The Happy Few

Chapter 8

The muscles in Emery’s backside ached. The rest of his body throbbed in a similar fashion. It felt as though he had gone through a session of rigorous training under the cruelest of military drillmasters. He remembered what had happened to give him such pain and he cringed at the memory, curling into a ball around the hurt.

After the man had used the boy to his desire, he had his men cast him into the same pit where the rest of their young cargo was. For his part, Emery was senseless during the whole affair, mind leaving his body and the atrocities performed on it, and only came back to his senses when his body collided with cold, solid earth. He looked up from where he lay, glaring balefully at the men who laughed at him and slammed the barred door over the pit. When the sounds of their laughter and footsteps receded, the soldier put his head down on the ground and closed his eyes.

It might have been moments or hours later, but a persistent nudging brought Emery back from his restless slumber. For a minute, he lay still, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He was nudged again. Taking a deep breath and burying the aching pain, the boy forced himself into a sitting position and looked around. He turned to where he thought the nudging was coming from and found himself eye to eye with a child no more than twelve years old.

“Are you okay?” The child asked, blinking large, worried eyes at him.

Emery frowned. He shook his head, clearing it, trying to gain his bearings. “I’m fine. Where are we?”

“You’re in the pit.”

“The pit?”

“That’s where they put all the kids before he ships them away.” The child looked away. “Or that’s what the big men say.”

The soldier looked back to the barred door over the pit. It was a good nine-foot drop; none of the children would be able to reach the bars or find a way to crawl out. Even for Emery, who was slightly more than six feet, it would be an impossible height to overcome.

“How long have you been here?” He asked, turning back to the child then looking around and finding a dozen other pair of eyes on him.

The boy child pursed his lips. “I think I’ve been here a week. Johnny’s been here longer.”

That was good news then. “Then they’re not in a rush to move. That will give my friends time to find us.” He was certain that by then Kir had gotten free from his cage and was finding Ari and other help. If he had any faith in the thief, he had faith in the fact that Kir was capable enough in his own profession to pick a lock. He hoped.

“They say they’re gonna ship us tomorrow night.”

“That still gives my friends a day.” Emery said, getting to his feet and trying to reach for the bars. His fingers didn’t even graze the metal.

“I don’t think that will work.” The child said sadly. “They move us around a lot when it’s dark. A couple hours after the bell rings midnight, they lower a rope down and get all of us kids out and take us to a new place.”

Emery looked sharply at the boy. If that were true then they would likely be moved that night, perhaps in a short time; he thought he had heard a bell tolling out the eleventh hour some time ago when he had been in the leader’s presence. It wouldn’t be too long before Kir’s absence was noted and that would send an alarm through the ranks. He let out a breath of tension. He would have to act quickly then.

“What’s your name, kid?”

“Me? I’m Marvis.”

“Alright, Marvis. I’m going to lift you up onto my shoulders and I need you to look out of the bars and tell me what you see. Can you do that?”

Marvis looked unsure, but when he saw the soldier’s determination, he nodded. Emery knelt down and urged the boy onto his shoulders. The boy grasped at his hair, tugging until the soldier winced in pain.

“Ok, are you ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

Emery pushed up from the ground, minding the boy’s head. He moved towards the edge of the pit and pushed the child higher. “Alright, what do you see, Marvis?”

There was silence for a moment as the child strained to see. “I see a door on the other side of the room. No one’s in here.”

“Can you lift the bars? Is there a lock?”

Marvis tried. “It’s bolted down.”

The soldier sighed. “Is there anything around us? Anything that you can grab?”

“Uhm...” Marvis scanned the room. “I don’t think I can get anything, but there are some bags in the corner. There’s some grain and a few bags that look like they have other stuff in them. A few things are lying around. Maybe other stuff they want to sell?”

A small hope fluttered in Emery’s belly. “Do you see something long, wrapped in an orange cloth?”

The child looked. “Yeah, it’s sitting by the bags.”

“Can you reach it?”

“No…”

Emery growled low in his throat then carefully knelt down and let Marvis off his shoulders. The child watched him intently. The dagger was almost within his reach; with it, he might be able to cut through the lock on the door and then he would be able to fight anyone who tried to hinder their escape.

He stared up at the bars. His arms were long enough, he thought; he could probably reach the dagger if he only had the height to reach the top of the pit. But how could he gain the needed height? There was a tug at his shirt.

“Can you get us out?” Marvis asked, a great amount of hope piercing his voice. There were a bunch of frightened intakes of breath around them after he spoke.

