"Now you, captain, are unable to decide the fate of anything or anyone. Why? Because I have removed you from your power. In fact, you can now consider yourself property for I always sell the men that we capture as slaves to the markets in the Taltan kingdoms. So don't presume that I will now change my mind for you, Dernick Madron."
"But these men don't deserve that!" Dernick protested uselessly.
The sword in Seymon's hand flashed upward in an arc. A spray of red mist flew from a gash in Dernick's throat. The man reached for his neck to try and staunch the rapid loss of blood from the wound. Dernick fell to his knees gagging on his own blood as it bled into his throat and lungs. "I warned you not to speak or try to change my mind, Dernick. I am afraid a second warning wasn't in your future. Now I give you permission to die. Don't disappoint me by not obeying my order this time." The pirate laughed mirthlessly at his morbid joke.
Simon laid a restraining hand on Gerid's wrist as he felt his brother stiffen in anger. He hated to give in to slavery, but better to be a slave with the hope of someday escaping, than to be left dead in a pool of one's own blood.
Captain Seymon cleaned his sword on Dernick's back and returned it to its sheath. "Crew of the Patar, you are hereby relieved of your duties. All right, men, shackle the sheep and put them in the hold."
As Simon felt the cold metal of the shackles and heard the click as they locked into place, his head fell forward in despair. Gerid was shackled in front of him next. When they were led across to the pirate ship, he noticed his brother almost doubled over with the realization of what his earlier actions had now brought them all to and that was slavery.
Chapter 9- The Price of a Man
The former crew of the Patar and its passengers soon lost track of time in the dark, dank hold of the pirate ship known as the Black Wind. They were forced to remain below deck the entire time living off only the occasional crusty meals of bread and water. If they didn't make their final stop soon, Simon was sure that he would expire from hunger. His brother said little to him during the days of captivity and simply sat in a morose silence. Simon wondered to whom his younger brother's anger was actually directed towards. He knew that Gerid would have preferred fighting it out with the pirates, but that was the childish thinking of a teenager who thought himself to be invincible or immortal. At Simon's and the poor, lamented Captain Dernick's advice, the young man had held himself in check, but for what? The captain was dead now. The ship and its cargo had been taken and all its crew had nothing but slavery in their futures.
At one point between bouts of hunger and sea sickness, Simon had moved next to Gerid. The smells of urine, mildew and any number of other rank odors of men penned in unbearably close quarters nearly suffocated him as he tried to breathe enough to speak. "How are you and Janus holding up?" he ventured.
"Janus has been feeling sick again and I am just loving my stay in this ship of luxury," Gerid grumbled. "I can't believe that this is all happening to us. It's bad enough that we needed to flee Marshalla, but now the fates have brought us to slavery." Simon could sense Gerid's head turning to look at him though it was too dark to see each other as more than dark shadows. "Do you remember the story that father used to tell us, Simon?"
"Which story?"
"Of my birth and the Seers' prophecy?" "Of course, more than that, I can still remember that day even though I was only a small boy. It's gotten foggier with age, but I still remember. What of it?"
"If the Seers were right about my great destiny, why has this happened to us? According to the story, I am supposed to go on to do great things in my lifetime, but how can I do that if I am a slave? It doesn't make any sense to me."
Simon sighed and thought about the questions a moment. He thought back to that day the Visionaries had come. "If I remember correctly, they also predicted that there would be problems along the way as well. This could definitely fulfill that part of the prophecy." He thought of the Seer's charge to him and sighed again, "Looks like I failed to protect and raise you though, doesn't it? That was what the Visionary had charged to both father and I. Father did his best for you until he died, but look how I've done."
Simon felt a strong hand press itself upon his shoulder. "You did well after father died, Simon. He would have been proud of the way that you created such a strong business from his farm. It was a lot of
responsibility to take on at your age too, but you did it. Don't put yourself down, brother. The only one who let the family down was me. If I hadn't been so foolish as to have lost control of my temper and beaten those soldiers, we wouldn't be here. It’s all my fault for thinking that prophecy meant anything."
