Korak tugged in frustration at the ropes holding his arms above his head. They’d hauled him with him struggling and resisting back to his feet. Spread-eagled him between two trees, ropes on his wrists snaked up to the trunks.
Free now from the punches thrown at him .. released from the weight that had been pinning him down on the earth .. in frustrating madness Korak tugged and yanked to try and get free. Pulling like mad on the ropes that spread out his arms above his shoulders.
Not that he thought it would help. Deep-down he knew it would get him nowhere. Nothing since his capture had shown him a flaw in this tribe’s treatment of him, they’d made not one mistake. But he’d missed that chance he’d made for himself. Flinging himself at the shaman .. knocking him to the ground .. but they’d been on him before he got a second punch in.
He’d missed his chance. And he was mad as hell. Mad with himself. Dragged off the shaman by his feet .. pulled over the compound .. his chest and face scraping in the grit .. still his madness had fuelled his efforts to break free. Kicked in the side as they were still hauling him away .. Korak had kept up his struggles.
As soon as they’d stopped dragging him, he’d gone for it again. Every move stung inside but he had to break free, he was in for a severe retaliation. He had to try everything .. anything. But a massive weight thudded down on his back. A fistful of pain pounded into the back of his neck .. nearly knocking him out.
By the time his senses stopped spinning, hands were all over his feet. His arms had been dragged up above his head. Korak had sensed the danger, he’d felt sturdy rope being tied to his arms .. shoulders spread out. He had bawled out in his fight .. he’d yanked back on his arms .. he’d writhed like crazy under the weight of the warrior seated across his back. A hand had grabbed into his hair. Slammed his face into the dirt. And kept it pressed down there.
For all his fight .. for all his desperate struggles .. Korak was stood upright between two trees. His legs were trapped in a leg-stretcher, his arms in a parallel position above his shoulders. Naked still, legs wide apart, Korak felt his vulnerability. But he wasn’t going to give in to his fears. He wanted to kill! He was not one to sink under the pressure of threats. He knew what they were capable of ….. his innards still burned like fury from that evil potion rammed up his arse.
He was in deep shit. That attack on their shaman …. That was going to cost. He’d seen what they’d done to Nguana. His friend had lost his will. Tortured out of his soul. Ever-spontaneous, rash to his own detriment …. Nguana was a shadow of his real self after days in the hands of this tribe.
They’d not do that to him, Korak swore. He’d keep his spirit fired up. He’d keep on battling. But …… was it only a matter of a few hours since this nightmare had begun? And look what they’d done to him in that short time.
Korak’s thoughts were halted by spotting the chief stood observing him. As if to send the message of defiance back, Korak again tugged away at the bonds trapping his strength. He wasn’t going to get away, that was clear, he’d not escape what he had coming to him .. he’d pay heavily for that attack. But his muscular body wrote the message loud and clear. As he tugged, his muscled belly rippled .. and the fires of hell scorched him inside. But he was not giving in. There was plenty of fight left in him still.