The Iron Teeth

The Road North 1

The small captive awoke to the rattling of his cage. The sudden noise banished all memory of any dreams he may have been having. Sometime during his sleep, the ropes tying down his cage had become loose and the cage had started bouncing around in the wagon.

The noise hurt his ears. They twitched as he brought up his fingers to try and plug them. It didn't help much. He wasn't used to such sounds, especially almost constantly for days.

He really wished he had never awoken. He wouldn't be able to get back to sleep now.

A hiss of annoyance slipped past his lips as he peered out from under the ragged tarp that failed to properly cover his wooden cage. The tarp was brown and worm-eaten so it didn't shield him from the harsh light outside. It also smelled terrible, but he was used to worse.

He blinked to try and see past the bright light that blinded him and get a look at the scenery. There were lots of trees.

More trees than he had thought could possibly exist in all the world. He hadn't seen a lot of trees when he had lived in the city, only a few when he had left the shelter of the tunnels and headed out under the night sky.

His earliest memories were of being taught obedience by his masters and of them sending him down into the dark below places. There, he and his tribe had hunted the depths for rats and been sent to unclog tunnels and pipes. He had gone into tight places too small for men and then come back out for the promise of tasty rewards. Rat meat got old after a while.

Under the cover of darkness, while the masters slept, his tribe had squeezed through old broken bricks and rusted grates to creep around the city. There they had scrounged for food among the refuse, only to slink back as dawn turned night to day.

Excitement came from fighting with his tribesman, dogs, or the occasional unusually large rat. The bigger the rat the better it tasted, but the largest ones were mean fighters with nasty teeth.

Sometimes, they even formed packs so his tribe would have to form a war party! He still remembered the Great War of the One Eyed Rat and the feast that had followed is tribe's victory! He'd been young then but had played a crucial part; he'd distracted several particularly dangerous rats by running away.

However, one day everything had changed. The masters had summoned his tribe and once he'd arrived they had singled him out. Then, he had been placed into a cage and given water that made him feel drowsy. A second later, he'd fallen on his face and everything had gone black.

A great fiery hand had pulled him from darkness. Shadows had danced around him as he burned and promised him new treats and pleasures beyond anything he had ever known. He hadn't had a dream like that since he'd eaten that one purple mushroom.

As he slept he had been hauled out into the daylight and placed in a cage on a wagon. Much to his dismay he had groggily woken up just as the cart had rolled through the streets and out the city gates.

Still drowsy from his dream, he had whimpered in fright. He had blinked and tried to shield his stinging eyes from the unaccustomed to light as he had cowered in the corner of his cage.

He had remained quiet and obedient though. He knew better than to complain or draw attention to himself, for the masters would silence him swiftly.

Soon, his wagon had joined many others and a horde of men. Together, they had set out from the city and into the never ending green sea of trees.

Were the men moving to different city, or perhaps they were starting a new one? Would they need him to hunt and clean the dark places below? He didn't know; he could only sit in his cage and wait.