When I was twelve, Kevin made me go to church every Sunday. He was a firm believer in the power of early mornings, hard pews, and the corrective influence of the Lord Jesus Christ.
Kevin was my fourth placement. He sported a large mustache and was married to Deena, who left behind pamphlets on "unwanted urges" on my bedside table.
I usually fell asleep during the service, much to Kevin and Deena's displeasure. However, I do remember one particular sermon. The pastor spoke about gratitude. He explained how, no matter how bad things get, they could always be worse. You should thank God for every trial, because every trial is just God's way of saying, "I love you. Here's another opportunity for you to grow."
I thought about that sermon now.
Not out of gratitude. The pastor was right about one thing: it could always get worse. It could always, always get worse, and it would get worse at the exact moment you thought it couldn't.
I thought about this while my hands were tied behind my back, my mouth was stuffed with cloth, and my face was pressed against the wooden floor of a cart that smelled of shit.
To my left, Cruit was in the same position. Bound and gagged. Not in a fun way. Her braid had come undone halfway, and dirt was on her face, and there was murder in her eyes.
Next to her, an elf. The elf was bound and gagged as well. He had long, pointed ears and dark eyes that had apparently seen some shit. It seemed like he had been taken before we were.
Earlier, when we heard the voices in the woods, I suggested that we go around. I had seen this movie. Cruit had insisted that we investigate because she had never once heard the words "potential danger" and thought, ah, I should avoid that. Despite my better judgment, I followed her, and I paid the price for doing so.
Three men sat around a fire in a clearing, eating a rabbit. They appeared to be brothers, sharing a single brain cell, which they seemed to be taking turns using. The biggest one, who was missing most of his teeth, spotted us first.
What followed was a very short fight.
They drew a knife. Since I didn't have a weapon, I grabbed a rotten branch, which immediately broke. The big one came at me, and I threw a rock that connected with his head. He didn't react; it was like hitting a wall with a pool noodle. Less than 2 minutes later, he had picked me up and threw me over his shoulder.
Cruit was doing better. She had the knife in the arm of the second brother, and he was howling and swearing. She had already begun moving toward the third when the big one, still holding me with one arm, hit her across the back of her head with his free hand, hard enough to make her stumble. The third brother caught her arms. She bit him.
"HOLD 'ER!"
"I'M TRYIN! SHE'S GOT TEETH LIKE A —."
The three of them had to hold her down. She kicked one of them in the face, and it seemed that she cracked his nose.
They bound us. It was a lengthy process. We did not cooperate.
"This one's a hellcat," the big one panted, his cheek bleeding from a scratch. He looked at Cruit in bewilderment, as if he couldn't figure out how someone so small could have caused so much damage.
"Pretty though," the youngest commented. He was the smallest of the three, barely older than me, with a patchy beard and an expression that was somewhere vacant. "Real pretty.“
"Sully gets the wife, we get the worker." The big one jutted his chin at me. "He ain't much but he'll do for the fields."
"What about the one we already got?" asked the middle brother, holding his broken nose with one hand. "The pointy one."
"Pointy one can work too."
They had first tried being nice to Cruit.
The youngest of the group, named Colm, swept away the leaves on her shoulders and apologized, "Sorry about all the roughness, miss. We ain't usually like this. You want some water?”
She spit in his face.
The biggest one, Rowan, tried next. He knelt down in front of her, which put his enormous head roughly at the same height as hers.
"Now miss. We ain't gonna hurt you. Sully's a good man.”
"Untie me," she demanded.
"Can't do that, miss. Not till you calm down."
"Untie me or I will remove your hands and use them to untie myself."
Rowan scratched his head. "See, that's not calm, is it, Dale?"
Dale, with his nose still bleeding, shook his head. "Dot calb."
They gave her bread, but she knocked it out of Colm's hand. They offered her a blanket, but she kicked it. As Colm attempted to tidy up her hair, saying "it's come all undone, miss —", she retaliated with a hard headbutt.
Rowan was losing patience. He stood up and pointed his sausage-sized finger at her.
"Now you listen. I don't gotta be kind. You're gonna be Sully's wife whether you like it or not and you can do it with your teeth or without 'em. Makes no difference to Sully. He ain't picky."
Cruit stared at him. Then she spat on him again.
I watched from the cart where they had dumped me. I was tied and gagged, unable to do anything but watch.
They placed a gag over her mouth after that. Threw her in the cart with me and the elf.
Colm climbed to the front. He raised his hand, revealing bite marks. He looked at them with a sort of dazed admiration.
So here we were. The cart bumped on every stone in the road, sending a jolt through my already aching body. My hands were losing feeling behind my back. The cloth in my mouth tasted like it had been used to clean a horse's ass. The elf had closed his eyes and was either meditating or praying. He seemed to have mentally removed himself from reality, which honestly seemed like the best available option.
Colm constantly turned his head to glance at Cruit. Every time their eyes met, she fixed him with a gaze that could have petrified him, if only those rumors had been true. Alas.