"True you could have done better about holding your temper, little brother, but remember that Lord Merrick is the real scoundrel here. Fighting isn't wrong if it’s fought in the proper way. You followed the rules of dueling he set out with his own words and we still gave our tithe fulfilling our duties to him. The toad lord had no reason to destroy our lives except to show the rebellion his strength before they could ever truly begin," Simon finished bitterly as the words were like acid on his tongue.
"You think that he knew of the rebellion, Simon?" Gerid asked in surprise. "He may not have known of Stephen's actions in particular, but all tyrants need to make people fear them when they've pushed their citizenry too far. Merrick's pettiness and greed can cause nothing less than the need for change one day."
They sat in silence for a time then. The whispers of other men and the rushing of the water against the hull filled their silence, until Gerid spoke up quietly. "Promise me that if we get separated, you'll try and find a way to return and make Merrick pay, Simon."
"Oh, don't worry about slavery. I may still have a way to get us out of it."
"No" Gerid hissed angrily, "I mean it. Whether we wind up slaves or not, find your way back to Marshalla and make Merrick pay for his crimes to our family. I hope to do so and perhaps we'll find that way together if we both make it back. Let's also agree that, if we do make it back, every first of spring and every first of fall we'll go back to the old farm. We'll spend one whole day waiting for each other and bring flowers to spread over the ground, if the other doesn't show. Promise me that you won't forget this."
Simon nodded soberly and made his answer known audibly as well, "I swear, Gerid, but let's hope that I can find a way to prevent this separation."
They spoke often over the next days. Simon felt the need to settle accounts as he could with his brother for the last time. He wanted to be as close to Gerid as he could as a brother in a way that time working to better the farm had kept from them. They let Janus join them on occasion in their talks, since the young man was also a friend so close as to be a brother. Gerid had him promise an oath much like theirs and did so as a blood brother from their childhood. Their talks continued even as Simon and Janus fell ill again with sea sickness.
Then one day, their trip ended. The boat still rolled with the waves, but now Simon noticed their slowing and finally they docked. The movement had been a constant for too long not to notice its absence from their lives. They could also hear bells in the distance from whatever harbor the Black Wind had found for itself.
Eventually after a long time of waiting had passed, the two wooden doors above the hold were thrown open to either side and let in the bright light of morning. A ladder was sent in and several pirates began shouting for the prisoners to come up out of the hold. Simon, Gerid, and Janus went out together and were chained in a line at the neck along with two others formerly crewing the Patar. Their hands were also shackled before a pirate took hold of a tow line and led the five after him.
Upon finding the shore end of a busy dock, they turned up a crowded street into the city above the harbor. As they proceeded through the crowds, Simon tried to get the attention of the pirate guiding them. "Hey, what city is this?" he asked first. The man refused to even turn to look back at him. Simon repeated himself five times before the pirate gave in with a sigh of annoyance.
"Camerton," was the response.
"Camerton? The Camerton on Taltan Continent?"
The man growled angrily before answering, "Yeah, yeah. Camerton of the country of Rhearden on Taltan, are you happy now?"
"No, are you?" he replied quickly and decided to try his best chance of escaping. "I'll tell you what, if you let myself and these others go, I'll make it worth your while."
"Yeah, right," the pirate scoffed, "you who are about to become someone's slave will reward me. With what?"
"I can give you five hundred gold coins of Marshallan currency."
The man turned in midstride to eye him greedily, if warily, "Seriously? How would you do that?"
"If you free us, I'll show you. You can take the gold to any bank for their weight in gold alone to have a small fortune."
The man's face turned wicked with desire. "You stash it on ya then, did you? Yeah, ya must have. Where are ya hidin' the coins?"
