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Zephyr and Gale
Chapter 9: Something in Common
After starting her day feeling like a ravenous dog, then spending the rest of it awash in the odors and dinge of the fringe slave market, food was the last thing Gale wanted.
Now soaking in a much desired and needed hot bath, the Dociles drew for her, the scents and tensions drifted off with the steam, but the images did not: the cuts and scars, flies, the blank or hostile eyes of the captured, the crimped, pained faces of mothers hugging daughters, husbands, and sons before being lifted away from each other, and overall the smell of blood and waste like an unholy aura of misery.
Her last conversation with Karis came back to her:
**************
“You don’t look well, Gale.”
“I’m not, Mistress, if I may say so.” It was somewhere between a question and declaration, and she hated how tiny her voice sounded.
“You may. But now that you have, I’ll share this: what you feel now, I felt too, if not worse. I cried on my way back from the market. They beat me for it every time, until I stopped.“I had to learn to quell my emotions and concerns, lock up my anger and disgust, especially where the little children were concerned. It was a painful lesson, quickly learned.
“You’d best learn it too. If they see any weakness, the merchants will scheme to cheat you, and the nobles to usurp you.
“If the slaves see it, they’ll kill you.”
Gale wanted to tell her she learned the wrong lesson. The right one was that you don’t enslave people, but having nowhere to go, she merely nodded.
“May I ask a question?”
“Yes.”
“You said they beat you for it, yet you bear no scars. I still have mine after all these years. How is it you have none?”
“They were healed, but not by those who study medicine.”
Gale knew of such things. In her homeland they called them the Hill Women. They were forced to live in the mountains for their own safety, for they were as feared and hated as they were needed.
“I didn’t know you had such women here. Would you let them heal mine?”
“If you’d like. We can go in another day or two after we sell the stock at the palace.”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
****************
Gale bristled at the thought of being part of it, despite the personal bond with Karis.
Never give in to the illusion that you are more than a slave; slavery may change its style and form, but never its nature.
Gale supposed that in her own way Karis was bound to the nobles, with the added threat of always looking over her shoulders. It became clear to her court and nobility that she was grooming Gale to replace her.
The problem for Gale was that Karis was just feared and respected, not liked, though she was properly given deference at all the feasts.
She told Gale they could keep an eye on her that way, to see if she was getting sick or weakening. At every feast, she risked being poisoned or assassinated.
Surviving the first attempts, she did her best to quell any thoughts of a second attempt.
Nobles died slowly and publicly, and she let the assassins’ corpses rot in the streets.
At the moment, as the ponies swayed beneath them, it was the heat of the sun on her skin and the highgrass flies that plagued her.
Chapter 10: Growing Strong
From the time Amadi told him to guard his tongue, Zephyr was put through the most difficult work he’d ever done, finding it way harder than even what he had to do on the family farm.
In the following seasons, as he learned the names of the tools he used to polish and sharpen, and how to start fires with coal and wood, and work the bellows, and take over the finishing details of whitesmithing, and travel the land to deliver finished work, he began to fill out his clothes.
Though he’d never be massive or bulky, there was no longer any doubt from anyone he was strong, and the bullies that called him scarecrow no longer did. They merely kept their silence when he passed, and didn’t look at him, which suited him fine.
Cowards after all, then.
Amadi also found him to be a quick study, and never had to instruct him more than twice. At times, he did correct and tweak things to help Zephyr’s technique, or shape things more to his own liking, but Zephyr didn’t mind.
He liked Amadi as a mentor: the man was patient with him and explained the reasons for everything he told Zephyr to do. He was patient even when things that weren’t supposed to burn caught fire as a result of Zephyr’s clumsiness or underestimating a task.
It didn’t happen often, so Amadi merely yelled and explained that if he burned them out of house and livelihood, he’d make Zephyr take care of him when he couldn’t work the forge anymore.
Zephyr laughed.
Amadi didn’t.
