Nefarious Afairs

Chapter Three

Breakfast, as it turned out was nothing more than a handful of dried fruit and some seeds; not a real meal Rogue thought sullenly but it would have to do.

Rogue's plan to escape wasn't entirely working out as she had imagined. She had been heavily guarded while they walked along the dusty, dirt road. She had considered making a break for it, but when she looked up she had caught her captors eyes; he smiled, it was not a warm smile, but one filled with malicious intent, all thoughts of running off without a plan were soon barred from her mind. The idea of what he might do to her when he caught her made Rogue shudder involuntarily.

She had learnt his name through word of mouth: Hunter, she turned the name round in her mind, Hunter she liked the sound of it. She was caught of guard when a small smile tugged at her lips.

The company, (though company is not quite the right word, as company implies modesty and these people were by no means modest.) journeyed hours before they finally stopped to rest; the cart from earlier it seemed, was no longer being used for escorting the prisoner. For this Rogue was mostly greatful because although her legs were tired at least she was no longer being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. (Little did she know the bandits treated their food better than they had treated her; especially potatoes).

Throughout their journey Rogue had been trying to place where she was; she was despaired to see she recognised nothing, she must have travelled a long way to be this far from all she knew.

Rogue was a wanderer born and bread. To be this far from anywhere familiar she must have travelled a long way. Rogue wondered briefly how long the cart ride had been, with the sleep deprivation she had acquired she couldn't be sure she hadn't slept for a couple of days.

They set up camp when midnight fell and woke before the break of dawn. During this time Rogue spent most of time in chains. She was made to sleep outside, while the bandits stayed warm in whatever you called their make-shift shambles. No-one would tell her who had ordered this, but she had a feeling it was the angered woman who had refused to feed her a day earlier. From what she had gathered the woman's name was Aster, it seemed to Rogue too soft a name to fit a woman quite as spiteful as her.

She was rained on during the night, and as she was chained to a tree she couldn't get comfortable. Her sleep was worse than the night before, and when she stood up to walk at dawn her legs were tired and sore; but as she was wanderer, walking on tired legs was second nature.

Rogue's year had been nothing if not unpleasant, when she found the inn she had been so relieved at the chance of rest. The chances of her resting now seemed so incredibly slim, whatever life she had ahead of her as captive and kingdoms most wanted wasn't exactly going to be painless. Maybe this is what I deserve she thought, after all I've done.

This thought hardened her resolve as she dragged herself to her feet. She would make it, and damned to hell be any if they got in her way. She was not this easy to defeat. She shook herself, angered at how easily sheà wanted to give in, she would not let a few bad nights sleep break her. There was worst to come and worst followed behind, haunting her like a nightmare she would rather forget.

It was then she heard a voice, a voice that she knew so well, only it couldn't be; he couldn't be here, he couldn't. She spun around and saw him, there in the flesh, standing before her.

"You're supposed to be dead." She whispered.

Hey there! Yes you, thanks for reading, I know there are a lot of other stories so thanks, if you liked this part let me know in the comments or give me a vote! much abliged, the author.