“Another sleep spell and he might be out for a day or two. We best not risk it.”

A dull tingle alerted Jerico to the uncomfortable position of his arm beneath him. He shifted, pulling his weight off it. The movement earned him a kick in the side, which his platemail thankfully absorbed. Worse was the pain that awoke in his once-sleeping arm, feeling like a thousand ants crawling through his veins, biting him.

“Would someone like to tell me what’s going on?” he asked. His head pounded, and his stomach lurched with every bob of the net. From what he could see, the net was attached to a thick branch, carried on either side by two large men.

“Shut up,” said the big lug behind him, kicking again. This time the boot connected with his head. The world spinning, he vomited. Much fell through the gaps of the net, but some stuck to the rope, and it smeared against his cheek.

“What a mess,” the not-so-old man named Bellok said. “Don’t worry, the sickness is just a residual effect of the spell. You’ll feel fine soon enough.”

“Wonderful,” Jerico muttered. “Can I speak, or will I get kicked again?”

“Let him talk,” Bellok said. “He’s no wizard. His words can’t hurt you.”

“I just want him to stop moving,” said the man at Jerico’s feet. “He’s too damn heavy.”

“If I’d known I was going for a ride, I’d have taken off my armor.”

No one seemed amused by Jerico’s joke, which disappointed him. If he could get them to laugh, he could get them to like him. Instead he saw two brutes carrying him, neither cracking a grin, plus Bellok walking beside him. Jerico turned his attention to Bellok, figuring him the most talkative of the bunch.

“So… Bellok, right? Where am I going again? I heard rumors of Kaide being a cannibal, so before anything else, please tell me I’m not about to be roasted over an open fire.”

Bellok rolled his eyes and made a loud scoffing noise.