Slave Trade - Into The Pit
Slave Trade Into the Pit copyright 2011 comidacomida
The eastern stables, as Sidney had suspected, were in a dramatic stage of disrepair. In anticipation of pending repairs, someone had left a large stack of lumber, complete with wooden mallet and wooden stakes for fitting the interlocking beams together; slaves were never given metal tools. Letting out a deep sigh, the fox sat down in front of the graying wooden building, "I don't know the first thing about repairing this." he spoke aloud.
Maern, standing right behind Sidney, made some kind of affirmative sound, and went straight to the pile of wood. He looked back to the fox and said something in his language, then motioned to the stables, "Wet." he said clearly, then pointed to the new wood, "Dry."
"Old." Sidney stated, pointing to the stables, "New." he motioned to the pile of lumber.
Maern shook his head and reached up to an overhanging branch and pulled a small stick free. He walked back over and knelt down in front of the fox, bending the green wood, "Wet." He then picked up a small twig off the ground and snapped it cleanly, "Dry."
"Okay..." Sidney flicked an ear, "but what does that have to do with--" he paused, looking at the drooping structure and then glancing at the straight, cleanly cut lumber. "You mean..." he ventured, gazing toward the horse, "the building is wet?"
"Build-ing." Maern repeated.
"Stables." Sidney stood, motioning to it, "Stables."
"Stay-bulls wet." Maern announced, bending the small branch he'd pulled from the tree, "Bad." he added.
"So... what do we do then?" the fox asked uselessly, knowing the horse didn't understand.
Despite their lack of conversation, Maern seeemd to understand the basics of the fox's confusion and motioned for him to follow. Sidney walked after the stallion, heading into the run down stables. Powerful earthy scents hit Sidney's sensitive nose the moment he stepped into the open doorway. He could detect the smell of rotten hay, decompsing feces, and more than a few random rotting vermin; despite Sidney's prior excitement of running the stables, its condition did give him reason for pause.
"Wet." Maern, lightly slapping a large beam. He looked back to Sidney, "Bad." he motioned to it, making a show of motion that looked like he was pulling it out. "Dry good." the stallion offered, following it up with the gesture that appeared to be putting wood back in place.
"So..." Sidney pointed at the support beam, "Move the old one and bring in a new one?"
"Move old." Maern stated, "Bringin anuon."
"Well... I suppose we can't make it much worse." the slave master shrugged.
Sidney was able to distract himself for the majority of the morning with focusing his attention on the stables. The fox left the heavy lifting to the stallion, who handled it better than any worker he had ever seen. They started with the beam Maern identified. The horse reached up and flattened his palm against the roof next to the wood then, with a mighty heave, pushed up against it as he pulled at the rotting wood. The support beam crumpled in response to the stallion's strength. Although the ceiling creaked, Maern seemed to have no trouble holding it up.
"New." the stallion directed. Sidney went outside and managed to stumble back with two long pieces of wood. "Good." Maern noted, holding the ceiling up with one arm while taking a piece of wood from the fox. The horse slid the thin piece of lumber into the place the broad support beam had occupied then quickly took the next one from Sidney. Once that too was in place, Maern held up four fingers, "New." The fox moved quickly, coming back with another two pieces of wood. Once Maern placed those he held up his hand again, showing two fingers, "New." he repeated.
Although Sidney was breathing heavily from the exertion of moving the six pieces of wood, he was surprised that the stallion showed no sign of tiring from maintaining the weight of the roof. As the horse fitted the sixth and final piece of wood into place he slowly let go of the ceiling, which settled into position atop the six joined beams. "Good." he nodded, looking back to the fox.
"It's a start." Sidney offered a smile, looking around at the rest of the rotting wood that made up the stables. He motioned to another beam, "We should do another before we take you to the leather worker." Maern gave a kurt nod, and moved over to the dark-colored wooden beam. He gave it a solid slap, "Good." he offered, then motioned to the next beam in place.
"Not that one?" Sidney asked, motioning to the one the stallion passed.
"No bad." Maern noted, and then pointed to the one beyond that, "Bad."
