Chapter Nine

Aarden awoke to a banging. A tall, thin, strange looking man brought them small tins full of water and a few pieces of dried bread.
He couldn’t remember much after the ambush. The blindfolds had been removed once they had been placed in a small, wooden cage. They were sharing it with a large, hairy man. The man was badly beaten, his arms still tied together.
The man was huge, a head taller than Aarden and weighing three times as much. His muscles showed through his loose fitting shirt. His hair was dark, greasy, and thick and continued down across his jaw. His hair was tied back in a tail and his beard also tied on his chin. His face was dirty and had the remains of blue paint, but sweat and weather had stripped most of it off. Despite his rough appearance, Aarden saw in the clear blue eyes compassion and humor.
As Aarden examined his cellmate, he suddenly realized that Spot and Vale were missing. He began looking panicked around the camp.
“Your friend was taken this morning,” the man rumbled. “He’ll be in the interrogation tent.” The man pointed with his head towards a large canvas tent on the other side of the camp.
“Both of them?”
“There was only one other person brought in with you last night. Perhaps you have someone out there to come free us.”
“My pet is the other. His name is Spot.”
Mace sat down rejected. He shook his head and began eating his dried bread.
“Where are you from lad,” Mace asked through his bread. He took a drink and water slid down his beard.
“Distrus, down by the Wall,” Aarden responded, looking uninterested at the bread.
“Never heard of it, but then again, I’ve never been to Epsil.”
“Epsil? I’ve never heard of Epsil.”
Mace gave Aarden a confused look and continued eating in silence. Aarden sat down and started munching on the dried bread. Mace continued chatting with him about the weather and the battle, but Aarden only seemed to confuse Mace more with his answers.
The sun began to beat down on the two prisoners. Aarden was suddenly aware that the sounds of battle had disappeared. A putrid smoke drifted through the camp, ‘from burning the Goblins’ bodies,’ Mace supplied.
Finally, Aarden saw guards bringing Vale back to the cage. Vale’s nose was bleeding and he was being carried, as if he was unconscious.
The guards poked swords through the prison bars to push Mace and Aarden away from the door. Once convinced, they opened the door and threw Vale to the ground. Aarden rushed over to him and helped him up.
Vale wasn’t unconscious, but he was weak. His hands were torn from where the ropes had bound his arms and his face was bruised from several punches.
To ease Aarden’s concern, Vale smiled. He looked over at Mace who smiled back.
“Nothing to worry about,” Mace said to Aarden. “They do this to all their prisoners. Most are eventually brought back. They’ll come for you tomorrow.”
“Did you see Spot,” Aarden asked as he helped Vale with his bread and water.
“What would they want with that Ingot,” Vale asked, wiping blood from his lip.
“Your pet is an Ingot?” Aarden and Vale turned, confused at Mace’s surprise. Mace saw their looks. “Ingots are rare around these parts. I’ve never heard of Humans making them pets.”
“There are hundreds in Durvy; nearly every noble family has them.” Aarden was beginning to tire of this game Mace was playing on them.
“Did you say Durvy? That explains a lot.”
“Of course we’re from Durvy,” Vale returned, irritated. “What do we look like?”
“Well, I can tell from your look, but the boy,” he nodded at Aarden, “he looks to be from Epsil all the way.”
A hundred questions were on Aarden’s lips, but the guards came and rattled the cage. Vale and Aarden silenced their questions for now.

* * *

Aarden was woken roughly as hands grabbed him and pulled him out of bed. He managed to get a look back at Mace who was awake, picking grass from the bottom of the cage. He gave a slight wave to Aarden before the guards threw Aarden into the tent he had seen earlier.
The tent was large, with a table and several chairs. Maps and messages were laid out for a future war meeting. Despite its large size, the tent felt stuffy. Several soldiers were there, waiting for orders. They heard Aarden dragged in and immediately pushed past him, out the tent’s door. The tall man who had captured Aarden was standing at the head of the table, next to someone who looked like a brother. The guards tied Aarden up quickly and then retreated out the tent door.
Aarden tried to get his head on straight as the brothers discussed something under their breath. Finally, the man who had captured Aarden came forward.
On seeing him closer, Aarden started to notice strange features of his captor. His skin seemed to shine with a silver hue and looked like it was pulled tight, especially his face. His hair was dark black, with a slight blue glow. Five small, tight braids ringed the right side of his head. Aarden realized he wasn’t really thin, in fact, he looked quite strong and muscular, but his body was long. His fingers were especially long and he was constantly moving them as he talked. The brother was smaller, thinner, less muscular, but all of his features were almost exactly the same.
The captor stared at Aarden for several intense moments. Finally, “you are a spy,” burst from his lips. Aarden just stared. The strange looking man let out a long sigh. “We captured you crossing our lines late two nights ago. You were armed and ready for combat. Your friend has already admitted to being a spy. If you corroborate his story, we will punish you lightly and release you.”
“We will cut off your hands instead of your head,” the brother stated, a little too matter-of-factly. The one Aarden had deemed as the older brother turned and glared at the younger. After several more tense moments, the older brother turned back to Aarden, waiting his answer. Aarden continued to remain silent.
A right hand snaked from the older interrogator and slapped Aarden roughly across the face. Lights flashed in his Aarden’s eyes and his head rocked back limp. He regained his balance and continued to stare at his captor. “Who are you,” Aarden finally croaked out.
“I will ask the questions,” the older brother punctuated with another slap. Aarden was prepared for this one however, and met it solidly.
“I am Aarden, son of Gosh and Genish, Lord and Lady of Distrus, commercial city of Durvy.” Aarden hadn’t recited his noble introduction for some time. It came out sounding more rehearsed than brave. The interrogator again stared for several moments and Aarden couldn’t return the stare.
“I am Tiyogi, Commander of the Left of the Paladin Irregulars,” the older brother sighed out. “I am the son of Ooroma and Chavan Gawa, knights of the mighty Kob Elf army. This is my brother Forn.”
The younger brother nodded with a sarcastic smile. “Nice to meet you.” Tiyogi glared at his brother once again.
“It doesn’t make sense to me that Humans would work as spies for Goblins, but nothing in this campaign has made sense. You will remain a prisoner until our priestess Crystal can glean your true nature.”
Aarden sat stunned. It suddenly hit him that they were waiting for him to respond. He finally shook himself out of it. “I’m sorry, did you say you were Elves; you live in trees and talk to animals?”
“You dare insult us like this,” Forn yelled, charging at Aarden. Tiyogi also jerked angrily towards Aarden, but stopped himself. He grabbed his brother before he strangled their captive. The outburst left Aarden even more stunned.
“I will forgive your disrespect on the claim of your friend that you are Durvies. Durvies haven’t been seen for hundreds of years. I cannot discern any deceit among him, nor you, so I will believe your innocence for now.” Tiyogi had complete control of himself, but his brother still seethed.
“We’re no plant loving Hauns elf. How dare you compare us to those low-lives? You have dishonored us. I challenge you to combat mortal.”
Aarden finally found his voice. “I’m sorry, I meant no disrespect. I really am innocent.”
Tiyogi helped his brother to a chair on the other side of the table and told him something in their tongue. Forn calmed down slightly, but continued to glare. Tiyogi returned to stand in front of Aarden.
“Consider yourself lucky. Forn would kill you before you could lift your sword. It’s only my curiosity that stays my own hand. We are returning from our sortie into the Dwarven lands and will soon be back with our unit. Your fate will be decided then.”
He whistled a high pitch noise and the two guards returned. Aarden’s arms were tied once again and he was led back to his cell. Aarden was becoming exhausted from all of his confusion.