John walked into the tent, sat down on the animal skin opposite Mark, and observed Mark carefully. The crackling of the campfire cast a flickering shadow in the tent, and also reflected the flickering scrutiny in John's eyes. From time to time, he fiddled with the dagger at his waist with his hand, and the friction between metal and leather made a slight sound, which was particularly clear in the silent tent.
It was late at night, and the camp gradually became quiet. Only the occasional crackling sound of the campfire and the cries of a few night owls from the distant mountains and forests added a bit of silence. John felt a little sleepy, yawned, and rubbed his eyes. He looked up at Mark who was tied to the stake. Mark lowered his head and could not see his expression clearly, but from his slightly trembling body, it could be seen that he was in extreme fear and anxiety, and the rope tied to his wrist was red.
John got up, walked to the door of the tent, lifted the animal skin curtain, and looked out. The camp was silent, with only a few guards patrolling back and forth, the torches in their hands flickering, casting long shadows in the night. After confirming that there was nothing unusual around, John put down the animal skin curtain, turned back to Mark, bent down, and untied the rope on Mark's mouth.
Mark coughed violently a few times, "cough cough cough...", spit out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and then looked at John in horror, his eyes full of vigilance and hostility.
John took out a piece of dry and hard food from his waist pocket, handed it to Mark, gestured at his mouth, and signaled Mark to eat. Mark hesitated for a moment, his eyes wandering back and forth between John and the dry and hard food. In the end, hunger overcame fear, he opened his mouth and nibbled in small bites, and the dry and hard food crumbs fell from the corners of his mouth. He ate slowly, as if he was tasting the hard-earned food, and as if he was stalling time and thinking about how to escape.
John watched Mark eat quietly, without any expression on his face. After Mark finished eating, John tied Mark's mouth again, his movements were skillful and fast. Then he walked to the corner of the tent, found a clean animal skin, sat down cross-legged, closed his eyes, and began to rest. The tent fell into silence again, with only Mark's slight breathing and the crackling of the campfire intertwined.
John sat for a while, and there was a slight sound of footsteps outside the tent. He suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the door of the tent vigilantly. The animal skin curtain was lifted, and a burly guard walked in with a lamp in his hand. The guard's name was David, and he was John's comrade-in-arms for many years.
"What's going on?" David placed the oil lamp on the wooden box in the middle of the tent, and the dim light illuminated the entire tent.
John pointed to the tied Mark, "It's okay, I just gave him something to eat."
David nodded, "I'll go see what's going on outside." After that, he picked up the oil lamp and turned to leave the tent. The animal skin curtain fell, and the tent became dark again, with only the light on the wooden box emitting a faint light.
Mark looked at John with his eyes closed, his eyes turned, as if he was thinking about something. He quietly moved his body, trying to break free from the ropes on his body. The ropes at his wrists were extremely rough, and every friction was like a blunt knife cutting Mark's skin. He gritted his teeth, endured the piercing pain, and continued to struggle. The subtle "rustling" sound was particularly clear in the silent tent. The skin at his wrists had been worn and bleeding, staining the rough ropes red.
John suddenly opened his eyes, like a dormant cheetah suddenly awakened. He looked around vigilantly, then stood up and walked to Mark, squatted down, and carefully checked the ropes. After making sure that there was no looseness, he tightened the ropes hard and tied a knot.
"Um..." Mark groaned in pain and gave up the meaningless struggle. The severe pain made his eyes black, and the feeling of despair surged into his heart like a tide. He lowered his head weakly, his eyes full of despair and powerlessness. In the dim light of the tent, his face was as pale as paper, and his hair was soaked with sweat and stuck to his forehead.
John returned to his seat, but did not close his eyes immediately. He watched Mark vigilantly, observing if he had any other unusual movements. His eyes were as sharp as a hawk, as if he could see through Mark's heart. The air in the tent seemed to solidify, with only the occasional "crackling" sound of the campfire, intertwined with the slight breathing of the two.
David, the guard outside the tent, heard the sound in the tent, lifted the animal skin curtain and poked his head in. In the thick night, only his vague outline could be seen. "John, what happened?" His voice was low and hoarse, with a hint of vigilance.
