It took an entire day to ferry the company of horsemen across the river.
Once again the dark hood was placed over my head. I could feel the unsteady movement of the river's current under my feet when I was pushed up onto the raft's planking. The voices around me still spoke in words I could not understand, but I could hear the tones of fear as both men and horses sought to pass over the rushing waters without being thrown into them. The river did nothing to avenge me, though, and all was made safe on the far bank of the river. Then the ride westwards began.
I had expected to company to camp once they had landed, but that was not to be. Still hooded, I heard a great commotion around me and urgent voices raised in tones of command. I was lifted once more onto the back of a horse and lashed to the saddle. The day was waning. I could feel the last rays of the sun give way to the cool of twilight as the night's trek began. I must have slept at some point, though I was so firmly secured to the saddle I would not have fallen off. At last I felt a small ray of warmth hit my back...sunrise. We were climbing. After a full night and day's ride, we camped at the foot of a mountain.
My eyes had grown so accustomed to the blackness of the hood, that they were almost blinded by the light of the small fire that had been built in the dirt of the pavilion...my now familiar prison. Once again, the bonds of my wrists were tethered to an iron ring that had been driven into the ground. The air around me was cold, and I could see my breath in small clouds of steam. Lowering myself to the ground as carefully as I could with my hobbled feet, I sat close to the little fire and drank in its light and warmth. That night I saw the Amber Man once again.
He entered the pavilion accompanied by two armed soldiers and, behind them, two serving women I had never before seen. As he stepped between me and the small fire, I could not help but smile a little when I saw he wore different shoes...a small triumph which I knew availed nothing, but still felt sweet. Behind him one of the soldiers reached down and placed something in the fire, though I could not clearly see what it was. He motioned to his soldiers to lift me up and place me on my feet, which they did without hesitation. I could feel the heat of his breath on my face.
"You will tell me where she is..."
"Ishkhaqwi ai durugnul...."
He smiled, revealing brilliantly white, perfect teeth...it reminded me of the shadow-cats of Mirkwood.
"You know very well what I am saying. You are a hunter, no? So am I. I will tell you how we hunt game in my land...we send our servants out with torches and burn the land...then the birds we desire fly straight to our arrows. I have many eyes...and they have seen many birds with such plumage as yours in this place called Breeland. Tell me where she is, and I may let the others fly free for a time."
I said nothing; the smile on his face deepened.
"I will find her, but it will make no difference for you. You will never wear her sigil again....you will wear MINE!"
And in his eyes I saw red flames kindled in the depths of the Abyss. The two soldiers beside me took my arms in a painful grip. The Amber Man reached behind him and with his right hand took a glowing red iron from the flames of the fire. Turning, he grasped what remained of my tunic in his left hand and ripped it from my shoulders. With a cry that sounded almost like a laugh, he thrust the glowing red metal into the flesh above my heart.
The breath rushed into me and stayed. For a brief moment it was as though the marrow of my bones had turned to shivering ice. Then the world was pain. My knees buckled, but the soldiers on either side of me still held me. The Amber Man paused a moment as smoke rose from beneath the brand, then abruptly drew it away and threw it on the ground, turning and striding out of the pavilion. The world was pain, and I could not see. Releasing their hold on me the soldiers let me slip to the ground, picked up the iron that was lying on the ground and followed their master. The world was pain, and I barely felt the hands of the two serving women who took the bonds off of my hands and feet. They dressed the charred flesh and placed a warm robe around me, but I did not feel it. When they led me from the pavilion the next morning and placed me on a horse, it did not matter that my hands were left free. The world was pain, and I did not have strength to stay in the saddle. Once again I was lashed to my mount, but it was to keep me from falling. The world was pain, or I would have noticed the peaks of the Misty Mountains melting into the deep ravines of the Trollshaws.
And the company continued westward.
