CHAPTER IV
During the first part of the journey, terrified though she was, Hanna struggled to free herself from her bonds. Furious, she struck her captor as hard as she could, but he seemed entirely unaffected.
Kron and the little creature had been stuffed into a sturdy net slung across one of the mounts like a pair of saddlebags. Both seemed resigned to their unpleasant confinement, which jolted violently with every stride of the galloping animal.
The journey was not long, but it was certainly uncomfortable and exhausting. Hanna grew increasingly nauseated. A foul stench rose from the enormous, swift-moving animals, which neighed incessantly as they raced along. Fortunately, they reached their destination before her condition became truly alarming.
Along this stretch of coastline, the beaches seemed considerably wider. As they emerged from the last hollow in the terrain, three enormous ships came majestically into view, apparently grounded along the shore.
The place was teeming with activity.
People and animals moved up and down a huge ramp, along with an astonishing assortment of equipment and objects that Hanna could not yet make sense of. Long lines of chained prisoners filed in and out of a great vessel. Wild beasts and other animals, confined in cages, were also being loaded aboard or brought ashore.
In short, all the activity that had been so conspicuously absent elsewhere on the island seemed to have gathered in full force along this narrow strip of coast.
The horses finally stopped at what appeared to be the heart of the encampment.
Hanna was terrified. Nothing she saw offered the slightest comfort. Her mind seemed incapable of forming a coherent thought, and sheer panic filled her eyes.
There were crowds of people.
And children. So many children.
All were filthy, and most appeared malnourished. Some were being torn from their parents with unnecessary brutality before undergoing what looked like a rigorous selection process.
The square where they had stopped was surrounded by a crude wall still under construction. Enormous stones were being dragged into place by gigantic creatures under the direction of numerous groups of men.
Everyone seemed to have come from a battle, or something very much like one.
There were heavily armed warriors wearing dark suits of armor so menacing that merely looking at them inspired terror. Other soldiers, dressed in small metal breastplates and helmets, marched in large formations with military precision, their ranks meticulously aligned.
There were also countless horses like the ones that had brought Hanna there.
Many were crowded into small enclosures, where more than a few lay dying. In another pen stood larger animals with glossy coats, apparently receiving much better care.
The entire spectacle was grim and deeply disturbing.
And it became even more so when Hanna’s captors lifted her down, giving her a much broader view of the place.
Far out on the horizon, countless vessels of every size could be seen. Some were approaching, others departing. From those apparently announcing their arrival or departure came a violent, chilling blast that echoed across the water.
Everywhere she looked, activity was frantic.
Yet from the very first moment, Hanna understood that the greatest distinction in this infernal place was between those who held others captive and those who were held captive themselves.
She was overcome with fear.
When she saw Kron being forced into a tiny cage, she tried desperately to reach him.
But suddenly, a powerful voice spoke behind her in words she could not understand. A violent tug at her wrists sent her sprawling into a foul-smelling, nauseating puddle.
Her guard was pulling on a cord, trying to drag her toward him.
Hanna resisted.
Despite the terrible pain her defiance caused, she refused to cry out. Instead, she glared at him with open contempt.
The man smiled detestably.
With barely any effort, two more sharp pulls were enough for him to hoist her onto his shoulders.
Even in the grip of her deepest fear, Hanna fought fiercely. As her captor carried her through the central part of the fortification, she continued struggling, refusing to submit without resistance.
Before long, she had become the center of attention.
At the far end of the enclosure, the man threw her roughly and without ceremony into an enormous cage with thick, cold bars.
The floor was covered with what appeared to be filthy straw.
Hanna got to her feet, removed her restraints, and looked around.
She was not alone.
The spacious cage was filled with young people of widely varying ages. There were tiny children who could barely stand, as well as adolescents who appeared somewhat older than she was.
The sight of other children raised her hopes.
Without hesitation, she approached one of the older girls.
“What happened? What are we doing here? What is this place?” she demanded, her voice raised in agitation.
