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NAVIORIGINALFANFICTIONFANFICTION IIRECOMMENDATIONS |
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Chapter TwoMicah trailed his new master silently, stomach churning. He was *inexplicably* glad to be away from his former master. The image of the man’s cruel grey eyes was enough to send a shiver through his body. But what if this man was worse? The young slave didn't know anything about Ailans. Were they cruel? Violent?Unfortunately, being so distracted, he failed to notice the mounted guard detail making their way through the city. A rough push from one of the guards sent him colliding with his master, tripping them both up. Horrified, Micah quickly moved away, fearing a violent reproach. The foreigner moved to stand in front of Micah and reached out. The slave flinched slightly. A large, warm hand tilted the Tenran's chin up until he was looking into light-brown eyes. For the first time, the boy got a good look at his new master. He was tall; taller than any Tenran he'd seen, with broad features and a crop of straight, ear-length hair that matched his eyes. Like all Ailans, his skin was pale, blemished only by the stubble on his face. Unnerved by the silence, he swallowed nervously. The man spoke to him; not realizing his words meant nothing to the boy. He lowered his gaze to the ground again to hide his confusion. More words were spoken. The tone in the man’s voice was expectant. Micah trembled. “Please…I don’t understand what you ask.” He murmured in Tenran, desperate to avoid the man’s anger. He heard the man sigh. Then the Ailan grasped his hand and tugged slightly as he began to move off. Micah let go of the breath he’d been holding. * * * Rowan cursed himself for an idiot. Of course the boy couldn’t speak Common. Why the hell should he? And now he was going to be responsible for the boy until he managed to get back to Ailanace, and leave him in the care of the mages at the academy. Shit. When they got to the gates, Rowan took one look at the extensive line of traders, wagons, livestock and people waiting to show their documentation, and swore irritably. There was no way they were going to get out of the city tonight. Like most cities the gates closed soon after sunset, meaning they'd have to spend the night in Kanthal. Glancing at his charge, he reflected that perhaps it was a good idea – the boy looked like he was ready to collapse. * * * Twenty minutes later found them outside a place called the “Black Swan”. Or perhaps it was the “Evil Bird” - the picture on the establishment’s name plate certainly looked sinister to Rowan. Since the swordsman had already stabled his horse upon entering the city, there was no need to visit the moderately sized barn on the other side of the courtyard. As they entered the establishment, Rowan took stock. Relatively big. That meant baths. Cleanish. Good. There were a few people already digging into the evening meal. The innkeep gave Rowan a filthy look as he approached her. He raised an eyebrow. What a good way to attract customers… Rowan bowed in the same manner he’d seen merchants and customers do in the city, with one palm cupping his fist. He motioned to the keys hanging behind the desk and held up one finger. He turned around to gesture to the people eating and made the signal for two. Lastly he indicated to a pile of towels sitting on a low table and gestured at himself and the boy. He was stunned to see the woman shake her head furiously, all the while muttering in Tenran. She made shooing motions at him. Rowan frowned, ready to argue. The woman then huffed in irritation and grabbed his sleeve. Shocked at this woman’s utter rudeness, he let himself be led across the room. He became confused when the lady didn’t escort them to the door. Instead, they went past the kitchen and into another smaller common room. Inside a small number of people sat talking amongst themselves. All of them wore red robe-type outfits –both the males and females. When they noticed Rowan and the proprietress, they stood and bowed at the waist. The innkeep beckoned one of the males, who promptly appeared before her. He smiled slowly at Rowan, in an almost predatory way. Rowan’s eyebrows migrated into his hairline. His suspicions were confirmed when the innkeep made a gesture of dismissal to his young charge. So that’s what this is about. She wants me to pay for one of their slaves. Rowan frowned and shook his head sharply. He reached into his coin purse and removed two small gold coins. Far more than was necessary at any inn. The king is going to kill me. This allowance was supposed to go further. To prevent any misunderstanding, he placed an arm around the lad’s shoulder as he handed over the money. The woman’s lips thinned, but she dismissed the robed boy and gestured for Rowan to follow her back into the parlor. * * * By this point, Micah's back was aching badly from the various beatings given to him by his former master. The inside of his thighs were sticky, meaning the cuts on his legs had started to bleed again. Luckily, the blood hadn't seeped through the fabric of his selta, at least not yet anyway. He leaned heavily on the banister as he climbed the stairs after his master. There was a funny pain in his head and he wasn't sure how long it had been there. Right now it felt like it had always existed. Maybe it was because he hadn't eaten? Micah struggled to remember the last time he'd had food but it was becoming harder to think. He swayed slightly at the top of the stairs, causing his master to regard him, sharply. What's wrong with me? Alarmed, the slave shook his head to clear it. Pain flared becoming white hot. He cried out, not sure if he did it aloud or mentally. The hallway swayed and black spots appeared in his vision. Micah felt himself falling, and moved his sluggish arms in order to brace himself. He was unconscious before he could anticipate the impact. It never came. | |