Chapter Five: The Capture

THE GREAT DEVASTATION (working title)

They shuffled forward, legs bound together, limiting the possibility of escape. Dàleth’s stomach growled loudly and he was reminded that he had not eaten since he was captured. Even that meal had been interrupted by the arrival of five strangers. The couple had grown lax as of late. In the earlier years they would be constantly vigilant at their camp for sounds or signs of intruders but yesterday they had been sitting around the fire, engrossed in a conversation over breakfast about their children, and had been surprised by the attack.

Their attackers, all over 1.8 metres tall, each wore a dark brown leather vest over a black t-shirt tucked into jeans and on their left arms a green bandana. Two men had approached first, only a few metres in front of them when the couple noticed them. One was a skinny man with pasty white skin and blonde, almost white, hair. From a distance he could have passed for an albino. The second man who was of Polynesian descent had a shaved head and an average build.

“Don’t make this hard on yourselves. Come with us. You are prisoners of the Goblins”, said the bald man.

Dàleth stood up, massaging the palm of his left hand threateningly with the thumb of his right and smiled. “The Goblins, what kinda’ name is that?” he asked, nodding his head toward the bald man.

“Soon everyone will know our name. Our time to rule has come”, responded the Albino in a way that made Dàleth believe that this was a very real possibility.

“Alright, let me get my cloak.” Dàleth turned back towards their tent.

Hoping to surprise their attackers, Sāmekh, who had stood up during the conversation, threw her breakfast plate like a discus at the Albino, smacking him in the eye and burning him with the hot food. She dove for her dagger which she kept in her shoulder bag at the entrance of the tent.
“You slut!”

The Albino recovered quickly, grabbed her arm and yanked Sāmekh away from the tent before she could reach the weapon. He brought his arm back, hand clenched in a fist, to strike her.

A glint of steel flashed in the morning light as Dàleth pulled out his sword, which he always kept within arms reach, and in a fluid motion the cold blade was pressed against the throat of the Albino, causing a small rivulet of blood to run down his neck and begin to coalesce in a dark stain on the collar of his black shirt. The man stared at Dàleth with a maniacal grin, though he lowered his raised hand.

“Let her go, NOW!”

The bald Polynesian, who had backed away while this exchange took place, now looked over his shoulder.

Two more men emerged from the bush. One had red hair like Dàleth’s, though cropped short. This man aimed a rifle at Sāmekh’s chest. The other, a massive dark haired moustachioed man with an olive complexion, stood with his arms on his hips and a snarl on his lips, his black eyes glaring out beneath a bushy unibrow.

“Put away your sword, or I’ll blow a whole in your woman’s chest”, the red head demanded.

“How ‘bout you put away your gun and I’ll let this man live?”, Dàleth said, the steel of his sword biting deeper into the man’s white flesh, causing crimson to flow more freely down his neck and along the blade towards Dàleth’s calloused hands. The man still stared at Dàleth unflinching. Dàleth knew he was endangering his love’s life but hoped that this gamble might buy their freedom.

“We would all willingly sacrifice our lives for the good of the Goblins. One death will not stop us. This is your second and last chance to save the life of your wench.” He cocked the gun and stabbed it forward to impress his point.

“Alright, relax, I’m putting it down”

Dàleth slowly pulled the blade away from his captive, consequently making a captive of himself. He dropped the sword to the ground. Once disarmed, the Albino turned and drove his fist into the side of Dàleth’s head. Dàleth recoiled from the blow but steadied himself and glared at the man.

The bald Polynesian approached Dàleth cautiously with a rope and, while the redhead kept the gun trained on their captive, he bound his hands. Only then did the Albino exact his revenge upon Sāmekh.

“You will learn respect for your conquerors!”

He grabbed her by a handful of hair on the back of her head and pulled her face towards him. Sāmekh, expecting a rough unwanted kiss, was surprised when, instead, he smashed his forehead into the bridge of her nose. Blood poured down her face and her eyes rolled back in her head. He let her collapse to the ground unconscious.

Dàleth cried out, an animal roar, and struggled with his bonds to free himself but was held back by the bald Polynesian and the huge olive skinned man.

“You stupid half-wit! Now how you gonna get her back to the camp?” yelled the red head.

“I’m sure Dante will help me carry her”, responded the Albino, while he wiped Sāmekh’s blood off his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked over to the massive man who held Dàleth.

Dante nodded his head, “Sure”, he said in a deep voice.

Sāmekh was tied up and thrown over one of Dante’s huge shoulders. After quickly filling their bags with canned food from the families’ cache, the Albino and the bald Polynesian pushed Dàleth forward in a march.

Just as they left the Dobro camp, a woman dressed the same as her male companions, joined them. She was as tall as her male companions as well and only outsized by Dante. Her blond hair was clumped together in dreadlocks tied back from her face.

“I found the body of Yuri over the hill there with an arrow through his eye.” She held up his bandana. “I searched around and called out but I couldn’t find his brothers. It’s like Sasha and Pyotr were swallowed up by the earth.”

“There must be more of them living in these hills. Someone must have shot that arrow. When we return to the camp, we’ll tell the Lieutenant, and I imagine another party we’ll be sent out to search the area”, she added.

Dàleth worried about his children. Though if his hunch was correct, that arrow would have been shot by his daughter, and that was a clear demonstration that they could take care of themselves.

As they walked, his anger simmered watching his wife’s head bounce against the back of the lumbering giant Dante. The sight of the Albino gingerly rubbing the cut on his neck and the burn and blue-black bruising on the left side of his face did nothing to satisfy his growing rage. He knew that there would be no regrets in how much pain he caused this man when the opportunity for escape presented itself.

They walked all day and, although their captors ate snacks that they carried, the captives had nothing to eat. As night fell, a hard rain began and the wind howled as they entered the tent city where they were presently held.

They were tied by a long rope around their ankles to four other prisoners who had arrived in the camp with another raiding party at about the same time. They were left to the elements, as the ground turned to mud, while their captors slept soundly in their tents. Guards with rifles hiding from the downpour under tarps ensured there would be no escape tonight. Captivity made strange bedfellows and the sextet of prisoners huddled together for the night to keep warm.