Morning Diamond

Captured

Leishmann’s men gathered together like ants at a picnic, each scrambling for their piece of whatever lay in the middle of the group. Mark moved closer, hoping he too could see what the fuss was all about. Once he reached the outskirts of their camp another fifteen men emerged from the mountains and quickly joined the assembly to see what was happening. What are they doing?

Mark observed the mixture of homely dressed men and hoped something would give him a hint of the proceedings, but nothing told him what the excitement was for. He knew he would have to get closer to gain the knowledge he wanted.

Mark slinked into the trees to search for a better angle, but voices stilled his movements. He plastered himself against a tree just in time to watch three men emerge from a large tent. Two men appeared to be of the same make and model of every other man in the camp. Shaggy hair and thick beards, their clothes tattered and worn giving off the impression of back woodsmen, but the man in the middle was clean shaved, hair trimmed, and despite the stains on his clothing, well dressed. Mark grimaced as he watched the two men half carry Mike to the accumulation of people.

Mike looked pale, weak, and he had a large blood stain on his left shoulder with several additional stains on his light blue shirt he looked as though his stay in the camp had not been pleasant. Mark scrutinized the younger man attempting to find his worth. Claire had risked everything for him, but he didn’t look exceptionally special to Mark.

Mark watched as the trio approached the gathering termites-Mark’s new name for the small army- and was surprised when the group instantly parted to allow passage, thus allowing him to see what now stood in the middle of the group. Few men stepped back into their original places making it easy for Mark to watch the proceedings. Mike was brought forward and presented to a tall man whose presence demanded his full attention.

The man stood straight and confident. His strong build and stern look making several people fidget with discomfort as his gaze moved past them and fell on Mike. His black leathers draped his broad shoulders and caused him to stand out amongst the others who were dressed more simply. His face had no whiskers and his salted, dark, hair slicked away from his forehead. His appearance gloated of power and wealth. Mark knew instantly this was the man in charge.

Mark inched closer when the gentleman raised his hand. Instantly, complete silence fell among his grungy, unkempt, followers. Mark marveled at the amount of authority and the immediate response from such a simple hand gesture.

“Are you close to the girl?” The man inquired of Mike, his voice deep and demanding.

“We only knew each other for a short time. Her brothers were a bit over-protective so we didn’t get to see each other much. We were becoming friends until she disappeared the day your men attacked.” Mike’s voice held as much authority as the elder man and-although weakened- he attempted to straighten and stand on his own. The confidence and poise he presented impressed Mark. In fact, the hum running through the crowd of men told Mark he was not the only one stunned by Mike’s boldness.

“She showed up earlier and attempted to rescue me. No doubt she feels guilty and blames herself for my capture.” Mike maintained eye contact until finally a small hint of amusement tugged at the older man’s expression.

“She tried to rescue you?” A sudden burst of laughter rang through the meadow bouncing off the trees. All the men surrounding him broke into boisterous mirth in response to the man’s amusement. Mark doubted any of them understood the reason for the laughter, but were accustomed to following the man in every way. Again the man raised his hand again, demanding silence.

“Brave, I’ll give her that. It gives me a thing or two to think about. Now…” He continued to scrutinize Mike, but his voice rose to address all of his men. “If they were here but a short time ago they couldn’t have gotten far. I want groups heading out in every direction within half an hour. Make lines. I expect her to be found within the hour.” He continued to regard Mike, then added, “I want that girl alive, but the brothers…take them back to Danyon and kill them!”

A Termite stepped forward, he too was slightly better dressed than the others. His hair- grey, long, and shaggy- was tied back with a leather thong and his whiskers were trimmed, but still bushy. He was visibly older than the man before him, but when the younger man scowled at him his confidence quickly wavered.

“Sir, I don’t want to seem disrespecting, but the men and I would like to... Well sir, the one brother got Cal with a knife and we kind of got a personal anger against him. Some of us talked and we think that Cal should get to kill the brothers. Slow like.” He stumbled over his words and quickly bowed his head respectfully to the man in black.

