CHAPTER 81: BARBARIANS [1]

Aeron looked at the riders who surrounded him. At first, he couldn’t tell who they were, but when he looked closer at their rough clothes, strange marks, and weapons, he realized.

Nomads... he whispered to himself.

How could they be here? What were they doing on this plain? What did they want?

A thousand questions filled his mind, but there was no time for answers. Everything was happening too fast.

Aeron quickly grabbed his sword and took a stance. He knew he was surrounded, but he thought maybe, just maybe, he could fight them off.

The first man charged at him from the front. Clang! Clang! Aeron moved faster and struck harder. With the back of his sword, he hit the man down, leaving him unconscious.

Then more of them rushed at him. Aeron fought on the defense, stepping back, and blocking their strikes. He wasn’t trying to kill, only to hold them off, only to survive. But as the attacks became more fierce, he began to strike back.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

He hit another man and forced his sword away. Aeron caught it and raised both blades, ready to strike again. Then he swung at the next attacker and as he wanted to strike, he froze.

It wasn’t a man at all, it was a girl. A young, beautiful girl.

Aeron loosened his grip on his sword, pulled it away, and lowered it. His heart skipped. Slowly, he stepped back and dropped both weapons to the ground.

The nomads stopped too, lowering their blades. They closed in and circled him.

One of them stepped forward and spoke in a strange tongue that Aeron didn’t understand.

"What a language, well, I don’t understand you," Aeron said.

The man spoke again. Aeron stayed silent, looking at them all. He thought they understood him, but it seemed they didn’t. The nomads laughed among themselves. Then the man gave a signal.

Another nomad came forward, grabbed Aeron’s arms, twisted them behind his back, and tied them tight. Aeron didn’t fight it. He just let them.

They dragged him to their camp.

What Aeron saw there left him stunned. It wasn’t a small group. It was like a village. There were women and children gathered around fires, roasting meat. Some of the men ate raw flesh with their bare hands.

He saw prisoners too, bound like he was. The nomads danced and sang around them, shouting and rejoicing as if they had won a great prize.

Aren’t these barbarians...? Aeron thought.

They dragged Aeron through the camp as he glanced around, taking in everything. People stopped to watch him being pulled along. Some laughed at him, mocked him. Others made strange sounds in his face. A few spat as he passed. Aeron clenched his jaw but said nothing. He knew there was no point in reacting.

They led him to the largest hut in the camp, one that looked finer than the rest. It was built from stronger wood and covered in painted hides. One of the nomads went inside first. After a short while, he returned and yanked Aeron forward, pulling him in.

Inside, Aeron’s eyes fell on a massive man who looked like their chief. The man lay lazily on a bed, with two naked women at his side. The moment Aeron stepped in, the women stood, glanced at him, and quickly left the hut.

The chief slowly stood and looked at Aeron. His body was thick with muscle, and his skin was marked with scars and tattoos. He pulled a heavy cloak across his shoulders and kept staring at Aeron.

The man who had dragged Aeron in spoke to the chief in their own language. Aeron couldn’t understand a word. The chief replied in the same tongue, and for a few moments they exchanged sentences. Aeron stood still and moved his eyes from one to the other, but he could only guess what they were saying.

Finally, the man grabbed Aeron again and pulled him outside. They walked past the crowd, past the noisy center of the camp, until they reached the back where a row of small huts stood in a line. These ones were different, dull, and had strong locks.

When one was opened, Aeron saw it was no hut at all but a dungeon cell. The man shoved him inside roughly and locked the door behind him.

Aeron looked around. The walls were packed mud, and the floor was hard and very cold. It smelled of sweat and decay. So these people even keep cages, he thought.

"Hey!" Aeron called out as the guard walked away. He stepped close to the small hole in the door, but the man did not turn back. Aeron was left alone in the dark prison cell. He sighed as he touched the muddy walls of the cell.

What am I doing here, locked up like this? When I could break out any time I wanted. No one could stop me.

But then another thought struck him. If I leave now, I learn nothing. I need to know who these people are, what they want, and why they are here.

He turned back to the door. He rattled it on purpose, shaking it hard, and making as much noise as he could. "Hey! Open this place!" he shouted loudly.

For a moment, there was no answer. Then, from the next cell, a voice spoke.

"Instead of wasting your strength making noise, why don’t you just burn the door down and leave, if that’s what you want so badly?"

Aeron froze. His heart skipped. He knew that voice.

He stepped closer to the wall to his right, trying to see through, but the thick mud blocked his sight. His voice shook as he spoke. "Who’s there?"

The voice answered. "I should be the one asking questions. How did you even manage to end up here in the first place and get yourself locked up?"

Aeron opened his eyes wide.. He knew for certain now.

"...N..Nyella? Is that you?" He said.