Ona blinked awake, her thoughts foggy and confused. Fragmented memories of clashing steel and chaos danced through her mind. As she struggled to orient herself, panic surged when she realized she was bound and trapped within a creaky wooden wagon.
Her heart pounded as she strained against the rough bindings cutting into her wrists. Where was she? Who were these men? Desperate for clarity, she tried to call out, but her dry throat produced only a raspy sound.
Masked figures encircled the wagon, some atop massive, fierce black panthers, while others strode on foot, their faces concealed, their motives unclear. They were clad in ominous black attire that seemed to absorb the light around them. Each one bore an arsenal of weapons strapped to their bodies, a menacing display of lethal intent. Some wielded bows and arrows, their quivers brimming with deadly arrows ready to be unleashed. Others brandished axes, their gleaming blades reflecting the faintest glimmer of sunlight. And then there were those with swords, their razor-sharp edges glinting ominously in the darkness, poised for swift and decisive strikes. Together, they formed a formidable force, a group of rogues whose very presence inspired fear and apprehension in all who crossed their path.
Ona's eyes widened with a blend of fear and resolve as she mustered her dwindling energy. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?" she demanded, her voice quivering yet imbued with the authority of royalty.
The bandits moved in silence, their footsteps echoing hollowly across the uneven ground as the wagon lurched forward, jostling it's helpless occupant. Ona clenched her jaw, swallowing back the dread that threatened to consume her. She refused to show vulnerability in the face of her captors.
Where was Tij? She recalled him knocking her unconscious after appearing to rescue her. Why would he do such a thing? Where was that uncultured brute with the graces of a wild boar when she needed answers?
As the rickety wagon lumbered along the mountain path, Ona felt her heart plummet when she recognized Tij among her captors. The realization that he had been one of the treacherous bandits all along washed over her with a sickening chill. Betrayal and fear coiled tightly in her gut like twin serpents.
Haunting memories resurfaced - the brutal slaying of loyal Maka, her dear handmaiden, and the valiant captain who had sworn to protect them. She watched again in her mind's eye as their lifeblood spilled upon the ground.
Ona bit back tears. Questions flooded her mind, each one a tangled thread begging for unraveling. Why spare her life instead of ending it when he had the opportunity? Why masquerade as an ally, tending to her wounds and saving her from peril? What motives lay beneath his facade of kindness? What was his endgame, his ultimate plan in this intricate dance of deception? As the wagon rumbled on, Ona knew she needed answers, and she was determined to uncover the truth.
With that determination, came a burning desire for vengeance. Ona silently pledged to make Tij suffer a prolonged, agonizing demise as penance for his unforgivable deceit. Though escaping the clutches of these armored bandits alone appeared an impossible feat, she cared not if exacting her revenge meant sacrificing her own life in the process. And she sensed that the opportunity for confrontation would present itself sooner rather than later.
She was not wrong. That night, Tij's footsteps approached, the sound like gravel crunching underfoot. Ona kept her gaze averted, staring resolutely at the splintered wooden planks of the wagon floor.
"How are you faring?" Tij's voice slithered into her ears, syrupy sweet in an attempt to masquerade his deceit.
Ona's jaw clenched, teeth grinding together as she swallowed the torrent of acidic words burning in her throat. She would not grant him the satisfaction of a response.
Undeterred, Tij continued his insufferable prattling. "Are your bindings too tight? I can loosen them for you."
Still she stayed silent, erecting an impenetrable wall of quiet around herself. Her defiance was the last weapon available in this hostage situation.
Tij's calloused fingers brushed against the mottled bruise encircling her neck, the mark of his own brutality. Ona flinched as if his touch carried a current of agony. Hot pinprick tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision.
"You should get some rest," he murmured in a perverted tone of solicitousness. "We have many miles yet to travel."
When at last his shadow retreated, Ona finally released the shuddering breath she had been holding. Her shoulders slumped, aching from being drawn taut with tension. Though her voice had failed her, she would not allow her resolution to waver. She would never surrender her dignity to this repugnant snake.
