PART 2/4

Seventy five steps along the hallway (Kaneesha had taken one hundred but he had unconsciously corrected the distance for his longer stride), he came to another opening, this one blocked by ill-fitting black stones of a type he didn't recognize. Shifting Kaneesha to rest over one shoulder, he reached forward with his left hand feeling for the lever that would open an adjacent, concealed doorway, allowing him access to the tunnel. Something both slimy and furry with too many feet to count scurried across his fingers. He screamed, his voice echoing along the narrow passage. He almost dropped his load, the one on his shoulder as well as the one in his bowels. Taking a few seconds to recover his composure, he pushed his hand further into the hole, feeling the warm sticky web that was home to whatever had just frightened him. Praying that the children and/or mate of the creature were absent, he closed his eyes and with one sure movement located a smooth piece of wood half his arm length into the crevice. He pushed it down and heard the squeak of a little used door opening to his right. He wedged the door open with one foot and released the lever, feeling the weight of the spring loaded door on his leg.

Just inside the doorway was a steep set of wooden stairs leading downwards to the dark, smelly tunnel. Near the first step were three or four rough looking candles, a half dozen fire-sticks hanging from a cord on the back of the door. Taking a candle he struck one stick against the stone wall. A flickering yellow flame was created and he lit the candle, puffs of black smoke disappearing into the dark once they had escaped the light. He negotiated the stairs without incident, his mistress only a slight weight on his shoulder. Reaching the bottom, he found himself standing in ankle-deep stagnant water that was covered in a film of slimy scum. The smell was the worst thing he encountered, reeking of animal waste and death. He tried not to breathe too deeply and envied Kaneesha's luck at being spared the stomach churning stench. During the journey towards the far end of the tunnel, he felt his feet and legs brushed by unknown creatures, the feel of scales and wet fur forcing him to hurry as much as he could.

A pinpoint of light up ahead and to his left captured his attention. When he reached it and held the candle up for a better view, all his fears about being dinner for some water-thing vanished, leaving him stunned and swaying on his cold legs.

He was looking into a lavishly appointed room filled with thick, luxurious rugs and furs. Precious gems and gleaming metal reflected the morning sun that shone through large floor to ceiling windows that made up the furthermost wall. The walls to his left and right almost overflowed with the heads of many different animals killed in hunts, dark, almost black blood still coated many of the pelts. Bear and lion and panther stared at him from their final resting places, their eyes frozen in the fear they experienced as death claimed them. He even saw a legendary unicorn, a mythical beast he was sure no longer existed. A magnificent looking buck, it's proud head crowned with massive antlers, its eyes clear pools of blue, looked down over a massive bed. Huge, candle filled chandeliers were suspended from the ceiling and from the few places on the walls free from animal heads.

On elaborately carved tables sat plates of rotting, maggot infested food. Swarms of flies circled above the remains of some incredible feast, occasionally landing and burrowing into enough meat and fruit and pastries to feed a small village for months. Had anything been in his stomach, he would have vomited.

The only other occupants in the room were in much worst condition than the stuffed animals. Restrained face-down on the bed with chains on wrists and ankles was a body of about his age, its once plump ass raised on pillows as an offering to an absent master. He was unable to tell if it was male or female, as it consisted of mainly skin and bones, it's back covered with blackened welts. Another person, this one clearly female by the huge sagging breasts, was tied to a chair barely six feet from the life saving meal placed so close yet forever out of reach.

Morten struggled to think who had set up the cruel feast, not believing any of the Royal Family could be so evil as to starve their own slaves. Then he remembered the night Kaneesha told him of the tunnel's existence and what she had witnessed. Her elder brother, Lord Jaxtar, heir to the throne and wealth of Carteria, raping a young slave. A boy of just eight or so summers restrained in the same way as the body he could see on the bed. Jaxtar had taken his pleasure and then reached down between the boy's legs. Kaneesha had been unable to see his next movements, but an inhuman scream of agony told her that something horrible was occurring. Jaxtar had sat upright, a small curved blade in one hand and a bloody piece of flesh in the other, a growing pool of blood under the slave staining the pristine white sheets.

She had related this terrifying sight after several nights of violent nightmares after which she would restrain him in a similar manner, using him purely for her own pleasure, not caring if he achieved release. Indeed many times she purposely left him tied up for hours after, coming to him, time and time again to satisfy her own urges, until he was left with aching, swollen balls.

