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The road was flat and even, easy walking for the beginning of a long journey. The sun dawned warm and bright with puffy white clouds flowing across the sky as the day went on. Dusk found the road to be mostly deserted. He had to move off only once when a covered wagon drawn by two horses showed in the distance. He crept through the edge of the forest, watching a small family with all their possessions move down the road at a slow pace. A man drove the cart and a woman sat next to him, cradling a baby against her bosom. Two small children sat on the back of the cart. Although they were far away, they seemed tense or frightened. He’d always imagined children would have more life in them, but this family seemed as if they were escaping from some unknown shadow on the horizon.
He waited for them to pass then made his way out of the woods. Every now and then he glanced over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being approached from the rear. As the sun came high overhead he stopped only briefly to pack his cloak away and take out a small portion of food. The previous days with Juniper’s full larder had brought life back to his body, but he knew it would be a while before he could find more to purchase with the few coins he had, so he wanted to make it last.
As he chewed thoughtfully, wondering what kinds of things were going on in the world, his ears caught a noise on the breeze that came over the small rise in front of him. It sounded like many voices. Instead of pushing forward to investigate, Dusk immediately stuffed the remaining bread in his mouth and darted off to the treeline that hugged the road. Once inside he began to slowly creep forward, making as little noise as possible since the road was a mere twenty feet away. The fallen leaves were damp and didn’t crackle under his feet, but the nearly nude trees offered little cover. Keeping low, he pressed forward, looking out to the road for the source of the voices.
As he came over the small rise he saw a group of men and darted behind a large oak tree, keeping his belly pressed against the bark. He could hear the men laughing and the muffled shouts of someone in distress. Daring to take a look, Dusk leaned around the tree, keeping his nose pressed to the damp bark. With one eye he watched the three figures, clad in similar furs to those that had attacked the wagon, hunched over something on the ground. Two of them kicked at it and laughed while the other rifled through a darkly tanned leather bag, tossing it’s contents out on the grass.
“The idiots always carry such nice things!” Dusk heard one call out, his bray-like laugh echoing afterwards. He was thickset and covered in a fawn colored fur cloak. The hair on top of his head was dark and patchy. “You should know better than to bring such nice things on these roads if you want to keep them.”
“Maybe we should take some of his hair, or one of his ears, as a trophy,” the thin one next to him hissed, his voice high and cracking. He looked to be much younger, a blue cloak thrown over one shoulder. His hands twitched and his head jerked from side to side constantly, like a nervous carrion bird over a carcass.
“What are we gonna do with an ear, Torbin? Why are you like this?”
“C’mon Rami, you’re no fun. Maybe just a tooth then? It would make a nice keepsake.”
“Found it!” the third called out, dropping the bag to the ground. He was a large, burly man. He had short black hair, huge arms, and a dominating look about him. The cloak draped over his shoulders was made entirely of black fur with a white diamond shape in the center. “And it’s a heavy one too. Grab his weapons and clothing, we’ll leave the rest for him if he ever gets out of those binds.”
Dusk still couldn’t make out what they were all gesturing to on the road, but it seemed it must be a person.
“Can I take a tooth Brand? Just one? I only need one to make a good earring.”
“Torbin, if we mutilate every person on the road no one will come through here anymore and then there won’t be anything to steal. Go get your sick satisfactions somewhere else.”
Brand kicked at Torbin and sent the thin man squawking towards the treeline. The remaining two gathered up a few items strewn about the grass and made their way towards the trees in Dusk’s direction. He snapped around, turning his back to the massive oak he was leaning against and held his breath. A quick glance showed no branches to clamber up and the men looked as if they would enter the trees within a few feet of him. He held perfectly still, pressed hard against the tree, wishing he could sink inside of it.
He heard the footfalls enter the forest, kicking up the wet leaf litter as they went. They came close on his left, breaking branches and dragging their feet. Slowly, without looking away from the three men, Dusk inched his way around the trunk, trying to get out of sight if they happened to turn around. Just as he slipped around the edge a single twig snapped under his boot.
“What was that?” Torbin cried.
“It’s nothing, let’s go,” Dusk heard Rami urge. “We gotta get back.”
“But... but what if it’s juicy? What if it’s crunchy.”
Dusk slid down the trunk of the tree, trying to shrink further out of sight than he already was.