The next day's journey took them out of the dense forest and into an arid, desert-like landscape. The trees thinned and eventually disappeared altogether, leaving them exposed to the relentless glare of the sun beating down from an endless expanse of cloudless sky.
Ona squinted against the harsh light, beads of sweat forming on her brow as the stifling heat seeped into the cramped wagon. Her parched lips cracked and bled when she unconsciously licked them. Every breath of the dry, dusty air was like inhaling scorching coals.
The plodding cadence of the wagon's wheels kicked up small cyclones of grit that swirled around her. Ona tucked her face into the tattered sleeve of her dress, trying in vain to escape the omnipresent trail of sand and ash.
The unmistakable sound of approaching purrs heralded Tij's arrival. He reined his panther in beside the wagon, backlit by the blazing sun into a mere silhouette. From his saddlebags he procured a heavy satchel of water.
"Here, you must be thirsty," he said, holding out the container with an infuriatingly nonchalant air.
Ona's gaze remained stubbornly downcast, her chapped lips remaining tightly sealed. She would not dishonor herself by accepting anything from this traitorous snake's hands.
With an impatient sigh, Tij tossed the water satchel into the wagon beside her. It landed with a heavy thump, sloshing tantalizing drops onto the hardpacked ground. "Suit yourself," he muttered, wheeling his beast around to rejoin his bandit company further up the trail.
Alone once more, Ona's resolve nearly crumbled as she eyed the water pouch. Her whole body cried out for even the smallest drop to soothe her cracked, arid mouth and throat. But she would not imbibe by Tij's beneficence. She locked her jaw and averted her stinging eyes, pushing thoughts of the liquid relief from her mind's raggedly fraying edges.
The company ground to a halt as the sun began its descent, painting the sky in brilliant crimson streaks. Before them loomed an imposing mountain peak, its jagged silhouette cutting into the vivid celestial canvas like the raised fangs of a slumbering behemoth. They would breach its formidable slopes come first light.
Ona's wagon rattled to a stop amidst a flurry of activity as the bandits made camp for the night. She watched impassively as tents were raised and fires kindled, the scent of roasting meat wafting tauntingly through the air. Her own empty belly rumbled traitorously.
The familiar footfall announced Tij's approach even before his shadow fell over her. He carried a humble wooden bowl piled high with travel rations - hard tack and strips of dried meat. "You need to eat something," he said flatly, holding it out.
Ona turned her face away, nostrils flaring in muted defiance. She would starve before accepting nourishment from his soiled hands.
With a resigned sigh, Tij set the bowl beside the discarded and undoubtedly warm water satchel. "Have it your way," he muttered, raking her with his eyes as if combing her rigid form for any hints of wavering fortitude.
Finding none, he reached for her instead, his rough hands clamping like iron manacles around her slender wrists. Ona's eyes flew wide as Tij easily overpowered her feeble struggles, wrenching her jaws apart with his brutish strength.
His grimy fingers pried her clenched mouth open, and he crammed in a wad of the salted meat and hardtack. Ona thrashed wildly, her raptor glare burning holes through his impassive facade as he pinched her nostrils until she was forced to chew and swallow the hated provisions.
Hot tears of rage and defiance stung the corners of her tightly screwed eyes. When he held the water pouch to her lips, she sealed them shut, only to have it dribble over her face as he impatiently massaged her throat. Fighting her gag reflex, she was powerless to stop herself from swallowing the blessedly warm liquid.
"There, that should keep you going a while longer," Tij said with a curt nod. "Can't have you starving and slowing us down. You can hate me better on a full belly."
With that blunt parting remark, he turned and strode away, leaving Ona to seethe amidst the lingering musk of meted injustice and indignity.
Tears of humiliation and grief streaked Ona's dirt-streaked cheeks as Tij's footsteps faded into the cacophony of the camp. She hastily swiped at her mouth with a tattered sleeve, smearing away the shame and violation left by the forced feeding.