Zephyr stopped.
From that day on every time he thought of supporting his master he grew even more meticulous and attentive, coming up to the standards of Amadi himself.
To Amadi’s great amusement he saw an increase in the number of young women who were suddenly in need of such things as charms and necklaces. It was work Amadi took in to keep his hidden coffers filled.
He teased Zephyr without mercy on those days, but the boy took it in stride, replying Amadi would soon find himself in an old widow’s web.
Zephyr’s seeming shyness emboldened some of the more adventurous girls, but Amadi knew he was simply perfected the act to use in the next round of training, where he’d likely need the skill to gain access to places a bolder personality would not.
Seeing that he could control himself around women, Amadi viewed it as a good sign for success; that meant he’d be ready sooner rather than later.
And Amadi was going to hate to see him go.
**************
It was snowing the day Zephyr had finished packing, Amadi had gifted him with a leather tool bag he designed himself.
Outside, a girl slightly taller than Zephyr waited for him, her braided red hair speckled with flakes, her black leather clothes stark against the gray and white of the day.
“Thank you for everything, Master Amadi.”
“It’s just ‘Amadi’ now, Zephyr. You passed your apprenticeship long ago.”
“True, but I’m still not yet a Master.”
“In time, my son. May the myriad gods of this land go with you. I cannot remember them all.”
“Nor I.”
They embraced a moment, then parted.
Zephyr turned to the girl. “Ready.”
She nodded, and they trudged off.
“My name is Riselle.” she offered, but he didn’t respond.
After a few steps, Zephyr heard the latch shut on the forge door as Amadi went back to his own life. His heart broke, but not in the way it had when his parents were killed. It was his own lock, he supposed, on closing the door for himself.
*************
“He was like a father to you?”
“Yes.”
“But you are an orphan, yes?”
“Yes. I didn’t say he was my father. Clearly you can see—”
Riselle stopped walking and faced him.
“Then let me ask you this, scarecrow. Are you ready to make more orphans? Can you? Will you? Tell me now if you think you can’t. The forge master taught you how to bend and temper steel to your purpose, that it might serve you and those who pay you.
“But in this new place, we become the steel that bends to the will and purpose of those who pay us. If you can’t resolve to become that, right now, tell me.”
His parents…they killed them in front of him, knowing…even as he pleaded.
“Yet you did nothing. Would you like something else to fight for, to avenge them, now that your hate is kindled?”
As then, so now.
“Yes, Riselle. I will give myself to the will and purpose of those who pay me.”
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Zephyr and Gale
Chapter 7: The Would-Be Scarecrow
“The lads are good, but they’re not gentle. If you expect any sort of coddling on account of your size, forget it. If anything, you’ll be in for more of the shit than most. It’s long days of polishing, fetching, sharpening, stable work, and being knocked about on a whim.
“I understand she named you ‘Zephyr.’ Do you know what that means?”
“No, but it seemed like it had something to do with sailing. She said my sails had been trimmed because I did nothing about my parents being killed, and I was so easily captured.”
The guard stopped, and Zephyr almost bumped into him.
He looked down at the boy, and Zephyr lowered his head, then remembered what Karis told him and looked into the guard’s dark eyes.
The man grunted his approval. “A word of advice, b–,” he paused, “Zephyr. If I may, a word of advice.”
Zephyr nodded, not sure where this was going.
“Sometimes the ships in still waters are eventually in the best position to strike back. Do you understand?”
“No, sir..”
“There’s a story of a gunship that got stalled, and when invaders were about to sail to the coast to take the land after destroying their enemy’s moving ships, the wind stirred and brought the gunship home.
“Can you guess what happened?”
“The ship that came home blasted the enemy ships.”
This time the guard did smile approvingly. “Good lad. Now do you understand?”
“I…think so.”
