Alkorn awoke with a bump. He coughed at the pungent scent of manure, then tried to reach for his throbbing head. He moved his hand a few inches, but it jerked to a stop with the jingle of chains. He was lying face down, straw rubbing against his face. He leaned his head back, grimacing with pain and opened his eyes. He was at the bottom of a wagon. He had been chained down, and a layer of hay had been hastily thrown over top of him. The sun was just peeking over the horizon in front of him, and he blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light.
Two men sat in the seat ahead of him. They were clothed in peasant garb, but Alkorn could just make out the light armor underneath. Their weapons were probably just ahead of him, also covered in hay, but still within reach. He could hear people outside the wagon, going about their groggy morning rituals and giving their morning greetings.
He tested the chains. One of the guards started to look back and Alkorn dropped his head. When he faced forward Alkorn tried again, quieter this time. They were well fastened and tight, he wouldn't be working his way out of them. Alkorn tried to guess where he might be. They were likely taking him to the mage quarters. Mages tended to be loner-types, no children with prying eyes, and the magic users themselves were smart enough to keep their mouths shut.
He could scream, but that would likely just get him hit over the head again, and a few citizens killed soon after. No, had been captured. He could only hope Erik had a plan to get his people to safety.