Emery glanced at the other children, noting their shocked, terror filled expressions. He did not want to dwell on what would become of those kids once they were sold. The thought firmed his resolve and the soldier looked around for the biggest, sturdiest of the bunch. A handful of them looked to be only a year or so younger than himself.

“You two,” Emery pointed to an elder girl and pudgy boy, “if I stand on your backs, I might be able to reach for the dagger up there. Do you think you can handle that?”

The children looked at each other; Marvis was surprised that there was such a dangerous weapon lying about where they might have been able to reach it. He supposed correctly that it was hidden in the cloth that Emery had asked him about.

“There’s a dagger up there?” The child asked.

Emery nodded. “They stole it from me. If I can grab it, I can probably break the lock and then we can get out. Can you two handle my weight?”

The two eagerly stepped forward. Even on their backs, though, he was not tall enough.

“I need to be higher. You can’t just crouch down on the ground; you need to straighten your elbows and knees.”

It took a bit of effort, but the two kids managed to heave upwards, lifting the soldier the last foot he needed. Emery stood on the tips of his feet and snaked a hand between the bars. The dagger was bundled up several feet from the pit; perhaps he had misjudged the reach of his arm. He was certain he had when his fingernails scraped the ground more than a foot away from the dagger.

Emery pulled his arm back. There was nothing at hand to use as a stick to pull the bundle towards him. A hopeless sensation soared through his blood, then, on its heels, a rush of frustration and anger. “Damn it!”

Marvis winced. “You can’t reach?”

He looked down at the boy. “Marvis, you and that guy get over here and stand on these two’s backs.” He pointed to a tall, scrawny looking boy.

“But you’re there.”

“I’m going to hang onto the side of the pit and kick the grate off. I need you to push on my back and make sure I don’t fall.”

The boy was about to protest the absurdity of the idea, but before he could utter a syllable, Emery grabbed onto the lip of the pit and had swung his feet up to smash against the part of the grate where the lock was. Marvis and the other boy quickly scrambled onto the others’ backs and placed their hands on Emery’s back. The rest of the children watched earnestly, cringing each time the soldier’s feet hit the metal of the grate.

His hold slipped once and he tumbled backwards into the waiting hands of Marvis and the other boy, but Emery quickly grabbed hold once more and pounded at the lock. After several agonizingly long minutes, the lock squealed and broke off of the latch, skittering across the floor. Emery kicked one last time, sending the grate flying open. He hooked his legs outside the lip of the pit and carefully pulled himself free. The first thing he did was to grab the dagger and slide it into his belt. With the weapon at his side, the soldier lay on his stomach outside the pit and looked down.

“Alright,” he said, reaching a hand down to firmly grasp Marvis’ arm, “let’s get out of here.”

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The wharf was larger than they had expected. When he had first fled from the building, Kir had adrenaline rushing through his veins, urging him to run faster and harder than he ever had before in his life. It wasn’t until he and Ari tried to retrace his steps to the abandoned building that he discovered just how far he and Emery had been taken. He had not thought that he had run so far.

Ari looked around at the buildings in dismay; none of them looked like the one the young man had described. “Does anything look familiar?”

The thief looked around, brows drawn together. “No. Nothing.”

The elf inhaled deeply and slowly let the breath out. His hope was fading. “You have to remember something.”

“I already told you what I remember!” Kir snapped. “We were in some kinda warehouse that smelled like fish and it had a big number eight on the side of it and there was a lot of rope in front.”

The description was not helpful. All the buildings seemed to look alike and they had already searched three buildings in three different sections that had the number eight on them. Ari dimly wondered how many sections the wharf had. Their chances of finding Emery waned with every inch the sun rose. Already they could see the first purple streaks of morning in the sky. For a moment, they stood still, lost and struggling to cling to hope. Then a sound reached Ari’s ears.

“It’s three.”

Kir looked at him. “How can you tell?”

“There’s a bell tolling just across the water.” He pointed to a part of the wharf across from them, a few orange lights dancing in the distance.

A thought struck the thief. “Hey, wait! That’s it! That’s where we were! We were over there!”

Ari looked back at the human, startled by his sudden giddiness. “Are you certain?”

“ A’course I’m certain! I remember! When I was runnin’ away, I heard the bell ring at midnight. It was close too; it was loud.”

The man turned his gaze back across the water. Without a word, Ari began running again, leaving Kir startled and a good distance behind him.

“Hey, Ari! Wait for me!”

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They had expected the worst to await them. Fifty armed men prepared to fight to keep their cargo, an empty warehouse with no sign of Emery, or worse, a dead Emery. They had not expected the slaughter they found.