A slow knowing smile crossed the younger man’s face. “Whatever suits you, old friend.” He clapped the older soldier on the shoulder then smirked at Mike’s glare. “The brothers are a gift to my son….let him decide their fates. I will speak with you in my tent.” He stated to Mike. It was an obvious dismissal to his men when he no longer acknowledged their presence. The Termites instantly began to fan out in preparation for their search.

The older man gestured to two men to assist Mike then turned and stalked away. They grabbed Mike, but he shrugged them off. Instead he followed the older man across the camp to a large tent, his gait slow and labored, but he proceeded on his own despite his obvious pain and weariness.

The older man paused long enough to hold open the flap. Mike ducked through and the man in black waved off the guards before following Mike inside. The flap fell back into place, closing off any visual Mark might have established. The two termites made their way across the camp to a smaller tent bordering the tree line. Mark quickly made his next decision and moved closer to the two men, hoping he could learn more from their conversation.

“You think his boy’s in trouble?” One guard asked the other.

“Who? Cal?” Mark knew that name too well. His insides knotted at the sound of Leishmann’s son’s name.

“Yeah.” The soldier responded as the two ducked into their tent.

“Possibly. After all, he did let her escape, twice.” Mark heard some rustling in the tent and knew they were searching for something. The sound of a blade settling into a sheath told him they found it.

“It’s those brothers of hers. Cal misjudged them. Now his father may have all our hides for messing it all up.” A loud thud made Mark wonder what they had knocked over and if it could aid him in his escape with his brother and sister.

“Don’t say that Miryl. You’ll jinx us for sure. It’s Cal who messed up not us.”

“I’d hate to be wearin his shoes right now. Leishmann looks calm enough, but I’m sure his temper’s gunna break free any moment. I bet he beats that boy black and blue.” Mark’s lungs constricted. So the man in the middle of the crowd was Leishmann?

“Na. I don’t think Leishmann would go that far. He may be upset, but I don’t think he’d start a fight right now. Not in Tyrell.”

“Well. That be a fight I’d like to see. Cal’s the best fighter in Danyon and his father is getting older. I’d wager Cal would win!”

“Maybe so.” For several moments the only sounds coming from the tent were those of the men rustling through their belongings. Then one man revealed his thoughts.

“If you ask me, Leishmann should have stayed home and left Cal to take care of that girl.” The men exited the tent, both armed with more weapons than before. “Cal has always pulled through before and there ain’t nothin Leishmann can do different than what Cal’s been doing.”

“I’m thinkin he’s real mad Cal let the girl slip through his fingers and with that witch escaping it makes more troubles. Bet he came here because he likes control and things ain’t in his control right now.”

“Hey, do you think after we catch the girl and her brothers we’ll finally get to go home?”

“I cannot wait to be getting home. Can you just imagine what it’s going to be like after all these years? The first thing I’m going to do is…..” The two soldiers progressed towards a small group gathering at the edge of the meadow. Mark hunkered deeper in the bushes to keep from being seen as the guards passed him and moved out of earshot.

Leishmann is here! I got to get back to Claire, but first... He needed to reach Keith and Claire and get moving before the Termites could find them, but now he knew they needed to take an alternative route around the camp. They’d have to climb down the steep cliffs. Mark checked his surroundings then slowly, carefully, slipped into the tent the two men had just exited to search for what he needed.

Mark made a quick survey of the contents the men had just rummaged through. Quickly he searched the meager belongings packed into rough leather bags. His frustration built. There had to be a rope somewhere. He kicked a bedroll aside and cringed at his foolishness. The sound, although soft, could alert someone outside to his presence within the shelter. He paused to listen.

After several moments nothing stirred. He relaxed and moved to a medium sized box that looked like it could possibly hold a rope big enough to assist in scaling the large cliffs. When he lifted the lid a smile spread across his face. Perfect. He lifted the thick braided cord and threw it across his shoulder. From the corner of his eye he noticed a large sack and moved to it. Inside there was food and what looked like a couple of potions from Danyon. He hoped there was a healing potion just in case something went wrong on the cliffs. He lifted the bag and did a quick survey to be sure there was nothing else he needed. Satisfied he prepared to leave.

Mark turned to the door knowing he needed to be fast if he were going to make it back to the protection of the forest, but instead of progressing through the flap, he froze. Angry sounds moved outside the tent and several voices grew closer. He swore under his breath, angry with himself for his stupidity in trapping himself in the rugged shelter. He said a quick prayer that his brother and sister would go on when they realized he would not be coming back to them.

