by Shannon Peel
Aleesa seems to be enjoying the company of the Private from the King’s Royal Patrol I assigned to drive her wagon. She natters on about court, clothes, and her plans for her husband’s Estate home. The poor boy probably doesn’t understand half of what she’s talking about.
I’m hoping it only takes us a week to get to Della Terra with all this stuff and the extra stopping. The sun is getting low and considering the amount of time it takes for the slaves to set up camp, we should stop. I ride up to the first wagon where her highness is holding court.
“Aleesa. Dinner time.”
“Oh. Are you sure?”
“You want to keep pushing on through the night?”
“Heavens no.”
“There’s a nice spot up ahead near the river.” The Private says.
“Sounds good.” Aleesa says.
I relay the information to the King’s Patrol Captain who nods and leads us to a perfect spot that is flat and large enough for all of us to camp beside the river. The slaves start unpacking the tents, the beds, the bedding, the table, the chairs, the silverware, and Aleesa’s trunk of travel clothes. I leave them to set up our home away from home and go to the river for a refreshing swim.
I could get used to travelling with a King’s Royal Patrol escort.
I dive in and the water is warm enough to be comfortable and cool enough to be refreshing. It feels wonderful to clean the day’s dust and dirt off my body. I root my feet in the sand submerging my body, and letting the water pass by me. I lean into the current enough to hold me up and I close my eyes enjoying the feel of the water wrapping itself around me. There is something about water. It’s so relaxing. The sound of waves, watching a gentle current passing by, floating and letting it take all your cares away.
There are birds singing to each other, crickets playing their song, the wind rustling the leaves in the trees, and the sounds of Aleesa ordering both the slaves and the King’s Royal Patrol around. Why can’t women be simple? Why do they always have to be so loud? Pack so much, stop so often and be such busy bodies?
Raif
Morning sunlight fills the tent waking me. I stretch my limbs and grab Rosa for another round of sex when Sero hollers for me from outside. Least the man has brains enough to not walk in. What is the fucking problem this time?
"Sir, we captured a couple of runners."
"You've got to be fucking kidding me. Ok, I'm getting up, be right there.” I give Rosa's breast a quick squeeze and kissed her hard. "Gotta go, duty calls." I dress quickly and step out into the sunshine. "Ok Sero what do we have?"
"These two slaves ran off, well tried to," Sero winked, which I ignore. Sero pulls on two ropes bringing two young men into sight.
So, it's started. We’ve been in Analeesia for three days, enough time for the slaves to rest up and get their strength back. Three days to build up the courage to sneak out into the dark night and run. Where are those damn White Priests? I prefer to be well into the mountains before giving the product time to rest up. Far enough in that they can’t get back home and they are too scared to run. If the damn Priests had been here when they were supposed to be, I wouldn’t have this problem right now.
I hate this part of the job, about as much as Sero loves it. I pay him to dish out discipline, to ensure the product is too scared to run away, so I don’t have to do it myself. I really hate it when they run. Public punishment is the consequence of running and I only use it to deter others, to keep everyone in line. Discipline keeps order and order makes life easier, however, that doesn't mean I have to enjoy it or like how much pleasure Sero gets from it.
"Bring me Brathoid's wife."
I need her co-operation to keep her people in line. I know I am unlikely to get it. "Raif sir, got that slave ya wanted."
"Ah good! Come in my dear, it is good to see you so bright eyed this morning, I do
hope you had a good night sleep." I indicate for her to sit on the stool. She has a dangerous look to her. Her eyes are full of a fire they awaken my desires. "Still fighting I see, well we still have some time to fix that and today should see a marked improvement."
"Wha ya want? Why I here?"
Feisty, rude, and furious, I doubt she will be more then a field slave, which bothers me more than it should. She’s product that’s all. Passionate women do not fair well as slaves, they fight and end up beaten until they break or die. I wish I could do better for her. It’s her choice though. I’ve told her what her options are, that’s all I can do.
