They had little luck in the mayhem, however, and were forced to hide behind some barrels when some more thieves tried to steal their horse. They stayed there the rest of the night, until the gang of thieves finished their rampage and galloped away, laughing uproariously with their ill-gotten goods. When the coast was clear, the villagers emerged from hiding, some of them crying, others cursing, and they set to work putting out the fires. Alvin, Ginger, and Weaver crept out of hiding as well.

“Well, this is just great,” Ginger said. “Any idea where they went?”

Alvin shook his head. “They went north, but who knows if they went straight north or not…”

“There’s a swamp to the north,” Weaver informed them. “It sounds like a good spot to hide if you don’t want people following you.”

Alvin nodded. “Okay, then. Should we go after them now, or wait until morning?”

“They’ll just get further away if we sleep now,” Ginger said. “Let’s go after them now, and camp out when we can’t go any further.”

Alvin agreed to this plan, though Weaver put up a fuss about going out at night. They wandered around until they found their horse; after mounting it, they set off north. They ride for some time, the night wind whipping at Alvin’s face. Ginger and Weaver both have fur to keep them warm, but they still shiver somewhat. When they can’t take it anymore, and Alvin is barely keeping his eyes open, they stop and camp for the night.

When dawn broke, they set out again, and arrived at the swamp around mid-morning. The muck extended for miles in every direction ahead of them; ugly trees clustered together in groups. The whole place looked very foreboding, and there was a stench in the air of what could only be dead creatures who lost their way and fell, never to rise again.

The three travelers stared at the swamp. “Well… do you really think the thieves are hiding out here?” Alvin asked Weaver.

Weaver looked at the swamp, then at Alvin. “Not sure anymore, nope! Hee hee! But if I was a thief, I’d definitely hide here!”

Alvin sighed. “Well, we don’t have any better ideas, so I guess we should get this over with.”

He nudges the horse forward; the steed steps into the swamp with some trepidation. The smell seems even worse now that they are enveloped by it, and the whole place is just plain dismal and devoid of life. Ginger looks around and sighs. “I don’t like this place… how could anyone live here?”

“Sometimes you get used to it if you must,” Weaver said. “Especially if you’re crazy!!”

“I see you’ve regained your sense of annoyance,” Alvin muttered.

They continue on for a long time, looking for any sign of life, any sign that a group of horsemen had passed through during the night, but the muck quickly eliminated any prints, thus making it impossible to tell. The day dragged on. As the sun began to set, fear began to fill them… they did not want to spend the night in this swamp, but they were in the middle of nowhere- the swamp stretched on for miles around them. As the sun got lower and lower, they managed to find a small patch of dry ground protected by a clump of dead trees. Alvin, who had taken to leading the horse along, trudged through the muck and climbed over the bare roots to the patch of earth, pulling the horse’s reins to bring it up as well.

Once everyone was on dry ground, Alvin divided up a portion of their rations to quell their grumbling stomachs. They ate the meager meal in silence. Even Weaver didn’t seem willing to say anything. After they were done, they settled down to sleep, and, after some time, they drifted off. Ginger slept on Alvin’s stomach; Weaver climbed into a tree.

When Alvin awoke, he noticed a couple things were wrong. For one thing, he wasn’t outside anymore. He was on a bed. For another, he was bound hand and foot, and gagged as well. More furious at himself for being caught than afraid over the fact that he had been caught, he struggled to break free, and ended up rolling off the bed and hit the ground with a thud.

“Hey! Stay still, runt!” a voice commanded. Alvin glared at the man who walked over to him. It was one of the thieves. Weaver had actually been right… but where was he now? And where was Ginger? “Ye have spunk,” the man said. “Following us out here like that. Can’t think of anyone else with the spine to do it. So, what got into ye? That armor shirt special or something? The dagger?”