“Torbin! C’mon! Brand said we have to go!”
The voices were getting closer. He heard a sword come free of its sheath.
“No. I have to know. Maybe it has lots of teeth I can use.”
The way Torbin savored the word felt like a cold wet tongue across his skin giving him goosebumps. Dusk held his breath, not daring to move as the footsteps got closer. He could almost hear the hissing breath of Torbin, thick with excitement, when the thundering sounds of heavy boots came rushing toward him. There was a sudden cry and the tree Dusk had his back against shuddered.
“I’ve told you once and I’ll not tell you again Torbin,” Brand’s deep baritone growled through gritted teeth. “You’ll follow my orders or you’ll be stuffed and hung from the rafters of The Break. Do you understand?”
There was another choking cry in response.
“Good.”
Brand grunted and Dusk heard the sound of a body striking the soft, wet earth. Slowly boots began to march away from the tree, back into the woods. Dusk heard what he presumed was Torbin lifting himself off the forest floor and dragging his feet after Brand. Leaning around the edge of the trunk, he poked his head out to watch them go. He froze as he saw Torbin smeared in mud, walking backwards, his cold black eyes fixed on the tree. Dusk snapped back around, not knowing if the thin man had seen him. He sat anxiously until the footsteps died away into the distance, before he dared to move.
Inching his way around the tree once more, Dusk stole a glance at the road. There, lying in the mud, was a man stripped of his clothes and tied with rope, what was left of his possessions strewn about him. Dusk watched as the man struggled, a piece of cloth stuffed in his mouth. He wanted to help the man, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Juniper had warned him to be wary of travelers on the road. For a moment he stood there contemplating, but eventually turned the opposite way to follow the road.
He walked no more than twenty paces before he stopped again, sighed, and turned back. There had been so many times he’d wanted to help his fellow man, but knew it would cost him his life. This time, if things went wrong, he could just run. The man lying in the road was no longer armed or even clothed for that matter. He posed very little threat to anyone. Besides, after the days with Juniper, Dusk was left with a longing for more human interaction. There were worse things he could do than help a man who had just been robbed.
The man’s back was turned to him as he came down the road. He looked to be young, no older than Dusk himself. His skin was lighter than any man he’d ever seen, like it had never seen the sun. Atop his head was blond hair caked with mud. As Dusk approached the man turned to look over his shoulder, and a muffled cry echoed through the fabric stuffed in his mouth. He tried to squirm backwards away from Dusk, a look of fear on his face. Dusk remembered the fur cloak draped over his satchel, making him look like one of the bandits.
“I’m not one of them,” he said calmly, pulling the dagger off his belt.
Another muffled cry.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
The man was still trying to wriggle away, his hands tied tightly behind his back and his legs bound down to the ankle. As Dusk knelt down next to him he could see the fear in the sea-blue eyes that looked at him. He tried to put on a gentle smile, something he wasn’t accustomed to doing.
“Hold still so I don’t cut you accidentally.”
The man stopped struggling, whether because he trusted the words or because he knew he couldn’t get away, Dusk wasn’t sure. He slid the knife carefully between the man’s back and his wrists, cutting the rope free. Then he cut the rope between the hands and they immediately flew to his mouth, tearing the fabric out so that he could speak.
“I don’t have anything else!” the man cried, pulling at the ropes on his legs. “Please leave me alone! I’m nothing more than a poor traveler!”
His accent was different than any Dusk had heard before. It sounded clean and punctuated. Dusk remained silent, but held the knife out, handle first, to the mud covered man. His eyes flicked back and forth between Dusk and the knife until his hand whipped out and took the knife from him. He began to saw at the ropes as Dusk sat on his haunches, watching the man work. As each binding came free he seemed to relax a bit more and by the time he cut the last one loose it seemed as if he had regained some of his composure. Reaching over he grabbed his leather bag and placed it over his waist. Turning back he tossed the knife in the air, catching it by the blade and handed it back to Dusk.
“Th–thank you,” he said sheepishly.
Dusk reached out to take the handle and the man’s eyes fell on the tattoos across his forearm. There was a look of realization on his face as he looked back up to him. Quickly Dusk put the blade back in his belt and stood up to leave.
“No wait!” the man called out. “I don’t have anything against your kind!”
