The Lost Treasure of the Forsaken by w.c.markarian | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Prelude: Part 8

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...the small confrontation had turned into a much larger brawl.

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STILL SHAKING HIS HEAD, Uzemzum stood up and propped his spear against one of the stones that served as makeshift seating by the fire. A few long strides later, he had crossed to Thami's side. With a grunt, he bent over, grabbed Thami by the shoulders, and dragged him over the coarse hard sand until his back was propped against the cliff wall.

"Don't get any ideas," Uzemzum said, bringing his face close to Thami's.

Thami nodded. "No ideas. I mean, what can I possibly do?"

"Worry about tomorrow," Uzemzum said with a sneer. "Worry about what pain the dawn will bring."

Snorting, he rose to full height and returned to the opposite side of the campfire. He sat next to his spear and positioned himself to face Thami. But Uzemzum rarely looked in Thami's direction. Instead, his head swung back and forth with a nervous vigilance. To Uzemzum's left, the spearmen still laughed and talked too loudly, and to his right, nothing stirred in the shadows. Occasionally, he looked down at his hands and picked at his fingernails, while shaking his head and grumbling to himself.

Thami seized the moment to test his bonds, which were hidden behind him. As he had hoped, he could pull his wrists apart, but no farther than a finger's width. Worse, while he could separate his hands, they remained firmly locked within their bonds. Behind him, the cliff wall's jutted into his back, so he shifted, hoping to find a jagged edge he could rub the ropes against. Thami shifted his arms up and down, but only found bumps and crags blunted by sand, wind, and time. Maybe a different section of wall would do the trick, but he didn't dare move more than a few inches for fear of grabbing Uzemzum's attention. If Thami was going to free himself, this wasn't the way.

The crunch of heavy footsteps to the right disrupted Thami's efforts. Uzemzum noticed, too. He swung his head toward the sound and half rose from his seat. Sure enough, Aseggas emerged from the shadows with four other warriors in tow. All wore a slew of beads in their hair. All of them were Asagharian warriors like Aseggas and Uzemzum.

"Aseggas?" Uzemzum asked as the older man surged past, his focus entirely on the spearmen in the distance.

"Not now, Uzemzum," Aseggas said, not bothering to look back at his trainee. The men with Aseggas laughed. Apparently, they were amused by something he'd said.

As the group strode toward the spearmen, Uzemzum shook his head and sank onto his rock. He mumbled under his breath while he stayed focused on Aseggas and the warriors he'd brought with him.

"What's that you said?" Thami asked.

"Nothing for your ears, dog."

"Why not? You seem like you've got something on your mind. Why not tell me? I mean, it's not like I can tell anyone once I'm dead, right?"

Still focused on Aseggas, Uzemzum grunted. "I only said that I'm no 'Uzemzum.'"

"Huh?" Thami said, confused. "I thought you were Uzemzum?"

"No, my name's not Uzemzum. It's Tazwara Tugga. And I'm every bit an Asagharian as Aseggas. He just calls me Uzemzum to irritate me. It means 'fool' in the old tongue. But seriously, if anyone's an uzemzum, it's Aseggas. I mean, look at him. Stupid old idiot."

As Tazwara spoke, shouting broke out from the spearmen's camp. Thami tipped his head back, straining to focus in that direction. One of the spearmen already lay prone on the ground, and Aseggas, brandishing the sword he'd stolen from Thami overhead, stood over the fallen man. As Aseggas slashed downward, Tazwara jumped to his feet and blocked Thami's view.

Thami blinked. He might not get another chance. Without thinking, he kicked against the wall, rolled forward, and blindly crashed into the back of Tazwara's legs. The thin boy crumpled awkwardly, and as he fell, Thami heard a hollow thwack. He writhed against the ground and tried to put some distance between him and Tazawara, bracing for him to retaliate. But when Thami finally positioned himself to see his captor, Tazwara lay motionless beside the stones ringing the firepit. Apparently, his head had struck one of the rocks. Thami held still and examined Tazwara closely. But the boy didn't move except for the soft rise and fall of his chest. Unconscious, but not dead.

Exhaling deeply, Thami scanned his immediate surroundings. Now what? In front of him, Tazwara's spear tip gleamed in the firelight. How long before Aseggas got back or Tazwara came to?

Do I dare risk the time needed to cut my bonds? Thami wondered. But if I don't, how far can I possibly get with my hands tied behind my back?

More shouts in the distance made Thami's decision for him. Whatever Aseggas and his pals had started, they hadn't yet finished. If anything, the small confrontation had turned into a much larger brawl.

Thami closed his eyes and muttered, "Great Maker, please. Please, give me enough time, and I'll be forever in your debt." He rolled onto his belly and wriggled across the sand until he could nudge Tazawara's spear to the ground.

His plan was one born out of desperation. But if he could slide the blade between his bonds...

Squirming against the sand, Thami positioned his body so his belly was next to the spear's blade. Eyes closed and jaws clenched, he heaved with shoulders, twisted his torso, and rolled so his back lay on top of the blade.

It took several attempts—painful attempts—during which the razor-sharp blade found his skin instead of the ropes around his wrists. But finally, with the butt of the spear locked between his legs, Thami wedged the blade between his forearms. Several sawing motions later, the ropes snapped. Miraculously, he was free.

His first instinct was to jump to his feet and run. But he forced himself to lay still and consider his options. As he did, Tazwara moaned. A flutter of panic rippled through Thami, but his renewed awareness of Tazwara also sparked an idea. Thami rose to his knees and looked down at his former captor. He sucked in his lip as Tazwara's eyes fluttered open.

"Sorry, Tazwara," Thami whispered, "but Aseggas was right. You are an uzemzum."

Then he rose up and dropped to one knee, slamming his elbow into Tazwara's temple and knocking him unconscious again.

Thami stayed low and scanned the hubbub surrounding him. Bodies were strewn across the ground where the spearmen's campfire had been. The campfire, though, had apparently been scattered by the fighting, and now one of the nearby tents was engulfed in flames. Soldiers everywhere were running toward the conflagration, desperately trying to douse it with water and sand. And, most importantly, Aseggas was nowhere in sight.

There was a chance. A slight chance, but more of a chance than Thami thought he'd ever get.

****

Hey there!

To all of you who've been following this story, please accept my thanks. A story is nothing without an audience, and I love hearing from you. Happy holidays to all!

Best wishes,

Will


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