‹ Prequel: Going Bush
Going Bush 2: Suburbia
58
When the attackers appeared to get bored, they left their victim tied to the post and went off to get drunk. When they were sure there was no one left, Lukka and Tranu began to sneak away through the trees. Siemme looked back at Taylor and Ibby before following. Ibby indicated for Taylor to follow, but when Taylor looked down he saw that they were making their way out to check on the beaten man. He shook his head, obviously shaking a little.
Ibby gave him another pat on the back, opting to stay with him instead of following the others.
As they watched on, the three boys checked the man over, before beginning to carefully untie his bonds. When the man’s body collapsed, they carried him away. Once they were out of sight Ibby stood up and indicated for Taylor to follow him back to the stables. Thankful that he could get back to somewhere that was somewhat safe, Taylor quickly followed.
Back in the stall Ibby replaced the chain to its usual post before giving Taylor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Taylor gave him a nod to confirm that he was okay, before Ibby closed the gate and left.
*
The next morning the same tapping woke Taylor for the second day in a row. This time a voice came with it.
“Taaaaaaaylorrrrrrrrrr…”
Taylor looked up to see the same young eyes watching him through the gate.
“Who are you?” he asked softly, not wanting to move in case it scared him off.
“Who are you?” the voice came back.
Taylor smiled, before rolling onto his side. As previously thought the moment he moved the child took off running. With a groan, his head hit the hay again.
The bulk of the day was spent recreating the day before. Ibby fetched him in the morning, he spent breakfast in the hall with the woman, and afterward accompanied her wherever she needed to go. She spent a lot of time in an office doing computer work, and the rest making sure that other people were doing theirs. As the day wore on, she took Taylor out into the yard. As they passed by the post where the beating had taken place he diverted his eyes warily. There was still a pool of blood on the ground and drag marks from where the boys had pulled him away.
Glad they weren’t stopping anywhere near it he followed her into a shed. She greeted a man inside in Spanish before indicating for Taylor to sit in a chair. When Taylor saw it, he couldn’t help but hesitate.
“Sit,” she ordered when she saw him stop.
Taylor gave her a worried glance, but complied. When he was seated in the angled chair his wrists were strapped to the arms securely and the chain removed from his collar. His head leant back into a sort of brace where they tightened leather straps over his forehead and chin to hold it in place. When he was strapped in, his collar was removed.
He heard the harsh clangs of metal beside him before the woman said something in Spanish and a large golden ring was passed to her over Taylor’s eye line. He immediately closed them, knowing what was about to happen.
The ring was set in place around his neck, the woman placing a finger beneath it so that it wouldn’t choke him as the blacksmith pulled it together at the back. Bracing himself for the heat he knew was coming, Taylor clutched the arms of the chair until his knuckles went white.
The first time the blacksmith accidentally hit his neck, he couldn’t help but cry out. The woman rushed to tend to his burn, but couldn’t stop it from happening twice more.
Ibby gave him another pat on the back, opting to stay with him instead of following the others.
As they watched on, the three boys checked the man over, before beginning to carefully untie his bonds. When the man’s body collapsed, they carried him away. Once they were out of sight Ibby stood up and indicated for Taylor to follow him back to the stables. Thankful that he could get back to somewhere that was somewhat safe, Taylor quickly followed.
Back in the stall Ibby replaced the chain to its usual post before giving Taylor’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Taylor gave him a nod to confirm that he was okay, before Ibby closed the gate and left.
*
The next morning the same tapping woke Taylor for the second day in a row. This time a voice came with it.
“Taaaaaaaylorrrrrrrrrr…”
Taylor looked up to see the same young eyes watching him through the gate.
“Who are you?” he asked softly, not wanting to move in case it scared him off.
“Who are you?” the voice came back.
Taylor smiled, before rolling onto his side. As previously thought the moment he moved the child took off running. With a groan, his head hit the hay again.
The bulk of the day was spent recreating the day before. Ibby fetched him in the morning, he spent breakfast in the hall with the woman, and afterward accompanied her wherever she needed to go. She spent a lot of time in an office doing computer work, and the rest making sure that other people were doing theirs. As the day wore on, she took Taylor out into the yard. As they passed by the post where the beating had taken place he diverted his eyes warily. There was still a pool of blood on the ground and drag marks from where the boys had pulled him away.
Glad they weren’t stopping anywhere near it he followed her into a shed. She greeted a man inside in Spanish before indicating for Taylor to sit in a chair. When Taylor saw it, he couldn’t help but hesitate.
“Sit,” she ordered when she saw him stop.
Taylor gave her a worried glance, but complied. When he was seated in the angled chair his wrists were strapped to the arms securely and the chain removed from his collar. His head leant back into a sort of brace where they tightened leather straps over his forehead and chin to hold it in place. When he was strapped in, his collar was removed.
He heard the harsh clangs of metal beside him before the woman said something in Spanish and a large golden ring was passed to her over Taylor’s eye line. He immediately closed them, knowing what was about to happen.
The ring was set in place around his neck, the woman placing a finger beneath it so that it wouldn’t choke him as the blacksmith pulled it together at the back. Bracing himself for the heat he knew was coming, Taylor clutched the arms of the chair until his knuckles went white.
The first time the blacksmith accidentally hit his neck, he couldn’t help but cry out. The woman rushed to tend to his burn, but couldn’t stop it from happening twice more.