Probing her mind in a desperate attempt to understand her uncharacteristically violent behavior, he had discovered that she was imagining someone else in his place, a stranger with dark hair and hazel eyes, years older than himself. That was when he knew she would co-operate in the dangerous ritual to summon Fox into their world. Of course, she would have to think the whole idea was hers, with Morten merely being a path, a conduit, to connect her and Fox.

Kaneesha stirred in his arms bringing him back to the present and forcing him to turn away from the peephole to continue the journey through the tunnel. A short time later he came to another set of stairs. He extinguished the candle and ascended the steps, his mistress now heavy over his shoulder. He lifted a trapdoor at the top and pushed Kaneesha through the opening, pulling himself up into a clothes filled closet, racks and racks of luxurious gowns in all the colors of the rainbow, rows and rows of shoes lined up underneath.

Lifting Kaneesha once more, he carried her to the bed he so often shared with her and laid her down on top of the feather filled blanket. Crossing to the hearth in the corner of the room, he started a fire for heating bathing water, knowing his mistress would awaken wanting to be bathed and fed, his normal morning routine taking over, leaving his overactive imagination to wonder about coming punishments for his failure to summon Fox.

**********

WOODSGLEN, CARTERIA
Dawn

Mulder was awoken out of a dream-filled half-slumber (no worse than he had enjoyed back home on his couch) by cold water splashing on his head and down his shoulders. He looked up and gasped in surprise when he saw a face looking at him, backlit by soft, pink light from the dawn sun.

"Sam? Is that you?"

The girl pulled back abruptly, a look of trepidation on her young face.

"How did you know my name?" she asked in a slightly trembling voice.

He was now fully awake and aware once more of his predicament.

"Is that your name—Sam?"

"It´s Samarrah, but Ma always called me Sam. She said I shoulda been birthed as a boy, the ‘mount of trouble I get in."

Fox couldn´t help smiling. Samantha was a tom-boy too, always following him around, wanting to go fishing or climb trees.

Samarrah held a small cloth sack in one small hand and seemed to be debating what to do next. Seeing the smile on Mulder´s weary face made up her mind. She opened the neck of the sack and Mulder was again assaulted by tantalizing, mouth-watering smells. Her head tilted to one side and she froze, eyes half closed, as if listening to, or for, someone.

"Did the devil-man tell you my name?" she asked seriously, one hand buried inside the sack.

Mulder was certain that his next, or maybe last, meal depended on his answer. He thought briefly of lying, but the knowledge that she was doing something that could earn herself punishment, an effort that reminded him of countless times when Samantha sneaked food up to his room after some minor misbehavior brought the wrath of their father down on him, convinced him to be truthful to her.

"No, I was dreaming about a little girl that looked a lot like you. I was just confused, I didn´t mean to scare you." He shifted, trying to take some strain from his aching shoulders. His hands and feet were numb, the rope restricting circulation to the former and the icy water freezing the latter.

He looked up once again and gave her his best hurt puppy dog look that never failed to soften any female´s heart, regardless of age.

A genuine smile transformed her face, lighting up warm hazel eyes and emphasizing the dimples on her chin.

"You must be hungry. I know that Darin didn´t feed you as Dada ordered."

Before he could reply, she pulled out her hand, revealing several small hunks of still-warm meat and a soft bread roll. She knelt down, lying on her stomach over the lid and put one thin arm through the lattice. Even at full stretch, her hand, and the food in it, was still more than a foot away from his open mouth. He didn´t have the strength in his arms to raise himself even one inch. A determined look came over Samarrah´s features and she lifted herself up and disappeared from his limited field of vision. Mulder could hear her rummaging around and then she was above him once more, the offered food stuck - kebab-style- on one end of a long stick. This she lowered into his cell and held it steady as he greedily ate the meat, it´s juices running down his stubble-covered chin. She repeated the maneuver with the bread roll, and was rewarded for her efforts and ingenuity with a throaty burp from Mulder that had her giggling out loud. A long handled wooden ladle was lowered next and even though most of the water ended up soaking his already wet turtle-neck shirt, he managed to swallow enough to satisfy his thirst.

