FORTY-FOUR - Xanthus VIII

Xanthus finds himself in a worse predicament than he could have imagined.

The only thing Xanthus was aware of was pain.  First there had been a flash of pain as the Bareland Beast’s claw lacerated his chest.  Then there had been the pain of his head smacking onto the stone of the cave floor.  When he finally came to, there was the pain of his body being dragged across jagged rocks.  But whatever was pulling him didn’t feel like a Bareland Beast.

He couldn’t think.  The agony was overwhelming.  His chest was still open, part of his ribcage was visible and blood gushed out, leaving a trail behind his lifeless body.  The pain would have been bad enough, but every time some of the cave water touched his wounds, it stung even worse.  He wanted to scream, but he didn’t have the energy.  He managed to lift his head for just a second, for just long enough to realize that he was being dragged by a group of humans.  There are humans in these caves?  Did they fight off the Bareland Beast?  Are they rescuing me? 

That was when he blacked out again.

When he came to this time, he was lying beside a fire.  He had been completely wrapped in the hide of a Bareland Beast.  His arms were pinned to his sides.  He struggled momentarily to get out but the pain overtook him and he decided it was best not to move again.

“You’re awake!” someone said.  The stranger approached him and sat down beside his face on the ground.  “You’re lucky we found you.  That Beast would have eaten you for sure.”

“Th�"thank you…” Xanthus managed to say.

The stranger studied him for a long time.  “Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked.

Xanthus’s head was spinning.  He tried to get a good look at the man’s face but his vision blurred and he shook his head ever so gently.

“Didn’t think so,” the man said.  “Would you be surprised to hear that I know who you are?”  He paused, apparently for dramatic effect.  If Xanthus hadn’t been in so much pain it might have worked.

“Actually, we all know who you are.”  This was a second voice.  Another person had appeared beside the first.  This one was a woman.  Or maybe it wasn’t.  It sounded like a woman.  But Xanthus couldn’t be sure about anything right now.

“Where are our manners?” the first person said.  “You’re probably not feeling too well.  You should have some water.  It’ll do you some good.  Run and get him some water for me, would you?”

The woman disappeared and came back with a small amount of water.  The man held it out for Xanthus, who opened his mouth greedily.  The man poured the water into his mouth, and immediately Xanthus began coughing.  He spat the water out.  There was something wrong with it�"this water couldn’t be ingested, it tasted like poison.

As Xanthus drooled and spit the nasty substance out of his mouth and onto the cave ground, the man and woman started to laugh uncontrollably.  “What’s the matter?” the man asked.  “You didn’t like that?  You didn’t appreciate the gift that we got for you?  We took a very long time to pick it out.  I think I know what the problem was.  We didn’t give you enough.”

And then it started again.  He poured an entire bladder onto Xanthus’s face.  It seemed like it would never stop�"he couldn’t breathe, and he certainly couldn’t swallow the stuff.  He shook his head back and forth, but the barrage of water followed his mouth, the two strangers laughing the whole time.  Just when he thought it was finished and gasped for air, another full bladder began to pour out onto him.

It ended and Xanthus was practically vibrating with fear and pain.  He coughed water out onto himself, which dripped down his neck and into the gash left there by the Bareland Beast.  He screamed.

“You know what, we’re being greedy,” the man said.  “We haven’t introduced him to our friends!”

No… there can’t possibly be any more of you.  I can’t take any more of this.

“You’re right.  I bet they’d all be just as happy to find out that he’s alive as we are.  Did you know that we have a lot of friends, Xanthus?”

“You’re going to love them.  You may recognize a few of them.  You know them from way back.”

The man and woman each grabbed one of Xanthus’s feet and headed off through the caves again.  They weren’t gentle, and Xanthus’s head slammed into rocks and banged against every uneven surface that he came across along their journey.

“Puh…” he said.

The man stopped, dropping his foot heavily to the ground.  The pain of his heel slamming hard onto a rock was unbearable.

“I think he’s trying to say something,” the man said.  “Maybe he didn’t like the gift we got him.  Is there something else you want from us, Sir?”  The last word was clearly meant to mock him, but Xanthus ignored that.

“Puh…leeeee,” Xanthus got out.  The words weren’t coming, his mouth wouldn’t do what he wanted it to.  It didn’t help that he couldn’t focus, he couldn’t think, the pain was everywhere at once.

“Pulley?” the woman asked.  “Does he want us to figure out a different way to drag him?”

“I don’t think so,” the man said.  “I think he wants us to pull him faster.  He’s very anxious to meet our friends!  Well, Xanthus, Sir… we’ll be happy to oblige!”

And they kept their word.  They started to run with him, his back felt like someone with stone fists was repeatedly punching him.  His body slid side to side as they ran, his head smashing into the walls of the cave, his body splashing into more puddles of the vile, stinging water that seemed to be everywhere.

I wish the Beast had killed me.  I don’t know who these people are but I can’t take another minute with them.  I’ve never felt this much pain in my entire life.

“PLEASE!” he shouted, finally able to get the word out.

The two stopped running.  “Well.  Since you asked so nicely… Get him some more water.”

