THEY CRASHED through the dense underbrush, quickly putting distance between them and the river. Branches whipped against Hunter’s near naked body, and stones jabbed into the tender skin of the bottom of his feet. Dax, fully nude except for the strap of his leather pack over his shoulder, trudged heedless through the thicket ahead of him, the soft white of his ass directing Hunter along like a lighthouse beacon.
“I thought you said we were safe?” Hunter grumbled.
“Not from arrows,” Dax replied sourly. “Or sorcery. They are being more tenacious than I would have predicted.”
They stumbled upon a trail shortly after. It was little more than a thin brown line that wove through the trees, but it was enough to allow them to double their pace, and Hunter’s bare feet were thankful for the relief. The trail snaked up a rocky incline. Toward the top of the rise, Dax slowed to a stop.
“We should be well beyond their range now,” he said as took the sack from Hunter. He pulled out pieces of his gear and dropped them on the path. “And they will not dare enter our borders.” He sorted through the garments and began to pull them on. Hunter tugged his clothes on too, all the while chiding himself that he was disappointed Dax was covered once more.
“I’ll hunt for something to eat,” Dax added. “There’s a flint kit in the sack you’re carrying. You know how to use one, I trust?”
“Of course,” Hunter said, as if it was ridiculous question. He had no idea how to start a fire without a lighter, but he didn’t want to add any more to Dax’s growing list of his incompetencies.
“Good.” Dax tossed the sack over to Hunter. “Get started. I shouldn’t be long,” he said as he stepped into his pants and tightened the laces in front. “I’ll—”
He stopped.
Sounds came from the forest around them. Movement. Dax sprang for his knife as shapes emerged from the foliage around them. Kug’ra. Five of them stepped from the trees to surround them. Instead of the clubs from before, each bore a long curved blade of iron in their meaty grip, and they grinned in triumph as they tightened their circle around them. Hunter brought up his mace and tried to look tough, but his hands betrayed him by quaking. He was still in his underwear.
A sixth figure glided out of the trees, like a ghost taking on solid form. Hunter recognized him as the same Heneran that pursued them the night before. The branches were undisturbed as he stepped closer. His dark eyes shifted from Dax to Hunter with an expression of cold hate and ruthlessness. Up close, he was even more chilling with his sheet of black hair and flawless alabaster skin. The rust-colored horns twisting from his temple were somehow both grotesque and beautiful. Hunter could not break his gaze.
A sharp pain sparked between Hunter’s shoulder blades. While spellbound by the strange creature’s appearance, one of the kug’ra had moved behind him and positioned the point of its blade into his back. It moved with surprising speed for a creature its size. The kug’ra kicked him behind the legs and Hunter dropped to his knees.
“Drop it,” the Kug’ra growled, its mouth seeming to struggle to form the sounds. Hunter hesitated until the point pressed harder into his flesh. Clenching his jaw, he released his grip on the mace.
Another did the same to Dax, kicking him roughly to ground. Dax tossed the knife out in front of him. A third creature looped around and kicked the weapons out of their reach.
“Do you not have the courage to face us in person, fiend?” Dax hissed.
Hunter threw a questioning look at Dax. What was he talking about?
The Heneran’s mouth lifted a fraction in a cold and haughty sneer as he fingered a strange crystalline pendant around his neck. It glowed with a deep blue from within. “My servants do not need my presence to slice your throat. Only my blessing.”
“This is bold, even for one of you,” Dax replied. His voice had a forced calm about it. His eyes were shifting, surveying the scene. Hunter could tell he was waiting for the opportunity to lunge for his knife. Hunter’s heart pounded against his sternum. Dax was going to get them both slaughtered. “Sending your slaves into our lands? A violation of the treaty—”
“So sanctimonious,” the Heneran purred. “Coming from the vermin that violated the treaty first. We are simply executing our right to dispense justice for the crime committed against us.”
Hunter studied the Heneran more closely. There was a strange translucency about him, an unreal quality that he hadn’t noticed at first. Somehow, Dax had spotted it straight away. This was some form of illusion. More magic.
The Heneran might not be real, but the sword poking into his back certainly was.
“Your justice has no jurisdiction here,” Dax said.
“Yet, oddly, there are no patrols to prevent it.”
Something changed on Dax’s face, a realization that gave him pause.
“Splitting your company up will not save any of you,” the Heneran continued. “We have several search parties in the area and will hunt down all of the agents involved. You will simply be the first to learn how we deal with spies. But we will find the others too.”
Anger darkened Dax’s eyes. “This is an invasion. You’ll regret it.”
“I will regret nothing.” The Heneran wove his arms together like two intertwining snakes. “How you die today will depend very much on how you answer my questions. Why were you in our lands?”
Dax shrugged. “We took a wrong turn. Innocent mistake.”
A kug’ra kicked Dax in the gut. With a heavy grunt, Dax collapsed onto his side and pulled himself into a ball. The Heneran swung his cold attention over to Hunter with a single raised brow.
Hunter held up his hands. “Don’t look at me. I’m new here. I have no idea what’s going on.”
The self-assured smirk faltered. “Very well. If you prefer to toy with me and waste my time, I am compelled to demonstrate my determination.”
With a subtle look and tilt of his head, the Heneran signaled something to his minions. A beast pinned Dax to the ground by stepping on him, while a second held the tip of the blade against his throat. The other three kug’ra converged around Hunter.
“One of you will talk,” the Heneran said. “Eventually. You need proper motivation, is all. Let’s start with the big one. Remove his hands.”
Hunter’s insides went hollow and cold. He flinched to pull himself away, but the beasts were on him. They forced him down onto his belly. He twisted and tried to pull away, but for all his strength, he was no match for theirs. A knee was shoved into the small of his back, pressing him to the dirt. He tried to pull air into his lungs, but the weight on him only allowed quick and insufficient gasps. Panic gripped him, adding desperation to his struggle, but he couldn’t move. A kug’ra grabbed his flailing arm and forced it out and on the ground.
“No!” Hunter cried out. He tried to wiggle himself free, kicking his legs and shifting his arm. But their viselike hold on him would not give.
He looked up to the see the kug’ra step forward with the blade, ready to bring it down onto his arm.
“Wait,” Dax called out. “Wait. I will talk.”
Talk? About what? The Heneran was clearly convinced their presence was some kind of clandestine plot. Hunter knew he would never believe the actual truth.
The Heneran chuckled. “I know you will. That was never in question. But I tend to err on the side of caution. You may still require some encouragement to not waste any more of my time. Do it.”
Frantic, Hunter fought harder, putting all his strength into the struggle to free himself. But he was pinned. Helpless.
He closed his eyes. His heart hammered, and his head was dizzy with disbelief. Bile chewed at the back of his throat. All he could do was wait for the moment to come. Wait for the pain.