"My dear I need your help with a problem. We have so many slaves here from your tribe and I need to figure out which, like you, will provide me the best return on my investment."
I purposely use a formal condescending edge to my voice, a civilized tone and educated rhetoric to come across as her superior. By using jargon she will not understand, I will confuse her, make her question what’s happening, cause her to be ill at ease. The less confident she is, the better it will be, for her.
"Yar what?"
"Investment, the money I put in to acquire you, improve you, feed and care for you. I expect a good profit for my efforts."
"I donna care 'bout yar profits, I Donna wan ya to get profits. I leave now." She starts to rise. Sero pushes her back onto the stool.
"Well yes, I understand how you may not care about my profits, but I do. I care about my profits very much and soon you will see what happens to those who interfere with my profits. You see two members of your tribe thought they would abscond with my--"
"Ab sss con?"
"Yes abscond, steal, take, thieves my dear, two men from your group stole from me when they tried to escape."
"Wha they take?"
"Well themselves of course. Soon all of my slaves will see what happens to those who steal from me. What I need from you my dear is simple. You will stand beside me and encourage your people to behave by being an example to them. You are the wife of their chief, they look to you for leadership, for instruction on what to do."
"Why I do wha ya want? It betta for 'em ta fight ya and run."
"And die? Because my dear, make no mistake we will hunt them down and kill them. Punishment is something my boys take pleasure in, lots of pleasure and they are quite creative in their pleasures. But I digress. We will discuss the topic of punishment soon. We are going to go to a little gathering outside, after which I want you to help me organise and label my inventory."
"In ven stoy?"
She is looking confused and unsure, which is what I want. Still, she holds herself with confidence and defiance. Two things I need to rid her of before we get to the Lowlands if she is to survive.
"Yes, shall we go?" I take her gently by the elbow and escort her out of the tent to a tree surrounded by slaves and slavers.
"Good morning slaves, as you may be aware two of your friends tried to leave our little campsite last night. I cannot stress enough how bad of an idea running away is. If you choose to run there are consequences” I see that the slaves do not understand. "Ok. If you run, I will hurt you. Got it? Sero, bring the thieves out."
Sero brings the two men out and like usual he'd beaten them too badly. Well if it costs me two valuable slaves Sero will pay for it. How many times do I have to explain that punishment is a fine line? Too little and no one learns anything, too much and they shattered into tiny pieces. Once Sero beat a slave so badly he crippled him. It cost him five months wages. I’m still not sure if the slave would have brought that at market, still, I had to make an example.
"These two slaves decided that they did not want to be with us anymore. This is an example of what happens to slaves who run away. Watch closely, close your eyes and I will beat you. Sero if you please."
Sero pushes them face first against the rough bark of the tree, unties their hands and re-ties them to a branch above their head. Another Raider hands Sero a long black whip.
"Ten lashes each. They did not know that this would be the punishment for running." Should be thirty, but they’ve suf
fered enough already at Sero’s hand. I can tell he isn’t happy about it only being 10. Maybe he’ll be more careful next time. I turn to the crowd of slaves, "but you do, so if you run, you will receive fifty lashes.”
After Sero is done and their backs are red and swelling I order them turned to face the crowd. A rope is wrapped round the tree securing them tightly to it. Their sore backs pressed into the rough bark and their nakedness on display for everyone to see.
"They will stay here all day and all night. Tomorrow they will be cut down. If any of you run, you will be tied for three days and nights. Line ‘em up.” I turn to the woman beside me. “If you please." I hold her arm in a firm tight grip and lean down close to her ear to whisper. "Give me any trouble and I will have you whipped.” I drag her to the line of slaves. "Tell me about this one!"
"This Gera, wha ya wanna know?"
"Age, abilities, jobs she is good at, anything that will tell me more then what I can see."
"Ask 'er she standin right der"
"I know, but I asked you." They need to see her co-operating with me.
"We'll, Gera a a, how ol' are you?"
