CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Mafik swung his blade to cut the rope Castar was hanging from. Castar fell to the sand, groaning in pain as he landed on his bruised back. His hand closed around Castar's neck and he pulled him off the ground and led him out of the bush. Mafik led him to an open lot, somewhere. The land bore no grasses. The rocks were pale and the land looked like it was suffering from drought.

Castar wondered why he was freed from the ropes. His hands were still tied behind his back, but at least he was no longer hanging upside down from a tree. From a distance, he could make out the figure of a man standing in the middle of open land. The hem of his cloak rested on the jagged rocks beneath the soles of his feet, his face obscured by the hood that protruded from his cloak. He held a sword in both hands.

The sun had risen, and the blade reflected its light, casting it in Castar's eyes as he came at him. Mafik forced Castar to his knees the moment they both reached the cloaked figure. Castar looked up
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