Dusk stopped in his tracks, not sure if he should turn back.
“Who do you belong to?”
Without hesitation, Dusk replied, “To myself.”
“So you’re a runaway then...”
“I should be going.” Dusk took another step.
“No wait! I’m not going to turn you in! I’ve known many slaves in my life and they don’t bother me!”
The tone in his voice seemed genuine, but Dusk’s heart was pounding. He wanted to get away. He kept his feet still, listening to the blood pumping in his ears.
“What’s your name?”
“Dusk.”
“My friends call me Lex,” the man replied as Dusk heard him get to his feet. There was some squelching in the mud as he came around, still clutching the satchel in front of his groin. He stuck out a very muddy hand to shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dusk slowly reached out his hand, flinching away as Lex came forward to grab it, but he was too slow and Lex managed to grab the tips of his fingers in an awkward shake.
“Where are you headed, Dusk?”
“West. To the ocean.”
“That sounds like an excellent adventure. If you let me collect my things, I’ll join you. If you don’t mind, that is?”
Dusk nodded mechanically, taken aback by the sudden overwhelming enthusiasm in the man’s voice. He’d wanted more human interaction, but the idea of a traveling companion was more than he had bargained for. For a few moments he fought with himself, wondering if he should take off without Lex, but before he realized it, the man was standing next to him once more with trousers and boots on, although still covered in mud.
“They took most of my warm things,” he said, pulling a thin linen shirt over his head. “I’ll have to get another one in the next town I suppose.” He dug deep inside the satchel, stuffing his head almost completely in the bag as he searched. “Aha! They didn’t find my emergency stash! I thought for a moment they were going to take the whole bag, but thankfully those duffer’s brains aren’t as big as their biceps!”
He gave a hearty smile at Dusk, showing rows of white, well maintained teeth. Dusk nodded stiffly back, unsure of how to react. He turned and began to walk down the road, leaving Lex rummaging in his bag.
“Oh! We’re going! Okay!” Lex called, jogging to catch up. As soon as he was abreast to Dusk he began to speak again. “Do you think we have much chance of seeing more bandits on the road? I can’t say I’ve ever run into any before and I don’t think I’d like to again. You know they were pretty rough with me, but thankfully I’ve been trained in that sort of thing. If they hadn’t got the jump on me and taken my sword, I would have cut them to ribbons. They took my bow too... oh well I wasn’t a very good shot with it anyway. Swords are a much more elegant style of combat anyway, don’t you think?”
When Dusk didn’t respond Lex kept on talking.
“The sword they took from me was a gift from my father. It had my name on the sheath and everything. There was even an inscription carved on the blade, but I guess I’ll never see it again. They’ll probably sell it off to the first roadside merchant they find or use it for a roasting stick, the brutes! I suppose I can get another one of those in the next town too, but it won’t be as elegant as that one. Anyway, I guess I’ll get used to it one way or another!”
Dusk thought about the days he had with Juniper. Conversation had been abundant, but something about Juniper was soft and gentle. Unlike Lex who spoke like he’d never get another word in if he took a breath. Dusk tried to tune him out, but the tenor of his voice and the punctuated articulation of his speech seemed to cut through everything, drowning out the world around them. Reaching up a hand he rubbed his brow, wondering how he was going to deal with so much noise. But then, it stopped. Dusk turned to look at Lex who was staring at him.
“I said, am I bothering you?” he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.
“I–I’m new to this,” Dusk hesitated. “I’ve never heard so many words at once.”
“Father always tells me I talk too much,” Lex replied, hanging his head low and looking at the ground. “He says a man should be concise and that only women are so garrulous.”
“I don’t know what that word means,” Dusk said truthfully. “I don’t know much about talking.”
Lex looked back up, a small grin on his face. “It means talkative and that’s such an odd thing to say. Did you not have time to socialize where you were in service? The slaves always seemed to be gossiping at the manor.”
“No.”
“Well, maybe you can practice with me then.”
Dusk nodded, pulling a half smile to his face.
“I’ll try to be mindful until you’re more accustomed to it,” Lex nodded back.
Without a word Dusk kept moving forward with Lex at his side. Together they listened to the sound of the birds and the beat of their boots against the hard dirt path as they made their way to the west.