Captured by the Picts (Millika's version)

It was a North-West wind forest of Aquilonia. From somewhere far could be heard the voice of fast river. Millika took a flask and opened it expecting to feel a drop of fresh water on her tongue but... it was empty.

- Fine, the river is not far. – Mumbled the woman and walked in the direction of the water sound. The way was long and not as easy as she though. First of all the forest here was very dark and lush with tall roots, lianas hanging from the trees and in some places very tall grass. The light barely reached through the leaves.

Second, Millika got a feeling that someone was watching her. She tried to be careful but she did not see or hear anything or anyone unusual. Just there was something.

Finaly she reached a large open area. It was a sandy beach and fast river with pure sparkling water. She took her boots off and walked by the warm send to fill the water in the flask. After making this and drowning the thirst she lied down on the send and closed her eyes. The warm sun rays filled her with joy. Suddenly a shade appeared. She opened eyes and saw a man standing above. Surprised she jumped up and unsheathed her sword pointing it’s tip on him.

The man jumped back and loudly says:

- Hey wait! Wait!

- Who are you and what you want?

- Don’t be afraid of me, child, I am a pilgrim. – His clothes could confirm his words. Hooded face with a kind expression, dusty grey robe, a walking stick, a sack behind his shoulder. He was about 40 years old and by complexion he could not be called a fighter kind. And the necklace with the sign of Mitra hanging above the robe. The only strange detail she notices was his accent which shown that he was not a native Aquilonian, more like stygian. – I move to the fair city of Tarantia and who are you, where are you going?

- I am going to Geonsar, small town on west and...

- Why would you go there? – She noticed how his face became more serious and even a little grim.

- That is not your business...

- I see, excuse me I just thought you didn’t know that this poor town does not exist anymore...

- What?

- Yes I walked there two days ago and saw the ruins. Many dead bodies burnt and half eaten by wild animals and humans.

- Humans?

- The picts. I also met a group of soldiers this morning who had their way to that hopeless place... they said that picts invaded those lands and kill everyone who they meet. I suggest you to turn back now.

Milika thought a little. She was going to Geonsar for a meeting with a rich client. Several gold coins clearly worth this little adventure through wild forests, what was not a problem for ex-amazon of Nemedian wild mountains. Looks like a nice opportunity to earn some easy shinies failed before the start. She sighted and said:

- You are right... I will go back. You said you are going to Tarantia? – The pilgrim nodded. – Me too, let’s go together than? – He nodded again but this time with a smile.

For about an hour they spent the way talking. The pilgrim to her surprise did not know almost anything about Mitra and his worshipers. He said he was a new believer and was going to Tarantia to study. He also tried to hide his strange accent and when she asked where he was from he proudly named Aquilonia.

But that was not the end of strange things. She noticed that the sun was in the other direction from where it should have been in this hour of day.

- Why are we going North? Shouldn’t we go East now?

- Those lands are dangerous, picts dwell even there now.

- How can you know since you said just an hour ago that you have never been in this part of the land.

- The...the soldiers told me! Remember I told you?

- They told too much to a simple pilgrim don’t you think?

Milika stopped and the pilgrim turned to her. His eyes were running over her and his face looked like he wanted something... something not good at all.

- Don’t be afraid, trust me. I am a humble servant of the most kind of gods. I speak the truth.

But the woman already turned back and started her way in the right, as she though, direction to East. On the way she dropped to him:

- I don’t trust you. Just be... – she did not finish the sentence as the world in front of her eyes faded and suddenly only darkness left around.

The pilgrim stood above her with a small club which he was hiding in his wide sleeve. The woman lied without senses hit by him in the head from behind.

She opened her eyes and tries to focus blur eyesight. Whole body and head were hurting and she felt very uncomfortable. In some seconds she could see everything clear and felt that she was ties with her arms back to a pole. All around could be seen numerous dark skin people. They were dressed in strange clothes decorated with animal and human bones. “Pickts!” flashed a horrific thought in her head.

Suddenly she remembered a game “truth or dare” which took place some days ago in Tesso. That time she asked her friend Aleterus, and the question was “what is your worst nightmare?” His answer was “captured and being cooked alive by pickts”.

It looked like some wicked joke that his nightmare happened for real...but with her.

Milika tried to move arms or legs but couldn’t. They were tied too well to this pole. The same mitra’s servant came close to her. He was smiling and for some reason picts did not touch him.

- Good morning! – He said smiling innocently.

- What is going on? Why they don’t touch you? – She tries to understand if it was some deep and very painful nightmare or a sad reality.

