Slave Trade - An Expedient Departure
Slave Trade
An Expedient
Departure copyright 2013 comidacomida
"You let him LIVE--" Choel gasped, pausing after a moment before recovering from the surprise and adding quickly, "Slave Master?"
With Lord Hector engaged in the political intrigue of courtly politics, it had been up to Sidney to announce the news to the gladiators. After being brought back to the holding cell by one of Lord Levid's guards, the fox wasted no time explaining the situation-- and the tiger had wasted no time in expressing his dissonance with Sidney's decision.
"Yes." Sidney confirmed, once he had settled himself after Choel's emphatic disagreement, and then added in his defense, "Lord Hector told me afterward that he thought I chose well." and the fox crossed his arms over his chest.
"And it be not our place t'question that." Dorias acknowledged calmly, shooting a glance at the tiger, who had stood from his place at the discussion circle, "Aye, Choel?"
"I'm sorry, Slave Master." the tiger bowed his head with a nod, "It's just..." he sighed, "Uraou's dead... and it's Baron's fault."
"Baron was doin' what 'e was commanded t'do." Dorias stated neutrally, "Ye can't blame 'im when Lord Levid decided... that'd be like blamin' a 'ammer when a barn gets put up crooked." the yak continued speaking his mind to the tiger, but Sidney's attention slowly drifted to the far side of the room where Maern was standing with his back to everyone else, making use of the trough reserved for bodily functions.
Despite the life-or-death battle scarcely a half hour prior, Maern seemed surprisingly laid-back about the whole affair, even to the point of yawning as he pissed. The stallion had his loin cloth pulled to the side and, though the fox couldn't see anything, he was astonished that the audible din of the horse urinating sounded uncannily like a water pump discharging. Sidney considered the phrase "piss like a race horse" and contemplated if a gladiator horse was any different.
"an' if Maern did as Sidney told 'im, then it means that 'e agreed with 'is decision too." Dorias finished the conversation with a sense of finality, pulling the fox's attention back to the discussion when he heard his name spoken.
"He would have done what Sidney told him to do anyway." Choel countered, "Like you said... hammer and barn."
The yak smirked at that, shaking his head as he tugged lightly at the errant graying strands of fur at his chin, "Nay... Maern may be good at doin' as 'e's told, but 'e 'as a sense of right an' wrong, and 'is honor wouldn't let 'im do wrong."
Choel signed, "I still don't think killing Baron would have been wrong." but, with a snort, the tiger let the discussion go, turning his eyes to Maern, who was rejoining the three of them, "When's he gonna learn Prossian anyway? It's not exactly easy for us to deal with him... I mean... what if we have a team match? How are we supposed to talk with him and coordinate a plan-thing?"
"A 'strategy'?" Dorias inquired, one eyebrow up in patient good-humor.
"Yea." the tiger shrugged, "Whatever."
The yak's smile slowly faded, "Ye just keep lookin' for somethin' t'complain about, is that it? Th' Master won a fight... we didn't lose Maern. Be 'appy in that, Choel."
Choel let out a deep sigh, scratching the ground on either side of his legs with his claws, "I didn't even really LIKE Uraou... I just HATE that he died like that."
Maern glanced from Choel to Dorias, then voiced a question of the yak, "Ku ih dis?" Sidney could readily recall hearing the question several times-- often enough that he knew the meaning. The stallion had literally asked what the tiger had said, but the fox also realized that a lot of phrases in Vensian were situational.
"What's he saying now?" Choel questioned, glancing at the horse.
"He wants to know why you're unhappy." Sidney spoke up before Dorias had a chance. He glanced over to the yak, who wore a faint smirk, and simply nodded in confirmation to the tiger.
"Tell him that I don't like it that the guy who killed Uraou is still alive even when Uraou isn't." Choel stated, then quickly added, "Not that I disagree with the Slave Master's decision..."