“No!”  He got out just the single brief syllable before his mouth was completely full again.  He gargled on the water and some of it found its way into his lungs, and he began coughing.  He coughed hard.  It would have been painful enough but the open wounds on his chest only made everything worse.  I can’t take this… I can’t do it anymore… why can’t I just pass out again?  Anything would be better than suffering through this torture.

He couldn’t stop himself from coughing.  It got worse and worse and the pain grew more vivid until finally tears began streaming down Xanthus’s cheeks.  He let out tiny, almost inaudible sobs because each breath he took was a knife in his chest.  One of his tears dripped down and fell into his mouth.  It tastes like the water.  This cave water is literally made of human tears.

“I think we may have been too hard on him,” the woman said.

“Not a chance,” the man said.  “We’ve only just begun.”

And then he took off running, except the woman hadn’t picked up his other leg.  Xanthus’s body swung around and his face collided full on with a large rock jutting out of the floor.  He welcomed the darkness as he blacked out again.

The next thing he heard was a number of voices.  It wasn’t just the two of his original captors anymore.  There were dozens of voices… if not more.  They can’t all be preparing to torture me… what did I ever do to them?  I don’t even know who these people are!

He opened one eye the smallest amount to see if he could get a sense of his surroundings.  Scattered around him in the large cavern were a few small fires surrounded by small stones.  The voices he was hearing were the people gathered around them.  They talked, laughed, and ate joyfully.  What are they eating?  Did they find the Bareland Beasts’ food source?  If they don’t kill me, I’ll have to ask them where they found it.  A few of the people were sleeping; others were sitting quietly alone.  He turned his head to see how far the group went in this cavern, but there was a wall blocking his view.

His vision blurred again and all of the pain he felt earlier came rushing back to him.  He winced and let out the smallest sound of discomfort.  Someone at the nearest fire immediately whirled around to look at him.  It was an old man.  Their eyes locked.  He knows I’m awake.

“Everyone, be quiet,” the old man said.  “Xanthus is awake again!”

The cavern immediately went silent.  All eyes were on him now.  No.  I can’t handle this.  He emitted a whimpering sound and everyone around him started to laugh.  The old man got up slowly and approached him.

“Do you know who I am?” he asked.

Should I?  Xanthus shook his head.

“No, you wouldn’t.  You were very small when I got exiled.  I was the first person your father got rid of when he started to go mad.  But I certainly knew you.  It was my job to write down everything important that happened in the city, after all.  Record Keeper.  Sound familiar yet?”

Xanthus didn’t move to respond.  It doesn’t sound familiar at all.  When did Xantom ever have a Record Keeper?

“The name’s Whittaker.  I’m sure there’s a lot of history happening in the city right now that isn’t being recorded.  And I’m pretty sure that was intentional.  From what I hear, you haven’t been doing the best job of leading that city since I left.  Almost every person you see has been exiled or has decided to leave.  They thought they’d have a better chance in the Barelands than answering to you.  Not that I’m really complaining, I’ve met all of my best friends out here, right in this very cave.  It’s funny, there’s a whole lot of really good people that you’ve been exiling from your city.  It’s like you don’t even know what’s good for you.  I can’t even be mad at you.  All of my favorite people in the world are here because of you.”

So this is where they all go.  No one has ever found an exiled person�"alive or dead.  And this is why.  They’re all living together in a cave, near the Bareland Beasts, where our people never go.  Why do they all seem so happy?  Being exiled is supposed to be a punishment!

“A lot of the people here… well, they want to kill you,” Whittaker continued.  “But I don’t think that’s right.  You gave a lot of them a choice.  It could either be exile, or death.  And because of that, they’re alive today.  So we aren’t going to kill you.  But I can’t make any promises for Draven, when he gets back.”

Xanthus’s heart skipped a beat.  Draven was out here?  Draven was still alive?  Xanthus had only been a boy when Draven was Head of the King’s Guard.  He remembered the exiling ceremony well.  It was one of the first that he had participated in, instead of just being a bystander.  He had thrown rocks at Draven’s face.  One of them had hit pretty hard.  Hopefully he doesn’t remember that.  Or the countless times I mocked him while he was doing his duty around the castle.  Or the times I made fun of him…

“I don’t know why exactly it is that you left the city,” Whittaker said.  “But it’s great to have you out here with us.  Draven actually set out yesterday to pay you a little visit, but now we’ll have a great surprise for him when he gets back.”

I’m dead.  I never would have thought I’d have to face any of these people again, or I might have played my entire reign as King a little differently.  If someone had told me I would be a captive of every person I ever exiled… I certainly wouldn’t have believed them, and I might have exiled them for suggesting it.  He stopped.  I’ve been a terrible human being since I was a child.  I deserve everything that’s coming to me.

“The thing is… you aren’t going to do him very much good if you die before he gets here, so we’re going to take care of you.  I’m sorry you got hurt so much by those two… they got a little carried away.”

“Technically Xanthus was the one who got carried away,” the male captor said, and laughed.  Whittaker gave him a stern look.

“Draven wouldn’t approve of you stealing his kill.  He’s been waiting for this for a very long time.”  He turned back to Xanthus.  “Draven and the others should be back soon.  I promise you’ll recognize a few of them.  In the meantime, try to get some rest.  You’re going to need it.”

If I could kill myself right now, I would.