The guard stopped and faced him. “Cultivate your quiet, Zephyr: watch them, examine their behaviors. Use your shyness to keep in the shadows and let them forget you’re there, but listen to everything. Learn to use weapons in secret so they’ll keep underestimating your fighting ability.
“Then, when you’re ready, attack them first. Now, do you understand?”
After a moment, he said “Yes. I’m waiting for my moment to take my revenge.”
He remembered Mistress Karis asking him if he wanted revenge, and he’d said yes. How had he forgotten that?
The guard unexpectedly tousled Zephyr’s hair. “There’s a good lad.”
They were approaching the camp, and as they got closer, the activity stopped as they approached.
“We don’t need a scarecrow, sir.” said a young man currying a horse. “We’ve no crop field to plant it. Take it somewhere else where it will be useful.”
Those near enough to hear him laughed, which caught the attention of those who hadn’t.
Zephyr felt the weight of their stares, trying not to imagine the taunts, fists, and gods-knew-what-else that would follow.
If they make my life hell, I’ll raise it for all of them. He shuddered at the image the dark thought put in his mind, but whether it was fear or anticipation he couldn’t tell.
The guard stopped in front of a shed with a small fire burning inside of it.
“What’s this?” Zephyr asked.
The guard held up his hand for Zephyr to be quiet, and whistled.
In a moment, a large boy appeared in the doorway.
His skin was shadow black, and his face had white dotted markings on it the color of night stars. He was muscled, and while his dark features were quiet, there was a dark undercurrent to them, as if he could smile while killing you.
Zephyr took a step back, and the boy noticed. He nodded at Zephyr, and Zephyr took another step back.
The boy looked at the guard then, and shook his head.
Sighing, the guard went past him, called Zephyr in, and the boy followed, closing the door behind them.
***************
The sun was setting and the grounds were clear of boys and horses when they emerged.
There’d been hours of gestures, grunts, threatening looks, mocking laughter, and finally an exchange of gold and vigorous shaking of hands.
Zephyr was confused. “I thought I was to be a squire.”
“You were, but you’re better off here.”
“You disobeyed your orders?”
“No,” he lied. “And see that you don’t disobey yours,” the guard said, and left.
The shadow man put a large hand on Zephyr’s shoulder and sat him down at the small table in a dark corner. The chair for it looked on the verge of collapse, but Zephyr’s size was not a threat to complete it.
In short order, the smell of stout fare and roasting meat made him think less of his current situation as his stomach, fueled by the exotic scents, made noises that overrode his anxiety.
****************
The man brought out a heaping plate of meat and cheese, and a pitcher of something he called apricot wine. Zephyr had never heard of such a thing, and when he drank it, it had the delightful effect of giving him a false sense of well-being.
As they ate, the man let Zephyr know that the guard had bribed him to accept Zephyr as an apprentice, when he was supposed to go to the mines.
“The Queen will be mad you got out, and will likely come for you in due time.”
“And you, for helping me.”
“No, not really. They’re actually afraid of you, hearing that you went through the naming ritual with Karis herself.”
“Why did you take me as an apprentice?”
Amadi chuckled. “You need muscles, and I need an assistant. My workload is growing, and there’s talk of war.”
“There’s always talk of war.”
“True. But this time, it may not be just tongues wagging in the wind.”
Zephyr sighed, his brow furrowed. “I won’t allow myself to be taken again.”
Amadi sat down, leaned on his elbows and looked at Zephyr.
“They told me some of your story, that you lost your parents.”
“I didn’t lose them. They were murdered in front of me.”
A boy of plain speech. That is not good.
Amadi smiled, warming to his new charge. “A word of caution, Zephyr: plain speech is not the stuff of nobles and courts. Everything is clouded with the softest of words, including the most evil of intentions.
“Between you and me we may speak so, but not so in the presence of others. You understand?”
“I do.”
“Good. Finish your wine, and I’ll show you where the tools are stored. After that, we sleep.”
Chapter 8: Gauntlet of Chains
The day dawned cold and cloudy.