"Well... it's good to know at least ONE of us knows what he's doing." Sidney shrugged, and moved after the horse. He watched, amazed again as the horse stretched upward, supporting the ceiling as he casually backhanded the rotting support in half. Sidney didn't need Maern to state his needs like the first time and the two worked in unison to replace the second beam; Sidney brought in another six pieces of lumber and the horse steadily worked away at making use of them. Once they were in place, Maern slowly let the ceiling settle back down onto the new support beams.
"Good?" Sidney asked.
"Good." Maern acknowledged.
The fox's tail swished slightly at the confirmation, "Alright... now we need to go... we'll work more when we get back." he offered, not that the stallion could understand him. He motioned for Maern to follow, and headed out of the stables and back toward the main portion of the courtyard. The large horse followed obediently. Sidney went straight to the far side of the courtyard where the tannery was set aside from the rest of the buildings; when the tanner was at work the foul, acrid aroma of the chemicals used in treating the leather caused a horrible stench; nobody wanted to be anywhere near it.
The leather worker, Gaius, was the closest building to the tannery; Sidney thanked his luck that the tanner wasn't working that morning. Gaius, unlike most of the residents of Lord Hector's estate was not a slave... of course, he was not exactly free either. The old porcupine was an indentured servant; Lord Hector had purchased his contract shortly after Sidney had come to live at the estate. Sidney waited patiently for Gaius to acknowledge him, which took quite some time because the old man was talking to himself in his native Tenvierian as Sidney entered the leather worker's building. When the porcupine finally DID look up he fell silent, "Oh... Sidney..."
"Hello, Sir." Sidney bowed his head respectfully; Gaius was not a Lord, but he was technically a citizen of Pross and slaves were required to show respect. He glanced back at Maern expectantly.
The horse slowly bowed his head, "Hallo, Ser." he sounded out.
"So this is the new slave Lord Hector spoke of, is he?" the porcupine questioned, picking up a pair of spectacles from the counter where he had been working. Gaius shuffled over to look Maern up and down, "He's a big fellow." and the leather worker looked to Sidney next, "A Gladiator's harness, is it?"
"Yes, sir." the fox acknowledged, ears drooping.
"Yes, Ser." the horse repeated, flicking an ear.
"Does he repeat everything you say?" the porcupine inquired with a smirk.
"He doesn't really speak Prossian yet, Sir." Sidney explained.
"Vensiian, by the sound of his accent." Gaius nodded, then looked at the horse, "Doma huus Vensii'al, iya?" he inquired in what Sidney figured was probably Vensiian.
"Iya." Maern acknowledged, and began to speak further until Gaius raised a paw to stop him.
"We'd better stick with Prossian..." the porcupine explained, "I only know a few words in Vensiian." Maern apparently got the point, as he fell silent again.
"Alright... let's see if you can get him to stand a little more relaxed." Gaius noted, heading back to his work bench to pick up his measuring strap, "I want him to stand how he normally does so I can fit him."
"Um..." Sidney paused, glancing from the leather worker to the horse, then back, "That's the way he normally stands, Sir."
"You're kidding." the old porcupine stated, pushing the spectacles further back up his nose, "He looks like someone stuck a stick down his head and out his tail... nobody stands that straight... ESPECIALLY a slave."
"He does, sir... honest." Sidney noted.
Gaius sighed, "Never you mind... Lord Hector requested a harness, not fitted armor... so it doesn't matter that much anyway." The porcupine moved to the horse and got right to work. Although Maern fidgeted once or twice at the leather worker's attention he remained otherwise perfectly still. "There... that wasn't so bad now was it?" Gaius inquired of the stallion. Maern, quite obviously had no reply.
"Lord Hector expects to have Maern on the field after mid-day tea." Sidney reported to the porcupine, "Will the harness be ready by then?"
The leather worker laughed, "I have several harnesses waiting for use. Your slave is a big one, but I should be able to modify something before mid-day tea even starts."
"Thank you, Sir." Sidney acknowledged gratefully, bowing deeply.
"Thenk yoo, Ser." Maern nodded his head to the porcupine.
Gaius simply nodded, "Of course... of course..." he waved the two slaves away after opening up one of the wooden cabinets at the back of his shop. The porcupine started sorting through numerous sets of barding, already lost in his work.
"Okay... I think we're done here." Sidney offered to the horse, "We may as well get back to the stables."
"Stay-bulls." Maern acknowledged, and followed after the fox.