Mark quietly dropped the rope and bag and quickly drew his knife. He moved into a fighter’s stance; planning to take as many men down as he could before they captured him. He may not be able to kill them, but if he could wound enough of them it may give Keith and Claire the time they needed to get to the cave.

To Mark’s surprise the angry voice passed by the tent and moved away. He let out a strangled breath of relief.

The angry voices grew to an alarming degree, but the sounds soon came from the center of the camp. Mark slowly made his way to the door and peered outside to see what the commotion was about.

Several men tore through the camp, while others joined the rally. The growing group made its way to Leishmann’s tent. Just as they arrived in front of the large shelter, the flap was thrown open and Leishmann stepped out, a look of irritation on his face.

“What is the meaning of this?” He roared. The group instantly quieted and shrank from the apparent anger in the man’s voice. After a few awkward moments of watching the men, Leishmann began to turn, but was stalled when the soldiers parted and pushed a small figure down before the Lord. It looked like a child dressed in a t-shirt- five times too large- and a ball cap.

A timid man stepped from the group and ripped the cap from the small head. Mark instantly looked to the tall man glaring down to gauge his reaction. Leishmann’s eyes widened then narrowed as a mocking smile spread across his face. “Well, my dear, I am so glad you could join us.” His voice softened so his words caressed the ears. It sent shivers down Mark’s spine.

Mike appeared in the entrance behind Leishmann, “Wh…..Claire?” Mark felt his heart leap into his throat. A fear like nothing he had ever felt before welled inside him. The shock of seeing his sister only inches from the very man he should be protecting her from threatened to immobilize him. How did they find her? Did it matter? All that mattered now was getting her out of that camp alive. That resolve had Mark moving before he realized it.

Mark left the safety of the tent and slipped into the surrounding pines. He circled the meadow in an attempt to get closer to Leishmann’s tent. That bastard. If he hurts her I’ll kill him. What the Hell happened? Where is Keith? He should never have allowed them close to her!

It took all of two seconds to realize that if Claire stood in Leishmann’s camp without their brother… The awareness felt like a blunt force plowed into the depths of his chest, leaving him breathless. Several thoughts of what could have happened raced through his mind, but the most probable was that Keith had been seriously injured and either left on a cliff as a trap for Mark or taken back to Danyon for an immediate execution.

Mark had never lived a single day of his life without his brother at his side. Even though they fought nonstop, Keith was his twin and his best friend. He wanted to mourn the loss he felt inside for he knew he could not go to his brother’s aid. His head hung in grief. If a trap had been set it was only a matter of time before Leishmann’s men would realize Mark was not coming and Keith would be taken to Danyon and killed.

Without Keith he had to protect his sister on his own and he needed to start by getting her away from Leishmann. In his mind he began plotting different ways to sneak deeper into Leishmann’s camp, unseen, before Leishmann could hurt her.

Moving quickly, Mark inched closer to the group of men. He noticed a small break in the trees and quickly calculated the distance. If he could make it across and into the next stretch of trees he would be out of sight from the army. He surveyed the area.

A set of canvas shelters lined the trees and scattered in a type of crisscrossed pattern. He could use them to reach Leishmann’s tent. He smiled knowing he could make this work. He shifted into position but before he had time to bolt, a twig snapped. He swung around, raising his knife defensively.

Mark studied the woods, looking for any movement. A small acorn soared through the air and landed at his feet. He picked up the small nut and observed it. His eyes darted to the forest once more, but nothing moved. “Damn chipmunks!” He whispered and took a deep calming breath. He turned once more to face the camp, waiting for his opportunity to run. The acorn in his hand vibrated. Confused, he studied it intensely. It moved several times before finally, it cracked open. Within seconds a sweet aroma filled his nostrils.

Mark heard another twig snap, but his eyes blurred and his head began to swim. A great sea of blackness beckoned him closer and threatened to consume him. A shadow moved towards him, but the figure became fuzzy the closer it got. Before the stalker reached him, his eyes drifted closed and he drowned in the depths unforgiving darkness.