Dorias relayed the explanation to Maern, who nodded thoughtfully, then said simply, "Uraou fite good..." and he held out one fist, "Bare-un fite more good." and he covered his fist with his other hand, "You fite and win and fite and win and fite and win..." and he lowered his hands to his knees, "You no win..." he shrugged, "and no fite more."
The fur on the back of Sidney's neck stood up faintly at the simplistic explanation of what the stallion had to say. In that moment the fox felt that he had lost the chance to hear something truly beautiful and sagely because Maern lacked the ability to convey in words a sense of warrior's philosophy. The slave master turned to Dorias, "Tell him to explain what he wanted to say in Vensian." the words came out of him breathlessly.
Dorias turned to Maern and made the request, and the stallion regarded Sidney for a moment, his icy blue eyes locked on the fox as he slowly inclined his head in a faint nod, and began to speak in his native language, each word somehow fitting in surreal perfection between the preceding and proceeding word, emerging almost like a poem from the gladiator's lips. Maern held his gaze through the entire recitation of what sounded almost like a mantra of sorts, and Sidney was captivated by the experience, floating along until the horse's monologue came to an end with two final words, "Min sarul."
Once the stallion fell silent, Dorias remained still for several long seconds, and then, haltingly, did his best to translate, "The Road of the Warrior has but one destination, and that end is death. Every battle is one more step. All warriors walk this road, never knowing how many steps they may take until they reach that end. If I arrive today, then I give thanks to the warrior who ends my weary travels. If I bring an end to my foe's journey then may his rest be well-earned. If our meeting parts us on the road we both still travel, then I wish him well and pray he finds the end as I wish to find my own:" the yak paused a moment, and spoke the final words again in Vensian, "Min sarul."
"With on-er." Maern provided the Prossian translation.
The room remained quiet for several seconds and Sidney stood still in the silence, mind settled and unwavering as he slowly absorbed the meaning behind the words... a prayer, of sorts. It was calming in a way the fox had not known before, but the calm was short-lived, interrupted by the holding area's door opening. Lord Hector made an unceremonious entrance, breath coming out with a ragged edge, as if he'd hurried to meet his slaves. His next words reinforced that assessment, "Sidney; gather everyone up... we are leaving."
"Yes, Master." the fox confirmed at once, more than a little confused at the sudden decision to depart, but his was not the place to question, and so he did as he was commanded.
The stag lingered for a moment longer as his eyes went from slave to slave. Lord Hector nodded, as if in response to an inner consideration, and then added, "Sidney... when everyone is ready to leave, follow this hallway that way," he pointed to the right, "It will lead you out to the courtyard; a transport will be waiting for you."
"Yes Master." the slave master confirmed, "Thank you, Master." and he turned back to his charges, "Okay..." and he paused, taking a moment to figure the best way to proceed. When he turned back toward Lord Hector he saw that the stag had already left, "Ugh..." the fox leaned against the stone wall, "I guess... we're all ready to go." he told himself, then looked up to the quizzical gaze provided to him by Dorias, "What do we need to do?" he asked the yak immediately.
"Lord 'ector's servants woulda gathered 'is things, but not th' 'arnesses, Sir." Dorias explained calmly.
"Okay..." Sidney quickly assessed the situation, "Then Dorias... do you know where the harnesses are?"
"Aye, Sir." the yak nodded.
"Okay... bring Maern with you and get them... then meet us at the wagon." Dorias nodded simply, and began explaining the order to the stallion. Maern snorted, and a frown came to his face, but he did not argue, following the yak out of the room through the open door. Sidney did not miss the fact that they turned left in the hallway, and immediately the fox felt an increasing degree of discomfort; the harnesses were in the opposite direction of the wagons?
"And me, Slave Master?" Choel called from behind him.
Sidney glanced to the tiger, who was looking directly at him expectantly, "Choel, we're going to the wagon like Lord Hector commanded.
Choel shrugged, "Yes, Sir." and he stood up, dusting his legs and rump off. He moved to stand beside the door, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the wall. Several moments passed before Sidney realized that the tiger was waiting for further instruction.
