Wings

Chapter 7

~Flashback~

The whip stung as it struck Lancelot's wings again. They already had deep gashes in them but they instinctively stayed down, protecting his back from the weapon. Daigo had already left the room, unable to watch the beating with no way of being able to help. Gedmin stood in the doorway, blocking Lancelot's escape, not that he could even get off the ground let alone run away.

Lancelot tried to stand after another lash, before the whip could cut straight through the wings, but Serkad kicked him hard and he fell back to the ground, breathless. Blow after blow reigned down on Lancelot, the cuts getting deeper and deeper. Blood-stained feathers surrounded the two men.

Just when the pain became too much and Lancelot was sure he'd pass out, Serkad stopped. His arm must have gotten tired. He wrapped up the whip and walked silently out of the room, followed by a grinning Gedmin.

The reason for this cruelty? Serkad had been beaten in a fight earlier that day and took his anger out on his 'prize'. Lancelot didn't expect to get any food that night, but then, he didn't expect to even be able to sit up until at least the next day.

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At around midnight, the door to the small dark room opened and Lancelot flinched, curling in on himself, expecting another beating. Instead he heard a soft, "Are you alright?"

He looked up and saw Daigo staring down at him sadly. He shook his head but relaxed when he saw that Serkad and Gedmin weren't in the room. He could hear loud snores through the walls; Gedmin. Daigo held out a hand and helped Lancelot sit up.

"I brought you some food. I know it's not much but I didn't think Serkad or Gedmin would let you eat anything tonight," Daigo said, offering Lancelot a small plate of food.
"Thank you," Lancelot whispered, his voice weak and scratchy.
Daigo gave him a guilty look.
"I wish I could get you out of here, but if Serkad or Gedmin found out..." Daigo trailed off.

Lancelot didn't need to ask what Daigo's older brothers would do. They could both be unpredictable at times and Serkad was very possessive of his 'trophy'.

Lancelot nodded, hoping Daigo knew he understood why he couldn't help. Daigo was only 18. Gedmin was 23 and Serkad, 25, both with plenty of fighting experience. It was no question who would get their way between them.

"I'll try to get you something else in the morning if I can, but I have to go now, before they wake up," Daigo broke the silence.
Lancelot nodded again and Daigo left the room.

Lancelot ate the food gratefully, but each movement hurt. His wings were the worst, the feathers almost completely covered in blood, but every other muscle still ached when he moved. Lancelot heard a creaking sound and tensed, afraid Serkad or Gedmin had woken up and would find him with the almost empty plate. When he looked up he saw that the sound had come from the door. It was open, though not by much. Lancelot left the last bit of food and walked, well, limped, over to the door. The lock had been broken and there was a small note hidden in the keyhole.

"I'm sorry," was all it said. Lancelot left the room and moved through the house cautiously. The same thing had happened to the front door. Another note read, "Good luck."

Lancelot looked back to make sure he wasn't being followed, then stepped out, pausing again to make sure nobody grabbed him from outside either. When nothing happened, Lancelot ran. Each step was agony but he didn't stop sprinting until he was deep in the forest near the village and even then he walked on. There was no telling when the men who had 'owned' him would realise he was gone or when they would find him, so Lancelot didn't stop moving for days afterward, until he eventually collapsed from exhaustion once he'd entered the next forest.