Freeing Lilia

Flaming wounds

Unedited.

∦ Chapter 16: Flaming wounds. ∦

I stared up at the greying skies, my fingers curling into the sand. My breathing rattled too loud above the babble of the river and my skin a bluish color among the drab grey of stone. 

Panic blared inside of me, a wailing alarm as I heard the dim murmur of men's voices, their gruff voices rising and falling through the din in my mind. There was no way I could fight or escape, and it left me feeling an animal trapped in the path of a predator.

Footsteps approached me, those voices level and content. I wondered if they could spot me among the sand and rocks, my bloodied and broken body sprawled like a piece of driftwood.

"...should fill our water-skins..." a gruff, mildly annoyed voice said.

My breath caught faster in my throat and I inched my head to the side, biting down hard on my lip when the mere movement seared through me. I could see the shapes of males from the corner of my eyes, over the rise of a wet rock. There were three of them and they were clothed against the weather, tall and imposing shapes in my peripheral.

"Please do not see me."

They talked amongst each other, confident in their herd mentality. I kept digging my fingers into the sand, subtly trying to shift my body to keep the dimness from slipping into my vision. If these men were going to spot me and do what I assumed they would do when presented with a victim who couldn't run, I didn't want to be unconscious. I wanted every opportunity to fight, to see a way to get back at them.

"I want to get out of this weather," A rough voice grumbled. "I am sick of the rain and then...wait!"

Stones scuttled under boots, a ragged breath sounding above the water. "Is this a woman's boot?"

I tried to hold my breath and tried to sink into the sand as if it would wash over me and hide me until they left. The weapons on my hip were useless when I couldn't even lift my arms.

"Could be?" Another male voice grunted. "It was most likely washed down by the river."

"Hmm," the original man was unconvinced. "I suppose."

Distantly, another voice called out. My teeth gritted, unbidden tears forming on my lashes as I wondered exactly how many of them there were. I hated feeling this helpless, especially when I had spent the last five years reclaiming my confidence, reclaiming my strength. I had flaunted it, but had I truly ever been strong when in a situation like this, I was unravelling.

I heard them moving around for what seemed like an age, before the footsteps started back to where I could dimply here horses and other men talking.

I released a rattling, relieved breath as my chest burned and the sound pitched like a high whistle. Teeth gritting, I could only think of one word. 'Shite'

"Wait!" A man called out aggressively. "Did you hear that?"

"No? We need to go A—"

The heavy tread of boots came closer, sand and stone crunching under the weight of this male. I saw a shadow loom over me, and my hands were like claws in the sand now as I tried to glare up at them as if my bruised, broken body was in any way intimidating.

"By the ---"

The shadow fell as the man dropped to his knees beside me, the shout of his shock ringing back to the others. He loomed over him and I peeked at him, teeth bared. At first, I saw only the thunderous brow smoothing into concern and the broad line of thick shoulders.