Young Writers Society

Rana’s entire body shook with a silent sob as she buried her face in her knees and tried to force herself to breathe deeply. She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, willing herself to calm down. Panicking would do nothing but give her captors even more power over her than they already had.

She took a deep breath and held it, silently counting in her mind. One, two, three; she breathed out. One, two, three. She had to focus. In; one, two, three. She had to keep it together. Out; she opened her eyes and looked around the small tent they’d thrown her in once more. In; she wiped her eyes awkwardly past the ropes that bound her wrists together, doing her best to keep them from digging into the raw patches of flesh.

So far nothing too terrible had happened to her in their care. The men tied her up and forced her to walk with them, the large man carrying her for part of the trip when she was being too obstinate about going with them, but otherwise they hadn’t touched her. They walked until sundown, when they reached a large camp.

They led Rana to the far edge of the camp and shoved her into an empty tent, then placed a boy outside to be sure she didn’t try an escape. She was too worried at first of what their plans for her were to think of escape. But now she knew she needed to make a plan. She couldn’t just sit back and let the men abuse her. She was done playing victim.

The tent was bare, as far as she could tell. There was a small sliver of light sneaking into the tent through the flap that served as the door, but otherwise the tent was dark. She couldn’t see anything else, aside from the boot of the guard that tossed her in the tent, standing just outside the tent to the left.

She looked at the ropes around her wrist. Ordinarily she’d try to escape them, but her wrists were already burning and itchy from the cuffs in the dungeon. She didn’t want to risk inflaming the skin even further than it already was. She sighed in frustration.

If only she could get her hands free, she figured she could escape.

Before they’d wrestled her into the tent, she saw that it was on the edge of the camp. Behind her tent was a dark stand of trees. If she could slip away unnoticed, she was sure she could get far enough away that they wouldn’t be able to find her. At least not until the morning light. And by then she hoped their passions wouldn’t be inflamed.

She tried the ropes once but growled in frustration as it broke open one of the scabs on her wrists, making the scrape start bleeding again. Rana almost thought that her feet and legs were sorer than her wrists at this point, after all afternoon marching without shoes.

“Has the girl caused you any trouble?”

Rana’s head snapped up as she heard the leader’s voice just outside the tent. She’d dawdled too long. If he got his hands on her, there would be no escaping. She’d assumed they’d have dinner at least before they wanted their perverted entertainment. Apparently, she was wrong.

She panicked. She hadn’t expected his voice to send such a surge of terror into her body. Now that the anger had worn off, the only emotion she had left was unbridled fear. No, stop. You can’t quit yet. You can’t, she thought. She turned suddenly and plunged her hands under the edge of the tent.

She lifted the canvas just high enough to get her head under it, then used her elbows to pull her body the rest of the way out of the tent. She turned back towards the tent and pulled her skirts free, letting the edge of the tent fall back to the ground. She turned forward, raising up to one elbow.

“Jayk! The girl’s gone!” the guard’s panicked voice came from inside the tent. “Jayk!”

Suddenly a pair of boots stepped into Rana’s line of vision. She froze, body tense as she forced herself to look up into the eyes that glared down at her. There was an uncomfortable silence as the man stood over her, arms crossed, brow furrowed.

He looked beyond exhausted and had dark bags under his eyes. But that didn’t take away from the intensity of the glare he sent her, or the rigidity of his jawline. She looked at him breathlessly, eyes wide, too afraid to care about pretending not to be scared of him.

“Jayk!” the guard’s voice came again. “She’s not here.”

“Yeah, I got her,” the man standing over her called back, never taking his eyes off her. Jayk. She tried to commit the name to memory. It sounded vaguely familiar, like the name of your parent’s old friend that you’d heard stories of, but never actually met yourself.

Keeping his expression as unreadable as ever, Jayk bent and hooked his hand in her elbow. He jerked her to her feet then pulled a dagger from his belt and held it to her abdomen. “Walk.”

She hesitated, glancing at the woods briefly before turning her eyes back towards his face. He lifted his eyebrows challengingly, his expression every bit as terrifying as it was back in the clearing, and held his dagger even closer to her stomach. “Move.”

“Okay,” she said, too terrified to defy him further. She knew she didn’t want to head towards whatever type of “fun” he had planned for her in the camp; but there was no point in letting him slice her up before dragging her to whatever her fate was to be.

She turned and walked around the edge of the tent, Jayk pressing his dagger against her lower back the entire time. The man who was supposed to be guarding her along with the large man from the night before were both standing in front of the tent, scowling as soon as she stepped into view.