The slave remained behind Sidney as the two made their way back to the dilapidated stables. Sidney came to a stop when he saw two barrels waiting outside the half-open door of the structure. "We have our own supplies?" he asked of Maern, and then rolled his eyes at his own stupidity of asking the horse. "Come on." he noted, and went to inspect the containers. The horse remained where he was, ears up, facing the fox.
"It's food." Sidney explained, motioning to the barrels. He took another two steps before looking back at Maern, who continued staring at him questioningly. "Food... you know..." he made a gesture of stuffing pawfuls of air into his muzzle, "food."
"Fude." Maern noted, flicking an ear.
"Right... and they're giving us a stock of it." the fox stopped next to the barrels, gingerly resting a paw down atop one. A strange, almost alien feeling of elation flowed through him the moment he actually felt the wood of the containers. The emotion bubbled up and escaped him in the form of a giddy half-dance, half-leap, "We have our own larder!" he exclaimed happily, spinning around in a clumsy pirouette. The motion stopped immediately the moment he heard a loud blurt from the horse.
Sidney turned back to Maern; the horse had a bemused expression on his muzzle, and it took a moment before the fox realized what he had heard: the horse had barked out a deep-bellied 'ha'. The slave master's ears reddened slightly in embarrassment, "I've never been in control of a larder before... that's all."
"Fude?" Maern inquired.
"Right." Sidney acknowledged, "Ever since I can remember I've had others tell me when and how much to eat and--" the fox paused, realizing the horse wasn't as interested in the story as he was inquiring about the contents of the barrels, "Oh... yea... food." and he moved over to the large containers. Sidney grabbed hold of the metal bands securing the first barrel and gave a tug; it didn't move an inch, "I think..." and he tried again to no avail, "We should probably get them inside...." and he strained with all his might, managing to drag it an inch closer to the doorway.
Maern looked at him questioningly, motioning to the barrels, "Fude..." and then pointed to the doorway, "Stay-bulls?"
Sidney nodded, motioning to the barrel, "We really should get them in--" and he paused as the horse grabbed the barrel and picked it up, settling it onto one of his shoulders, "--side." the fox finished, watching as Maern casually walked the container into the stables and set it down then came back for the second, "Master Hector is going to be testing your fighting skills later today." Sidney explained to Maern, "I'm not sure you should go tiring yourself out right now." The horse walked past him, oblivious to the concern, and picked up the second barrel with just as much ease as the first and walked it back to the stables.
"Fude. Stay-bulls." Maern announced from inside the building. He turned to face Sidney, standing beside the two containers, "Good?"
Sidney shrugged helplessly, "Yea... good." and he couldn't help but let his tail wag... just a little. The fox went over to stand beside the horse, "Now let's see what they gave us..." he began pulling at the metal tab securing the cap on the barrel, "Sometimes, if you're really lucky, the huntsmen give the Lords of the city a chance to buy extra meat." the fox gave the metal a tug, "Lord Hector likes to make sure that his slaves stay healthy. Most slave houses get a small amount of whatever he can get cheap... not that you'd be all interested in meat being a horse and all." Sidney paused, looking at the metal wire that had shifted only a few inches for all his effort, "Maern?" he asked, looking back at the horse.
"Sir." the stallion responded.
Sidney reached over and grabbed the healer's kit from its place by the door and turned to face the horse, "Closed." he explained, holding the kit in one arm. He then flipped the lid, "Open."
"Clossd.... oh-pin." Maern repeated.
Sidney nodded, then pointed to the barrel with only the first half-foot of metal wire undone, "Closed." he waited for the horse to look at the barrel, "Bad." he noted, then paused for a second, "Open good."
The stallion flicked an ear and, without further delay, moved over to the barrel. He pulled the wire free and popped the top. "Oh-pin."
"Thank you." Sidney noted amiably, and went to inspect the contents.
"Well-come." the horse answered, and waited patiently as Sidney began to sort through a collection of numerous sacks and satchels.
"Oats... rice... flour... barley... beans..." Sidney counted them off, pulling out bag after bag, "This looks like it's enough for a whole Slave House... it'll last us a month at least!" he noted, astounded. His eyes slowly trailed over to the second barrel.