"57 summers."
"Ok, she a 57 summers. She wha a gatherer and sewed clothes. She weaves baskets and cook good. She ha wha 6 babies?" Gera nods, "'er husband died 4 winters ago anything else?"
"Healthy too."
"Ya, healthy and strong too."
I look her over ask her to turn around.
"Seamstress" I say. Sero writes the word on a piece of leather and secures the collar
around her neck.
"This is Hosha, he is wha 32 summers?" Hosha nodded. "His wife name a Shasta and
dey have 4 kids" Hosha lifted up 5 fingers, "oh ya 5 kids wha der names?"
"I don't care about the kids names, what jobs can he do?" I interrupt.
"Hosha a hunter, real good wi da bow. He ride horses, care for 'em too. He butcher animal and skin 'em too. Am I right?"
"Ya Chiefta."
"Stables or armoury, train for both." I tell Sero and turn to the next.
"Here is Tesha, she 'bout 20 summers. Married an ha 1 baby. She works wi..." "Breeding house" I cut her off and move on to the next
"Dis is Charra, she 14 summers and she--"
"Turn around for me." She is a pretty young thing. She will fetch a good price.
“Pleasure house.”
"No, ya can't she jusa girl no. Pleasurable life ma ass, no she a good girl, too good fa
dat. She good at growing food in field and sh"
"No. This one is too pretty to be a fieldworker. She is way more valuable then that, she will like her role, Rosa can start training this one. Don't worry, no one will touch her, she is only valuable if untouched. Everything Rosa will teach her she will enjoy, fully." I regard the next slave, "how old is the boy? 10? 11? He has very interesting eyes. What do you think Sero?"
"Yes, he will be very good for Madame Cherie's pleasure house.”
The slave woman pushes me, she is angry and I can’t blame her, but at the same time I can’t have her showing me disrespect. I need her cooperating, compliant.
"Little boy, he a little boy not for sick man."
"I know lots of women who buy well trained male bed slaves, but you’re right they are usually the toys of perverts. As long as the pervert pays, what do I care?"
Thing is I do care. Guilt, my constant companion, is making it hard for me to do what I must do. Boys like him fetch top dollar. Maybe he’ll get a good master, one who will be gentle and kind.
I can see the fear in her eyes, those beautiful dark brown doe eyes pleading with me, needing to save this boy, the girl, her people. My heartbeat slows, as I look at her, she looks like a deer who knows there is danger and is not sure which way to run, yet. So beautiful, so wild, I don’t want to hurt her. However, just as hunters kill the deer to eat, I must break her to deliver this shipment to market. No matter how much I appreciate her beauty, her heart, her passion.
"Ya a monsta, how dare ya, he just a boy."
Yep, that’s right. I am a monster, a terrible monster who eats kids. I look at the little boy, how can I expose him to the perverts of Perns? My old friend, guilt is rearing its ugly head and taking hold of my heart. The woman is nagging at me, pulling at me. I can’t let her have her way. I am Raif the Raider, not some bleeding heart slave lover. I don’t care about young boys - these are savages, no better then animals. I have to do something before my men lose respect for me, and the slaves get brave.
"Twenty-five hard lashes on her back. Then gag her and tie her, I guess I'll have to ask the questions after all."
My voice is as cold as possible. I don’t care, can’t care. Raif doesn’t care about these people they are profit plain and simple. Sero rips her top off baring her breasts to the crowd and she tries to cover herself. Sero grabs her wrists behind her back and pushes her towards the tree. She is fighting, falling to her knees to stop from being pushing forward. He seizes her by the hair and forces her to stand and go to the tree.
She is fierce. Strong willed. No wonder Brathoid chose her. She is a war leader’s wife, one of a kind. My blood is flowing fast, as I watch, mesmerized by the scene before me. I want to take her. I need to tame her.
Sero ties her arms above her head and proceeds to whip her 25 times. I watch as Sero’s whip connects and I feel it. I feel every lash on my own flesh. Only monsters have women whipped. Only monsters are excited by it.