John shook his head, indicating that it was okay, and then made a gesture to keep quiet. He tilted his head slightly, looked at the tied Mark, and a trace of imperceptible coldness flashed in his eyes.
David followed John's gaze to Mark, and with the dim light in the tent, he saw that Mark was tightly tied to the wooden stake, and the rope at his wrists was stained red with blood. A trace of doubt flashed in his eyes, and he opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say something else, but in the end he said nothing. He put down the animal skin curtain and turned away. When the animal skin curtain fell, it brought a breeze, blowing the lights in the tent, and the swaying firelight cast a swaying shadow on the wall of the tent.
John closed his eyes again, but this time he did not completely relax his vigilance. He remained in a state of half-asleep and half-awake, listening carefully to the movements inside and outside the tent, like a beast ready to pounce on its prey at any time. The occasional footsteps of the guards patrolling outside the tent and the cries of a few night owls from the distant mountains and forests were particularly clear in the silent night.
Mark closed his eyes in despair and stopped struggling in vain. He began to silently accumulate strength, waiting, ready to act when the opportunity arose. He took a deep breath and tried to calm his pounding heart. He knew that he had to stay calm to find a chance to escape. The wound on his wrist was burning, but he was numb and could not feel the pain, and there was no energy left in his body. He had only one thought in his mind: escape!
Mark slowly opened his eyes. In the dim light of the tent, John's figure appeared and disappeared in the slightly swaying firelight. He turned his head to look at the rope on his wrist. The dark red blood had dried up and turned dark brown, tightly sticking to his skin. He gently moved his wrist to feel the tightness of the rope.
John's breathing was even and long, and he seemed to have fallen asleep. Mark held his breath and carefully moved his bound hands, trying to grind the rope away from the stake. The rough surface of the stake rubbed against the rope, making a slight "rustling" sound.
Suddenly, there was a sound of footsteps outside the tent, from far to near. Mark immediately stopped moving, closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep. The footsteps stopped outside the tent, and a deep voice said, "John, is everything OK?"
John opened his eyes suddenly, looked around vigilantly, and then responded, "Everything is OK, Bill." He turned his head slightly and glanced at the tied Mark, confirming that he was still tied to the stake motionlessly.
The people outside the tent seemed to be relieved, and the footsteps sounded again and gradually faded away. John sat up, walked to Mark, and shone his flashlight on his face to confirm whether he was really asleep. Seeing that Mark closed his eyes tightly and breathed evenly, he was relieved and returned to his seat.
John picked up the kettle and drank a sip of water, his Adam's apple rolling up and down. He put down the kettle and rubbed his sore eyes. He felt tired from being vigilant for a long time. He closed his eyes again, but remained alert.
Mark felt that John's eyes had left him, and he slowly opened his eyes and observed the surrounding environment in the dim light. He noticed a dagger that John had placed beside him, and the blade reflected the cold light in the firelight. A glimmer of hope ignited in his heart. If he could get the dagger, he would have a chance to cut the rope.
He began to move his bound hands more carefully, moving the rope towards the edge of the stake little by little. The edge of the stake was not smooth, with some small cracks and protrusions, which gave him hope. He felt the texture of the stake with his worn skin, looking for points that could be used.
Time passed by minute by minute, and the tent was silent, with only the subtle sound of the stake rubbing against the rope, and John's occasional slight snoring. Fine beads of sweat oozed from Mark's forehead, but he didn't dare to make any sound, so he could only persist silently.
Footsteps were heard outside the tent again, this time from two people. One of the voices said, "John, it's time to change shifts."
John opened his eyes, stood up, and walked to the door of the tent. "Got it." He said, lifting the animal skin curtain and walked out.
Mark saw John leave the tent, and he was ecstatic. He moved his hands more vigorously, and the friction of the rope on the edge of the stake became clearer and clearer.
John walked out of the tent and saw guards David and Bill standing outside the tent.
"You've worked hard, Bill."
"It's okay, go and have a rest." Bill patted John on the shoulder, and then walked into the tent with guard David. After David entered the tent, he casually lowered the animal skin curtain.