Without having to be told, Maern moved over to the container and, in a matter of seconds, had it open. Sidney's head swam at the powerful aroma of blood. The fox's sensitive nose had long-since been able to tell the difference between feral meat and... other kinds. When Sidney had served Lord Bulhue the hippo occasionally had him join the servants on shopping trips, using him to identify the merchants that were selling real animal meat versus the less savory sort who put 'extra slaves' to new uses. While chopping up slaves for meat was not illegal it was considered a very low-class food source.
"That's real meat..." Sidney whimpered faintly; he'd had meat on occasion... usually once per week but it was rarely more than a small sliver included into a large bowl of soup; he was looking at an entire barrel of it. The fox moved forward and began pulling out the various bags of salted meat, jerky, and treated meat; his heart almost skipped a beat when he even found a tightly wrapped satchel of fresh meat. "This couldn't have been meant for us..." the fox murmured, slowly unwrapping it, "That's a lot of meat."
"Meet." Maern announced, almost making Sidney jump at the sound of his voice. Surveying so much meat almost made the fox feel like he was breaking some kind of rule.
"It's for us... I think." Sidney noted, looking down at the still damp meat he held in its wrapping. He sniffed at it tentatively, and paused, "It's... a heart." he felt the bile begin to rise in his throat; he had an aversion to organs. The fox quickly shoved the heart, wrapping and all into Maern's hands, "Oh Gods... it's... ugh..." he fell to his knees, feeling queasy. He coughed, spitting onto the floor once, "not insides... can't do insides..."
The feeling only got worse when he heard the sound of wet flesh and fluid. Sidney looked back over his shoulder, feeling green. The fox froze; Maern stood to the side, jaw moving as he chewed an enormous hunk of raw meat, blood dribbling down his chin; a piece of the heart was missing. The slave master opened his muzzle to object at the scene, but was forced to look away; more than words came out. Sidney heaved, holding himself with his arms as his mostly-empty stomach decided that it didn't like what little it held, and he evacuated it onto the stable floor.
A broad hand rested on Sidney's shoulder, pulling him up once had finished retching. The fox slowly turned, refusing to look up at the blood dribbling from the horse's mouth, "Horses don't eat hearts... do they?" he asked, not entirely expecting an answer.
"Meet. Good." Maern announced, lowering the heart down to Sidney's eye-level.
The fox quickly backed away, narrowly missing the small puddle of vomit, "No. Nononono." he quickly noted, holding his paws up between him and the horse, "Not again... I won't ever eat that stuff again." he rubbed at his nose, trying to cover it with his paw. Mucus ran down his whiskers, saliva trailing off his lips. His eyes were wet and it was all he could do to stay standing. Maern only took a moment to realize what the issue was; the horse folded the cloth back over the heart and wiped his muzzle clean with the back of his arm. The stallion, ears up, questioned Sidney, "Meet no good?"
"I... can't..." Sidney noted, leaning against one of the stable stalls, "a long time ago... I..." he shuddered, "no organs... I don't eat that kind of meat." he noted. He knew he had no way of explaining to the horse about his time in the slave pits... the way the hyenas handled the slaves that weren't marketable. They half-starved most of the slaves... fed them 'scraps'. The hyenas always ate well... they ate the slaves they didn't sell. The slavers never ate the organs though... THAT was what the living slaves were fed. The fox almost vomited again just thinking about it.
It took several minutes before Sidney had recovered his composure. Maern moved the barrels out of the way and, having figured out the fox's aversion, stowed the half-eaten heart elsewhere; Sidney didn't mind in the least. The horse went straight back to moving lumber while Sidney cleaned up the mess he left on the floor. Once the remnants of the fox's stomach contents were removed he went straight into clearing out the moldy hay and the rest of the crusty contents of the stable stalls. Work continued right up until Sidney heard the clear, unmistakable toning of the manor's bell identifying mid-day tea.
The clear peal sent a shiver up Sidney's spine. Regardless of how he would have continued to work to keep his mind off it there was no way around the significance: he had fifteen minutes to get Maern suited up and brought to the field behind the manor. Sidney was going to deliver the stallion to Lord Hector; if things went poorly then Sidney would probably be ordered to dig Maern's grave; if things went well then Sidney was going to be acting as a Slave Master to a Gladiator. The fox couldn't fool himself-- he wasn't ready for either outcome.