Just as he was about to offer his thanks and gratitude, loud voices coming closer caused Samarrah to quickly scramble to her feet and vanish from sight. Moments later, Mulder saw two shadows just on the edge of his vision. The rocks were removed from the hole´s lid and it was wrenched upward, pulling Mulder up as well into Darin´s waiting hands. He was dragged out of the hole and dumped on the almost frozen ground. Feeling came swiftly back into his numb extremities in the form of agonizing daggers of pain starting at his stiff shoulders and quickly spreading along his arms. He got the worse case of pins-and-needles he could ever remember having as he was pulled to his feet, his hands still bound, the end of the wet rope now held in one meaty fist of his guards. His legs could not hold his weight and he collapsed to his knees, earning a lightening quick kick to his stomach from Darin.

"C´mon man, take it easy, will ya? Do you wanna spend a night in the hole cos you bruised Steven´s prize catch? He´s expecting him back in one piece." As he spoke, he put an arm around Mulder and lifted him to his feet, supporting his body, even taking the rope from Darin, who just glared at him and strode off towards the center of the settlement.

The village was coming to life, cooking fires being lit, the few animals fed, cows milked, eggs collected. Everyone seemed to have assigned tasks and they carried them out in a relaxed manner, talking and laughing. The large central bonfire was soon blazing brightly, and Mulder saw three or four men arranging sides of meat over the flames. In the morning light, Mulder could see a few destroyed buildings dotted throughout the community, the scars of recent fires clearly visible in the debris. This sight sparked something in Mulder and he turned to the man who was leading him at a slow pace towards Steven´s house.

"One of the men last night spoke of needing to buy grain and wood for repairs. Why not use wood from the forest? There´s more than enough there. You could even clear some and plant the grain."

His escort looked at him as if he was crazy, as if he had started speaking gibberish. He stopped and scanned the area around them, as if to make sure that he wouldn´t be overheard.

"You must come from a very strange place indeed. The whole forest and everything in it belongs to Lord Gareth. That includes us and now you I s´pose. He owns everything as far as the eye can see, and somehow he knows if something, a tree or deer, is taken beyond the assigned quotas. I´ve heard that there are demons in the woods that watch us and report back to Master Rajiv."

Matthew stopped talking as they came closer to the large bonfire where most of the people had congregated, talking in small groups and preparing the morning meal. Over to one side several women were placing small packages and various fruits into small cloth sacks identical to Samarrah´s. A few hide pouches had been filled with water and these were carried over to where the horses were currently having saddles and bridles fitted.

Matthew and Mulder came to a stop outside Steven´s hut. The door opened a short time later and Steven appeared in the doorway, a small leather pouch tied around his waist and stepped outside. He was followed by his two deputies, neither paying the least bit of attention to Mulder as if he had ceased to exist overnight.

Steven glanced once at Mulder and walked passed him and Matthew towards the bonfire. Bowls of food were handed around, a young girl of about fifteen bringing one over to where Matthew stood, still holding onto the rope attached to Mulder. Taking the bowl in one hand, he placed the other on Mulder´s right shoulder and whispered in his ear.

"Sit down quietly and eat. This may be your last chance to rest for days."

Mulder complied although he desperately wanted to talk further with Matthew. He was bursting with questions, wanting to know more about the regions politics and history. Most of all he wondered why Matthew treated him as a human being when to everyone else he was no better than the cattle locked up in the pens. Accepting the meal, which reminded him of porridge that he´d eaten in the Oxford cafeteria, he mouthed a silent thank-you and began eating.

At a long wooden table, the senior members of the community discussed the coming days plans. Jakob and Steven were again involved in a heated discussion concerning the stranger whose fate had been sealed the night before.

"I don´t think it is necessary for you to go to Gilliania today. We´ve all heard the reports of bandits attacking travelers, stealing livestock and goods. And with the annual quotas due, there are those who would steal what we have worked hard all year to produce. It´s too much of a risk."

Murmuring voices agreed with Jakob´s concerns. Steven looked around the table for signs of support. He didn´t find many apart from Darin and his friends. They had actually volunteered to accompany the group, to guard the prisoner. This had Steven suspicious, given Darin´s willingness to solve problems with his fists rather than his head and the fact that Darin had never volunteered for anything that looked like hard labour.

"I disagree. We have valuable cargo that must be delivered as you made clear last night. It would be safer for myself and one or two others to go through the woods rather than the usual roads. I know a way that will have us at the yards before nightfall. The smaller the group, the faster we can travel. All of you trusted my judgment enough to elect me as your leader, and I´m asking you to trust me now."