Gale tied a shawl around her shoulders to keep it from shifting with the rocking motion of the mountain pony walking in the wake of Karis’ mule.
Horses were sold in the marketplace, so no others were permitted in the market.
Gale scanned the sky, her hopes of seeing a tinge of sun along the horizon dashed.
Her stomach made inquisitive burbles as to when it would be fed, but she had no answer; for now, she’d just have to endure.
Mistress Karis told her they were going to the market, and Gale thought they’d get something to eat there, her stomach giving a hopeful squelching sound.
It felt all the keener for the sun not being out. She would have been pleasantly distracted by the filling in of colors and the inexorable erasure of night shadows as the sun chased the moon below the horizon.
Closing her eyes, she took a moment to breathe in momentary fresh air that brought the scent of market flowers, and the pleasantry of bird songs, though she knew nothing about which kind made which song.
Cutting through her reverie with a jolt, she heard a loud crack followed by a keening scream.
“Mistress Karis, what was that?”
Karis stared at her a moment to see if she was serious, and realized she was: “The Market.”
The sound of birds faded into the sounds of screams, curses, the clanking of chains, and the cracking of more whips.
The smell of fresh cut flowers was replaced by the cloying miasma of human waste, dirt, sweat, and illicit sex, commingling with the wild, putrid scents of beasts of burden.
Karis and Gale covered their mouths with veils to keep from gagging, but they weren’t much help in that they seemed to seal the smells in rather than filter them out, but it was better than nothing.
Gale was grateful she’d chosen not to eat after all, and wondered why Karis was here.
This makes no sense. She has many dociles that can do this for her…
Then what Karis told her after the naming service came back to her, about sometimes having to do things correctly by yourself to oversee the outcome.
Even so…
They went to the other side of the market, almost leaving it, when Karis motioned for them to stop. A young man ran out of a careworn tent to help her down, and another did likewise for Gale. As fast as they appeared, they took both animals by the reins and led them away.
She went and stood closer to Karis, taking in the tents set up some distance away, just as careworn as this one at the market’s edge. They were patched and dirty, with faded colors and what Gale would realize later were symbols of slave stock written in dried blood.
Forcing herself to breathe slowly, Gale took Karis’ hand while she took another look around.
“This is where the unsuccessful merchants set up, Gale. They sell useless junk to poor people. It’s allowed because as long as it gives them and their customers the illusion of legitimacy and being part of things, they’ll be less prone to thievery. That said, they also know it’s pretending, and the penalty for actual thievery is a lot crueler than letting them put on this show.
“If you ask me, all of them seem one step away from feral.”
Looking at their faces, in their eyes, Gale had to agree, and something in her expression attracted Karis’ attention.
“Get used to it, Gale, then get indifferent to it. We’ll be back here in a few weeks’ time.”
Gale took a risk. “Why, mistress. How many slaves does your city need?”
“It’s not only the city I supply, but the realm itself.”
“Oh.”
Karis laughed. “You’ve a lot to learn, and I’ve a lot to teach you.”
“Am I to be a slave merchant then?”
“Would you rather be a slave? Or worse, a Docile? Slaves at least rebel every now and then, but Dociles…”
“What happens to them?”
Karis shook her head.
Gale determined she’d find out on her own.
What happens then?
You’ll know how to make one if you need one.
“Pay attention, Gale. The auction’s about to start.”
Gale sighed as Karis took her by the hand and led her to the reserved spot for suppliers.
It was surprisingly some distance away from the bidding platform.
“We get a better overall look from back here,” Karis explained. “The close inspections come when we’ve made our purchases.”
Gale nodded.
The auctioneer took his place.
The couple on stage were chained together, both half nude and sweating.
Bleeding scars crossed the man’s chest, and Gale wanted to ask Karis about it, but decided she didn’t want to know. He likely fought against the slavers, and since the woman’s eyes were downcast, her body trembling against his bleeding one, she could guess what happened.
