They kept me in a small, thinly clad room in the tunnel system. As with all the rooms, the floor, ceiling, and walls were dirt, nearly compacted to stone due to the constant shuffle of feet and use over the last few thousand years. A bed was the only piece of furniture to be found in the small space, low to the ground with a slim hay mattress atop it. There was a meager set of blankets for the cold desert nights, but with no windows in the room my days were unbearably hot.
Sometimes I tried to sleep away the heat, laying on the ground was coolest, where the dry dirt soaked away what seemed like half my body weight in sweat. Mercifully, I was given unlimited amounts of water. Gaeaians may have harsh punishments but at least they were not cruel to their own prisoners.
I had a week until the traders came and during that time the thought of escaping was fleeting at best. Digging through any of my cubes surfaces might be possible if I broke apart the wooden bed, but I was not sure what lay on the other side. I could be miles above or below ground, or I might stumble into a guards living room. If that were the case, I was sure to be kept a close eye on during the journey to Eryn, and it was during the trek I planned to escape. So I grudgingly practiced patience and spoke cheerfully with any of the servants that came to bring me food or water. Let them think me complacent, I thought. No need to raise suspicions. Yet.
When the traders arrived, I was given a plain set of light, rough clothes. My hands were bound with twine, and I was marched out to the mouth of the Spurt.
Two jets of water erupted from different tunnels on the face of the mountain, one a little higher than the other. They rained down, mists making the air damp to breath and the bottoms of my feet (I hadn't been given shoes) sink a little in the mud. The water sprayed out with a thunderous sound about thirty feet in opposite directions before starting the two rivers that flowed through the desert.
Most people considered the twin rivers life bringers, and I supposed they were in a figurative sense. They were the only source of water throughout the entire desert and the only thing constant among our shifting sands. I didn't view them with god-like reverence, though. I didn't really believe in gods. The earth and universe was enough of a natural wonder on it's own without the help of divine influence. The Spurt, for instance, was the product of an underground stream under severe pressure, causing the water to shoot out of the earth. It was marvelous and I would have studied the geology of it if I had been able to stay at the Spurt.
Instead, I was being tethered to a saddle horn so I could walk along side a fidgety hop. I patted it's rough neck soothingly and it rolled it's right eye to look at me.
"Don't worry," I told it, smiling and massaging the back of it's neck. The creature calmed a little under my touch.
"He's a biter, miss," the trader warned as he finished tying me to the hop.
I shrugged. "Better to befriend him, then."
The slaver huffed a laugh and swung up on the lead hop in front of mine. I continued to pet the hop, odds were that I would stay tied to the same animal for the rest of the trip. If I didn't manage an escape I would rather be friends with it than fighting with it all the time. I looked back and saw a few other people standing along side hops.
Slaves. I thought, frowning to myself. Other slaves.
I was a slave now, even if I escaped. I might as well get used to the idea.
Later, probably tonight around the campfire, we would get our brands on the palm of our hand. One horizontal line people would recognize us as slaves, then another on our upper arm when we were sold to show where we belonged. The first I couldn't avoid, so I would resign myself to it. Even if it meant I could be returned to the slave trade later. Now was not the time to protest though I knew some in our small group would, a few were already crying at their predicament.
My right hand squeezed reflexively, anticipating the burn.
The front slave driver brought two fingers to his mouth and gave a whistle. The hops jutted forward and we moved along into the dark tunnels. No one spoke or gave a sound as we left the last of freedom and daylight behind.
****
I cradled my right hand to my chest, huddled next to my hop's head where we sat on the still warm sand. Night had come only after a grueling day of walking; first through the tunnels that brought us out on the far side of the mountains then along the sand dunes. I hadn't thought much of walking in the desert until we reached the sand where, shoeless as I was, it burnt my feet. Now all I needed was to burn my left hand and my appendages would match.
I looked at the angry red welt between the thumb and fore finger that stretched to the other side of my palm and grimaced. It had been all I could do to keep from screaming as on of the four men held me still and another ran a glowing rod across my hand. A young man was up next and he screamed freely, trying to jerk his hand away. My eyes watered in sympathy for him.
The hop, I had started to call him Friend, nuzzled my shoulder. I reached up absently to scratch his nose with my left hand.
"You make friends quickly," commented the same trader that had tied me to Friend earlier that day. He handed me a plate of thin, watery soup and a hard piece of bread.
"Doesn't take much," I shrugged, breaking the stale bread in half and giving some to Friend. He chomped at it eagerly.
The man smiled down at me, revealing some missing teeth. His eyes sparkled darkly.
"We could be friends," he said gruffly, reaching down to pat my knee. I stiffened. "You're a cute little thing."