Steven pushed his bowl away and rose from the table, making his way over to Matthew and the captive. He still had not fully accepted that Mulder could be as dangerous as Jakob and the others believed. He had shown no signs of aggression since his capture, and Matthew had related how he had quietly accepted being confined during the night. Even when provoked by Darin he did not retaliate. Steven wished he could talk to Mulder, learn more about where he came from and who he was. But such insight was now out of his reach, or soon would be.

Steven didn´t think anyone, regardless of their circumstances or crime, deserved to be sold into lifelong servitude, the very idea of it sickened him. Stories and rumors had circulated for many years that entire villages simply vanished overnight, hundreds of men, women and children never being seen or heard from again. The old folk, still preferring their myths, legends and superstitions, believed ancient powerful gods had cast judgment on these sinners and disbelievers, destroying their homes in an attempt to rid the world of them. The truth, as Steven suspected, was more horrifying. Just as his own village had to supply an annual quota of timber and other goods, in order to buy grain and livestock, traders from other parts of the barony were paid handsomely to deliver men and women to Imram, Lord´s Gareth's SlaveMaster, at the yearly market fair that was held in Gilliania. The overseers never questioned where the future slaves had come from, as long as they were healthy and plentiful. Steven didn´t think it was a coincidence that as market day drew closer, bandit raids and village destructions increased, making even short journeys dangerous.

He had no hard evidence as to what would happen to Mulder once he was handed over to Captain Rajiv but he didn´t think it would be a pleasant life for the young man. He had stayed up late last night trying to convince his advisors and the elders that Mulder presented no danger to the community, in fact much could be learned from him. To his despair they had threatened to strip him of leadership and banish him, cast him out from his life-time home and family. Even his own father had sided with Jakob and Roland against him, saying that only a false, weak leader would dare to disobey or question the Law. In the end he had no choice but to agree with their decision. He had made it clear, however, that he would take the prisoner to market, that as leader, it was his duty. Secretly, he was hoping to protect the young man from further abuse from his people, maybe even provide information that may prepare Mulder for what lay ahead. Although he did not show any outward signs of fear, Steven imagined that he must be terrified, for he knew that he would be if he was in a strange land with no idea about the people who populated it, what their customs were, what was considered right and wrong.

Three hours later and the party of four were deep inside the forest, sunlight barely showing through the thick leafy canopy. Darin was in the lead, a large bow and a quiver full of arrows strung across his back and a curved machete in his right hand. Jakob had insisted that he accompany Steven as he was their best archer, quick and deadly accurate, even at long distances.

About thirty yards further back was Mulder, his hands bound to the saddle´s pommel, his feet secured to the stirrups, with Steven squeezed into the saddle behind him. The horse they rode navigated the rough terrain with a sure-footedness that spoke of many generations of careful, selective breeding. Mulder recognized a variety of species; ferns and creepers; magnolias of every shade of color and dozens of types of palms ranging in size from barely knee-high to massive specimens that towered over the rider´s heads with table-sized fronds that completely blocked out light where they met overhead. However these were outnumbered by the many unfamiliar plants and bushes as well as the fauna that lived in and under them. Mulder could see numerous brightly colored birds, could hear their calls, whoops and whistles. The sights, sounds and smells were unlike anything he could recall seeing back home.

*These guys could make a fortune out of eco-tourism...Wait a minute... I´m on my to way to being sold at auction to the highest bidder in God knows where and I´m thinking of alternative career possibilities? Maybe I hit my head harder than I thought.*

Mulder turned slightly, hoping to discover Matthew´s position, however his view was blocked by his current guard. He could hear him however, somewhere behind and to his left.

"How much further?" Mulder asked quietly, hoping Steven would be forthcoming with some useful information, anything that he could use to his advantage. Steven had been a wealth of knowledge during the last hour or so, but none of it was what he particularly wanted to hear.

Once they arrived in Gilliania, he would be handed over to Rajiv or one of his Knights. The other men and women unfortunate enough to be captured by the roaming bands of traders and bandits would be presented for inspection and valuation by Lord Gareth´s senior overseer. Very few slaves were ever rejected, only those who were so badly injured during capture or escape attempts that they weren´t worth the rags they wore. Prices paid were non-negotiable and most sellers who wished to continue doing business with the Royal family accepted the terms without argument. Steven guessed Mulder would be handled more harshly than the slaves, given his unknown origins and the fact he was carrying forbidden items. He had debated whether to reveal the time-keeper at all, thinking it´s existence would only mean more danger for his prisoner who had touched some place inside he didn´t know existed, a place where he felt concern for the young man´s future and once again deep regret for his own actions in creating that hellish future. However he was certain that Darin would draw attention to Mulder if he kept quiet.

