enough for his ankles and wrists, bound tightly behind his back, to chafe. At first he'd heard voices, but whether they were real or drug-induced he wasn't sure. Now there was only silence.
He lay on his side on a metal slab, downward shoulder aching. Wriggling around earlier had brought bars into view with a heavy cloth drape outside them. Faint light trickled under the bottom edge of the drape, but no amount of prodding had done anything, and he couldn't get the leverage needed to pull.
He flexed his fingers, trying to keep blood flowing into them as they began to go numb. He'd shouted earlier, but the gag was too well done. Any noise he made was muffled into a blunted yell, and the effort only winded him -- dangerous, when he couldn't gulp air. He'd spent several fuzzy minutes sucking air through his nose, which was half blocked by the folds of the gag.
It was impossible to sleep, though given low light levels and the overall quiet Ashe figured night had fallen. He counted hours. Twelve hours of lazy riding over two days to get here. They could have made it in eight hours. Eight hours to get back to the others after Katsu and Eddie realized something was wrong. An hour to mobilize and another eight for the best riders to get to the city. Seventeen hours before rescue arrived, and that assuming Katsu and Eddie had left right away.
So say twenty or more, before they'd realize something was wrong, before they'd return for a rescue. He had no idea how many hours had already passed. The whole day, he was relatively certain. Surely it wouldn't be so dark or quiet if people were awake.
They'd arrived in the city around lunchtime. It had likely been mid-afternoon before Katsu and Eddie went for help. Ashe's heart sank. They'd be lucky to return by noon -- and surely Byron's caravan would leave before then.
Ashe tried to convince himself they could find him on the road. That his friends would somehow know he was still with Byron, not dead in an alley somewhere, and would effect an escape. He couldn't keep his heart from sinking, though. It just wasn't likely. Caravan guards would stop them, even if they didn't spend too much time looking for him in the city and set out right away. Nate wouldn't allow the whole crew to be slaughtered rescuing him, and that's what it would come down to. Byron could always claim they were bandits who'd attacked; the law was on his side. Even if they proved Ashe was being held against his will, they'd have to do it before the caravan crossed over the border into Diwegol. Slavery was legal, with certain provisions, across all the provinces, but in lands where dwarves were far more common than elves, and no love was lost between those races, they wouldn't side with Ashe instead of a wealthy merchant -- despite suspicious circumstances.
The thought made Ashe renew his struggles. He hated riding this close to the border. He especially hated being tied up and kidnapped.
Fear stirred in his chest, though he'd managed to fight it down earlier. He strained at his bonds, even pouring magic into his skin to protect it from rope, then into his muscles to add strength. All the strength in the world wasn't enough to snap his ties, though. Ashe bellowed into his gag, mostly out of sheer frustration, and heard an animal growl in response not too far away.
He lay still for a moment, catching his breath. The gag reeked of sweat not his own, and was gritty against his tongue. He'd tried pushing the ball of cloth out of his mouth, but it was held in place by the material wrapped around his face. He'd tried rubbing that off, but only ended up rubbing his cheek raw.
Ashe yelled again, kicking both feet against the bars of his cage. It got no response except the hammering of his heart, the rustling of other animals, and more silence.
He sagged in his cage, defeated, sucking in air through his nose. It whistled past the gag. Sweat dampened his brow and under his arms. Fear made it potent.
If Eddie and Katsu were
He lay on his side on a metal slab, downward shoulder aching. Wriggling around earlier had brought bars into view with a heavy cloth drape outside them. Faint light trickled under the bottom edge of the drape, but no amount of prodding had done anything, and he couldn't get the leverage needed to pull.
He flexed his fingers, trying to keep blood flowing into them as they began to go numb. He'd shouted earlier, but the gag was too well done. Any noise he made was muffled into a blunted yell, and the effort only winded him -- dangerous, when he couldn't gulp air. He'd spent several fuzzy minutes sucking air through his nose, which was half blocked by the folds of the gag.
It was impossible to sleep, though given low light levels and the overall quiet Ashe figured night had fallen. He counted hours. Twelve hours of lazy riding over two days to get here. They could have made it in eight hours. Eight hours to get back to the others after Katsu and Eddie realized something was wrong. An hour to mobilize and another eight for the best riders to get to the city. Seventeen hours before rescue arrived, and that assuming Katsu and Eddie had left right away.
So say twenty or more, before they'd realize something was wrong, before they'd return for a rescue. He had no idea how many hours had already passed. The whole day, he was relatively certain. Surely it wouldn't be so dark or quiet if people were awake.
They'd arrived in the city around lunchtime. It had likely been mid-afternoon before Katsu and Eddie went for help. Ashe's heart sank. They'd be lucky to return by noon -- and surely Byron's caravan would leave before then.
Ashe tried to convince himself they could find him on the road. That his friends would somehow know he was still with Byron, not dead in an alley somewhere, and would effect an escape. He couldn't keep his heart from sinking, though. It just wasn't likely. Caravan guards would stop them, even if they didn't spend too much time looking for him in the city and set out right away. Nate wouldn't allow the whole crew to be slaughtered rescuing him, and that's what it would come down to. Byron could always claim they were bandits who'd attacked; the law was on his side. Even if they proved Ashe was being held against his will, they'd have to do it before the caravan crossed over the border into Diwegol. Slavery was legal, with certain provisions, across all the provinces, but in lands where dwarves were far more common than elves, and no love was lost between those races, they wouldn't side with Ashe instead of a wealthy merchant -- despite suspicious circumstances.
The thought made Ashe renew his struggles. He hated riding this close to the border. He especially hated being tied up and kidnapped.
Fear stirred in his chest, though he'd managed to fight it down earlier. He strained at his bonds, even pouring magic into his skin to protect it from rope, then into his muscles to add strength. All the strength in the world wasn't enough to snap his ties, though. Ashe bellowed into his gag, mostly out of sheer frustration, and heard an animal growl in response not too far away.
He lay still for a moment, catching his breath. The gag reeked of sweat not his own, and was gritty against his tongue. He'd tried pushing the ball of cloth out of his mouth, but it was held in place by the material wrapped around his face. He'd tried rubbing that off, but only ended up rubbing his cheek raw.
Ashe yelled again, kicking both feet against the bars of his cage. It got no response except the hammering of his heart, the rustling of other animals, and more silence.
He sagged in his cage, defeated, sucking in air through his nose. It whistled past the gag. Sweat dampened his brow and under his arms. Fear made it potent.
If Eddie and Katsu were
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