"You go first." the fox added, "Just go to the right and follow the hall to the wagons." and Sidney motioned to the right as if to illustrate the idea.
"Sure..." the tiger acknowledged, "..Slave Master." he as an afterthought, then proceeded out the door. Sidney followed him down the passage, feeling a strange sense of disquiet at how vacant the halls were. It was later in the evening than the fox had ever recalled anyone taking to the open road, but it was not his place to question his Master, so he kept the consideration to himself and obediently guided his charge to the courtyard where a single waiting carriage stood ready.
Choel came to a stop upon catching sight of the single transport,"Just one?" the tiger questioned, glancing back to Sidney.
The fox shrugged, "We all fit into one wagon on the way."
"Lord Hector had a carriage and we had a wagon." the slave reminded him, "Lord Hector's carriage is here, but where are WE supposed to be? There's no wagon."
Doing a double-take, Sidney realized that Choel was right; Lord Hector's carriage was present but there was no transportation for the slaves. "We'll..." the fox paused, "Lord Hector said he would meet us here. We'll wait until he arrives and do as he directs." The tiger shrugged in compliance and maintained a general air of indifference as they waited. Dorias and Maern were the first to join them.
"Where be th' wagon, Sir?" Dorias inquired, carrying two harnesses. Behind him, Maern had a large bag thrown over his shoulder. The leather sack bulged significantly, suggesting to Sidney that it held more than the remaining two harnesses that Lord Hector had brought.
"We're waiting to hear from Lord Hector." the fox stated, "Right now there's just his carriage." and he motioned to the transport. Sidney's curiosity got the better of him, "Why is Maern carrying a bag?"
"The slave at th' storage vault said that Lord 'ector had ordered it so." Dorias explained, "They 'ad loaded Uraou's and Maern's 'arnesses into it as well." Sidney would have asked a follow-up question, but, just then, Lord Hector strolled into the moonlit courtyard. He was dressed in his traveling gear, and appeared by all account to be more than ready to depart. The fox caught the stag's eye, and Lord Hector approached him.
"I see you have everything." the stag acknowledged, nodding to the halters and sack.
"Of course, Master." Sidney bowed his head.
"Excellent." Lord Hector stated, and moved to the carriage, "Once everyone is situated we can depart."
"I did not see the wagon, Master." Sidney spoke, looking around the empty courtyard as if it would have suddenly materialized with his master's appearance, "I would have had everyone already inside."
"We are not taking the wagon back with us, Sidney." Lord Hector smiled calmly.
"Yes, Master." the fox nodded, feeling sick-to-his-stomach at the thought of walking all the way back to the estate. He turned to the slaves, "We will be following Lord Hector on foot."
"No, Sidney." the stag interjected, "You will all be riding in my carriage with me." The comment caught the attention of all of the slaves, except Maern, who was more concerned with balancing the bag on his back. Lord Hector continued unabated, "I was required to sell the wagon to finance my most recent purchase." and, with that, the stag opened the door to the carriage, permitting the slaves a view of the interior, and an unconscious bison laying across the floor boards.
"Baron?" gasped Sidney, taking a step back as he tried in vain to make sense of the sudden development.
"Baron?" Dorias contemplated, raising a single eyebrow as he gazed into the waiting carriage, tugging thoughtfully on his beard.
"Baron." Choel growled.
"Bare-un." Maern nodded in consideration, tossing the bag up onto the back of the carriage, climbing up into it as Lord Hector motioned the slaves forward. Sidney followed next, realizing that the return ride to his master's estate would leave him full of questions. Lord Hector climbed in last, taking a seat next to Sidney on the bench closer to the driver, and the stag gave a rapid tap-tap on the wooden wall; the carriage began to move.
