION has been initiated to protect characters from their authors. Beware.
what?
why’re you lookin at me like that?
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
This calls for a new squad! Not the protection squad, because if I did that you would try to steal my characters.
The CHARACTER WITNESS PROTECTION!!!
*promptly rescues Leon and Rolf, gives them new identities so they can hide from you and they disappear into the city*
The KP WITNESS PROTECTION has been initiated to protect characters from their authors. Beware.
Oh is that how this is gonna go?
*straps on several guns and bolts. Snatches Alec and slams him against the wall.*
GIVE THEM BACK OR I’LL DO THE WORST!!!
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
Alec is halfway across the world, Ellette.
Actually they’re not even on the same planet, right?You can’t seriously believe that you’re holding him against the wall right now. That’s just some poor civilian, or maybe one of the bad guys, (in which case you can keep him there.)Just put the gun down, and no one’s going to get hurt.
😝
The KP WITNESS PROTECTION has been initiated to protect characters from their authors. Beware.
WELL LEON AND ROLF ARE IN A DIFFERENT TIME PERIOD IN A COUNTRY I CREATED!! (who let you in there anyhow?)
Obviously, you have got the wrong guys. So, I guess everything is fine. You may keep them and I’ll keep fake Alec.
No half-heartedness and no worldly fear must turn us aside from following the light unflinchingly.
Nooo….. they are brought in by the traders. People of the Empire are NEVER sold as slaves
Maybe saying something about that, then? I wasn’t sure if the people were a different people group. I would think they look different than Aryan..because that’s what the People of the Empire are.
Does it need to?
I think it may be good to mention briefly.
So, any over all thoughts?
Well, it’s getting very interesting. I literally groaned every time something bad happened to the guys…Roland twisting his foot…Rolf nearly getting his throat slit…
Have you thought about changing either Roland’s or Rolf’s name? I just read something about having characters with the same letter of the name. Of course, we do that…but I kept getting them mixed up since their names are so similar. The article was saying that if they have the same letter and sound about the same, and people are getting them mixed up, it would be good to change the names.
I’ve even been thinking of changing the names of some characters in my Guy story.
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
I seem to recall it was you who invited me here. 🧐 XD
Poor fake Alec. At least fake Leon and Rolf get their freedom. 🤣
The KP WITNESS PROTECTION has been initiated to protect characters from their authors. Beware.
“There is only one god you need to worry about, and that is me: Hassan Salim.
You’ve got to be joking. Hassan is my father’s name…only it’s written with one “s”: Hasan.
"He who never quotes will never be quoted." ~Charles Spurgeon
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