Kir had correctly pointed them in the direction of building eight and they were careful to hide their approach. The thief had peeked through windows and holes in the walls, trying to count the number of opponents they would have. When he reported that he could see no one, Ari was more than a little disconcerted. He feared the criminals had already moved on.

Ari had gripped his spear in a vice hold as they entered the building. He had thrown the main door open in a swift movement then prepared for an attack. None came. As Kir had said, there was no one inside.

“They’ve moved?” The thief sounded crushed.

“I don’t know. Let’s investigate further. Maybe they’ve left some clues as to where they went. Take me to where you were held.”

Kir nodded, leading the way to the backroom where his cage had been. He glanced around, wary, afraid that the men had left a lone scout behind and he was waiting to ambush them. Ari kicked in the small door that led to the backroom. Again, no people, or no living people. Scattered on the ground were four bodies, savagely stabbed and hacked to pieces. Had something gone awry, Ari wondered. The bloodshed did not bode well; perhaps a rival group of criminals had come in to steal the cargo.

When he turned to Kir, he saw that the human was dumbstruck, staring in shock at the bloody mess on the floor. The elf could only imagine where his mind was. “Is this the room?” he asked, trying to distract the thief.

“Yeah, that’s the cage I was in.” the young man pointed, then his eyes traveled to the hook where Emery had hung. “Then they came in and took Emery out that side door, over there.”

A bit of snooping around the room yielded no clues. They turned their attention to the room where Kir had last seen Emery go into. It was a makeshift bedroom; the blankets on the cot were filthy and rumpled. Ari lifted one, examining it and then sniffing it. He reeled back from the stench.

“Blood and sweat.” He said.

“That’s gross, Ari.”

The elf shot him an unappreciative look. “Says the human who bites off his own toenails.”

A dark flush colored the human’s cheeks, but he said nothing, sensing the man’s dark mood. Ari stood by the bed, holding the soiled blanket in his hand, staring blankly at the bed he had taken it from. He balled it in his fist. A frustrated curse had just passed his lips when they heard a rattling sound. The two looked sharply at the opposite end of the room. There was another door there, half-hidden behind a ratty tapestry hanging in front of it.

“Kidnappers?” Kir whispered.

“Or Emery.” He moved forward and yanked the feeble tapestry from above the door. His fingers had just grazed the surface of the knob when the door opened. Ari had to jump back to avoid being struck in the face.

Kir tensed, waiting to see what was lurking behind the door. From his vantage, he could see Ari tense as well, fingers tightening on his spear. They both stared earnestly at the door. The thief craned his neck, trying to peer through the few inches of space between the open door and see who was on the other side. He caught sight of familiar brown eyes looking out, trying to discover whether there was friend or foe about.

“It’s Emery!” Kir cried, pointing at the door.

The elf did not hesitate for confirmation; he stepped towards the door then yanked it the rest of the way open.

Their joy at having found their lost comrade died quickly when the boy jumped back, getting into a battle stance. The state that the soldier was in did nothing to alleviate their dismay. Emery stared back at them with guarded, wary eyes. Kir took a hasty step backwards and let out a soft sound of alarm at the great stain of blood that soaked down the front of the soldier’s uniform. His arms were similarly covered in blood and there were splatters and smudges of red on the boy’s face. Despite all the blood, though, Ari could not see a discernable source of the leakage. He guessed then that it was not Emery’s blood at all but it had come from the men in the other room. Slowly, Emery lowered the dagger, allowing his body to relax.

“What happened?” Ari asked quietly.

The boy worked his mouth for a minute, opening and shutting it numerous times before swallowing hard and saying, “I don’t want to talk about it. We have to get the kids out of here, to someplace safe.”

“Kids?”

When the soldier stepped aside, they saw a small boy standing just behind Emery. And behind him were at least a dozen other children. Ari raised his eyebrows in surprise; somehow, the young soldier had managed to free himself and the cargo of children that the men had intended on selling.

Kir stepped forward and looked the kids over. “Where will we go? S’not safe here, we know that for sure.”

Ari thought. “It’s a three day trot back to Trese, or there’s another town to the east of here, about a day away, but it’s not close to the artifact we need to find. What would you like to do?” He addressed the question to Emery, feeling it only right to allow the boy soldier to decide.

At the thought of returning home, Emery clenched his fists at his side. “We’ll go to the next town over. It’s a shorter walk for the kids. We shouldn’t return to Trese until we have the artifact.”

His voice was stern and brooked no argument, but when he looked into the soldier’s eyes, Kir thought he saw the boy’s courage waver. He glanced at Ari and found the elf scrutinizing their companion. Emery did not flinch under their gaze.