Thankfully, once the group was on its way, Lord Hector's benevolence afforded Sidney the chance to give voice to the questions he would have not otherwise been able to ask, "I am certain you have many questions, Sidney... and, no doubt, the slaves in your care have plenty they would like you to ask on their behalf." the stag slid open a wooden panel and pulled a bottle out, along with a half dozen glasses. He set the tumblers on a tray that slid out of the same panel and began to pour drinks into each container, "You may ask whatever you wish, Sidney... since I have now added a new slave to my stables, it is important that you have a chance to understand these circumstances."
The fox was dumbstruck, and he had to try several times before he could manage to peep out the words, "You... you... sold your... wagon... to... to buy... Baron?"
"Yes." the stag nodded simply, placing a glass in the fox's paw.
"And... he is going to be..." Sidney looked down at the drink, the fumes of it bringing back his memory of the tingling, light-headed feelings of the other night... as well as the unpleasant headache the following morning, "..he's going to be a... gladiator for you, Master?"
"He will." Lord Hector confirmed.
Sidney set the glass down on the bench between his legs, holding it steady with his thighs as he swallowed against the constriction in his throat, "And... and I... will be... his...." it got harder to push the words through.
"His Slave Master. Yes." the stag acknowledged, handing a glass to Choel.
"Thank you, Master." the tiger accepted the drink and downed it with one go. Though Choel did a good job of hiding his surprise at the heat inherent in the taste of the liquid, the double-cough that escaped the slave revealed that he hadn't handled it much better than Sidney had on his first try.
Lord Hector nodded at the thanks, a faint smile coming to his muzzle at Choel's response to the alcohol. "Slowly, Choel." the stag stated, reaching the distance to refill the glass. As he eased back, Lord Hector inquired plainly, "You do not approve of my choice to purchase Baron, do you?"
Choel opened his muzzle to speak, but Sidney didn't miss the withering gaze he received from Dorias. The tiger cleared his throat and started again, "It's what you chose, Master, so it is what will happen."
"That is not what I asked." Lord Hector pressed, "If I asked you what you would do with Baron were you free to make your own decision, what would you do?"
"He wouldn't have left the arena, Master." the tiger announced, sipping at the drink he'd been provided.
The stag nodded in consideration, still looking at the gladiator, "And yet you would hope that you would be shown mercy if you were defeated, would you not, Choel?"
"Yes, Master." the tiger nodded, "but Lord Levid didn't show Uraou any mercy... so that means we don't have any reason to show his slave any."
"An interesting point," Lord Hector stated, holding out a tumbler to Dorias while still looking at Choel, "Not a one of us has control over what Lord Levid does. What I have control over are my own actions, and I will not ask my slaves to subjugate their moral compass. Sidney chose to let Baron live because he does not believe in killing... and I agree with that." the fox felt a giddy warmth flow through him at his master's indirect praise, and he hadn't even tasted the drink he'd been given.
"Yes, Master." the tiger accepted the words, mollified.
"Your thoughts, Dorias?" the stag asked next, his arm still outstretched with the glass still lingering in the air, "Here." Lord Hector reinforced the offer of a drink, shaking the tumbler insistently.
The yak accepted the drink with deference, "Tis not my place t' 'ave an opinion, Master." he spoke the words while looking into the amber liquid swirling around in the tumbler.
"And if you DID have an opinion?" Lord Hector pressed patiently.
"Baron's good at what 'e does, Master..." Dorias set the glass down on the bench between him and Choel, "Ye chose well."
The stag nodded in response to the assessment, and his eyes went back to Sidney, "You chose to save Baron, and, as I expected, Lord Levid was NOT happy with the situation." he held out a glass to Maern and spoke a few words in Vensian.
"Thenk yoo." the stallion accepted the drink.
"You bought Baron from Lord Levid?" Sidney asked, surprised, in part because the king would sell his prized slave, but also because Lord Levid had been so adamant about the bison not being killed.
