The Mongol Ascension by Andrew Varga

Author:Andrew Varga
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: high school, mongolia, mongol empire, history, battles, end of world, time jumpers, time wands
Publisher: Imbrifex Books
Published: 2024-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Not surprisingly, the universe didn’t bother responding to my plea. I shut my eyes and buried my face in the grass. Around me, the drunken snores of all six Merkits wafted through the night.

I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. You can do this.

Slowly I curled my legs in until the heels of my boots were touching my butt. While my ears strained to catch any changes in snoring, I reached for the knotted leather around my ankles. In the dim glow of the dying embers, my fingernails dug into the shapeless knots, trying to loosen them. I scrabbled at them for probably ten minutes, then gave up in frustration.

Clearly I wasn’t getting out of here without cutting the straps. I needed something sharp.

I lay flat on my stomach, hoping to feel a nice jagged rock sticking into me like I did on most camping trips. Nothing. The ground around me was completely smooth.

The obvious solution was the Merkits—each man carried a blade tucked into his belt. But realistically, what were my chances of stealing one without being noticed? In the dark, with my hands tied behind my back?

My eyes darted over to the fire, where a few half-burned sticks still glowed red at their ends. That might do it.

I slithered on my belly to the fire and grasped one of the sticks by its unburnt end, pulling it out of the fire. By lying on my side, I managed to curl my legs around until the stick’s glowing tip touched the leather strap binding my feet. No sizzle. No pop as the leather snapped. Just a feeling of warmth near my ankle that I could soon feel through my boot.

Five sticks later, the leather strap around my ankles had a definite indentation from the repeated singeing. If I kept up the routine, the thin strip of hide was bound to snap. Unfortunately, the fire had died down to the point where only a few small embers remained. My supply of smouldering sticks had run out.

I tugged at the straps binding my ankles but, no matter how I pulled, the leather would not break. How could I break these stupid straps? Come on, Dan. Think!

My eyes fell again on the pile of sticks, and an idea hit me. I selected the thickest one and slid it under the strap until a roughly equal length stuck out on both sides. Slowly I began to rotate the stick in a circle, twisting the leather strap tighter and tighter. My ankles jammed together, bone pushing against bone, even through my boots. I gritted my teeth from the pain and twisted again. The stick became harder to turn as the leather grew even tighter. Something had to give soon: stick, strap, or ankle.

I threw my head back and twisted one last time. With a quiet pop, the weakened leather strap snapped apart. I froze in place, straining to hear whether any Merkits had woken up at the sound. Their loud snores assured me they all still slept.

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