Legends Lost: Galdin

Legends Lost: Galdin (Book3, Chapter II)

Note: This is the 34th chapter in my fantasy novel, Legends Lost: Galdin. There are 52 chapters total and I will post 1 chapter every Friday.  But if you wish to read the entire book now, it is available for purchase on Amazon, iBookstore, Kobo, B&N, and Smashwords.  

Chapter II

Returned 

 The influx of air into Galdin's lungs told Nylana that he breathed once more.  Wiping her tear stained cheeks, she helped him up.  "Galdin."

Galdin breathed deeply several times before speaking.  "Where's Trya?"

Closing her eyes to stop the tears, Nylana look downward telling Galdin everything he needed to know.

"So it wasn't a dream."

"No," said Nylana.

Galdin looked about him.  Tabs sat in the distance watching with intense interest.  "Where's Valn?"

Suddenly, Nylana realized that the Byleon had gone missing.  In her emotional state she had never noticed, nor did she fully hear what Magi had told her.  "I don't know.  Where's Magi?"

"Valn ran after Ryk," answered Tabs, "He was taken prisoner by the barbarians.  Magi disappeared soon after Trya and the sorceress left."

"We need to go after them," said Galdin sitting up.  He stopped when his head spun placing it in his hands.

"You need to rest," said Nylana.

"We haven't time," said Galdin, "We can't leave Ryk to their mercy."

Nylana helped Galdin to his feet.  "Are you sure you are able?"

"I'll manage," said Galdin as he checked his sword.  "Which way did they go?"

"East," said Tabs. 

The cat darted off through some shrubbery.  Groaning at the animal's lack of consideration that they could not go through such small spaces, Galdin and Nylana chased after him hoping to find Ryk before it was too late.

 *                  *                  *

 Ryk's feet plodded along the dirt path as his captors pulled him along by the rope that bound his wrists.  He counted the number of men around him: eight.  Taking his options into account, Ryk wondered how he would escape.  Unless a miracle happened, he knew it would be impossible. 

A harsh tug on the rope practically knocked him off his feet.  Two quick steps to regain his balance and Ryk continued allowing his captors to pull him along; figuring it best to be compliant for the moment.

The barbarians camped that night and tied Ryk to a rotting log far away from the fire.  Ryk sat silently observing the men as they laughed and drank, confident in their superiority.  He wrenched his hands within the rope trying to loosen his bounds.  Something slimy whapped him on the chin.  Startled, he looked up into the face of one of his captors.  The man glared at him with hatred. 

"Eat."

Glad that the man did not suspect him of trying to escape, Ryk glanced at the food.  The bloody heart of an animal lay in his lap.  Disgusted, Ryk knocked it away much to the entertainment of the man that had chucked it at him.

When the savage walked away, Ryk watched their merrymaking.  Hastily, he rubbed the rope around his wrists against the rough surface of the log.  A soft shuffling noise filled his ears.  Making certain no one noticed him, Ryk glanced back at the men around the fire.  Still drinking.  He resumed his efforts of cutting his bounds.