Damn this.
A rising feeling of helpless anger swelled, and she had to check it.
No, not yet. Learn what you can. Fortune favored you for a reason.
She turned her attention to the auctioneer’s drone, watched the bidding gestures, watched Karis make hers, and tried to figure out what she would do with it all when she finally became a slave mistress herself.
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Zephyr and Gale
Chapter 5: New Names, New Blood
“Hold out your right hands,” Karis commanded, taking a knife from a sheath on her side.
It had a red blade and a dark green jewel in its pommel, the handle wrapped in gold wire.
The edge of the red blade flashed in the sun as with one smooth, deft motion she sliced both their palms.
Dipping the pad of her thumb in the girl’s blood, she drew a rune on the girl’s forehead.
“For one so young, your heart grows hard from misuse. I see the subtle acts of defiance, even on the day I had you serve me only, and that is why I noticed you. It is from there, to suit your temper, that I name you Gale, from this day forward.”
Gale gasped as the rune flashed hot and vanished into her.
Karis placed a steadying hand on her shoulder and waited until the sensation passed.
Leaving Gale to ponder what happened, she turned her attention to the boy, dipping her right thumb and drawing a different rune altogether.
“Your spirit is the quieter for not taking proper revenge for your parents,” she told him, “but will, with the proper training, be that of a warrior. I was honest when I said you could be of service because of your size, but the training of a squire should fill you out nicely.
“I name you Zephyr, from this day forward.”
Then she cut her own hand, and dripped her blood into each of theirs.
“From this day, you are the blood of my choosing, and no one else may cause you harm.”
From the shadows a Docile came with a tray of bindings and a dark vial with a cork in it.
“Join your hands, and keep them so until I tell you to let go.”
“Mistress?” Gale said.
“Join them.”
Zephyr and Gale joined their bleeding hands, and after a few, Karis told them to let go.
When they did, the Docile opened the vial and scooped their mingled blood inside across their wounds, which then shrank in size, but didn’t disappear.
Another Docile wrapped their hands in the bandages, protecting whatever was left open from the knife.
“Your wounds will be gone by morning. The Docile will take you to my private rooms while I tell the guards to prepare for Zephyr.”
“Mistress…?”
“You may speak, Gale.”
“I can deliver the message if you’d like.”
Karis smiled. “You will find that over time, Gale, there are some things that are best handled directly.”
She gave a nod to the Docile, who beckoned them to follow, and they left the hall.
Chapter 6: A Bond of Wills
Karis had them eat dinner together, and a small table was brought out and set on the balcony.
From there they could see the gardens below, made more beautiful by the colors of sunset.
Zephyr broke the silence.
“Do you remember me?”
“Yes. And I’m sorry I lunged at you. For scaring you.”
“Then why?”
“I don’t know…I thought I’d show them I wasn’t scared, and they were already laughing at you after what Karis called you, so…”
“You’re sorry.”
She nodded.
“We were captured by slavers, Gale. They punched you in the face. You weren’t scared?”
“Of course I was. I thought maybe if I showed them I wasn’t, I’d think I wasn’t too.”
She left the table, walked away, but stopped to admire the view.
In the silence, she looked down at the garden, and it struck him in that moment, with the fading sun in her hair and on her cheeks, how pretty she looked.
She became aware of him staring and blushed, which made her prettier.
He put his cup down, stood next to her, and in a moment that surprised them both he took her hand, giving it a light squeeze.
Not pulling away, she blushed, which made her prettier, but didn’t look at him.
“Gale?”
She sighed and finally turned to face him, but didn’t say anything.
“It’s all right if you’re afraid.”
Her face softened as a small smile emerged. “I…I’m not as afraid as I was before.”
“Me neither.” He gave her hand a small squeeze.
The Dociles came out to clean up, and Karis sent the two of them off to their rooms, reminding Zephyr he had an early day.
