Bandit

Losing consciousness because of fainting is preferable to a knockout by a concussive force. Fainting typically lasts a maximum of a few minutes, while a concussion can last hours and makes you miserable for days. At least, this is the case before you strengthen your body to a certain point. When I was young, I took a blow to my head while hunting for a famous alchemist's treasure. The concussion left me bedridden for a week.

I digress— the point is; I woke up a few minutes after fainting. The muddy ground below me sways up and down. The backside of a pair of legs with long, mud-covered boots splatters into it below me. Someone is carrying me backward over their shoulder.

I'll continue to pretend to be unconscious. He can't carry me like this all the way to town. I'll have an attempt to escape when he takes a break. My eyes close tightly.

The pain in my head starts building again. Losing consciousness reset the collar's punishment. The pain level is equivalent to when I first tossed away the onion. Even so, it's all I can do to prevent myself from grunting when the farmer tosses me onto a hard, flat surface. My body makes a hollow-sounding thump.

The farmer's footsteps circle around me and out a few paces.

"Whweee-o-weeep. [Come here dogs.]" I hear the farmer's whistle and its meaning overlaid as well.

Interesting! Could I communicate using non-words as well? Could I use this to lure the dogs and farmer away? Unfortunately, I can't send away the dogs without the farmer also understanding. If only I could exclude others from understanding what I say.

Soon, the surface my body lies on tilts and begins to bump up and down.

Crussssh. Squeak. Squeak. The sound of wheels grinding at the muddy ground and the squeal of axels surrounds me. He must have placed me on a cart.

Should I make a run for it?

I've lost custody of my weapons. If I were to escape into the wilderness now, would I survive an encounter with a hungry beast? More importantly, would the dogs even let me get that far? Moreover, when will this headache make me faint again?

No, waiting for a better opportunity is the best choice.

I might not even need to run. Perhaps the farmer hasn't noticed the collar, or if he has, he might be sympathetic. After all, this body is only a child.

* * * * *

"Wolf! Wolf! [Hi Friend! Pet me! Pet me!]"

"Top of the morning, Dave!" says a nasally, unfamiliar voice.

"Good morning, John!" says the gravelly voice of the farmer who placed me on his cart.

"What've you got on your cart there?"

"Found some runaway criminal scum. He was trying to be a bandit in the wilderness."

Excuse me? Criminal scum? You're the criminal scum slandering me like that. Exactly when was I trying to be a bandit?

I lie still, not letting my displeasure show.

"This little bugger tried to rob me with this little spear, but he's got no cultivation and wasn't expecting to run into an old expert like me! I knocked him out cold in one strike! I'm taking him to town. Hopefully, I'll find his master to compensate me for the attempt on my life and the items he stole from me."

Why is my luck so bad? Of all the farmers out there, why do I run into the one who will slander a little kid for his ego and personal gain?

"Oh, yeah! I'd recognize this wild kid anywhere. He snuck into my house last night and stole my good silver— left mud and leaves all over everything. Why don't you get some compensation for me as well?" said John.

You didn't know me only a moment ago! Now you're adding to the charges?

"Sure thing, John! Have a good day."

"You too, Dave."

We continue a little longer and a third farmer adds to my list of crimes. Then a fourth and a fifth— perhaps the odds of meeting a despicable farmer are rather high. At least it's clear I'll have to run.

I await my chance to escape. Because of the collar, every bump and pothole sends new pain searing through my body.

* * * * *

Clack! Clack!

The cartwheels sound like they are rolling on cobblestone and the rush of running water fills the air. This could be it. I subtly move my head and crack open my eyes. There's a stone bridge ahead over a rushing river.

It's higher than I would like. Yet, it will have to do. The last farmer had the bright idea to tie my wrists and ankles. If I arrive at the guards, I'll be in chains.

A separate set of wheels clatter on the road ahead. I angle my eyes— a fancy nobles' carriage passes by. My luck is good! Nobles won't bother with farmers or a bound child covered in leaves. The carriage forces Farmer Dave's cart towards the side of the bridge.

Good! Good!

I turn myself over and kick off with all my strength. As I turn in the air to check if anyone noticed my escape, my eyes catch those of a young noble girl peering out the back window of her carriage. She has a fan covering her face from the nose down, but her eyes are clear blue and fractured like a shattered sky.

Please don't bother with me!

I plunge into the chilling water curled in a fetal position. Diving headfirst, although a classy move, would increase the likelihood of smacking my head against the bottom. I desperately swim towards shore. At least my elementary swimming lessons come in handy here— and I thought the swimming instructor was crazy when he bound my limbs and threw me in the lake.

The current carries me along a bend in the river and I arrive at the bank where a small grove of willows grows. The chilling water sapped my strength and the waves of pain are unbearable. I crawl behind the roots of the nearest willow and pass out.

...