"Not exactly, no." Lord Hector stated, taking a drink from his own glass, "After you were escorted back to the holding area, Lord Levid had plenty to say about what he referred to as 'the stunt I pulled'." the stag shook his head with a sigh, "He said my attempts to make him appear weak by accepting a defeated champion who was pardoned by a slave was unacceptable, and condemned me for my decision to let you determine Baron's fate." Lord Hector sat his back against the wall of the carriage and let out another sigh, "He said that my 'stunt' would not work, and, instead, he gave Baron to the Grinders."
Sidney almost fell off his seat; as it was, the glass fell off the bench. Dorias calmly leaned forward and picked it up off of the floor of the carriage and set it back in the fox's paw. When he finally found his voice, the slave master announced, "But, the Grinders... they kill... and..." he avoided gagging on his next words, "they EAT slaves."
"Yes they do." Lord Hector nodded, "Once you let Baron live Lord Levid decided that he didn't want a gladiator that was 'given' to him by a slave, and so, to spite me, he gave Baron over to the Grinders to prove a point."
"That he's insane?" Choel inquired.
Lord Hector's voice became as hard as nails, "Lord Levid is my king, Choel." the stag sat up straight, "Although I may not agree with him, I cannot let my slaves speak poorly about him, and I will not have one of my Gladiators so free with his words."
"I'm sorry, Master, I--"
"No, Choel." Lord Hector stated flatly, "I cannot have my slaves-- my GLADIATORS nonetheless showing insubordination of this sort. This is not something to apologize over." he put the bottle back into the alcove of the carriage and closed the wooden, panel, "I'm afraid you will have to be punished."
The words brought an immediate chill to Sidney, and the sensation doubled when he realized that it would be up to him to administer it. The fox began to consider crops, whips, a hot brand, a snap-flay; he shuddered.
The stag huffed a sigh, and took another sip from his drink, "You will be fined 100 coins, Choel, but next time it will be much, much worse."
The tiger was immediately confused, "I... I have no money, Master."
"I had not yet arrived at the announcement that you are all being awarded 150 coins for your activities these past two days." Lord Hector added, "Choel, you will instead receive only 50 due to your words against my king."
"Yes, Master." Choel acknowledged; his voice sounded subdued, but a very obvious smile was plastered across his muzzle.
Lord Hector grit his teeth in distaste at his next words, "Next time, I will be forced to have your tongue removed." The tiger's smile disappeared, "I am sorry, but I cannot risk having my slaves bring about any more of Lord Levid's wrath."
It took Sidney a moment to realize that his master had never revoked his right to ask questions, thus he quickly attempted to steer the conversation to safer waters. "All of the gladiators will be paid, Master?" the fox inquired, "Even though they didn't all fight?"
"Yes, and no, Sidney." the stag acknowledged pleasantly, obviously happy to move past the tiger's misdeeds, "Although not everyone fought, everyone contributed in one way or another, and it is through no fault of anyone's doing that they were not given a chance to test themselves in the ring." Lord Hector was looking down into his drink as he spoke, "But I was not talking about just the Gladiators, Slave Master."
"But there is no one else to be paid, Mast--" Sidney's words fell away when he realized what Lord Hector meant, "Do you mean...?"
"The fight purse I won from Maern's battle was nothing compared to the winnings I made on a small side wager." the stag smiled, "Between the purse, the winnings, and the sale of a wagon, it seems only fair that you be provided some small consideration for..." Lord Hector flicked an ear, "...services rendered." Sidney didn't know what to say to that, and could only think that the phrase 'services rendered' was as refined, beautiful, and courtly as his master was-- it was a term he promised himself he'd remember.
"Hugh..." came the first sound from the bison anyone had heard during the trip.
"Ah," Lord Hector's attention went to the shifting slave on the floor boards, "I was hoping you wouldn't be unconscious for the entire journey."
The bison sat up slowly, pressing his palm against his forehead. Only once the enormous slave had attained a sitting position with his back against the carriage door did Sidney realize just how injured the gladiator truly was; most of the wounds, however, didn't appear to be from his fight with Maern. He grunted in response to the stag's announcement, then added hesitantly, "Lord Hector..."
