Free A World Apart by Steven A. Tolle

Jake had spoken.  He bent down and slapped Jake across the face, hard.  Jake's head spun and he almost fell over.
    "Don't thank me, boy."  Matus said.  "I didn't do that for you.  Surt needed a lesson to remember who the Master placed in charge."
    "Master?"  Jake asked, belatedly realizing that he should have kept quiet.
    "Our Master.  He sent us out on this hunt."  Matus replied, slapping Jake again.  "Don't worry, you will meet him soon.  I would stop talking and rest, if I were you.  You are going to need your strength."  Matus smiled cruelly as he said it, then picked Jake up, carried him a short distance and shoved him down with his back to a tree.  "Are you going to be smart and stay put or do I need to tie you up?"  Jake nodded nervously as he stared into those cold eyes.
    "Good boy."  Matus said with a smirk, patting Jake on the head like a dog.  "Despite our Master's command, everything you have experienced so far will pale in comparison if I have to track you down."  Matus turned and walked away; the others chuckling, grinning evilly at Jake.
    Jake closed his eyes, stretching his legs out in front of him, leaning against the tree.  He tried to take slow breaths, searching for calm, but feeling fear, pain, despair and, surprisingly, anger.  He tried to channel that anger into strength, straining against the bindings on his hands.  As he flexed his arms and twisted his hands against the bonds, his fingers slid along the ground, the dirt cool and coarse.
    He did not recognize it at first, but as he moved his hand again, he realized he was feeling a small rock, no bigger than his fist, broken with what felt like an edge, partly buried in the dirt.  He quickly looked around, afraid his surprise showed on his face, giving him away, but the others were not paying attention to him.
    Slowly, keeping his movements very small to avoid detection, he uncovered the rock.  To his delight, the broken side of the rock had a jagged edge.  He tucked it into his lower back, and then sat there thinking, trying to determine his next move.  He knew he had to get away, but it had to be the right time.
    Night settled over the woods.  Jake heard the cry of an owl as it flew silently overhead.  Matus sent out a couple of the men to stand watch.  The men moved out into the woods, starting a slow circuit around the campsite.  The rest, including Surt, his face swollen and a bloody bandage over his ear, took out their sleeping blankets and laid down.  Jake could feel Surt glaring at him, but tried to ignore him.  Matus had wrapped himself in his cloak next to his tree, lying on his side, facing the fire.
    Soon, the fire began to burn low, its flickering light giving way to the night.  The men's snores and the crackling of the embers of the dying fire were the only sounds in the campsite.  Jake could hear the guards as they made their circuit, passing behind him on a regular basis.  Jake looked closely at the men lying out in front of him, trying to determine if they were all really sleeping.  He was not completely sure, but decided to take the chance.
    He quietly moved the rock against the tree, the broken edge pointing out towards him.  He slowly began to rub his bonds against the rock.  He put pressure on the rope, pushing it back against the rock, trying to speed the cutting.  For several minutes, it did not appear that this was going to work.  Jake was beginning to despair when he felt a slight decrease in tightness of his bonds.  Encouraged, he continued to cut away at the rope.  After what seemed like an eternity, he felt the last strand fall away and his hands were free.
    He sat there, not moving, feeling the pain and tingling as the blood flowed back into his hands.  He slowly flexed his hands, wiggling his fingers, as the feeling came back.  As he sat there, he thought about his next move.  Since he had freed his hands, he knew that this would be his only opportunity to escape.  If he was found