After the last crack of the whip she is untied from the tree and lead back to me. A dirty gag is tied around her mouth and her hands tied behind her back. I force her to stand there while we assess the rest of the slaves.
It takes forever to catalogue a few hundred people to find the gems. Most will be field hands and sold in Terra. Some will make their way into the houses of nobles in Perns. There will be enough of them to please my father.
This is the largest inventory I have brought to Perns in 10 years it has to be enough by now. Surely I’ll be allowed to come home. I can finally stop being a monster. Maybe it is too much to hope for, after all, there is no rest for the wicked and there are none more wicked then me.
“Sir the White Priests have arrived. They are waiting in your tent.”
I look at the woman and guilt twists it’s knife deeper.
“Bring the baby.” I tell him.
This is good news we won’t have to wait around here like sitting ducks much longer. The sooner we got into the Seki Mountains the better. So why does the thought of those priests, waiting in my tent, not sit well with me. I don’t trust the Church or anyone associated with it. I make a mental note to have a word with my guard. I wait. Then I drag Brathoid’s woman inside with me.
“So you succeeded, this pleases the gods.”
I look at the woman, dishevelled, half naked, and gagged. My heart falls. This is not going to be pretty. It’s the only way to break her though. She has to know that she is helpless to save anyone. I hope that she won’t shatter, that she will only bend into what I want her to be.
Sero comes in with the baby bundled in a blanket.
“Here she is. Where will you take the babe?” Maybe one day I can tell her what happened to her child.
“The gods have demanded this child be brought to their altar.”
I suddenly feel sick. What the hell have I done? I look at her, panic floods through me and I start to stand up, to grab the baby away from the White Priest.
“Wait just a minute, you’re going to sacrifice her, all this for a sacrifice?”
I can’t let that happen, I can’t be apart of this. I should have known better, nothing good comes from dealing with the Church of Balla. I am a monster, a greedy monster.
“Sacrifices must come willingly and we have many who volunteer for the honour. No, she will not be a sacrifice. The altar will be her throne, her pulpit, her place in the Church of Balla. Where she will reside until the gods possess her. All you need to know is that she will be a princess amon
gst us.”
A princess, well, that doesn’t sound too bad, a pampered life is what I’m giving her. A small voice deep inside me is saying I can’t trust the Church of Balla. I ignore it. She will be a Princess. I look at the woman beside me. Maybe that will bring her some peace. I doubt it.
She is struggling, fighting her bonds to get to the baby, tears running down her face. The guilt, that thing I try so desperately to control raises its ugly head and I bat it away. I am not going to feel guilty for this. This is what Raif lives for, to torment and break others into slavery. To give them a civilized life, a better life, than the one they had, living in primitive huts on the plains.
“Here is the rest of your money. Have a safe trip and may the gods go with you.” “Please ask them to leave me alone from now on.”
I don’t put much stock in the gods. I leave them alone and up until now, they’d left me alone. The White Priests nod and leave with the baby. The woman starts to fight her bonds harder, screaming through the gag. I am about to tell Sero to untie the gag when she drops to the ground unconscious.
Something inside me panics and I go to her instantly. I gently untied her hands and remove the gag. My hands caress her hair, smoothing it away from her face, soaked with tears and snot. I check her breathing, she is alive and I take in a deep breath that I didn’t realize I’d been holding. My nerves settle and I slowly backed away to sit in a chair and wait for her to awaken. Sero restrains her with a collar around her neck attached to the tent and then leaves. When she wakes up she’ll be out for blood, mine.
Drela
My eyes slowly open, everything is blurry. I am lying on the cold hard ground. My eyes focus. I can see that I am in Raif's tent. Slowly, I move my arms. I’m no longer tied up. My tongue is dry and feels huge in my mouth, which no longer has the gag choking me. I rise slowly. Everything hurts. My back burns from the welts.