- They don’t because I am not the one you think, “child”! – He removed his hood and Milika could now see that he was a bald stygian. That’s where the accent came from.

- Well... since you are going to die soon I can tell. I help them to reach into this land unnoticed and they help me with my research.

- Research?

- Yes I study picts and their interesting culture. Also I practice sacrificing just like them and just needed a virgin for the next one. I hope you are one?

- I am a courtesan... I am a thousand times not a virgin. – She smiled seeing his disappointed face. However it could not save her...she knew that.

- Shame, shame. But it’s all right. I will sacrifice you anyway. – He walked away and joined a chat with a group of picts on their strange language.

And Milika hanged her head with a grim expression on face. Her life was going to end so soon and in such horrible manner. She understood well that it would be impossible to make a deal of any kind with these savages or with their stygian fanatic friend. She looked around inspecting the place. It was a small camp with tents and huts and by the tops of trees seen from here, it was situated on a high cliff or a hill. On one side of Milika on a pike was pierced a dead body dressed in military armor. On other side another body hanging on a rope with missing legs and hips.

Then a tall pict joined the group where the fake pilgrim was. Other picts bowed to him and Milika guessed it was a chieftain or someone close to him. The newcomer was taller and looked much stronger than all others around him, also his headdress decorated with a good pile of standing up human ribs made him look a very respected among their ranks. He glanced at the tied woman and told something short to the “pilgrim”.

The styigian changed in face and started arguing but when a dagger shone right near his neck he instantly shut up. He looked at her and his face was sad like he just lost something important. At the same time the big pict shown at her as well, said something on his tongue and two of his companions rushed to her and started untying.

- Your luck, wench. Makka the champion wants you as his toy today... – said the stygian with a disappointed voice. – But don’t be too happy about it. He usually gets bored with his slaves in a week not more and then they end up on a plate. – He grinned bitterly and walked away.

Milika had nothing to say. Savages are savages. And she was the unlucky one to taste all the luxary of their society. Two strong men picked her up and dragged into a large hut and as soon as they pushed her inside, they stood near entrance on guard letting Makka to go in.

Several seconds Milika was all alone in this wide hut made of closely tied branches but it was enough to inspect it properly and to understand what was going to happen. In the middle there was a pile of ash of a fireplace and above the hut had a hole for the smoke. Several colorful clothes formed a sleeping place. On left there was a miniature altar with a figurine of a man with crocodile head. Around the altar lied several bones and one of them was a human lower jaw.

Milika felt sick from just the thought how it got here but she had no more time to think about it as her short loneliness was broken by Makka. The big man entered the hut, closed the cloth which served as a door and took off his scary headgear. His face was a one mess of scars, white paintings and big dark eyes.

She tries to smile but almost jumped on place when he said with his loud and low voice:

- Makka! – Pounded his chest and then pointed at her with a question on his face.

- M-Milika... – Mumbled the girl and shivered again when he started laughing. On a very crude Aquilonain he said:

- Sma’t! – And laughed again. She tries to smile again but it just didn’t go well. Then followed his “speech”. He shown on her with word “Serv” then on self “Kind” then on her again “No serv” and on self “eet ye. Serv o’ no serv?”

- Serve than. – She nodded and the pick smiled showing his yellow, almost brown teeth.

Later this day. Or better to say late evening when the sun did not shine on the sky any more and most picts went to sleep, outside the hut could be heard only steps of patrollers and howls of different night creatures. Milika was lying next to Makka. It passed only half an hour since the monster finaly got tired and fell asleep. Her whole body was hurting and itching after his rude hands and close contact with such savage unwashed creature. She felt as disgusted as never ever before. But also she had no choice. He clearly let her know that if he will not like something she is a food.

Milika could not sleep and was just thinking. What to do? Suddenly a hope appeared. The medalion! A magical trinket given by Madame Yaminah to all sisters who work outside of sisterhood city. When used it may instantly teleport the owner to the city, to safety.

Silently, trying not to cause any sounds at all Milika got up and started digging in her cloth... which was torn in pieces by this savage. The trinket was not there. It could mean only that they took it when she was fainted and most likely it could do the fake pilgrim.

A day passed. The schedule of Milika’s life here did not look bright at all – in the morning Makka woke up and rudely took her for another hour. Then he went away to the hunt and she was forced to clean up the camp place after a horrible cannibalistic feast. While with endless disgust she was putting half-eaten animal and human body parts and mangles bones to a sac, the stygian man was sitting near mocking here and telling different stupid things.

