Chapter 11 - The Captive

When we last left Andres, he was flying through the air with his head covered, preparing for a very hard landing from which he’d likely never recover. He hated being masked, because his sense of touch was not particularly acute. That was a good thing when it came to dueling, because a jab to the ribs or a sideswipe to the head didn’t faze him too much. But it wasn’t handy right now, because he just couldn’t figure out what was going on. If he was going to be dashed to pieces on a cobblestone patio, he’d like to meet his demise head-on.

To his rather pleasant surprise, he wasn’t dashed to pieces at all. Instead, he felt like he’d landed on two soft tree trunks, as odd as that might seem. Then he felt as though the tree trunks moved and tossed him onto a fuzzy rock. While he lay on this fuzzy rock, his hands and his feet were tied, thus further limiting his ability to feel out what was going on. Then the fuzzy rock on which he was laying rose up, moved forward and started bouncing around.

If this doesn’t particularly make any sense to you, it’s because it didn’t make much sense to Andres either. That was why he hated having his eyes covered, because whenever he did it seemed like he ended up riding on flying rocks. But what had really happened was this: his descent to the ground had been cut short by a muscular man whose arms were the size of tree trunks. This man proceeded to lay Andres down on the back of his horse, tie him up, and begin to ride away. Andres’ flying rock was simply a horse that was moving swiftly toward the southern woods.

Eventually Andres figured this out, and he began struggling mightily to get free. He wiggled and writhed and rolled and winced and did everything possible to get his hands free. He wanted to head-butt the horse to get him to stop, but he didn’t figure the horse ought to suffer because his rider was a big lunkhead. Still, his mighty struggle against his bonds was quite distracting to the horse, and the rider did everything he could to keep the horse moving in a straight direction.

Finally Andres heard a voice. “Hey Chub, can’t you slow down?” the voice said. It was a deep voice with an odd sort of drawl. “This guy is driving my horse crazy!” Andres smiled to himself beneath his mask.

“Uh, hey, are you kiddin’ me, Pipes?” replied another voice. It was not a particularly smart-sounding voice, in Andres’ opinion. It was kind of high-pitched and a bit whiny. “You know they’re gonna be after us. We gotta get into those woods fast, man. No slowin’ down!”

Andres instantly despised the second voice, the voice belonging to the man called Chub. Here he was, being bounced around mercilessly, unable to see and barely able to breathe. Why couldn’t they give him a break and slow down? Andres couldn’t contain himself. He bellowed out, “Why don’t you knuckleheads take it easy? I’m dying back here!” Of course, he wasn’t really dying, but he didn’t figure a little exaggeration would hurt anything.

“Shut yer big mouth, punk!” Chub replied. Andres then felt his head get struck with some sort of wooden rod. It hurt tremendously. But Andres didn’t say a word; he wouldn’t give these guys the satisfaction of having bothered him. Besides, Andres could hear the rod snap, and he heard Chub cry out, “Hey, that punk’s head broke my favorite walking stick!” Andres smiled to himself once again. He had a unique ability to maintain a sense of humor, even in the most dire circumstances.

Still, the horses rode on. After awhile, Andres could feel the horses slow down and stop. Once again, Andres could hear voices. “Hey Chub, if we’re in such a great hurry, why are we stoppin’?” asked Pipes.

“Look, pal, can’t you see that kid back there who’s chasin’ us?” Chub replied. Andres’ heart was instantly filled with hope. That had to be Cable! But then his hope was tempered when he heard Chub continue. “I’m gonna send an arrow right through his heart!” Andres heard the distinct sound of an arrow being launched through the air. Andres closed his eyes; he didn’t want to see what happened. And then he realized that he didn’t need to close his eyes. He couldn’t see anything anyway.

Andres’ feared the worst as he felt the horses move again. He fought against his bonds with renewed vigor. He tugged and pulled and bounced his body up and down. He felt Pipes’ hands reach back and try to keep him still, but nothing short of death was going to keep him still now. He cried out once again, “Let me go, you lunkheads!” As he did so, he heard Chub say, “Pipes, we’ve got to go to the right! The wraiths of Dor-ko are there to block the path!” Andres then felt himself veer sharply to the right. Shortly afterward, he felt the pace slow down a bit.

Now Andres knew nothing of the wraiths of Dor-ko. But this much he did know--if Chub needed someone or something to block the path, then that must mean that Cable was still on his trail. That was a great relief to Andres. On the other hand, the slower pace must have meant that the path was truly blocked, and that Cable wouldn’t be able to continue the chase. That was bad news indeed. Andres became extremely angry with his captors, not so much for what they’d done for him but for what they’d done to his brother. He resisted with renewed fury. He knew he was having success, for the horse was constantly shifting and moving. Pipes could barely maintain control.

Finally, Andres felt himself stop. He heard his captors talk once again. “Hey Chub, why don’t we untie the kid? He’s not going to run off--not in these woods. And it would sure make the ride go a lot easier.”

“All right, Pipes,” Chub replied. “Let him free. But I’ll ride behind you, and I’ll send an arrow through his throat if he tries to escape.”

Within moments, Andres’ mask was removed and his hands and feet were untied. He looked around him. He was surrounded by the densest woods he’d ever seen. He was on a narrow path that slashed through the woods, but Chub was right--there was no room for escape. Besides, darkness was settling in. If he tried to run through the woods, he’d be slashed with dead branches besides getting instantly lost. Andres resigned himself to riding with his captors.

Andres glanced at the two men. Pipes had a relatively slender body, but his arms were enormous. His head was completely bald and clean-shaven. His face was actually fairly friendly-looking, as far as kidnappers go.

Chub, on the other hand, did not look at all friendly. His face was covered with a scraggly beard, and his mouth was constantly downturned into a frown. He was an enormous man, and Andres quickly figured out why he’d been made to ride with Pipes. Chub was so big that his horse wouldn’t have been able to hold the extra weight. In fact, after Chub mounted the horse, there wasn’t really enough room for anything else. His head, in proportion to his body, was extremely small. It kind of reminded Andres of a stem sitting atop a pumpkin.

After Andres had taken time to get his bearings, Chub came up to him and stuck his finger in his chest. “Look, punk,” he said. “You are free for now. But don’t even think about taking off, d’you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you,” replied Andres. “How could I not hear you? You’re like two feet away!”

Chub slapped Andres. “Don’t be insolent, punk!” he bellowed. Andres shrugged it off. He rather enjoyed irritating Chub, and a slap was a small price to pay. “Here’s the deal--you are going to prison. If you try to escape, we will kill you. But if you mind your manners and stay as still as a mouse and quiet as a statue, then you can ride with the mask off.”

“Uh, don’t you mean ‘as still as a statue and as quiet as a mouse’?” replied Andres. “Mice aren’t really all that still.”

Chub’s face turned red, and his perpetual frown was turned down even further. “Listen to what I mean and not to what I say!” he growled.

Andres turned toward Pipes. “I appreciate your kindness, I really do,” he said. “And I think what you’re proposing is downright generous. I just have one thing to ask. I can understand you’re not wanting me to run away now, since you’ve so kindly allowed me to ride without a mask on. But would it be okay if I try to escape once I get thrown into my prison cell? Can I at least try to run away once you’ve locked me up and thrown away the key?”

Pipes turned toward Chub, and Chub nodded his head. “Yeah, punk, that’s fair,” Chub replied. “As long as you behave yourself on the trip, we’ll allow you to try and escape from your prison cell. Of course, you’ll never escape, since no one has ever escaped from Dor-ko’s prison. But you can try.”

Andres took grim satisfaction in his negotiating skills. He and his captors then continued their ride through the darkening woods.