Dael came to on hard dirt. The air was cool, and the world beyond his eyelids was dark, flickering - distant firelight. He tried to sit up, and his neck burned.
“Another one’s coming around,” a boy said.
“Poor fool,” a man said. “Should stay asleep.”
Dael opened his eyes. “Where am I? What’s happening?” Then he noticed the rope at his throat, the same rope that bound him to the man and boy on either side of him.
“We’re being loaded onto that boat,” the man said. He was tanned and scarred, a seasoned warrior. “After that, I don’t know.”
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