Alliance

Chapter Thirty-Five

She was gone.

And he watched that man take her. That man looked like a grizzly bear with his greying brown, wild hair with a matching beard. Somehow he felt like he failed her.

He had failed her.

Just like how he had failed his mentor all those months ago.

The caravan continued on and he tried to get his hands out of the shackles to run after her but they were too tight. There was no possible way that he could get out without a key.

A plan, he needed a plan.

But no plan came to him. His back ached from the fall Ewan inflicted. Some of the lashes had opened again, trickles of blood itched down his back.

Maybe when the food came he could overtake the food boy, but the boy didn't wear keys. He knew that because he checked the first time the boy came by.

Movement out of the corner of his eyes drew Ben attention to the east. A figured walked toward the caravan. The stranger walked unhurriedly, almost lazily toward the head of the caravan as if he was enjoying a sunny Sunday walk. The caravan stopped when the stranger met the front. The slaves again were called to the left side as before.

Ben watched Clark, Ewan, and the stranger walk down the line of slaves. Maybe now he could overtake them. But as they got closer, more of Clark's men neared. They expected him to do something.

The trio stopped before Ben. "This one is difficult. He is strong and able. We are trying to break him and make him suitable for service."

The stranger had short greying hair. His eyes lively, face kind. So unlike the monster who took her.

"I want him," the stranger said.

Clark sighed heavily, "Did you not hear me? He is unsuitable still. He just lost his lady friend about three hours ago, he most likely will kill you and go after her."

The man turned to Clark and gave him a sum. A rather high sum. Not as high as hers but still high enough that Clark gave a little nod. "Fine. If you die, do not blame me. Ewan."

Ewan stepped toward him and put new shackles on before taking off the ones that were attached to the wagon.

The stranger grabbed Ben's arm and walked several feet away from the caravan before stopping. They watched the caravan slowly march down the road. When it was far enough away the stranger turned to him.

"Now listen," the stranger said. To his surprise, the stranger removed his shackles. His fingers itched to knock out the stranger so he could get to her. "We need to work together if we are going to get her back. You need to trust me, Prince Benedict Roth."

I woke slowly, doing an inventory of my body as I slowly stirred awake. My body didn't hurt anywhere. The only sore spot was in my neck where the needle was shoved into my skin.

Okay. No missing limbs or fingers. I was off to a good start.

Opening my eyes, I took in the large round lamp above me. The lamp was off. The whole room was dark, save from a dim light in the corner.

I sat up to get a better look. Below my body was a metal table. It was cold to the touch. If I didn't know better. It was an examination table. No. An operating table. I glanced around the room and found I was in a small surgical room. And I was alone.

I swung my legs over the side. There was a tug on my arm as I moved. I pulled my left arm up to find an IV in my elbow. The IV bag was empty, so whatever it was pumping into me had worn off. A part of me didn't want to know what drugs was in my system. Keeping the panic at bay, I pulled the IV from my arm, ignoring the sting of the needle.