Worried that the man might find the purse that lay tied beneath his arm, Simon latched onto a near truth to hold him off. "I was a business man in Marshalla. My name and goods are known even in Taltan. I am one of the Aramatheas from the wool industry. I can go to any bank and get you the money."
The pirate grabbed hold of Simon unconvinced. Feeling around Simon's clothing, he eventually found the coin purse. Grinning like a wolf, he opened the purse to look inside. The man whistled, "Nice. I appreciate your generosity. Now come on."
"What? You won't free me? You have my gold; now honor your end of the bargain, man!"
A barking laugh was his reply before he answered, "You are a crazy ol' bird, aren't ya? If I let ya go, my life won't be worth a single copper. Captain Seymon would have me hunted down and killed before I could spend any of this."
"You could get away before he found out I am sure. With that much gold, you can go anywhere."
"Give it up, man. Your lot is cast. Besides if I stay true to the cap'n, I'll wind up ownin' my own ship. Your tribute is nothing compared ta what I'll make then."
They were soon led to a large gate where the crowds no longer hovered nearby. Within the area was a low, dark, wooden building. Other slaves were already shackled within as well. Simon could hear a man calling out loudly from what must have been the front of the building, but from the outside. They waited there for a long time in the darkness in a long line that slowly moved forward. Columns of slaves moved through a small wooden door at the far end. Slowly, but surely the three were moving closer to that opening as well.
It took hours before the group had their turn to walk through the doorway. A new man led them out and up a set of wooden stairs onto a platform. A few other men were already awaiting them atop the structure. A large crowd of people were gathered in front of the stage watching their approach eagerly as well.
A man peered over at them from behind a podium. "Ah, here is a new batch for all of you to choose from. These are all strapping young men, people. They are healthy, strong workers for you in your fields. We'll start our bids for the nearest to me. What are my bids?"
With those words, Simon watched as his final minutes of freedom fell away. Up until this moment, he had planned on some form of escape, but now as the crowd threw out their numbers for his value, the young man knew that he was to be truly enslaved. The bidding stopped at a fair price of one hundred fifty gold coins and Simon was separated with a click of a key in his chains.
He was led to a small booth where his new owner collected him after paying his fee. Simon looked back vainly over the heads of the crowd to that dais where his brother took his turn.
Simon heard as the crowd went wildly calling numbers for his brother in a form of feeding frenzy. Gerid was an unusually large, strong, young man. Even as Simon was led from the yard, he knew that his brother would fetch a premium price that would put his own to shame.
He sighed as he walked on his tether. Any price would be a bargain. Gerid's qualities were so far beyond a normal man's grasp, that they could never afford his true worth, even if that was a brother's love judging the opinion. No matter the price, however, the gold meant a new life of slavery.
Chapter 10- New Beginnings
Gerid had been placed in a large, wooden wagon along with four other slaves. A set of men drove the wagon while two others rode inside watching over the `new merchandise' as they were laughingly referred to as they road along.
The young man, who was still so close to being a boy, had seen his brother led away from him as well as his best friend, Janus, before he was led away by his own buyer. Inside his big chest, his heart ached savagely. Gerid had never been this alone in his life. Always he had some part of his family to help him or at the least to be with him. Now he was alone with his thoughts and feelings and, since they were focused solely on his losses, Gerid could only hurt more as he dwelled on them. As the youth lingered in his heartache, he also began to strengthen himself. A large, undying sense of hate began to take root in the cracks of his soul.
Gerid found a focus for his hatred. Lord Merrick needed to pay he decided strongly and Captain Seymon too, if he could ever find that arrogant monster back. If there was a way, he would find both men and make them pay dearly. His mind played with all the possible cruelties that he could bestow on the men that were responsible for his family's destruction.
Lost in his thoughts, Gerid missed the looks from the men around him as glimpses haunted him of Serra and even Simon, whom he had just left. The young man could only hope that his brother would honor their oath and return to their old home to join him someday. Then they could unite to avenge their sister, since she was now beyond their ability to help anymore. That thought suddenly brought tears that he had suppressed for more than a week through the chaos. Gerid blinked them determinedly from his eyes trying to restore his strength of spirit in the face of so much pain.
