surrounded by crates and boxes, hard beams arching overhead with oilcloth stretched across them. He moved experimentally, pausing when the scrape of metal against wood rolled out. When it settled and nothing else happened, he moved again. Again, the sound rolled out. Slowly, he turned. He could feel it against his neck, then. A metal collar, pressing against throat and tendons. A chain ran behind him, attaching to a heavy bolt in the side of the wagon -- the same sort of bolts the crates were attached to, to keep them from sliding.
The air was musty, the heat nearly suffocating. An experimental tug on his bonds sent waves of pain up his arms from skin raw and torn, and gave him no leeway whatsoever. He had no way of knowing how long they'd been traveling, but the soreness where he rested against the floor made him suspect hours.
Hours toward the border. Had they crossed it yet? He didn't know. It seemed likely.
Drugs pulled at his awareness, urging him to sink back into a stupor. It was easier than facing the world. No chance to escape here. Maybe, once they'd reached somewhere, he could tell his story. They'd have to take his gag off sometime.
Thief, the porter had said with such disgust, and he knew that was a story that would be gladly believed. How many thieves and convicts had tried to claim innocence? How many had been telling the truth?
Ashe's stomach sank. He tried to think of nothing, blocking out the world.
Light battered against his lids. Voices battered against his ears, and then the door in the back of the wagon screeched open. Ashe stared. People entered in silhouette: a small, lean man followed by a tall shape, backed by two hulking behemoths. Guards, those. They stayed at the doorway while the other two walked in, the taller stooping to keep from brushing the roof.
The smaller of the two was familiar, and wore iron manacles around both wrists, attached by a long chain.
Ashe's eyes widened. He struggled again, trying to speak through the gag, protest this new comer. Katsu couldn't be here. He couldn't.
There was a flash of concern across Katsu's face, and then his mask of annoyance fell back into place. "Stop it," he said brusquely. "You're going to make things worse." He knelt, placing one hand on Ashe's chest, the other on his forehead. Ashe lay still, watching, hoping this wasn't really true.
Byron stood behind Katsu, leaning negligently against a crate. He seemed comfortable even in the cramped aisle between boxes.
"What did you give him?" Katsu asked sourly, hands shifting again. Metal scraped across wood and banged together as he moved.
"Just a sedative. Something to keep him calm."
"Of course," Katsu muttered. He took his hands away, crouching back on his heels as if he were entirely comfortable. "We have a deal, then?"
"Indeed." Byron picked up the chain that ran between Katsu's manacles, leaned over the wall, and attached them to the bolt Ashe was attached to. "If you untie him, you're responsible for him. I suggest you both keep quiet."
Mouth a pale line, Katsu nodded. He remained crouched, head slightly bowed as his gaze stayed steady on Ashe, until Byron was out of the wagon. The door closed, and Ashe heard a bolt slide home outside. As soon as they were locked in, Katsu reached up and started working on the knot in Ashe's gag.
Ashe would have been happy to rip it off, but Katsu had other ideas. Carefully, Katsu worked with it, tugging so gently on hair that had gotten wrapped up in cloth that Ashe almost couldn't feel it. Katsu peeled the material away, leaving only the ball stuffed in Ashe's mouth. Ashe gave a muffled yelp as the air hit his chafed skin, tears stinging his eyes. With the binding gone, he pushed at the gag with his tongue, spitting it out. His jaw ached, wedged open for so long, and it seared his lungs to take a breath.
Katsu rubbed carefully at Ashe's jaw muscle, dexterous fingers easing away the low pain.
"What are you doing here?" Ashe croaked at last, pulling
The air was musty, the heat nearly suffocating. An experimental tug on his bonds sent waves of pain up his arms from skin raw and torn, and gave him no leeway whatsoever. He had no way of knowing how long they'd been traveling, but the soreness where he rested against the floor made him suspect hours.
Hours toward the border. Had they crossed it yet? He didn't know. It seemed likely.
Drugs pulled at his awareness, urging him to sink back into a stupor. It was easier than facing the world. No chance to escape here. Maybe, once they'd reached somewhere, he could tell his story. They'd have to take his gag off sometime.
Thief, the porter had said with such disgust, and he knew that was a story that would be gladly believed. How many thieves and convicts had tried to claim innocence? How many had been telling the truth?
Ashe's stomach sank. He tried to think of nothing, blocking out the world.
Light battered against his lids. Voices battered against his ears, and then the door in the back of the wagon screeched open. Ashe stared. People entered in silhouette: a small, lean man followed by a tall shape, backed by two hulking behemoths. Guards, those. They stayed at the doorway while the other two walked in, the taller stooping to keep from brushing the roof.
The smaller of the two was familiar, and wore iron manacles around both wrists, attached by a long chain.
Ashe's eyes widened. He struggled again, trying to speak through the gag, protest this new comer. Katsu couldn't be here. He couldn't.
There was a flash of concern across Katsu's face, and then his mask of annoyance fell back into place. "Stop it," he said brusquely. "You're going to make things worse." He knelt, placing one hand on Ashe's chest, the other on his forehead. Ashe lay still, watching, hoping this wasn't really true.
Byron stood behind Katsu, leaning negligently against a crate. He seemed comfortable even in the cramped aisle between boxes.
"What did you give him?" Katsu asked sourly, hands shifting again. Metal scraped across wood and banged together as he moved.
"Just a sedative. Something to keep him calm."
"Of course," Katsu muttered. He took his hands away, crouching back on his heels as if he were entirely comfortable. "We have a deal, then?"
"Indeed." Byron picked up the chain that ran between Katsu's manacles, leaned over the wall, and attached them to the bolt Ashe was attached to. "If you untie him, you're responsible for him. I suggest you both keep quiet."
Mouth a pale line, Katsu nodded. He remained crouched, head slightly bowed as his gaze stayed steady on Ashe, until Byron was out of the wagon. The door closed, and Ashe heard a bolt slide home outside. As soon as they were locked in, Katsu reached up and started working on the knot in Ashe's gag.
Ashe would have been happy to rip it off, but Katsu had other ideas. Carefully, Katsu worked with it, tugging so gently on hair that had gotten wrapped up in cloth that Ashe almost couldn't feel it. Katsu peeled the material away, leaving only the ball stuffed in Ashe's mouth. Ashe gave a muffled yelp as the air hit his chafed skin, tears stinging his eyes. With the binding gone, he pushed at the gag with his tongue, spitting it out. His jaw ached, wedged open for so long, and it seared his lungs to take a breath.
Katsu rubbed carefully at Ashe's jaw muscle, dexterous fingers easing away the low pain.
"What are you doing here?" Ashe croaked at last, pulling
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