- You know, I like them. Damn I wish I was born among them and did not waste five months trying to earn their respect! You know for example about their fun game – crocodile kitchen? I saw it, they take kid from those they capture during their raids, let him go in a special pit then unleash several crocodiles and place bets which will catch the boy and eat the most amount of his limbs.

- You are sick you know?

- No I am fine as they are. And they are fine. It’s just you, silly who hides behind stupid thing called morale. You know for example where I got these robes and mitran trinket?

- No and don’t want to...

- These fellows ate that idiot. Imagine? He was preying and asking his god to save him while was spinning on the fire! Ha ha!

Milika could not stand it any more. For more than half an hour this man was annoying her with his idiotic conversations. He was smacking them and describing with such sadistic pleasure that she decided it was the time for him to shut up. She grabbed the half full sac of remains, lifted it up and landed right on the stygian bald head. The man fell down from such sudden attack and covered his head with hands. Those picts who were watching this scene did not even move to help him. They just watched and laughed pointing fingers.

- Shut up you dog son! Do you think I care about your mad talk? – She was about to swing the sac again but suddenly saw it – the little metal medalion falling out of his pocket.

She dropped the sac and ducked aiming to take the trinket but suddenly got a strong hit in her face. The lying stygian managed to hit her and was now creeping closer with a sign of murder in his eyes. The woman was lying and holding her bleeding cheek and nose when his hands wrapped around her neck and started pushing.

- How dare you touch me stupid bitch! – He yelled and pushed harder. She tries to fight back or scream but could do nothing, she was in a very bad position and could not even hit him properly.

His mad face hanged above her and watched her dying with his blood-filled eyes. But suddenly they widened and he flew up. His hands left her neck and he himself was in the air now. Milika swiftly wiped her eyes and saw how Makka was holding the stygian man in the air with just one hand. The pict placed stygian on his feet, told something rude on his languages and then delivered such strong and fast blow in his face that poor stygian flew away on good three meters. He was rolling on the ground and squealed like a pig holding his broken jaw.

Later that day Milika was sitting in a tent with some old woman. Five minutes ago Makka was explaining her something occasionally pointing at Milika’s broken nose and bleeding cheek. Now after he went away and the old woman was sitting and mixing something in a small pot.

- Makka wants you to be pretty again. – Said the old woman with a strong accent. – This should cure your wounds.

- You talk Aquilonian? How? – The old woman liftet her tired eyes on the young one and answered.

- Easy child... I was not always a pict. I was like you many years ago. Captured but spared because of my beauty and then, after it faded, for my herbal healing skill.

- And this tribe always lived in here? In deep Aquilonia area?

- No we came here several months ago. Don’t know why, they don’t tell me. I am nothing and live only as long as I am useful. That stygian shown them a safe way... Don’t know why but I guess it is somehow connected to their faith. This tribe worships crocodiles and they are searching something connected to this. But that’s just my own thoughts... Oh here we go. – She stopped stirring and put her fingers in the strange dirty green mass in the pot. Then she carefully wiped it over Milika’s wounds. – Next day you will not find any scars at all, this is my personal secret.

Milika smiled sadly but said “thank you” anyway. Before she left the tent the old woman added:

- Always be useful. This is the only way to survive here...

Another day passed. The old healer did not lie, her herbs indeed cured Milika’s face and it was now healthy and without any scars. However Milika was glad to that less than Makka. He did not let her rest for two hours straight in the morning before going to the hunt again.

When he was away she spent time on the “kitchen” peeling vegetables with a blunt knife and watching a huge bowl with a soup. That was such a shame she had to some kind of poison with her, could kill them all...

Suddenly the evil stygian appeared near. Half of his face and the jaw were covered with same dirty green mass. Not paying much attention that she had a knife in her hand he started his stupid talks again. He was threatening her and promised the worst of all deaths and she just kept listening hardly holding from stabbing him. Above, on a hill there were a couple of pict watches.

- If something happens to Makka no one will defend you little slut. I will cut you slowly and painfully. You will be dying in a puddle of your own blood.

- Did anyone tell you how boring you are?

- Don’t be stupid... better believe me and start preying to whatever god you like. They already found the crocodile forgotten temple and tomorrow I will go with them and find what I want. And you... well. I will make sure that Makka will not return from there. – He grinned and leaned back relaxed on a flat stone five meters away from her.

There was something in his words. She did not know what exactly he means with all that nonsense about temples but his voice was very self-ensured. This snake could really do what he told. He was insane and rarely lied always speaking his thoughts out.