Friend felt my change in mood instantly and swung his head round to bite fiercely at the cretin's arm. He snatched his hand away, but not before Friend got hold of a chunk of skin. I smiled up at him serenely as he swore and jerked free.
"No thanks. I have a friend."
The slaver grumbled and shot a seething look at the hop that gloated next to me before walking away.
"Territorial, aren't we?" I muttered to Friend.
I looked at the angry red welt between the thumb and fore finger that stretched to the other side of my palm and grimaced. It had been all I could do to keep from screaming as on of the four men held me still and another ran a glowing rod across my hand. A young man was up next and he screamed freely, trying to jerk his hand away. My eyes watered in sympathy for him.
The hop, I had started to call him Friend, nuzzled my shoulder. I reached up absently to scratch his nose with my left hand.
"You make friends quickly," commented the same trader that had tied me to Friend earlier that day. He handed me a plate of thin, watery soup and a hard piece of bread.
"Doesn't take much," I shrugged, breaking the stale bread in half and giving some to Friend. He chomped at it eagerly.
The man smiled down at me, revealing some missing teeth. His eyes sparkled darkly.
"We could be friends," he said gruffly, reaching down to pat my knee. I stiffened. "You're a cute little thing."
Friend felt my change in mood instantly and swung his head round to bite fiercely at the cretin's arm. He snatched his hand away, but not before Friend got hold of a chunk of skin. I smiled up at him serenely as he swore and jerked free.
"No thanks. I have a friend."
The slaver grumbled and shot a seething look at the hop that gloated next to me before walking away.
"Territorial, aren't we?" I muttered to Friend.
He snorted and I held out my good hand for him to lean into so I could scratch his four inch ears.
"That's okay," I told him. "I'm thankful."
The others, both slaves and traders, were settling in for the night now that the branding was over. My fellow slaves either rested against their hops, cuddling in to the animals for warmth, or edging close to the dying coals of the fire. I hugged my knees and stared at the coals, determined to stay awake.
Tonight was the night I would try to escape. We had made it farther than I thought we would today, and were close enough to the Bomo boarder for me to try and run. If I could get far enough away before sunrise, the traders would have to let me go or be late for auction. With some cooperation from Friend, the odds looked good.
I pretended to fall asleep sitting up and resting against my knees until I could hear snores and deep breathing from almost everyone in the camp. Friend had stretched out his neck on the ground, but his eyes were open and watching. I lifted my head carefully, looking around the dead camp fire to be sure everyone was asleep. Slowly I stretched out and shook a sharp bit of metal out of my left sleeve that I had swiped by the fire during the branding. I placed the tool between my knees and started rubbing the twine around my wrists against it.
Friend lifted his head when I began to move and watched curiously as I worked. With an effort, I finally managed to snap the bonds. I shook out my wrists, rubbing the raw circles with my fingertips.
I smiled at Friend and he blinked a large eye at me.
"Ready?" I mouthed to him, reaching out a newly freed hand to steady myself as I stood in the easily shifting sand.
The hop seemed to understand and he shifted his legs so I could mount his broad back. I swung my leg over as he stood, shaking out his mane. I tensed. If anyone in the party were going to wake up, now would be the time.
Without a backward glance I grabbed the reigns with my left hand and flicked them. Friend didn't need much encouragement, and we trotted out to the west. Leaving the traders direct line of sight as quickly as possible...
The next day brought its usual dry heat but no sight of the slave drivers. By afternoon, my hopes were high that they had given up searching for me. Now all I had to do was worry about surviving through the desert to Bomo. By my estimations, it was only two days to the nearest village nestled in the neighboring country's swampy boarder lands. I silently thanked my grandmother for making me study world maps and geography.
It seemed, however, I needed to work harder on the practical applications of my studies. Three days away from the slavers and I was hopelessly lost in Bomo's boarder lands.
I had watched the landscape change from harsh, orange desert to bristled shrubbery with excitement. And I knew I had left my country behind when rain clouds gathered and pushed out a steady, light rain. It felt good to my dry, cracking skin, but it soon had my light, minimal slave clothes soaked through. It also clouded the sky all day and night, so I couldn't navigate by the stars or sun.
"Mental note. Get n-new clothes, huh?" I chattered to Friend as we sat in the mud beneath a tree on the fifth night.
He snorted a response and I huddled closer to him for warmth. At least he was fed and watered due to the massive hump on his back that stored water and fat for desert journeys. Once we entered the forests and the thick, waist high water of true swamp land I knew things were beyond bad.
I had given Friend a break from carrying me and held onto his reigns incase my shaky legs gave out from under me. Walking through the sludge-like water was hard and I felt light headed. With every step came a strange slurping sound as the swamps surface opened up to free my feet.
"I spy..." I said to the hop, looking around for something new for him to guess at. "Something gray."