“Was it really so difficult to keep an eye on a tied up little girl?” Jayk questioned.

“I didn’t realize…” the man trailed off, ducking his head. He seemed fairly young, maybe in his early twenties, and looked abashed at having Rana nearly escape on his watch. He sent her a glare, then looked down in shame.

“Didn’t realize?”

“Nothing. Sorry,” he said, looking up cautiously. “I messed up.”

“Do better.”

“I will, Jayk,” the man answered, nodding. “I’m sorry.”

To Rana’s surprise, Jayk clapped the man on the shoulder and nodded his forgiveness. For a man that had the power to chastise a guard, it seemed strange to her that he’d be so freely forgiving. Or that he allowed them to call him by his first name. He certainly didn’t seem like a cruel master to the men in his charge.

A moment later Jayk’s attention was back on her. He gestured towards the flap of the tent with the tip of his dagger. “In.”

She hesitated a moment. Just because he wasn’t cruel to his men didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be cruel towards her. She didn’t want to risk it. She grudgingly obeyed, stepping back inside her canvas prison. Jayk followed her in, then the large man walked in carrying a stack of clothes and a lantern that he set on the ground.

“Jayk,” Jayk said, gesturing towards himself. He pointed at the other man. “My brother, Drayan.”

Rana was silent a long moment, wondering whether she should answer as she eyed Drayan. He was tall and muscular, and every bit as terrifying now as he was the night before. His arms seemed to be as big around as her legs. His dark brown hair was long and knotted and his beard was long and unkempt.

“Decent manners say you tell us your name now.”

“Decent manners say you don’t kidnap me.”

“Elstan, right?” Jayk said, not rising to the bait. “I can call you Ellie. Ellie-girl has a ring to it.”

“Rana,” she answered with a sigh, not wanting to give him a chance to think up any distasteful nicknames that might stick. “Darrana Elstan.”

Jayk cut the rope that bound her hands.

“There now, that wasn’t so hard, now was it? Put these on.”

He held a pair of trousers out to her.

Rana took the trousers and ran her fingers over the coarse material. “Fine. A bit of privacy.”

“Nope.”

“Then I’m not changing.”

“You are,” Jayk answered, drawing himself up to loom down at her. “And you’d do well to enjoy the privacy you’re getting here, or I’ll drag you out into the middle of the camp and make you change there.”

Rana didn’t want to risk him making good on his threat. She sighed irritably and turned her back to both of the men, doing her best to slip the trousers under her skirts without showing too much of her legs. She fastened the trousers but found that they still hung loosely off her hips.

She pressed the palm of her hand into her left side, trying to make the throbbing of her corset stop. Her attempt at escaping the tent made the stiff ribbing dig into her side, making it hurt terribly. She wasn’t sure how she’d manage to get free of this dress on her own.

Suddenly she felt rough hand brush her neck, then begin undoing the buttons on the back of her dress. She started to turn towards him, but he grunted and put his hand on her shoulder, turning her away from him again. Rana felt indignant, like a child standing, waiting to be helped by this cocky man. Yet she knew she’d look even more foolish if she fought and tried to do it herself.

As Jayk neared the bottom of the row of buttons, he nodded to his brother. Drayan walked until he was standing directly in front of Darrana. Jayk undid the final button then pulled his dagger out and sliced the thin cord that bound her corset shut.

Rana gasped, stumbling forward and falling against Drayan’s chest in a clumsy attempt to steady herself. She’d never been freed from a corset that quickly, and the sudden lack of pressure on her abdomen paired with the knife’s stroke made her world spin.

“Look at that, the girly can breathe,” Drayan said, grasping her forearm gently. “I’d never seen your chest rise or fall, in all this time you’ve been with us.”

“That’s because it couldn’t,” Jayk said. “I really don’t know why you silly girls insist on wearing these things. They seem dreadful.”

“They are,” she agreed, stepping away from Drayan. He held to her wrist. She jerked away from him, but suddenly realized her mistake as he held on to the sleeve of her dress, yanking it off her as she pulled away. She covered her chest as best she could, not pleased at only having the thin layer of her slip between herself and the men and took the shirt Drayan offered her.

She quickly worked the buttons, trying to roll the sleeves up past her hands so they wouldn’t dangle too low. Jayk watched her a moment then nodded, gesturing towards the opening of the tent. “Alright. This way. It’s time for you to go meet the boys.”