- ... And even if Makka will escape my little trap this tribe will move back to Pictish wilderness as soon as we will finish what we came for. I will find a way to get you there don’t doubt.

A serious thought appeared in her head “There is no time to wait anymore. I must act”.

She dropped a potato which rolled on the ground in the direction of sitting stygian, The watchers noticed it but did not pay much attention on her walking after it. She slowly approached to the man and craned down to pick up the vegetable. There were hardly two meters between them and Milika focused on what was going to do. She suddenly ran forward and jumped on the man who did not expect that. The blunt dagger pierced his throat and the blood streamed out. While the man was coughing in agony and the watchers getting down with shouts, Milika very quickly checked every pocket of his robe.

- Where is it you *******?! – She exclaimed desperately feeling how her last chance slips away. Finally the little medalion was in her hand when strong man’s arms grabbed her shoulder and neck. She was pulled back and she tried to activate the amulet but suddenly a hit on her hand made her drop it.

She screamed but it was too late. A pict took the medallion and threw it with force into a stone, blowing it on many pieces. The chance was lost and the woman had nothing more to do as to wait for her doom.

Half an hour passed when Makka and other hunters returned. As soon as he was told what happened he rushed to a pole where already well beaten Milika was tied and without stop hit her in stomach. No need to describe what kind of pain she felt that moment. The air left her lungs for long seconds and the angry pict started swearing and roaring at her on his silly language. The only few words he used during his speech in aquilonian were “bad” which he repeated ten times not less and “eet” which he added in the end.

Milika understood that it was the end for sure. For some reason Makka decided not to bake her alive but to kill first. He took out a knife and moved it to her neck. She closed her eyes expecting pain and death, hoping it will be fast. She felt the cold iron on her skin but it did not move any further for some reason. A short strange sound, screams of other picts and drops of warm blood on her face. All happened in one second.

She opened her eyes and saw that Makka was already lying dead hear her with an arrow in his head. Other picts were running to one direction with weapons in their hands. A couple more fell on the ground pierced by pilums and arrows. A group of men entered the camp and started fighting the picts, pushing them and killing by one. The fight was furious and fast.

Soon in just three minutes no pict remained alive. Milika opened her eyes and saw a man standing in front of her and examining the bodies.

- R...release me please... –The only what she managed to say.

The man turned to her and his eyes widened. Looked like he did not expect to find someone alive here. He had a broken nose covered in numerous scars, short beard and jet black hair.

- Milika?

Hearing her name she tried to focus and suddenly recognized a familiar face.

- Sepherim?...

He rushed to her with a dagger and started cutting the ropes. Her powerless body fell in his arms and she fainted.

Later when the girl woke up the first she felt was the smell of burning flesh. She opened her eyes and saw a huge pile of burning bodies of picts. The men who attacked them were carrying their bodies and throwing in the fire, clearing the area. By their look Milika remembered that they were mercenaries. She turned her head and saw Sepherim sitting near.

- Good that you woke up. How do you feel?

- All hurts...

- I see. You suffered a lot here. So how you got in here?

- Remember our conversation in Sailor’s den? I told that was going to a small journey to the West... So here I am. And why are you here?

- Well. A small town not far from here needed help. After several pict attacks they asked Tarantia to help and the capitol sent it. A month ago the army unit arrived here nad started searching but didn’t succeed. For a week they did not find any picts just left. However picts kept attacking the town in small groups and stealing people.

Then they hired us. We found this camp and destroyed it.

- I see... – she set closer to him and put her head on his shoulder. – I though was dead when someone shot that big pict in the head... he had his knife near my throat this close. – She shown with her finger and crying.

- Oh don’t cry. It’s all over now. You are safe and will come home soon, I promise.

She nodded but did not stop. That were the tears of simple happiness.

They talked a lot on the way back to Tarantia. She described the life among picts and Seph told about how exactly they found that place. The picts in the camp were twenty six total and during fight Sepherim’s unit did not lose a single man dead. Sever got injuries but nothing too serious. The attack plan was very well planned and the trike was sudden and swift.

His people, who were fifteen burnt all bodies of picts they killed. Among them was even the poor old woman who for some reason did not want to betray picts... she became one of them and died as one.

Sepherim never heard about any crocodile temple which the stygian madman was talking about... But that was not the strangest thing. He did not even know about any stygian. The body of a stygian man whom Milika killed with her own hand gone missing and no one knew where it was.

May be the madman survived and is now looking for revenge or may be not. May be we will know the truth in next story. Or may be never. Who knows?