"She's real pretty, isn't she?" He repeated
The middle brother sat on the back of the cart with his legs dangling. His nose was packed with cloth. "She boke by dose."
"Sully's gonna love her. He been so lonely since Marta left."
Colm cast a glance back at Cruit and then at Rowan, who was strolling next to the cart.
"Why's it gotta be Sully?”
Rowan didn't bother to glance in his direction. "Sully's the oldest."
"I'm just sayin'." Colm cast a longing glance over his shoulder at Cruit. He let out a wistful sigh. "I saw her first."
Dale interrupted from the back. "By dose hurts."
***
The old and dilapidated house on the farm featured a sloping porch, a chicken coop, an ancient wooden fence, and, naturally, a barn.
I arrived in this world in a barn, and now I'm being pushed into another one, as it seems that all the significant milestones in my enchanted life must take place in a stinky barn.
They tossed the elf and me onto the bales of hay. Rowan secured my restraints to a post. The rope, thick and buried, was used for securing livestock. Dale, with his broken nose, stood in the doorway and observed.
"Don't try nothin'," he said, which came out as "don't try nuddin.”
Through the open barn door, I watched the youngest one lead the princess towards the house. He seemed to be talking to her. She turned her head and glanced back at me for a brief moment.
Then, the door closed.
I heard a plank drop into place on the outside. Footsteps on the ground, gradually fading.
I started working the gag.
The knot was sloppy, but my hands were behind my back so the mouth was going to have to do the work.I pressed my tongue against the cloth. Pushed. I tried not to think about what it had been used for before it was shoved in my mouth.
I worked my jaw side to side, stretching the fabric, getting it to slide. Bit down on it and pulled. Pushed with my tongue again. My jaw ached. I kept going. Bit, pulled, pushed. Bit, pulled, pushed.The cloth slipped down over my chin. I spat.
The elf was watching me. His enormous eyes kept shifting between me and the barn door and the barn door as if a rabbit was contemplating which way to run.
"Yo." I turned towards him, keeping my voice low. "Help me get my hands free. I'll get yours."
He mumbled behind his gag, shaking his head vigorously.
"I know we haven't been formally introduced, but I need you to scoot over here and do this. My —" I jerked my head toward the farmhouse. "I gotta get in there."
He tilted his head.
"Cruit is in there," I said. "The girl they took. She's… I have to get her out. Help me and I'll get you out too. Or you can sit here and wait for these idiots to make you their slave forever. Your call."
He looked at the barn door again, but then he shuffled over on his side, awkwardly, his bound ankles dragging in the hay. He was making a sound behind his gag. He came up behind me, his long, thin fingers finding the rope on my wrists. He worked at it. He started slowly, then sped up when he found the knot.
It came loose. My hands burned as the blood rushed back. I shook them out and flexed my fingers, then turned to him.
I removed his gag first.
"Oh thank the Gods,” he exclaimed, then quickly added, “please don't leave me here.”
"Relax. I got you." I was working on his wrists. The knot was tighter than mine.
"I'm relaxed. This is me relaxed. You should see me when I'm nervous."
"This isn't nervous?"
"Nervous involves more crying."
I managed to untie the knot. He freed his hands, shook them out, and then hugged his own arms.
"I'm Cas."
"Sióg." He massaged his wrists, grimacing. "Short for Sióganach, which is what my mother called me when she was in a good mood. When she was in a bad mood she called me 'the stupid one.' I have a lot of brothers. Too many names to remember.”
"How long have you been with these guys?"
"Three days. Three very long days. The little one hugged me yesterday and I let him because I was afraid to say no."
"So how'd they get you? Jump you on the road?"
"No." He brushed hay off his pants. "My family sold me to them. Two goats and a half bushel of grain. I was told it was a fair price. For an elf. Personally I think they could have held out for three goats but my father was never much of a negotiator.” He shrugged.
"Dude. That's fucked up."
"Is it? I mean…" He thought about it. "In fairness I was the seventh son and we only had six beds, so from a logistics standpoint —" He scratched his ear. "Anyway. The barn has a back wall that's mostly rot. Could kick through it. We could be gone before they even check on us."
"We can’t leave yet," I said standing up.
"We… what? Why not?"
"The woman they took inside. I'm not leaving without her."
"She seemed like she can handle herself!” He waved his hand. “She’ll be fine!”
"I'm not leaving her.”
"I have tremendous respect for your loyalty, but we should just go! Right now! Into the woods. Forget her! Let’s get away from the large men. Live our lives. Never look back. Start fresh somewhere with fewer kidnappers."
"Nope,” I started looking kicking the wall, testing to see if I could kick break through it.
"Even though they outnumber us and outweigh us and one of them lifted you like a sack of —"
"Dude. I'm going in that house. You can come or you can stay."
He glanced at the wall behind him before sighing. "Yeah. Okay. I'll come."
"That was fast.”
"I don't want to be alone in the woods either." He stood up. He was taller than I expected. “For the record, this is a terrible plan. Walking into the house with the three crazy men who kidnapped us. What could possibly go wrong?”