He was jerked out of his musings by Mulder´s question. Stretching his stiff arms, he dropped the reins and exercised his fingers and wrists. Foxfire, named for his fire-orange mane and tail, never altered his steady gait, finding the best way through the dense foliage.

"Um, less than a quart-day. We´re more than half-way there, though I don´t suppose that pleases you any. I´m sorry I can´t offer you better news. If it was my decision alone, I would have been more than happy to welcome you into my home, but I have the well-being of many in my hands, deformed as they are." Steven noticed that Mulder no longer sat so upright, a visible slackness revealing his sense of hopelessness. There was nothing he could do or say that would relieve Mulder of his despair and helplessness. He could not give him any insight into what might happen once he was handed over for trial. He wasn´t even sure if Mulder would be kept alive; those in charge may well decide he was too dangerous, an unknown quantity. Far too often there were public executions in the main square in Gilliania, more in the last four years than the previous twenty.

A dozen horse-lengths ahead, Darin scanned the terrain, searching for danger, in either animal or human form. An unfamiliar sound grabbed his attention, and he turned his head in the direction from which it came, urging his mount on at a slightly quicker pace. Stopping at the top of a steep drop, he glanced down and discovered the origin of the rumbling roar. Not too far below, a fast flowing river occupied a narrow canyon where only two double moons before there had been a dry river bed. The remains of a wood and rope bridge hung on each side of the river, logs and beams that had once provided passage across the gap, now laying half submerged, being tossed this way and that by the swift current. Darin searched a little way in each direction, looking for a suitable crossing point. Finding a couple of slim possibilities, he headed back to where Steven had just emerged from the forest. Matthew came into view a short time later.

Darin rode up to his leader, a determined look on his tanned face.

"The bridge must have collapsed during the last storm, the current´s pretty strong but we should be able to cross a little further downstream." Darin pointed to his left, but his piercing gaze never left Mulder. He neither trusted nor liked him. The sooner he was handed over to Rajiv´s men, the happier Darin would be.

Steven dismounted and headed in the direction Darin had indicated. The bank was steep but he thought they could get down to the river. Hopefully the water wouldn´t be too deep, for Steven knew of no other suitable crossings that didn´t involve lengthy detours and delays. He returned to the group and began undoing the ropes that secured Mulder´s feet, ignoring Darin´s concern about releasing the prisoner. He helped Mulder off Foxfire, Darin grabbing his upper arm in a painful grip before his feet hit the ground.

"Matthew, you and Darin take the horses down to the river. I´ll see to the prisoner. He won´t try anything." Steven ordered, freeing Mulder´s hands from the saddle but still keeping them bound. Darin reluctantly released his hold and gathered up the reins, leading the two horses toward the bank.

Mulder followed Steven, not resisting at all. He thought he may have gained his captor´s trust and did nothing to jeopardize the only too fragile relationship. Darin and Matthew were about halfway down the steep incline, their horses handling the conditions with ease. The two men continually lost their footing on the slippery slope and were covered in mud, small twigs and leaves by the time they reached the bottom. Steven and Mulder made it down much slower, due to the older man´s bad leg.

Steven decided to rest and have a small meal of meat, fruit and bread, washed down with the refreshing spring water. They ate in silence, lost in individual thoughts.

Ten minutes later they had successfully crossed the river, for though it was fast flowing, it wasn´t deep, barely reaching waist height. It was while they were negotiating the other bank when disaster struck.

Matthew and Darin had managed to get the horses up the rise, however in doing so they destroyed what small path had existed, leaving an almost vertical drop, with tree roots exposed. Steven had released Mulder´s raw, chafed wrists, but he wasn´t entirely free, a rope around his waist linking him to his captor. About half-way up, Steven reached to grab the only root close enough. It held his weight for a few seconds before snapping under the strain and sending him and Mulder tumbling to the freezing water below. Mulder surfaced a minute or two later, gasping for breath and began swimming toward the side, before the rope jerked him to a stop a dozen yards from safety. Looking back and down he could see a faint outline of Steven´s body still under the muddy water, the rope tangled around a submerged log. He fumbled with the rope, hoping to free himself. The knot however was at his back, and securely tied, the now soaking wet line immune to the frantic attempts of his numb fingers to manipulate the strands. The place they had fallen was slightly downstream from where they had crossed and here the water was much deeper. Mulder had tried to stand, but his feet failed to reach the muddy bottom.