Friend wasn't fooled, he huffed at me through his large nostrils and butted me with the tip of his nose.
"Right," I said, laughing weakly and wondered if I was going delirious. I was playing a child's game with a hop. "Stupid choice."
He shook his head to dislodge the gnats that had taken to flying around his ears.
"I'm sorry we're lost," I said to him for the hundredth time. I hated to think the kind animal might perish along with me. "You could leave and save yourself. I'm sure you could find your way."
The hop gave an indignant sort of snort.
"Hey, I'd let you lead me out of here, but every time I try to give you free reign all you do is stand there."
Now he sighed.
"I wish you could talk," I said absentmindedly. "But if you started right now, I guess I'd think I was mad."
Friend suddenly stopped our slow trudge through the muddy water, his reigns jerked out of my hand. I almost stumbled.
"Hey," I said mildly, turning back to him where he stood. We had been on a slight incline. The water was only up to my mid-calf. I motioned for him to keep coming.
"Come on, big guy," I said, reaching for his lead. I tugged gently on the tether, he didn't budge. I frowned up at him. "Do you need break?"
His long ears were rotating back and forth nervously and he shifted weight between his four feet. I wondered what was bothering him. I came closer to stroke his nose.
"I'm tired too," I whispered wryly, resting my forehead against his long face. "But I have to keep going."
I tuned and walked forward, looking over my shoulder. "See? There's nothing to be afraid o-oh!"
With a splash, I sank below the surface of the water. My feet didn't find any ground. With an effort, I made myself swim through the muck to find the surface. My face broke free and as the mud unclogged from my ears I could hear Friend baying anxiously. I coughed.
"Okay. Okay," I said more to myself than the panicking animal. I spit some muddy water out of my mouth. "A sink hole. Great. I can deal."
Taking in as much air as possible I flung myself toward Friend. He pawed anxiously where he stood, not daring to move forward. The only thing I knew to do was spread myself out on top and swim for land. Try as I might, however, I wasn't getting anywhere. Friend seemed to be the same distance away as before, fretting and making worried noises.
I tried to make my arms tread water.
"It's okay," I said to him, my legs sinking further. I was up to my neck and I could feel the mud sucking at me.
He could see me giving up and he really started to make some noise, moving back and forth along the edge of the hole. He bayed shrilly and shook his head. He seemed to be angry with me.
Which was okay, I was pretty angry with me, too. Coming all this way to find myself in a sink hole was maddening.
I tried to smile reassuringly at my companion as I pushed the mud away from my face with my right hand. The water stung my burn, which was now a delightful puss color from lack of treatment. Friend bayed at me again, shuffling forward.
"Stay 'ack!" I shouted at him, water flooding my mouth for a moment. Friend put his head down and pawed at the ground.
I sunk another inch and wondered why I was trying to comfort a hop as I was drowning. The prospect of death does strange things to people. I tilted my head back to breath better, my right hand and left fingers the only other body parts above water.
So this is it, I thought to myself. Maybe I deserved to die here, drowning in mud. Berrik's face flashed in front of me and I wondered if this was some sort of cosmic justice. Or curse. Tears stung at my eyes.
I could feel the hole pulling me and in a last panic I reached up and screamed as the water closed over my face.
The others, both slaves and traders, were settling in for the night now that the branding was over. My fellow slaves either rested against their hops, cuddling in to the animals for warmth, or edging close to the dying coals of the fire. I hugged my knees and stared at the coals, determined to stay awake.
Tonight was the night I would try to escape. We had made it farther than I thought we would today, and were close enough to the Bomo boarder for me to try and run. If I could get far enough away before sunrise, the traders would have to let me go or be late for auction. With some cooperation from Friend, the odds looked good.
I pretended to fall asleep sitting up and resting against my knees until I could hear snores and deep breathing from almost everyone in the camp. Friend had stretched out his neck on the ground, but his eyes were open and watching. I lifted my head carefully, looking around the dead camp fire to be sure everyone was asleep. Slowly I stretched out and shook a sharp bit of metal out of my left sleeve that I had swiped by the fire during the branding. I placed the tool between my knees and started rubbing the twine around my wrists against it.
Friend lifted his head when I began to move and watched curiously as I worked. With an effort, I finally managed to snap the bonds. I shook out my wrists, rubbing the raw circles with my fingertips.
I smiled at Friend and he blinked a large eye at me.
"Ready?" I mouthed to him, reaching out a newly freed hand to steady myself as I stood in the easily shifting sand.
The hop seemed to understand and he shifted his legs so I could mount his broad back. I swung my leg over as he stood, shaking out his mane. I tensed. If anyone in the party were going to wake up, now would be the time.
Without a backward glance I grabbed the reigns with my left hand and flicked them. Friend didn't need much encouragement, and we trotted out to the west. Leaving the traders direct line of sight as quickly as possible...