Her urgency stood in stark contrast to the passivity of the others.
They seemed to whisper among themselves, lowering their eyes whenever Hanna looked at them.
Then a voice emerged from the crowd.
“Nektta tu nek! Susdue se bunne ott…” someone murmured.
But before the speaker could finish, a loud, angry voice from outside shattered the silence of their prison.
“Siutt!”
The command was so forceful that nobody uttered another word.
The brief, unfinished sentence had told Hanna nothing. She had not understood a single word.
All she could imagine was that, somehow, she had ended up in some archaic place in a foreign country.
She moved to the side of the cage overlooking the great courtyard and searched desperately for Kron.
There was no sign of him.
Everything she saw was fascinating, incredible, utterly unreal. Yet in her present circumstances, each new sight only deepened her anguish.
The people generally looked normal, although their clothing and appearance were ragged and wildly inconsistent.
Everything else, however, was entirely abnormal.
The animals behaved strangely and looked unnatural. Some appeared to combine features of completely unrelated species.
At times, Hanna even thought she saw things she would never have believed possible on an ordinary day.
Eventually, she resigned herself to being locked up.
The hours passed slowly.
Hunger began to gnaw at her, adding to the distress that had already taken hold of her exhausted body.
Sometime after midday, a very peculiar figure approached the cage.
Despite the oppressive heat, the person was completely covered by a thick, tattered robe. He moved awkwardly, dragging a wooden cart behind him.
The moment the other prisoners saw him, they rushed toward the bars.
The strange man began making his way along the cage. Using a large wooden ladle, he deposited portions of what appeared to be their lunch into the cupped hands of the prisoners, who begged desperately for food.
Hanna was no exception.
Alone at the opposite end of the enclosure, she waited anxiously for the ill-tempered figure to reach her.
The thick, almost solid mush did not look particularly appetizing, but she needed to eat.
By the time her turn came, her stomach reminded her that it would gladly accept almost anything.
Following the example of the others, she stretched her arms through the bars and held out her hands.
The unhygienic cook grumbled under his breath before roughly dropping her portion into the makeshift bowl formed by her palms.
Without once raising his hooded head, the man moved on to the adjoining cage.
Hanna carefully drew her arms back inside, taking great care not to spill any of her meager ration.
By the time she decided to eat, most of her fellow prisoners had already finished. Those who still had food were devouring the whitish mass with astonishing eagerness.
She did not hesitate.
Before her mind could reach any conclusion about whether the viscous concoction was safe to eat, she was already tasting it.
In truth, it was remarkably bland.
There seemed to be no seasoning of any kind. It had almost no flavor at all.
Hanna wondered what she was eating.
But before she could even begin to guess what the strange puree might contain, she found herself licking her fingers.
Looking around at the hungry faces in the cage, she realized that everyone considered the portions far too small.
Nevertheless, nobody complained.
Nobody said a word.
Hanna returned to the bars and decided to follow their example.
A few minutes later, the same man—or someone very much like him—came back toward the cage.
This time he was carrying a barrel on his back, moving rather more quickly despite the heavy burden.
It presumably contained water, judging by the amount that spilled along the way as its bearer staggered awkwardly forward.
When he reached the cage, he set the barrel down directly in front of Hanna.
Then he looked upward and appeared to call for someone.
A large man immediately crossed the creaking wooden roof of the cage and jumped down into the courtyard.
He was drenched in sweat.
The first thing he did was drink from the barrel.
Then he produced an enormous bunch of keys and roughly unlocked the cage.
Hanna was standing very close to the entrance.
The man, who appeared to be some kind of jailer, looked directly at her.
With a single word, he made it clear that she was standing in the wrong place.
“Nanett!” he shouted.
Startled, Hanna hurried backward without taking her eyes off him.
The robed man entered, visibly exhausted.
He slowly tried to maneuver the barrel into position while the jailer, growing increasingly impatient, wiped the sweat from his face with a thick, hairy arm.
Once the barrel was in place, the awkward attendant made his way out.