With a look upwards and plea for help to his other captor´s, he took a deep breathe and dove under the swirling water, unable to see his own hands in front of him. He felt with those hands instead, following the thick rope downwards, until he intercepted Steven. He tried to pull him free but the rope was hopelessly tangled, wedging him under the log four or five feet from the surface. His oxygen-starved lungs were screaming to be filled and Mulder had no choice but to abandon his rescue and head towards the filtered light above. As he surfaced again, he saw Matthew descending the drop using the exposed roots, ignoring the danger of repeating Steven´s mistake, Darin´s machete held firmly between his teeth. He reached the ground, shed his heavy coat and immediately dove into the water, making his way to Mulder´s position.

"He´s tra... trapped down below... the rope´s stuck... I couldn´t free him." Mulder tried to explain as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air. His lips were turning blue from the cold and he was shivering uncontrollably, his brain already cutting blood flow to his feet and hands to protect the more vital organs. Without even thinking, Matthew grabbed the saturated rope in one hand and began cutting it with the sharp blade. To his surprise, Mulder did not flee when the connection was broken. He quickly dove once more under the water and Matthew followed. Together they were able to cut Steven free, rising to the surface with the lifeless body between their arms. They swam to the bank, crawled out and collapsed, Mulder exhausted and dangerously close to hypothermic shock. Matthew had had the presence of mind to discard his fur lined coat before he had entered the water, and this he placed over Mulder. Mulder sat up and moved to where Steven lay face down and rolled him onto his back.

Matthew stood up and shouted to Darin, who had not moved during the drastic ordeal taking place below him.

"Get all the rope you can, tie it to the horses and lower it down." He didn´t look to see if his orders were being obeyed, just sent a quick silent prayer to his childhood god that Darin would assist them. He returned his attention to Mulder and Steven, shocked and utterly confused by what he saw. Mulder was kneeling next to Steven, his arms outstretched, his hands clamped in a fist, pushing down on the still man´s chest. This he did a few times then he bent over Steven´s face, tilted his head back and placed his mouth over Steven´s as if to kiss him. He watched in amazement as Steven´s chest rose once. Mulder returned to his original position over the chest and repeated the whole process three or four times until a spluttering noise came from his patient. He quickly turned him on his side, ignoring the many questions Matthew was bombarding him with. Once he was sure that Steven was breathing on his own, he sat back, not really thinking about anything in particular, just glad to be alive.

"What in the Goddess´s name did you do? Hans was right, you are the devil´s servant. No-one can bring the dead back from his clutches." Matthew had stepped back from Mulder, totally unsure of how dangerous he was, what other mysterious powers he may be hiding.

Mulder looked wearily at Matthew. "It was something I learnt during my training. There´s really nothing bad or evil about it. His heart had stopped and he wasn´t breathing, but that doesn´t mean he was dead. Where I come from, we have machines that can read the activity of a person´s brain."

Matthew looked at him, obviously not believing or even understanding what he was being told.

Mulder continued, "All I did was to keep his blood circulating and air in his lungs until his heart started beating again by itself. It´s something that anyone can learn to do, even young children are taught how to do it."

Just then a rope descended from above and Darin peered over the drop.

"Send Mulder up first. I don´t trust him or you," he shouted as he studied the scene below. An arrow was chocked and it was pointed directly at Mulder. Darin knew he could score a direct hit to his heart and he almost hoped that the man would try to escape. He could do with a live target to practice on.

Steven had just regained consciousness, Mulder and Matthew helping him to his feet and toward the rope. They saw a large loop of rope and were about to place it around Steven´s chest when an arrow came shooting down, landing right at Mulder´s feet.

"You know not to test my aim, Steven. Now do as I said or the next one won´t miss. I want his hands tied."

