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“I think around two years. It wasn’t always easy to judge,” he murmured. “I’m surprised they kept you alive that long. Red Caps aren’t exactly known for being merciful.” “If they had killed me, they would have lost their primary source of entertainment.” He gave a sardonic laugh, void of any humor. “It was much more amusing to make me suffer.” I envisioned the multitude of silver lines decorating his body. “Your scars.” “That was just a fraction of what was done to me. Only those rare occurrences when they wanted to make certain I didn’t heal.” As he spoke, he violently ripped at a tree branch. While I found his physique attractive, knowing what he’d survived was even more alluring. Those scars were more appealing to me than any bulging bicep or chiseled jawline, especially taking into account his cavalier personality. He was multidimensional. Intriguing. Torture that severe, even over a short time, could damage the mind irreparably. Two years of suffering? It was miraculous he didn’t spend his days rocking in a corner. My mind conjured images of my mother. She had endured intense psychological torture for years. Merlin claimed she never recovered, but what did that mean? Had the emotional turmoil changed her physically? Would I even recognize her? Did she rave like a homeless person on a city street, or did she stare off into the distance with drool coming out the corner of her mouth? I understood that she wasn’t the same woman who raised me, but not knowing what had come of her was almost worse than thinking she had died. Knight’s determination to survive was definitely impressive. “How did Merlin get you out?” I asked after a while. He chuckled to himself. “My memories from those later months are still hazy. I was pretty far gone by then, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget seeing Merlin walk into the compound—not that I knew who he was at the time. As you probably know, Red Caps rarely live together for long before they start killing one another, but this group of fifteen had been banded together for years. Their encampment consisted of a couple of shanty structures in a cluster of trees deep in the woods. I was kept in a pit dug into the ground, but on that day, I was still above ground after my most recent … entertainment session. Shackled to a tree, I watched as an elderly man cloaked in a long gray tunic hobbled into camp. He leaned heavily on a walking stick and wore a large, floppy hat, shielding his eyes. To all the world, he would seem an unassuming mouse wandering into the fox’s den. Had I not been half mad, it would have been rather comical. My captors surrounded him as he gazed about with feigned blindness.” Knight continued to tell the story, lost in his memories. “Hello? Is someone there?” the man asked feebly. The leader of the group snickered to his brethren. “You’re a long way from home, old man,” he called out in a grating, nasally voice. “Ah, yes. Excuse my intrusion.” He bowed respectfully. “I noticed you happened to have a fine beast there in the shade. I was hoping you might be able to part with him for the sake of this old man. I have a great deal of trouble with my eyes lately and could use a helpful companion.” “The mutt is worthless and would be of no help to you,” the leader responded. “I have a way with animals, and he seems to need some medical attention. Perhaps there is something I might offer in the way of trade?” For a moment, the Red Caps considered his offer, glancing at one another coolly. “The beast is too valuable to trade, but that is a fine cap you wear. It would look lovely in red…” The clan of Red Caps lunged as one, descending on the old man with vicious ferocity. Unfazed, the man held his ground. When the creatures were only a few feet away, they each slammed into an invisible barrier that surrounded him. All of them went crashing to the ground at his feet. His rounded back straightened, and he continued to rise, seeming to almost double in size. He towered over the Red Caps who scuttled backward in shock. “Braeback Longclaw,” the newcomer bellowed in a voice that echoed with power as an unnatural wind swirled around him. “You will release the beast unto me.” The leader scrambled to his feet and looked around frantically as if debating what he might do to fend off the sorcerer. “NOW!” roared the man with so much force, the ground beneath us shook. The leader hurried over to where I lay cowering. Grumbling under his breath, he unclasped my chain from the tree. By that time, I was conditioned to obey, so I scurried behind him as quickly as my broken body would allow. The Red Cap thrust my iron leash at the sorcerer with a trembling hand. Not once in all my time with the clan had I ever seen one of them show signs of weakness. The open display of fear stirred to life a terror in me I had thought long dead. The intense fear I’d lived with early in my captivity had waned to a vacant numbness. I didn’t need to fear pain—it was a guarantee. Pain was just a part of life—there was comfort in that certainty. Now, I was being surrendered to an unknown master. Would he be worse than the Red Caps? I hadn’t imagined my life could get worse, but what did I know? Maybe the devil I knew was better than the devil I didn’t. As soon as the ancient man gripped my chain, he began to wave his walking stick in circles as if he were stirring a giant cauldron. He murmured a series of words, and the winds whipped up to spiral in a violent storm before us. Each of the Red Caps was lifted up into the tempestuous vortex, screaming and pleading for their lives. With a flick of his wrist, the man commanded the storm to fling its swirling debris far off into the sky. The moment the Red Caps were gone, the winds settled, then dissipated as if nothing had ever happened.
- Writer