Alvin continued to glare at him, determined not to betray anything. The man laughed, and, grabbing Alvin by the collar, lifted him up. Alvin struggled even more, trying to break the man’s grip, but to no avail. The man dragged him across the room, flung him into a chair, and then secured Alvin to the chair. Once Alvin was tied, the man took the gag off of him. “Now, then, tell me, did anyone follow ye?”

Alvin didn’t respond, or even look at the man. He stared at the wall. The man chuckled slightly. “Well, I doubt it. Ye were alone when we found ye. Well, except for that cat. Had to throw it into the swamp- damn thing wouldn’t let go of ye.”

Ginger… Alvin’s heart sank, and his face went pale. The man didn’t seem to take much notice. “That old man who was with ye back in town wasn’t there, of course. Nice horse, though. We’ve been needing a new one- one of our steeds went lame. As for ye, well, we’ll be heading for the sea in a few days. Setting sail to the mainland. We’ll sell you when we get there.”

The words hit Alvin like a sack of bricks, and he sat there, rigid. Ginger was gone… probably swallowed by the swamp. He was going to be shipped out of this land, taken to another… sold into slavery… Alice would never be freed from Lucifier’s prison… He tried really hard not to lose his composure in front of this thief.

The thief watched him for a bit until he got bored and left. Alvin was alone, and he tried as hard as he could to break free of his bonds, but the ropes were just too tight. At a loss, and his mind full of sorrow, Alvin slumped in his chair, tears filling his eyes.

How long he sat there, he wasn’t sure. A man, different from the first one, came in and put some food on the table; he untied Alvin’s arms from the chair, but made sure that the ropes that still bound Alvin were tight, secure, and the knots were out of reach. Alvin ate slowly, finding it hard to swallow as memories of Ginger and Alice flooded his mind. It was hard to believe that only a few days ago, they’d been home, everything normal… After he finished eating, he laid his head on the table, and stayed in that position for hours. The thieves paid no mind to their prisoner- they went about their business, planning their next raid, grooming the horses, admiring their loot…

The sun set, and the room Alvin was in became pitch dark. He was tired, but he couldn’t sleep… his thoughts wouldn’t permit it. He listened to the thieves shout and sing as they ate and had a few drinks… as they collapsed in their rooms… and finally, all was quiet… except for the sound of light footsteps on the roof.

Alvin glanced up, wondering why one of the thieves was sleeping on the roof. He listened as the footsteps made their way to the front of the building. He strained to hear as a door was opened with a light squeak. There was a loud, drunken grunt, followed by the sound of something hitting somebody’s skull, and the grunt cut off quite suddenly.

Alvin’s heart beat violently as he listened to the footsteps wander the house, opening doors… he swore he could hear two voices whispering to each other, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying, though one of them sounded familiar… Finally, the door to his room was opened, and a figure peeked in.

“There he is!”

Alvin’s mouth dropped open. “Ginger?!”

The cat jumped onto the table in front of him. He grabbed her and hugged her tightly. “Hush!” Ginger whispered. “We’re getting you out of here… no, Weaver, the ropes are lower… lower… there you go.”

“Weaver’s here?” Alvin asked, craning his head back to see, without much luck.

“Hey, the witch said I had to help you,” Weaver said. “If I don’t, she’ll make sure I regret it.”

Weaver, using his claws and teeth, made quick work of the ropes, and Alvin stood up, his legs shaking a bit after being tied down all day. “What happened last night?” he asked.

“We’ll tell you when we get out of here,” Ginger said, jumping onto his shoulder. “Now, follow my instructions very carefully, understand? We need to find your stuff, and get out of here.”

[word count for the day: 1,558.]

__________________

Feel free to explore."If the solar system was brought about by an accidental collision, then the appearance of organic life on this planet was also an accident and the whole evolution of man was also an accident. If so, then all our present thoughts are accidents... I see no reason for believing that one accident should be able to give me a correct account of all the other accidents."
- C.S. Lewis