************************
Karis had been pleased to see them talking and getting along. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but she could see it ended in a moment of bonding.
Her initial thought to have them broken was fading. She had no eyes and ears in the place, and Slave Mistresses were more to be feared than loved.
The problem was that fear made enemies, and fear sometimes turned to anger. If the heat of that burned bright enough, it could lead to plans of action to take her life.
She decided to cultivate their budding friendship, and groom them to her use.
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Zephyr and Gale
Chapter 3: A Different Breed
Later that evening, as the moon rose outside her window, the girl lay seething in her bed.
She was angry about her captor’s rough handling, and even angrier that she could do nothing about it.
Karis had used her all day; running errands, bringing meals, standing off to the side when she conversed with her court and council, no matter how long it took.She’d been direct and severe, insulting even, but the girl gave her enough of an act to make her think all was well. She was just trying not to do anything or act in a way where Karis would have her whipped, or worse.
She went back over their parting in her mind.
**************
“You performed well today.”
“Thank you, Mistress. Gods be praised.”
“I see potential in you. I’ll keep you with me for now until I know what to do with you. You are free to go. A Docile will see to your needs, and I’ll see you at first light.”
************
Instructed to bow to Karis and keep her eyes down, she did.
Curious as to what potential Karis saw, but grateful she hadn’t been cast aside, the girl stayed in the hot bath until the water cooled and the soapy foam was black with her day’s labor.
Her dinner plate was piled high, and she ate like it was her last meal though she knew it wasn’t. It was good to know that here there’d be no consequences of the famine in her homeland.
Glutted and sated, she was too tired to get excited about the soft bed awaiting her, but her bones would have groaned in pleasure at the proper bed by a window that let in the cool and pleasant night breeze.
For once, she smelled night flowers instead of human stink.
For one last night at least, you’re human once more. [
Chapter 4: Parcels of Destiny
The boy was still sleepy, but it didn’t seem to matter when the loud banging on the door and shouting made him jump as he woke up in fright.
Keeping his silence, he poured himself some water from the nightstand pitcher and let his heart stop pounding as loudly as the fist on the door.
When he finally opened it, he looked into the face of his captor.
“The Mistress will see you now, boy. Your fate is to be decided this morning.”
The boy swallowed; he wasn’t ready, but after some consideration he realized there was never a way to prepare for this kind of thing.
“A word of advice: you’d best stop shaking. It’s seen as a weakness, and you’ll get the mines. Serving in court is bad enough, but serving in the camp is worse.”
He let the cryptic remark speak for itself.
“I understand.” the boy said. He didn’t know if his trembling was from the cold, malnourishment, fright, or if he was going to die.
He wondered if he cared, and decided he didn’t.
“You’ll be fine, then,” his captor said, chaining him. “Come along.”
***************
By the time they arrived, the boy saw that the girl who scared him before was already standing by the slave mistress’ side, her eyes down, but looking scrubbed, clean and fresh in the early morning sunlight streaming through the balcony doors’ glass.
“Mistress Karis,” the guard greeted her.
“Guardsman. Thank you for being prompt. Leave the boy with me, and go.”
The guard bowed and took his leave. In the settling quiet, the boy was glad he wasn’t trembling. The lack of people in the hall gave things a comforting silence, and he took notice of how serene they all were as a result.
Karis appraised the boy, and while she did the girl spared him a brief glance as well, but if she remembered scaring him she didn’t show it.
Karis walked over to him, speaking as she came. “Do you remember what I called you?”
“Yes, Mistress. ‘Bones on a rope.’ “
“You were easily captured.”
“My parents were killed in front of me. I pleaded for their lives, but I…”
“Yet you did nothing.”
Not knowing what point she was trying to make, he dared to raise his eyes.
“My loved ones were killed. There was nothing left to fight for.”
Karis’ eyebrows arched, in surprise at his momentary boldness, and peripherally, he saw the girl looking at him too.
