Free Redemption of Thieves (Book 4) by C.Greenwood Page A

interior.
    Driven by the force of my captor’s shoves, I stumbled into the far wall. Before I had time to regain my balance and turn, I heard the narrow door behind me being drawn closed and secured. Clutching the narrow wooden bars, I closed my eyes for a second. What cruel twist of fate had brought me into this mess? I had come hunting Skeltai and instead had become their captive. Thinking to damage my enemies, I had stumbled unwittingly into their waiting hands. Not only that but I’d delivered more victims into their grasp.
    I realized I wasn’t alone. Looking around me, I identified other sorry figures slumped in dejected poses along the walls of the cage—my companions in this failed venture. Or as many, I supposed, as remained of them. Bloodied and disarmed, the Fists didn’t look quite as impressive as they had at the start of the day. Only one of them, a wiry little man I vaguely remembered seeing before, left the shadows to wordlessly help me loosen my hands, before he drifted away.
    The moment my hands were free I grabbed my bow, which my captors had slung crookedly and somewhat ridiculously around my neck before bringing me out here. Resettling it in its rightful place across my back, I wondered what had prompted them to let me keep it. I could only guess it had something to do with their grudging reluctance to separate the bow from my hands by force.
    Now it was time to assess my chances of escaping this wooden box.
    I noticed my fellow prisoners had managed to free themselves of their bonds. But it looked like they had given up after that, and they sat, silent and apparently resigned to their fates. Fear was palpable in the air, as I did a quick mental count.
    Terrac’s voice came from a shadowed corner. “Seven of us remain.”
    Relief flooded through me that he was one of that seven.
    He continued with, “The others were killed in the fighting. It might be best if we had shared in their luck, but I’m afraid a slower and more painful road lies ahead for us.”
    His voice was weak and I detected a tremor of pain, as I scrambled to his sprawled form.
    “Terrac, are you alright?” I could see no injuries on him and it was impossible to tell if the blood spattered across his clothing was his or someone else’s. I made a grab for the buckles of his breast plate but he stopped me.
    “Don’t look, Ilan. It’s too late now.”
    “I have training,” I offered feebly, knowing full well the handful of tricks I had learned at the elbow of Javen the healer weren’t enough to save a man with a mortal injury.
    He caught my hand at the buckles again.
    “Let it be, Ilan,” he said.
    My eyes stung at the gasp of pain it cost him to get out the words. This was all happening too fast. My world was crashing down around me and I couldn’t take it all in. Life without Terrac would be… no life at all. Funny that revelation came to me at a time like this.
    He still held my hand and seemed to be unaware of doing so, as he said, “There’s a favor I need to ask of you.”
    I didn’t hesitate. “Of course. Anything.”
    “I need…” He winced, stiffening with pain. “I need you to forgive me.”
    What was he talking about? I said, “I don’t understand. Forgive you for what?”
    “Listen. I was wrong to act as I did when you came to rescue me all those years ago in Selbius. I’ve regretted my words ever since. I’ve messed up a lot of things, maybe we both have. I just want everything as it should be now… at the end. I need you forgive me and say we’re friends again.”
    “Of course, of course. We were never anything else.”
    “You swear to that?”
    “I swear it.”
    He smiled weakly and I squeezed his hand. Did his life force feel weaker than it had? Did I sense him slipping away even now?
    He moved abruptly to hoist himself into a sitting position.
    “What are you doing?” I pressed a firm hand on his shoulder. “You should be lying down. Movement will open the wound farther.”
    He