The Hunters of Sian

Death to the Young

--

Chapter Two

Death to the Young

--

The first thing Nell noticed was the heat. Warmth like he hadn't felt in a long time. His limbs were like sandbags. They were pinned to his sides, held in placed by a tightly wrapped tartan blanket. He was inside a rounded tent. Outside he could hear the muffled voices of conversation, the barking of hounds and the movement of many people. It was mid-morning. He couldn't move. His body hadn't recovered. Nell couldn't even keep his eyes open as a shadow fell over him.

'Where-'

'Be silent.' The demon's deep baritone voice cut him off.

'Who you are doesn't matter anymore. You belong to me. You will do what I say when I say it, or you will be executed. Once I have decided you have earned your place, you will be allowed to use your name, until then, I'm not interested in hearing you.'

Nell struggled to sit up, his arms shaking violently. 'I...' before he could finish his sentence, a clawed hand whipped out. The demon grabbed his jaw, squeezing until Nell felt the bones grinding. He cried out in pain but couldn't pry the talons from his face.

'I do not like repeating myself. Eat and be silent.' Nell was flung back hard onto the bedroll. He rubbed his aching jaw as a bowl was passed down to him. The boy grasped the wooden spoon with a shaking hand and stared down blearily into the bowl. It took a few swallows to get enough saliva in his dry mouth to eat without choking. He scooped the porridge into his mouth. On an empty stomach it was close to heavenly. He ate without further encouragement until the bowl was empty. A hand pushed him back into the bedroll.

'Sleep,' the voice commanded. Nell groaned. His head was already filling with cloud. He didn't remember closing his eyes.

When next he woke, he was being thrown from the bedroll.

'We are leaving. Get up.' Nell was sent stumbling into the blinding sunlight. He caught himself before he hit the dirt. The tent was being taken down behind him. He stood stiffly. Being woken so abruptly, the blood was making his fingers tingled. He squinted until his eyes adjusted and looked about for the group that he had been with those days before but before he could go towards them a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

'Hold on there. You're the hunter's boy now. You don't go anywhere he doesn't.' Nell looked down to see the thick brown collar before two strong sets of hand slammed him face first into the dirt.

'No!' It didn't matter how Nell screamed or thrashed. The combined strength of the two demons holding him down was more than enough for his bones to grind together. He felt the collar buckle closed around his neck. He was left to pick himself up, groaning in pain.

'Come.' There was a clink of chain as Nell was pulled forward. It was the first time he got to properly look at the man.

If he could be called a man.

He was tall. Taller than anyone Nell had even seen. His skin was almost as black as his ebony drack. Coal black and dappled with streaks of darkest grey that highlighted a sharp cut jaw and pointed ears. His hair was jet black, long and braided to the centre of his back with a tight strip of thin leather. Long fingers were tipped with short claws. The armour was tight fitted leather with overlapping thin plates that covered his flat stomach. He wore a thick bear skin cloak but even so, Nell could see a thin whip like tail ending in a short-pointed spade.

Whereas most of the other demons had short straight horns and thin curled goat horns, this man had thick dark charcoal ribbed horns that curved away from his skull like a giant bull ibex. He was every bit as impressive and terrifying as the glances suggested and he held, in his hand, the end of the long chain. A chain that was wrapped around his hand and connected to Nell's collar.