As he bent down and cupped his hands, he was startled to see a body being pulled down the river towards him. Darn thieves littering the water with their victims. He waded into the river and grabbed hold of the body as it came by. He dragged the body out of the river and stopped in surprise. The young man was still alive! He quickly moved the body up the embankment to his camp. What had the thieves done to him! His arm and leg were gashed and his shirt had been burned through to the skin. He was also beginning to show bruises all over his body, including a lump on his head. The poor kid would be in a lot of pain when he woke up, if he woke up. The cold water had luckily stopped the bleeding. The man quickly stripped off the remains of the clothes, dried him, and dressed the wounds of the young man and covered him in warm blankets. He did not want to risk a fire with the thieves so close. He just hoped the boy could hold on until the sun came up in the morning. * * * * * Awareness slowly began to creep back into Traven’s battered body. At first, all that he was aware of was a biting pain that seemed to emanate from every inch of his body. Slowly the pain faded away and was replaced by extreme soreness covering most of his body with spots of pain on his upper left arm and right thigh. He opened his eyes and blinked in the brightness of dawn. He squinted against the light and tried to clear his head. What was going on? Suddenly Traven remembered the attack and Meritza. He tried to sit up but fell back down with a groan after only moving up a couple of inches. Next to where he lay, a small fire crackled and the aroma of fish cooking filled the air. He was coverd with a pile of furs and blankets. He felt for his stone and was relieved to find it still around his neck. His chest, left arm, and right thigh were bandaged. How had he ended up here? He looked around slowly, fighting against the pain in his head, to see whose camp this was. Maybe the caravan had finally driven the thieves back.