"All right, slaves, we're here," the driver stated happily over his shoulder and pointed towards a series of buildings in the near distance. "It's your new home."
Gerid had been so engrossed in his own thoughts that they had passed through the city's walls and then driven dozens of miles from Camerton already. He turned to face the path to the destination that the man had referred to only a moment earlier. The largest of the buildings, a mansion by nearly anyone’s imagining and painted brown with red trim, lay directly before them. It was much larger than the Aramathea's homestead had been. Two smaller buildings, that looked to be even more housing space, two tall barns peeking from behind the central home and a series of silos further out into the distance, gave evidence to the fact that someone of great wealth had acquired him as a slave.
The wagon moved around behind the house along a little path to the living quarters for the slaves and servants. Gerid looked at the low wooden building with its green painted boards and white trim that seemed unusually bright and clean as if it had been recently painted. The whole farm seemed unusually neat, clean and very well kept up.
"All right, everyone out!" the driver ordered as he reined in the horses to a halt. "You are now at the home of your new masters, the family of Carter Holtein. This barracks is where you'll stay when you are not working."
Several dogs came barking excitedly as they rounded the corner. The animals jumped up and down before the men. Everyone of the animals would pause just long enough by each slave to sniff and learn their scent. As a large, black hound jumped up to greet Gerid, nearly bowling him over in the process, the driver spoke to them again, "Just a warning to you men, we will be watching you closely, especially early on. Even if you should try to find a way to escape, these hounds are for more than just keeping watch over the farm and animals. The dogs have, by now, already gathered your scent. Should you try and escape, these creatures can hunt you down to the farthest reaches of Taltan."
As Gerid listened with half an ear, he noticed that all the dogs were suddenly surrounding him and sometimes jumping up on him. Several began barking even as others would try and lick his hands and
face. Though a slight surprise, he had found that, even back home, animals seemed to have a natural liking for him.
"What did ya do, boy?" one of the guards asked. "You roll in a meat market before we bought you or somethin'? I've never seen these critters take to someone like this before."
"Jack!" the man who had driven cart addressed the guard. "Get those mutts out of here. They've done their job already."
"Right, Leoltus," Jack answered as he shooed the animals away.
The slaves were led inside the building by Leoltus, an older man with gray hair and scruffy beard. Inside were mats, with hay underneath the covering, laid from one wall to another with a corridor made between them. Gerid counted thirty mattresses of hay in all. They were large enough for at least two or three people if need be. He figured the Holtein masters must be extremely wealthy if they needed this many beds. The Aramatheas hadn't needed to be able to provide for that many on their whole farm including their own household.
There were three people waiting within at the far end of the building. They stood near the fireplace at that end. The fire was lit within the hearth, though the weather was fair enough outside to forebear such a waste. It seemed odd to Gerid. He thought that he could guess the reason for such a blazing fire, but prayed that his hunch was wrong.
"Come forward, slaves. Picar and Menty are here to give you your final reason to forget about escaping."
Gerid followed the others in a knot near the two men mentioned by Leoltus. When the first slave neared the men by the fireplace, they took hold of him firmly and pulled him near. "This is the mark of Holtein," the man known as Picar stated gravely. Menty took a metal pole out of the fire. The new slave's eyes went wide with fear. He was screaming even before the flaming tip was pressed against the back of his hand. Once it was laid on his skin for a couple of sizzling, pain filled seconds, a second scream was ripped from his throat. The scent of burnt flesh quickly made itself known on the air causing Gerid’s nose to twitch at the sickening smell. A young woman took the slave's hand quickly and poured a little salve over the fresh burn. The man quieted pretty quickly as the ointment seemed to immediately ease his pain.
The High King: A Tale of Alus Page 6