CHAPTER 10: The men in the woods

Morwen

Deciding against getting a horse to conserve money, they walked. Using the main road to travel by. It was busy with traffic; many others came and went using the same path. Though Morwen's body still ached, she walked with a bounce in her step, giddy with anticipation of seeing the sea. Her mind ran wild with visions of what it might look like.

Travelling by road was far easier than going through the mountains. They travelled slowly, in no hurry. Giving their bodies breaks to rest when needed.

While Morwen was resting near the road, she spotted something red poking through the trees in the distance. It looked like a fruit. Her mouth watered at the thought. She got up from where she was sitting on the ground, running excitedly over to investigate. Past the trees lining the road was a grove of cherry trees, like a sea of green littered with red. Morwen grabbed the fruits in handfuls, filling her mouth. Sweet juices burst on her tongue. She could eat herself sick. They tasted so good.

Not long after, a familiar voice broke through her cherry-induced euphoria. Morwen turned to Zack, her cheeks full. He was staring at her in disbelief. She tried to say something but couldn't, her mouth too full to speak. She swallowed hard, the sweet taste lingering on her tongue. Zack climbed up into a tree to eat the more ripened fruits.

"I'm in heaven!" he stated, his mouth full of cherries. Juice dripped down his chin when he talked.

She was too focused on the cherries to form a coherent response, Morwen made a noise of approval. By the time Morwen had eaten her fill, her face and shirt were stained with red and purple blotches. Her hands were sticky from the juice, a visible testament to their indulgence. Satiated and content, she sat down under a cherry tree, leaning back against its sturdy trunk.

Too distracted to notice a group of men entered the orchard, plucking cherries as they approached Morwen. They had a rough appearance, their clothes coated with dirt and well worn from travel. Their rugged faces wore expressions of mischief, their eyes glinting with an unsettling gleam.

The man in the centre of the group spoke, his voice rough and deep, "It's been a long time since I've had a decent meal. I hope you don't mind sharing."

"What's a pretty little thing like you doing here all alone?" the man on the left asked, his voice dripping with a sly taunt, as he plopped a cherry into his mouth.

The others chuckled, their laughter imbued with a sense of predatory satisfaction. Morwen's heart fluttered nervously in her chest, fear enveloped her. Zack jumped down from the tree, landing between Morwen and the men.

"She is not alone, you filthy toad," Zack spat, his voice laced with unrestrained anger. "Walk away."

The men exchanged a wicked grin, their amusement unfaltering.

"I don't think so, little boy," the one in the middle spoke, his voice raspy, his words dripping in a mocking tone. "You see, my friends and I have been alone on the road for a very long time. And we've been craving something… sweet."

The man's predatory gaze slid across Morwen's trembling figure, settling on her delicate form. Fear clutched at her throat, paralysing her vocal cords. Her mind screamed for her to run.

The men advanced, their pace slow and calculated. Zack clenched his fists, his body taut with tension. 

"I'm feeling generous today, I might even pay you for ten minutes with her," the man's voice saturated with an unspeakable desire. The vileness of his words hung heavy in the air, like a putrid stench. The man licked his lips suggestively. They all laughed, showing rotting toothy smiles. Morwen had stood up and was slowly creeping further behind the tree, Her body shaking with terror.

The man closest to Morwen lunged, grabbing her arm. She struggled against his iron grip, her body writhing helplessly. Zack, fueled by a burning fury, reached for his sword handles. The men reacted, drawing their weapons.

Morwen managed to free herself, dashing out of his reach. Turning back to look at Morwen, Zack held her eyes for half a second.

Without hesitation, Zack bellowed, "Run!" His voice vibrated with urgency, his expression filled with fear.

Morwen read his unspoken words, her heart pounding in sync with the chaos around her. She took off through the trees.

Not having time to watch her go, Zack drew his sword, raising them up as a wave of adrenaline coursed through his veins. His heart pounded in his chest as he braced himself for the impending attack. Surrounded, he silently prayed that the odds would be in his favour. 

One of the men broke away from the group, chasing after Morwen. Unable to stop him, Zack knew he had to focus on the two remaining assailants. The first man, a knife in hand, came charging at him. Swinging his right arm down with all his might, Zack managed to land a lucky blow to the man's chest. The force of the strike sent the man stumbling backward, blood gushing from the wound. He fell to the ground, clutching his chest in agony, a gurgled scream trapped in his throat.

mortified at the sight of what he had just done, Zack stumbled back, his mind spinning with a whirlwind of emotions. He had never taken a life before, and the weight of that realisation threatened to suffocate him. A sword swung through the air, snapping him out of his daze. Reacting instinctively, he tried to block the weapon with his less dominant arm.

With a resounding clash, the blades collided, and the force of the impact sent Zack's short sword flying out of his hand. Barely dodging the imminent blow, he tripped over a protruding root and fell backward into the dirt. Pain shot through his body, as the attacker swung again, with lethal aim.

The edge of the blade sliced across his bicep. Blood poured from the deep wound, the metallic smell filling the air. Clutching his bleeding arm, Zack winced.

The man grinned at him, his eyes alight with the thrill of the fight.

"It's not often that a whelp such as yourself stands up to me, but I'm sure your corpse will bring in enough coin."

Zack's survival instincts kicked in, and he scrambled back on all fours, his muscles screaming in protest. He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth, tasting the metallic tang of fear. If he wanted to live through this, he knew he had to acquire better sword skills and fast. At this rate, with the odds stacked against him, death seemed all but certain.

Summoning every ounce of courage left within him, Zack struggled to his feet. Clutching his sword with both hands, he lunged forward. Hacking away like a desperate man, he landed a few blows on the relentless attacker, but not without sustaining injuries of his own. Blood trickled down his cheek where the sharp blade had grazed his skin.

It became a battle of skill versus endurance, with each strike of the sword carrying the weight of life and death. Beads of sweat lined the man's brow, his movements growing sluggish with fatigue.

With the last shred of his remaining strength, Zack threw himself at the man, driving his sword deep into the man's abdomen. The man let out a strangled cry, his legs giving way beneath him. The assaulter fell to the ground, lifeless. Zack braced his hands on his knees, sucking in deep breaths. His whole body shook with convulsions as he heaved up his lunch in the dirt. The intensity of the battle had left him feeling drained and disoriented. The nauseating stench of fear and freshly spilled blood filled the air.

Drenched with sweat, Zack mustered the strength to take wobbly steps in the direction Morwen had fled. Gripping his sword tightly. Trembling from exhaustion, he stumbled back and collapsed to the ground. He could feel the coldness of the earth seeping through his clothes. Blood continued to ooze from the wound on his arm, his vision blurred.