“Alright,” Ari finally said, “We’ll go to the next town over, turn the children over to the proper authorities, then we’ll decide what to do about the artifact. It will be a long hike and with so many smaller feet, it will probably take us double the time. I want you two to take the children and leave town immediately. I’ll gather supplies and then meet you outside the city.”

“We should stick together!” Kir protested.

The elf shook his head. “We can’t. If we went traipsing about town with a dozen children in tow, we would be quickly spotted and that would bring disaster down upon our heads. The southern exit is less than a mile away from here and though it’s in the opposite direction that we’re going, you’ll likely not run into trouble outside of town.”

“But—”

“Do as I say!”

Kir flinched in the face of Ari’s anger, as did several of the children. He didn’t like the idea of parting with the man, but it seemed they had no choice. The elf left them, promising to make quick work of gathering supplies, and Emery began to herd the children out of the building. When they began walking towards the exit, keeping an eye out for people, Kir took the boy’s hand. Emery tried to shake him off, but the thief was persistent and gripped his hand firmly.

“You’re hurting me.” Emery mumbled, twitching his fingers.

“Sorry.” Kir mumbled, loosening his grip slightly. “What happened in there with those guys?”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, but…did they do anything to you?”

There was a heartbeat of silence between them. The muscles in Emery’s arm stiffened.

“No,” the boy said, “nothing happened.”

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As predicted, it took two days to get to the next town instead of the one it would have taken had it just been the three of them. Once they arrived, Ari immediately handed the children over to a group of city guards who promised to find them good places in the city orphanage. With that business done, the man ushered his wary little team to an inn where he ordered only one room.

They trudged up the steps and over the threshold, only to collapse collectively on the two beds. Kir snuggled up to the elf’s side, exhausted. He was ready to fall asleep that moment, but a rustling from the other bed caused him to open his eyes.

Emery was shedding his dirtied clothing, making a disgusted face at the blood that had seeped through the fabric and had dried on his chest. He looked around the room and stumbled over to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Kir frowned and turned to look at Ari. The man was staring passively up at the ceiling. “Ari, do you think he’s gonna be okay?”

The elf shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m not entirely certain what happened to him, but I can hazard a guess.” He paused. “Did he speak to you?”

“No…I asked him, but he said nothing happened.”

“Do you believe him?”

The thief frowned. “No.”

Ari sighed. “It can’t be helped. We can’t force him to talk. We’ll just have to wait until he’s ready to confide in us.”

Kir wished he could force the boy to talk. He was as certain as Ari was that something traumatizing had happened to the boy. The sheer amount of blood on his clothing was evidence of that, but what frightened him more was the memory of that man touching Emery, leering at him the same way he leered at Ari.

The sound of running water came from behind the closed bathroom door. Kir waited. He heard the tap stop and some small splashing noises. Ten minutes passed. Fifteen. Twenty. The thief got to his feet and went to the bathroom door.

“Hey, Emi,” he banged on the door with his fist, “When’re you comin’ out?”

“In a minute!” Came the gruff reply.

“Well hurry up, some of us wanna use the bathroom too.”

Ari glanced at the thief, frowning. He could see through the young man’s feeble excuse and could see plainly his concern for the other human. Guilt had no small part to play in Kir’s sudden attentiveness, he was sure, but Kir was not ready to address that yet. After a good night’s rest and a warm meal in a safe place, perhaps they would all be ready to speak.

Emery came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, a towel wrapped around his waist. His clothing and other possessions had been taken in Portica and there was no chance he would slip into his old, dirtied clothes. With little choice, he slipped into bed with the towel wrapped around him. He pulled the covers up to his nose and looked out at the rest of the room from under the security of the blanket. Kir entered and exited the bathroom, then went to lie with Ari. They molded together and minutes later, they were both asleep. Emery lingered awake awhile longer; he could not shake the feeling of eyes on him. He told himself he was only imagining the sensation, that it was an effect of the shock he had been through. Reluctantly, he shut his eyes. They would fly open anytime there was sounds in the room or from down the hall, but eventually his exhaustion overcame his anxiety and he sunk into a deep sleep.

END

For anyone who thought that Emery's stunt was impossible, I'd just like to interject that it really isn't. I used to be a monkey, climbing trees and all sorts of things, and I was a gymnast, so I know all about hanging and climbing on things. As long as Emery had a good grip, he could have managed to hang onto the side of the pit. As a soldier, I'm sure he's quite flexible. Plus he had people supporting his back. Anyway, please leave reviews. Hope you're enjoying it and if you have any questions, feel free to ask (unless I plan on revealing them in the story, then I might not answer).