Sunlight hit my face, a new day. I let my eyes adjust and stood up, but hit my head to the metal bars of the cage. I heard chuckling from the other cage. Peering to the ground I saw left overs of a Dunlending meal thrown at my feet. Without hesitation I ate and drank it all. A wagon came towards the village with long and broad tree logs. The logs were brought towards the pit. While eating I mumbled “Must be the new palisade..”. I looked around the village and saw about a dozen small wooden constructions, on each of them lay a body of a slain villager. Frerick stared at the scene as well “We have a funeral today”. I smirked “I dont know what to wear..”, and we both chuckled along.
By the end of the morning there was an old man slowly shuffling in our direction leaning on his wooden stick. He wore the skull of an ox-head like a helm. On his brown rags he wore all kinds of bones and idles. He peered through the bars of the cage, he had scary grey eyes which both looked in a different direction. He stood between the sun and me, casting a long shadow. One of his eyes looked at me and he mumbled something. I felt annoyed and snapped “old man, your standing in my sunlight, can you move over?”. Suddenly his other eye looked at me and the other shifted away, and he spoke with a humming voice “Slave big mouth, slave punished for blood” he pointed at the bodies of his fallen clansmen. He continued mumbling and shuffled back into the village mumbling “Blood for blood.. blood for blood.. blood for blood…”
I sighed as his words wandered through my head for hours “blood for blood”. I looked over at Frerick “Any friends of yours that come to save you?”. Frerick slowly shook his head “very unlikely… you?”. I pushed my head against a metal bar “nobody knows I am here..”. A little while later two Dunlendings opened my cage and a third with bow and arrow kept a close eye on me, in case I try anything. They pushed me towards the corner of the village to a circular straw hut with a large decorated ox skull above the entrance.
They nudged me into the hut, but they did not follow. I walked in and the campfire in the middle of the hut caught my eye. The old man who visited me last morning sat on the other side, and he nudged me to sit opposite of him. I did as requested and slowly sat down, my eyes scanned the room for any sharp bones I could use as a weapon, should the need arise. The wall was full of ceremonial daggers and sharp horns… good.
The fire was burning and the tent was so hot, sweat was dripping from my nose. The old man started to chant and reached for a pouch, a strange powder was thrown in the fire. Blue smoke filled the hut, and it became harder to breath. I felt light headed as if I was drunk and the chanting became louder. Everything slowly faded until there was only me, the old man and the fire. The hollow eye sockets of the ox-skull he wore on his head began to shine red and his words repeated themselves like an echo. The fire danced like magic between us. His voice rose as the chant was about to reach its climax. Suddenly the flames took shape. A stallion of fire ran through the hut, its fiery eyes were fixed on me I felt the exact same mixture of fear and anger when I faced the sabre cat. The old man looked shocked and was screaming in panic “NAHAR!, NAHAR!, NAHAR!”