The jailer slammed the door shut and appeared to berate him for taking so long.
Then he struck him.
The unfortunate man crumpled helplessly to the ground beside the bars.
Moved by curiosity and by the pitiful helplessness of the fallen figure, Hanna approached the edge of the cage.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
The man said nothing.
He brushed off his clothing, rose to his feet, and looked sadly at Hanna.
Then he turned his back on her and continued on his way.
Seeing him at such close range left Hanna speechless.
She stood frozen, unable to forget his face.
It was truly unpleasant to look at. He seemed more like a monster than a person.
His teeth were prominent and sharp. His skin looked hard and rough, and his entire face was covered in enormous, irregular wrinkles, as though he suffered from some strange disease or had been terribly burned.
Suddenly, the cage erupted into activity.
Everyone scrambled toward the barrel.
Although it was large, its contents diminished alarmingly quickly.
Hanna was thirsty too, but she decided to wait. There seemed to be enough water for everyone.
Only after the other prisoners had satisfied their thirst did she finally approach.
Two small boys remained beside the barrel. They were too short to reach the water.
Hanna decided to help them.
At first, they seemed reluctant to let her touch them, but she gently lifted each child so he could drink.
Once their thirst was quenched, they hurried silently back to the main group, which lay huddled together and half asleep at the opposite end of the cage.
Hanna abandoned any hope of receiving even the smallest gesture of gratitude.
She was the last to drink.
The water was quite cloudy, so she waited a little for the sediment to settle.
Then she dipped her hands into the barrel and, with some reluctance, swallowed the liquid.
It was the same kind of water she remembered drinking from the stream, although this time she drank deeply until her thirst was completely satisfied.
Finally, she scooped up a little more and splashed it over her face.
That did not seem to please some of the others, who appeared to reproach her for wasting it.
While her fellow prisoners seemed to be sleeping, Hanna tried to study the unreal spectacle of this remote place.
Despite her best efforts to locate Kron, she found nothing.
As she had feared, there was no trace of him.
Countless cages, filled with their miserable occupants, lined the courtyard. Within minutes, some were hauled away toward the ships now crowding this narrow stretch of coastline, only to be replaced by others awaiting their turn.
Still, Hanna refused to abandon hope.
Something inside her insisted that she would see her friend again soon, even though the grim reality around her suggested otherwise.
She was terribly tired.
After briefly dozing off beside the bars, she decided to find somewhere more comfortable.
Moving back toward the wall, she gathered a little straw into a pile and tried to make herself a reasonably soft bed.
Then she curled up in a fetal position.
Using an elastic band she wore around her wrist, she tied up her hair and tried to fall asleep.
More than anything, she wished that when she opened her eyes, she would find herself back at St. James, far from this nightmare.
The afternoon wore on.
As the sun began to sink, Hanna awoke again.
Her sleep had been deep and, judging by her expression, rather pleasant.
But the moment she remembered where she was, misery enveloped her once more.
The rays of the setting sun now streamed directly into the cage, dazzling its occupants.
Her mouth was dry.
Still half asleep, she slowly approached the barrel, dipped her filthy hands inside, and managed to drink a little water.
It was difficult. The barrel was almost empty.
Little had changed inside the cage.
Her companions remained motionless, seemingly waiting in silence.
Hanna decided to try communicating with them again, this time much more discreetly.
She approached the group and began using gestures to convey what their different languages prevented her from saying.
They watched her attentively.
Although her elaborate attempts at communication accomplished very little, she gradually seemed to become part of the group.
Nobody spoke, but now they looked at her with interest.
Hanna decided to remain among them.
The inability to hold even the simplest conversation was deeply frustrating, yet she found some small comfort in the feeling that the others had accepted her presence.
As evening approached, she sat motionless, trying to imagine what uncertain future awaited her.
Her fellow prisoners grew increasingly curious about her.
Some touched her hair and clothing with obvious admiration.
One particularly bold boy even reached toward her neck.