He’d expected Karis to slap him, but she didn’t, and the words she spoke next caught him off guard.
“Such loyalty to your family is laudable,child, that their deaths would trim your sails rather than fill them with anger and wrath.
“Would you like something else to fight for, to avenge them, now that your hate is kindled?”
He raised his eyes again, the answer already in him before it formed on his tongue.
“Yes, I would.”
“Good. Then don’t lower your eyes again.”
He didn’t, not even as she sent the girl down to stand beside him.
Coming toward him, she spared him a glance, one of respect this time.
-
Zephyr and Gale
Chapter 1: Captured
The boy was pleading for his parents’ life, but his father was too deep in debt and realized he would never be able to pay it. They forced the boy’s father to watch his wife die, and as he and his son screamed out curses and rage, they cut his father’s throat too.
Striking the boy in the back of the head, the burliest of them slung the slender body over his shoulder.
“Thin, but with a little food and a lot of training, he’ll make a good slave for the camp.”
*****************
The girl fought them with everything, running, screaming, cursing even at her tender age, but despite her father’s warning she’d wandered out too far, and they rode up on her suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere.
A bolo tripped her, and the breath was knocked out of her lungs as the rough dirt path scraped her face.
“Pretty one, this. What market?”
“Whore or scullery, but we’d best show her to the slave mistress first and let her decide.”
The girl was still cursing when they knocked her out to shut her up.
Chapter 2: Before the Mistress
The room where Slavemistress Karis viewed her prospects brought by the merchants was bright with late morning sun by the time Amsa brought the boy to be appraised.
Karis frowned when she saw him.
“Amsa, until now you’ve enjoyed a good reputation, so tell me, what are these bones on a rope you brought me?”
Those who were in attendance laughed as the boy grimaced and tried to curl in on himself even more than he was already. He reminded Karis of a distressed turtle prevented from ducking back in his shell.
Amsa tried to smile, but could only swallow; Karis had never disapproved of his merchandise before. Maybe she saw something in the boy that she didn’t.
“Mistress?”
“I asked you why you brought me this collection of bones on a rope. You insult me thinking I would have any use for this boy. I should have you whipped!”
To his own surprise, Amsa, normally slow witted, came up with an explanation he didn’t know he had, though he lied about how long he held it to be true.
“It has been my experience, Mistress, that skinny orphans, once fed, can be turned to almost any purpose to express their gratitude. Feed him as you guide his hand, and he will perform it to his utmost effort, with a fierce loyalty to his patron.
“Our own urchins who pick pockets, deliver messages, and on occasion, kill royal inconveniences, are cut from the same cloth as this bony boy.”
Amsa looked down at his charge, who’d finally stopped trembling, and smiled at him.
The boy, in the first act of courage he displayed, met Amsa’s gaze, and the slaver knew that something he said had shifted something inside the child. He felt that somehow, he’d been marked for revenge, though nothing was spoken between them.
His smile faltered, and he turned his attention back to Karis.
She was looking at the boy again, appraising him more slowly.
“An intriguing notion, and from our many urchins, a sound one. Being slight, he could fit in the smallest of spaces. Being quiet, no one would notice him. Being nervous, he’d avoid being seen.
“Very well, Amsa. I will find a space for him.”
“You honor a sinful man, Mistress Karis.”
“I merely pet a dog, slave catcher. Give the boy to our slaves so they can care for him, collect your bounty, and leave.”
Amsa bristled at the open insult, but gave his bow. He yanked the boy’s chains so that he stumbled, emitting more laughter from the nobles. Then he remembered the boy’s eyes, and how they’d changed.
He looked back and instantly regretted it.
That quiet look of pending vengeance had returned.
Neither of them knew the when, where, and how of it, but if either of them survived long enough, their paths would cross again.
***********
Out of the hall and purview of the slave mistress, they passed another slave catcher who had a young girl at the end of his chains, similar in height and age to Amas’ captive.