The next day brought its usual dry heat but no sight of the slave drivers. By afternoon, my hopes were high that they had given up searching for me. Now all I had to do was worry about surviving through the desert to Bomo. By my estimations, it was only two days to the nearest village nestled in the neighboring country's swampy boarder lands. I silently thanked my grandmother for making me study world maps and geography.
It seemed, however, I needed to work harder on the practical applications of my studies. Three days away from the slavers and I was hopelessly lost in Bomo's boarder lands.
I had watched the landscape change from harsh, orange desert to bristled shrubbery with excitement. And I knew I had left my country behind when rain clouds gathered and pushed out a steady, light rain. It felt good to my dry, cracking skin, but it soon had my light, minimal slave clothes soaked through. It also clouded the sky all day and night, so I couldn't navigate by the stars or sun.
"Mental note. Get n-new clothes, huh?" I chattered to Friend as we sat in the mud beneath a tree on the fifth night.
He snorted a response and I huddled closer to him for warmth. At least he was fed and watered due to the massive hump on his back that stored water and fat for desert journeys. Once we entered the forests and the thick, waist high water of true swamp land I knew things were beyond bad.
I had given Friend a break from carrying me and held onto his reigns incase my shaky legs gave out from under me. Walking through the sludge-like water was hard and I felt light headed. With every step came a strange slurping sound as the swamps surface opened up to free my feet.
"I spy..." I said to the hop, looking around for something new for him to guess at. "Something gray."
Friend wasn't fooled, he huffed at me through his large nostrils and butted me with the tip of his nose.
"Right," I said, laughing weakly and wondered if I was going delirious. I was playing a child's game with a hop. "Stupid choice."
He shook his head to dislodge the gnats that had taken to flying around his ears.
"I'm sorry we're lost," I said to him for the hundredth time. I hated to think the kind animal might perish along with me. "You could leave and save yourself. I'm sure you could find your way."
The hop gave an indignant sort of snort.
"Hey, I'd let you lead me out of here, but every time I try to give you free reign all you do is stand there."
Now he sighed.
"I wish you could talk," I said absentmindedly. "But if you started right now, I guess I'd think I was mad."
Friend suddenly stopped our slow trudge through the muddy water, his reigns jerked out of my hand. I almost stumbled.
"Hey," I said mildly, turning back to him where he stood. We had been on a slight incline. The water was only up to my mid-calf. I motioned for him to keep coming.
"Come on, big guy," I said, reaching for his lead. I tugged gently on the tether, he didn't budge. I frowned up at him. "Do you need break?"
His long ears were rotating back and forth nervously and he shifted weight between his four feet. I wondered what was bothering him. I came closer to stroke his nose.
"I'm tired too," I whispered wryly, resting my forehead against his long face. "But I have to keep going."
I tuned and walked forward, looking over my shoulder. "See? There's nothing to be afraid o-oh!"
With a splash, I sank below the surface of the water. My feet didn't find any ground. With an effort, I made myself swim through the muck to find the surface. My face broke free and as the mud unclogged from my ears I could hear Friend baying anxiously. I coughed.
"Okay. Okay," I said more to myself than the panicking animal. I spit some muddy water out of my mouth. "A sink hole. Great. I can deal."
Taking in as much air as possible I flung myself toward Friend. He pawed anxiously where he stood, not daring to move forward. The only thing I knew to do was spread myself out on top and swim for land. Try as I might, however, I wasn't getting anywhere. Friend seemed to be the same distance away as before, fretting and making worried noises.
I tried to make my arms tread water.
"It's okay," I said to him, my legs sinking further. I was up to my neck and I could feel the mud sucking at me.
He could see me giving up and he really started to make some noise, moving back and forth along the edge of the hole. He bayed shrilly and shook his head. He seemed to be angry with me.
Which was okay, I was pretty angry with me, too. Coming all this way to find myself in a sink hole was maddening.
I tried to smile reassuringly at my companion as I pushed the mud away from my face with my right hand. The water stung my burn, which was now a delightful puss color from lack of treatment. Friend bayed at me again, shuffling forward.
"Stay 'ack!" I shouted at him, water flooding my mouth for a moment. Friend put his head down and pawed at the ground.
I sunk another inch and wondered why I was trying to comfort a hop as I was drowning. The prospect of death does strange things to people. I tilted my head back to breath better, my right hand and left fingers the only other body parts above water.
So this is it, I thought to myself. Maybe I deserved to die here, drowning in mud. Berrik's face flashed in front of me and I wondered if this was some sort of cosmic justice. Or curse. Tears stung at my eyes.
I could feel the hole pulling me and in a last panic I reached up and screamed as the water closed over my face.
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