But when he noticed the gleaming chain, which until then had remained hidden beneath her sweater, his expression changed to one of concern.
He discreetly tried to attract her attention.
Clearly, he wanted to tell her something.
Hanna was bewildered by the sudden intensity of his interest.
Yet his eyes and gestures gradually made her understand that wearing the chain openly would only bring her trouble.
Alarmed, she remembered that the dagger was still in her pocket.
Growing increasingly nervous and uncertain what to do, she decided to hide both possessions.
Suddenly, the hurried footsteps of several people disturbed the calm.
Once again, the jailer descended quickly from his position to open the cage.
But this time his attitude was entirely different.
With his head lowered, he knelt before the first man in the approaching group.
He said nothing.
He almost seemed to be trembling with fear.
There were no greetings, no gestures, no courtesies of any kind.
The newcomer wore a suit of armor so sinister that everyone in the courtyard stared at him with dread.
A faint aura of darkness seemed to surround him, as though he radiated anger, hatred, or something equally terrible, flickering ominously around his imposing figure.
Without speaking, he entered the cage.
His enormous size forced him to stoop.
Then, accompanied by the sharp metallic sound of his boots, he strode directly toward the group of children, who now watched him in terror.
“Le-lejt!” he commanded.
His voice was so malevolent that it seemed to reverberate throughout the enclosure.
Everyone stood.
Everyone except Hanna.
Caught completely off guard, she remained frozen, trembling.
The man turned toward her with a sudden, violent movement.
Clearly enraged, he reached out with a sharp-looking hand, caught her beneath the chin, and forced her to look up at him.
Behind his helmet, his eyes seemed to flash with fury.
He studied her from head to toe.
Then he spoke in a voice that was both harsh and strangely high-pitched, terrifying beyond doubt.
“At Drujas. Ort net tak nem?”
Hanna understood that this horrifying figure wanted something from her.
But she could not force a single word past her lips.
Her eyes struggled desperately to hold back tears.
After a second that seemed to last forever, the man lifted her effortlessly into the air and repeated his question, shaking her angrily.
“Ort net tak nem?!”
The violence of his movements caused Hanna’s hair to tumble loose in its full length. Until that moment, she had been wearing it gathered into a kind of bun.
The man seemed startled.
Despite the dirt that covered it, her hair shone brilliantly.
He examined her closely, breathing so heavily that a sharp sound seemed to emerge from his iron helmet.
Her unusual clothing had already caught his attention.
But once he realized she was a girl, he lost all interest.
He abruptly released her and turned his violent attention toward the other prisoners.
Hanna drew a deep breath.
She was profoundly grateful that she had managed to conceal her chain and the dagger in the tightly packed layer of straw beneath her feet.
The interrogation continued for more than half an hour.
It was intense and cruel.
Then the prisoners were searched one by one.
For most, the process was simple enough. They wore little more than loincloths.
For Hanna, however, it was considerably more unpleasant.
She was forced to remove her shoes, socks, pants, and the rest of her clothing, leaving her in her underwear.
In exchange, she was given a few torn scraps of fabric, which she skillfully arranged to cover her slender body.
Once the degrading procedure was over, the prisoners were divided into two groups.
At one end of the cage, the girls and the youngest children huddled together.
At the other, the older boys waited in a line near the exit, almost naked.
One by one, shackles were fastened around their wrists and ankles.
They were about to leave the prison.
Their resigned expressions suggested that they expected nothing but a miserable and dreadful fate.
Hanna said nothing.
She was sad. Terribly sad, and deeply worried.
But she had come to understand that drawing attention to herself would only make matters worse.
So she remained silent, blending into the frightened, sorrowful group.
When the boys finally left the cage, filing silently and mournfully toward one of the ships, many of those who remained behind began to cry.
Hanna cried too.
She wondered what terrible things were happening in this place—and why she, of all people, had been forced to endure them.
There were no answers.
Since arriving, she had found nothing but more questions.
And at that moment, her fear, sadness, and helplessness began to change into something new.