Amsa gave the man a nod.
The girl looked at the boy, and saw the dejection in his eyes.
He seemed resigned to his fate, whatever the decree.
She suddenly lunged at him, barking a sound at him and stretching the chains in her captor’s hand, hurting it.
The boy flinched, and she laughed.
His face heated, but he kept his eyes down as they passed, giving a little smile of his own when heard her cry out, and looked back to see her captor seized her by the hair.
***************
Letting her hair go, he shoved her head so the collar dug into the side of her neck.
She winced, but quieted her temper and tongue.
“You hurt my damn hand! “ He yanked the chain for emphasis and pulled her along faster than before. “Let’s go, girl. Eyes down, and mind your manners. The slave mistress tolerates no insolence from anyone, and she sure as hell won’t from you.”
The girl gave him a single nod.
He hoped she talked back to Karis; small as she was, she’d put up quite a fight before they knocked her out.
Karis’ guards would kill her outright, and sweep up her corpse like a dead fly,
He’d seen how they killed before, and hoped never to see it again, seasoned in killing himself as he often boasted.
He spared no sorrow for the victims; some just seemed to prefer death to bondage, and whether it was foolish or brave was not for him to decide.
Of course, he hoped to never need to make that choice.
This one though, was a small fire that would bear watching.
**********
She kept her head down, her lank, greasy locks covering her eyes, as she looked at the slave mistress through it.
She needed a bath as well, as they’d been on the road for days.
They tested her strength during that time, revenging themselves on her for being difficult.
She tried them too, willing them to damage her before bringing her to this, but they knew better and merely upped the levels of her chores, made her run behind trotting horses, staked her in the sun, and starved her until she stopped.
Now, she’d learn that Karis, for all the ornamentation on her, was not some clueless, cream-filled noblewoman.
“She’s not broken, Kadir.” It wasn’t a question, but he confirmed it anyway.
“No, Mistress Karis, she is not.” It was a mark against him, but nothing would be done about it right away, or in the presence of the nobles.
Bored, Karis decided to inspect the girl up close, and rose from her chair.
When she got to them, she reached out and cupped the girl’s chin with her fingers.
“Look at me, child.”
She merely lifted her chin from Karis’ loose grip, and kept her eyes downcast.
Karis smiled, not trying again, but looked at Kadir. “Leave her with me.”
The girl did look at her then, and Karis was pleased to see the flicker of apprehension that crossed her features.
Karis smiled at her unpleasantly, and the child lowered her eyes again
Kadir hadn’t expected that, but recovered quickly, having to now ask the question that affected his livelihood.
“Very well, Mistress. May I collect my bounty?”
“Tsk, Kadir. I can feel the fire in the girl’s eyes from here, and she’s not even looking at me. Tell me, slave catcher, if you think you deserve a bounty?”
“I don’t, Mistress, but I need it.”
“And I need broken product,” she mocked him with her tone. “Do you see one?”
He gave a subtle shake of his head. “No, Mistress.”
She sighed, looking down at the girl again, then back at him.
“Still, I am not without mercy. Normally, these little insects don’t give such defiance. This is a rare gem you’ve plucked with some difficulty, Kadir, and I take that into consideration.
“Collect your bounty.”
Kadir bowed low in thanks and kept his silence, though he wanted to gush with promises about how this would never happen again.
Wisely, he knew he couldn’t guarantee that, so he wisely said nothing, turned on his heels, and almost made it to the door before she called his name again.
“Yes, Mistress?”
“Tell the boy’s guard to escort him to me personally tomorrow.”
“Yes, Mistress.” Kadir went out.
-
Hello World!
This is another blog of story ideas I have that are short of a novel, but more than flashfic. Please read, like, and above all, feel free to comment.
I like to interact with readers and believe if you can comment, it helps the writer to know how and why (or even if) you connected with the work.
Enjoy the stories, and thanks for your time and interest.
ByteSyzes 