"When I heard you had been transferred into the care of the Grinders," Lord Hector held out a tumbler of amber liquid to the bison, "I could not help but think that it was a horrible, horrible waste."
"Of a gladiator." the bison finished for the stag with a nod, accepting the drink.
"Of a life." the stag corrected, "And so I purchased you from them with enough coin for them to satiate their appetite with far more meat than you would have offered."
"They'll buy others to eat?" Sidney gasped, feeling sick to his stomach.
"No." Lord Hector countered the fox's assessment, with a practiced smirk, "I went to a specialist of fake currency... all of the coin they received will be identified as counterfeit when they try to spend it at an auction; they won' be able to afford as much as a dead rat."
"They're probably be lashed." Dorias added.
"...and probably lashed." the stag's grin grew. He accepted the empty glass from the bison, who was licking several droplets of spilled liquid off his muzzle, "Tell me, slave, what is your name?" the inquiry was calm, and matter-of-fact.
"I don't have one anymore..." the bison added with a scowl, "Master."
"I thought his name was Baron?" Sidney offered, confused.
"Lord Levid names all of 'is champions Baron." Dorias explained to the fox, "When 'e gets a new favorite gladiator that one will take th' name instead."
"What was your name before Lord Levid purchased you, slave?" Lord Hector tried again, having rephrased his question.
"My mam named me Olnyr, Master." the bison stated flatly.
Lord Hector nodded at the information, "Sidney?"
"Yes, Lord Hector?"
"Where is Olnyr from?" the tone his master took was the one he used when he was attempting to teach something. The fox had considered the bison's origination before, but he had since become more certain.
"Diermyna, Master." Sidney announced.
"And how do you know this, Sidney?" the stag pressed.
"How you taught me, Lord Hector." the fox stated, "He has hooves, which means he is from Diermyna, Meisenyl, or Vensii."
"And in what way did you narrow down your choices?" Lord Hector questioned patiently.
"Vensii does not have slavery--" Sidney began, but his Master interrupted him.
"But he could have been captured," the stag interjected, "like Maern."
"His body is also not like a Vensian's." the fox added, "He is..." the slave master contemplated his words, "not like a Vensian in all ways."
"Very well." Lord Hector accepted the explanation graciously without pressing for details, "Then how do you know he's from Diermyna and not Meisenyl?"
"Finneas and Dorias are both from Meisenyl, and, even though they speak Prossian, they have a different way of talking." Sidney explained.
"An accent, very true." Lord Hector acknowledged, "But it is possible for a Meisenylian to be born to slaves in Pross and never have an accent."
"Yes, Master," Sidney accepted his master's point, "And I didn't know until just now that he was Diermynian... but he said his mother named him, which means he wasn't born a slave. Slave mothers do not name their children."
"Very good, Sidney." the stag acknowledged. He turned immediately to the bison, "Olnyr, you are now my slave. You will be given over to Sidney, the slave master who is in charge of my gladiator stables."
"Yes, Master." the bison acknowledged numbly.
"His words carry the weight of my orders." Lord Hector added.
"Yes, Master." the large gladiator affirmed his compliance.
"Do you have any questions, Olnyr?" the stag inquired.
Taken aback, it was readily obvious to Sidney that the bison was not used to being given free leave to speak his mind. "Yes, Master." Olnyr confirmed, then looked straight at Sidney. The fox inched back slightly when the bison's feral gaze targeted him, but the next words out of the gladiator's muzzle was even more unsettling, especially the humility that accompanied the words, "Can you teach me to fight like your horse, Slave Master?"
The request would have struck Sidney dumb if not for the sudden scream from outside the carriage. All ears went up and all eyes went to the wall beyond which the driver sat. A thick metal arrow tip was protruding from the wall, dripping blood, and the carriage's route became erratic, quickly picking up speed. Sidney was grateful that he wouldn't have to answer the bison's question, but he didn't like the escape route fate had chosen for him.