Hatred.
A fierce, visceral hatred for these wicked people.
It rose within her, overwhelming everything else.
Summoning every ounce of courage she possessed, Hanna made herself a promise.
She would find a way out.
The sun disappeared quickly, and a bitterly cold breeze arrived with the darkness of night.
Stars glittered overhead.
Far below them, in that desolate courtyard, Hanna tried to work out how she might escape.
The cold began penetrating her half-naked body.
She huddled against her fellow prisoners, trembling uncontrollably, trying to borrow a little warmth from those around her.
The pile of clothing they had been forced to remove was still there.
Nobody had come to collect it.
Hanna did not want to attract attention, but after the day’s oppressive heat, the cold breeze now swept through the cage, and she could not stop shivering.
She looked around.
Then, moving very slowly, she made her way toward the discarded clothes.
It was difficult to see in the darkness, but by feeling through the garments, she soon found her own.
She carefully put them back on.
Then she gathered the remaining clothes and carried them over to the group.
At first, the others paid little attention.
But before long, one after another began retrieving their belongings.
Eventually, nothing remained of the pile.
Hanna was still trembling.
Then, without warning, a hand appeared beside her, holding a small animal skin.
Perhaps it had belonged to one of the unfortunate boys who was no longer there.
Without speaking, its owner laid it over her.
The thin covering did little to dispel the cold.
Nevertheless, a pleasant warmth seemed to pass through Hanna—not from the skin itself, but from the unexpected kindness.
The night wore on.
Although she remained awake, she made a great show of being fast asleep whenever the guards passed the cage.
Countless bonfires now illuminated the beach.
Around them gathered large groups of aggressive-looking men, apparently surrendering to the intoxicating effects of some strange drink they swallowed without pause.
The courtyard was much quieter.
Numerous torches cast a faint glow across the enclosure.
The soldiers stationed there maintained their watch with admirable discipline, despite the wind and cold growing steadily more severe.
Long before the first hint of dawn, two soldiers approached the cage quietly.
Once inside, they ordered the prisoners to form a line.
Everyone looked sleepy, including the guards.
One by one, the captives climbed into a large wooden wagon, without shackles or any other restraints.
The wagon’s only apparent security consisted of uneven, sharpened stakes fixed along its upper edge.
Hanna reacted quickly.
She searched through the straw for her dagger and chain.
For several agonizing seconds, she feared she would never find them again.
Then her restless fingers finally closed around the two precious objects.
She slipped them back into her pocket and fastened the small button that secured it.
Only then did she take her place in line.
She was the last to climb into the wagon.
Once aboard, she pretended to fall into a deep sleep.
The wagon began moving, drawn by two enormous horses, and headed toward the shore.
Through half-closed eyes, Hanna studied her surroundings.
The wagon appeared poorly secured, and the two guards driving it looked exhausted.
An opportunity was presenting itself.
She decided to escape.
It was by no means an easy decision.
But the mere thought of what might await her in the immediate future was enough to keep her from hesitating for long.
The road was full of ruts and bumps, making her plan difficult.
She had to hurry.
The journey would be short, and the darkness was now at its deepest, with the first suggestion of sunrise barely visible on the horizon.
Most of the bonfires had burned down.
The men who had been shouting and drinking earlier now lay asleep around their dying fires.
A few remained seated, struggling unsuccessfully to keep their balance in their thoroughly drunken state.
Then the wagon entered a short stretch of deep sand.
The horses slowed.
Hanna seized her chance.
With an athletic movement, she leaped from the wagon.
A sharp pain shot through her as one of the pointed stakes briefly pierced her skin.
But she managed to land.
She lay perfectly still, blending into the dark sand.
Her escape went unnoticed by her captors, who seemed too busy complaining about the wagon’s slow progress.
Some of the children who had shared her cage, however, had witnessed everything.
Fortunately for Hanna, none of them said a word.
They watched her with eyes full of hope, as though silently wishing her the freedom they themselves would probably never know.