They all turned to face the valley again, and it wasn’t more than a minute later that a group of horses came galloping out of the mass of soldiers and up the dry, grassy hill, their hooves kicking up dust in a cloud.
One of the animals broke away from the rest of the crowd and charged in, the man atop its back dressed in light armor, his golden helm hiding most of his face. But the eyes and mouth made Sera think the guy wasn’t a very happy person. He looked as if he’d run right over them, but he pulled up his horse at the last second, making it rear back on its two hind legs. Then it settled with a loud neigh and the man spoke in a gruff voice.
“You’ve crossed onto forbidden ground. Down on your knees. Now!”
Aristotle obviously intended on taking no such treatment. “Listen to me, young man. We are here to speak to the hegemon. My name is —”
“I don’t care what your name is, old man!” He pulled out a short whip and slashed it through the air, striking the philosopher across the face. Aristotle yelled out in pain, crumpling to the ground.
“Hey!” Sera screamed. “Do you have any idea who that is?”
The man raised the whip again, and Dak and Riq both jumped in front of her, staring up at the fierce soldier. Sera didn’t know if she’d ever seen them do something quite that brave.
The man lowered his arm, but spat, his saliva splashing on all of them. Then he turned to the others who’d come with him. “Tie them up. Gag them. Throw them in the pit. Tomorrow, they hang.”
Then he rode off, leaving his minions to do the dirty work.
EVERYTHING THE jerk of a soldier had said became true, one detail at a time. Dak just hoped that the final order — being hanged — somehow got lost in a loophole. But so far he hadn’t seen any nice genius lawyers in fancy suits walking around.
They had an awful, awful couple of hours after the original soldier disappeared back into the army’s camp. His men dragged Dak and his friends around and stuffed big wads of cloth in their mouths, making it hard to breathe, much less talk. They tied ropes to their bound wrists, then pulled them along behind their horses. Dak stumbled, fell, got dragged, scrambled to his feet, then stumbled and started the whole process all over again. His friends didn’t fare much better. And Aristotle . . .
Seeing what the kind, dignified man went through just about shattered Dak’s heart. They gave him no better treatment, no mercy, no respect. He’d yelled his name successfully a couple of times before the soldiers finally gagged him, and all four of them had moaned and groaned and screamed muffled screams since then. But “Aristotle” and “We’re friends of Alexander” and “We need to save the king” and “I have to use the bathroom” all came out sounding like “Mrrrrph rmmm gurgggggrle rrrrmph.”
It was hopeless.
Tears stung Dak’s eyes as they dragged him over dry grass, dust and dirt, rocks and pebbles, roots and scattered old bones — which he hoped weren’t human. His whole body ached — and his insides felt even worse, watching his friends — by the time they came to a halt at the lip of a giant hole dug into the ground, a roughly rectangular pit in which dozens of people huddled in small groups. Dak saw their terrified eyes, constantly looking up, darting back and forth at the soldiers, probably wondering who’d be the one to finally end their lives.
Dak tried to scream, but it came out as another wimpy muffled moan. He tried to squirm away from the man holding his rope to no avail. He looked at each of his friends — at Sera, at Riq, at Aristotle — hoping that something magical might happen to free them. Desperation and fear boiled in their eyes, as he knew they did in his, too.
The soldiers dragged them to the very edge, then threw them into the pit one by one.
Riq hadn’t cried very often in his life. Not because he was some kind of macho hero dude or anything. He just wasn’t the type.
But something swelled behind his eyeballs, and it sure felt wet. Eventually, to his own surprise, tears trickled down his cheeks. He would’ve wiped them away if his hands had been free, but they were bound tightly with rope. So instead he buried his head into his lap as best he could, and cried a little harder.
He didn’t completely understand why the sorrow racked him so heavily now, of all times. They’d been through plenty of tough days as they’d traveled throughout history, fixing Break after Break. But these soldiers had seemed so harsh. So brutal. So mean. They didn’t discriminate their rough treatment — old man, kids, girl, it didn’t matter to them. Riq was positive that they treated their animals better, especially the horses.
He was so close, yet so far away from winning his war against the SQ. Stuck in a prison pit, ordered to die in the morning, with no way to tell anyone who they were or why they’d come. And even if they did get out of it, what did it matter? Riq had nowhere to go. Dak and Sera would have to leave him behind. Wasn’t he better off dead?
And that was the kicker. That was the truth at the heart of the despair threatening to swallow him up. Sera had been right. He’d preferred the idea of a hero’s death to trying to imagine life without family, friends, and the Hystorians’ mission.
But he wanted to live. He knew that now. He didn’t want to die in this place.
And so, he curled up into a ball as much as possible, and he let himself cry it all out, not caring who saw or heard.
Sera had enough bumps and bruises to last the rest of her life if she had any say in it. But she probably didn’t have much say, and she had a feeling that more would be coming.
Aching and wincing, she’d scooted away from where she’d landed after being tossed into the pit, and finally nestled her back against the wall, finding the most comfortable position possible — considering her wrists were tied behind her back. The cloth stuffed inside her mouth was awful, choking her and making it hard to breathe. Several times she’d had to fight the urge to throw up from a gag reflex. She could only imagine how pleasant that would turn out.
Settling her body, she forced herself to relax. Something would work out, she knew it. They still had the Infinity Ring, a miracle in itself. Maybe the soldiers weren’t planning on searching them for valuables until they came out of the pit. Or maybe they didn’t care, or doubted they had any. Regardless, Sera and her friends had the Ring. And if she could just get her hands free . . .
She struggled a bit but stopped to catch her breath. She took a long look at each of her friends. Riq had curled up into a ball, and she thought his shoulders shook a little. Was he crying? For some reason that hurt worse than the bruises and scrapes. Dak lay on his side, staring at the dirt, breathing slowly and calmly. Aristotle was next to him, sitting up, staring at the edge of the pit as if he expected King Philip or Alexander to appear at any second to rescue them.