Healer of Sakkara

Chapter 10 - Caught

Three weeks of training under Triss's brutal tutelage had not turned Galen into a warrior. It had, however, honed his reflexes and strengthened his muscles a little, and as the hands dragged him deeper in the shadowed alleyway, Galen fought back as best he could.

With practiced sharpness, he jammed his right elbow into his assailant. Somewhat to his surprise, it connected solidly, eliciting a satisfying grunt of pain. Next, he kicked off the ground, butting his head into his attacker's chin and knocking him off balance. As his attacker stumbled, Galen shoved hard, and the man (for from his size and the gruffness of his voice, Galen judged his opponent was male) fell, taking Galen along for the ride.

Galen landed on top, and landed hard, but whoever held him stubbornly refused to let go. Instead, with Galen on his back and now with nothing to leverage himself against, the other man quickly gained the upper hand.

He grabbed Galen and rolled, trapping him face down in the dusty path, then pinned him there with a knee between his shoulder blades. The burlap knapsack he'd fashioned provided a little cushioning, but the pressure still hurt and made it difficult to breathe.

"Stop struggling," a voice hissed in his ear, and Galen groaned as he recognized the unpleasantly familiar tones.

"What the hell, Darek?" he rasped, spitting grit from his teeth. "Let me go!"

He attempted to raise himself despite the knee in his back, but Darek shoved him down again so his face scraped in the dirt.

"Ow! Darek, what the—!"

"I said stop struggling!" Darek whispered harshly, and yanked his hands behind his back, binding his wrists with a rough, scratchy rope. "And be quiet. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking—!"

"Shhh!" Darek shoved him again. "What about 'be quiet' do you not understand? Shit."

Galen heard a tearing sound and then gave a muffled yell as Darek forced a wadded strip of cloth into his mouth and bound another strip over it, gagging him.

"There," Darek hissed, finally taking his knee from Galen's back and hauling him to his feet. "That oughta hold you. Now come on."

He shoved Galen in front of him, down towards the lower end of the alleyway, in the opposite direction from Harrald's house.

Galen resisted, but Darek was larger, stronger, and far better trained. All he did was piss Darek off, and at the corner of the alleyway, Darek shoved him against the nearest wall and breathed hot, foul-smelling words in his ear.

"Listen, you little fuck," he grated, "I'm saving your whoreson ass. You show your face out there, and those people will murder you. They think this is your fault—and Harrald's. They figured he must be the one hiding you, so they set his fucking house on fire."

Galen gave a muffled cry of alarm, but Darek just shoved him harder into the wall.

"Shut up. He's fine. The Bitch took him into custody for his own protection."

Galen sagged with relief, recognizing the nickname some members of the Guard gave Triss—mostly those jealous of her skills and success.

"Meanwhile," Darek continued, "I figured if you weren't a burnt corpse already, the quake would draw you out of whatever rat-hole you've been hiding in, and that you'd head straight for the old man's house. Lucky for you, I guessed right. You're worth a lot more alive than dead, and I want that money."

As if heeding his own words, Darek loosened his grip a little and stopped crushing Galen into the wall, allowing him to breathe.

"Your foreign friends are waiting near the docks," he said, aiming Galen towards the end of the alleyway again. "I'm gonna take you there, trade you for your weight in silver, and then they're gonna take you fuck-knows-where. On the other hand, if we're caught, you're gonna die very publicly, and I'm still gonna take the credit for catching you. Got it?"