Mercy’s Grace

By mid-morning, they reached their destination. Once again, the Jathenites paid them no attention, going about their business of setting up camp and preparing for the other groups. Malkam looked about and estimated that several thousand Jathenites were there - all well-trained, experienced and expert warriors. Why did they need to worry about a handful of exhausted prisoners, all without experience, skill, or in his case, youthful vigor? David would have been the only threat, but thousands of Jathenites? Malkam shook his head. How would they get out alive?
David moaned, bringing all four to his side. He moved his head, and his arms twitched. A half hour later, he was awake but groggy.
Malkam put his arm around Jordan and spoke in her ear. “I want you to do whatever you can to keep him calm and focused, okay? Do not let him talk of Henry or Payden. Keep him focused on you.”
She nodded and moved closer to David’s head. “David,” she whispered. He turned to look at her. “Hi,” she said and smiled. “Sleep well?”
“Was I asleep?” he asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. All night.”
“Oh. It must have been a dream.”
“Must have, whatever it was.”
He closed his eyes. Something wasn’t right. It hadn’t been a dream. What had happened? His head ached too badly for him to have been asleep - naturally. He opened his eyes.
“What’s happened?” he asked.
“Please stay calm,” she whispered, the pleading evident in her voice. “Please.”
“Come here.” He held out his arm, and she curled up beside him, resting her head on his chest. He used his free hand to gently stroke her hair as he looked around as best he could, quickly realizing their situation and curious why he was still alive.
The leader of the group that had brought them there approached. “Good. He’s awake. Come with me.”
Jordan sat up and glared at him. “Listen, Mister, we’re all tired. Can’t you just let us rest for a while?”
He smiled. “Don’t call me ‘Mister.’”
“What should I call you? Jerk?”
Malkam shut his eyes and shook his head, but the man only laughed.
“You may be stupid, little one, but at least you’re bold,” the man said. “Call me Arthur. I’ll let you rest after we’ve talked. Now get up and follow me.”
Malkam and Zachary had to help David to his feet. David clutched his ribs and leaned against Malkam. “I’m sorry for earlier, friend,” David said quietly.
“I’m just glad to see that you’re still in some pain from when I hit you. You hurt my feelings, you know?”
David smiled and put his arm around Malkam. “I promise I won’t give up again. I’ll fight next time.”
“I don’t want there to ever be a next time.”
Malkam helped David walk after Arthur. After a few minutes, he was able to walk on his own. Arthur brought them farther into the crowd. The men glanced their way, but that was as much energy as they spent on their curiosity.
Jordan looked around, making sure to see every face she passed. The Jathenites had been friends with the Djorites for years until the Fashites attacked. How unimportant that friendship seemed to be to them when they did nothing to help. She wanted to look at the faces of these so-called brave men. Her anger grew with each face. Then, through the crowd, she saw a face she knew. She stopped and stared, not wanting to believe: but when she saw him again, she couldn’t hold herself back.
“Payden!” she yelled.