Matthew and Steven looked at each other, both knowing that Darin could kill all three of them in the blink of an eye if he wished. They turned to Mulder with a look that told him they were not willing to risk their lives for a stranger, especially one who showed abilities they associated with the devil. He held his hands out and once more allowed them to be tightly bound, the rope already cutting into his tender flesh. The loop of rope was placed around his chest, sitting snugly under his shoulders. As soon as it was set, Darin began pulling from above and Mulder used his feet to climb up the bank. At the top he was dragged roughly over the edge and dumped at Darin´s feet. Mulder made no attempt to stand, he still hadn´t recovered from saving Steven. Darin bent over to remove the makeshift harness and Mulder made his move. He kicked out with both feet, catching the other man squarely in the chest, sending him flying back to land close to the edge. Mulder was up in an instant. He removed the rope whilst Darin was still on his back and sprinted for the hopeful safety of the forest. He had covered probably twenty yards when a white hot rod of pain entered his right leg, in the meatiest part of his thigh just above his knee. He managed to stagger another five yards before collapsing, his whole leg alight with pain. He sensed a shadow come over him, but didn´t have the energy to open his tear-filled eyes. He didn´t need to know that it was Darin who took a handful of hair and began dragging him back towards where the horses were tethered to a tree, quietly grazing. He was barely conscious when his captor sat him upright against a small tree and tied a long length of rope impossibly tight around his chest, the rough bark digging into his back.

Both men heard a piercing scream as they waited for the rope to be lowered. Matthew wanted to scramble up the side, knowing that Mulder would possibly die. He didn´t know why he wanted to go to the man´s aid, something inside telling him that he should. He had saved Steven´s life, brought him back from the reaper´s deadly hands. Steven had been like a father to Matthew, ever since he was found wandering in the forest, alone and hungry, a child of just five or so who had witnessed his entire family being massacred by a pack of bandits. He had raised him as his own, teaching him to hunt, to ride, to use the various plants from the forest to heal wounds.

"Matty, don´t." Steven put a weak hand on his shoulder, though he knew he didn´t have the energy to hold the younger man back from his foolish act. "He´s either dead already or will be by the time you get up there. And what happens if you fall? There´s nothing you or I can do to stop Darin. You know what his temper is like."

He looked deeply into Matthew´s brown eyes, praying that his words of advice would penetrate. Matthew glanced once more toward the forest and stepped back, his shoulders slumped in defeat. Steven had sat down again, trying to conserve his energy. Matthew joined him, telling him of the miracle Mulder had performed to bring him back to life. Steven was astounded at the story, wondering if Matthew was making it up in order to gain sympathy for Mulder.

"Did Darin see what you saw?"

"I don´t know. I think he was busy preparing the rope. Why do you ask?" he asked as he placed the coat Mulder had discarded around Steven´s shoulders.

"I don´t want you to say anything about what you saw to Darin or Captain Rajiv. I´ve got a feeling that the less they know about Mulder, the better it will be for him. I´ll have to reveal the time-keeper because Darin saw it and he won´t hesitate to add to Mulder´s punishment."

The rope reappeared over the side and Matthew helped Steven to his feet, placing the loop over his arms and tightening it around his chest. He slowly ascended the cliff, Darin doing most of the work pulling from above.

Matthew grabbed the line as soon as it was free and quickly pulled himself hand over hand towards the top. Only when he was pulling himself over the edge did he realize he had left the machete behind, lying on the muddy bank below. Not that it would have been of much help in the situation that confronted him when he rolled over and sat up.

Darin was standing next to the horses, in front of a slim tree, a still body just visible behind him. Steven was facing him, trying to get a look at the injured man, talking in a calm voice, hoping to reason with Darin.

"If you don´t let me treat that wound he will die and this whole trip will be worthless, a waste of your time and mine." Steven didn´t turn around though he heard Matthew come up beside him.

"Why are you so concerned about whether he lives or dies? He attacked your own father, he pulled you off the cliff, hoping to kill you and yet you want me to free him, to give him a chance to finish off the job?" Darin´s voice rose in tone as he spoke, anger and hatred clearly evident.

"I´m doing this in the interest of our village and the people who depend on me ..on us.. to provide for the coming winter. We´ll be lucky to receive enough reward to last till next double moon. We are already short of our quota for this season. Do you think Captain Rajiv or Master Imram is going to take pity on us and release us from our tithe because you can´t control your temper?"

Darin just glared at his leader, not saying anything, having no answers to Steven´s argument. He stepped aside allowing access to Mulder who had started groaning in agony, shifting his leg in a useless attempt to find a less painful position. Going over to his horse, he emptied one of the food sacks which he dropped at Steven´s feet.

"That goes on him and stays on him til we reach Gilliania or I´ll slit his throat where he lays." He stormed off, not looking back.

CONTINUED