Slave Trade - Convalescence
Slave Trade Convalescence copyright 2011 comidacomida
Sidney awoke with a groan, forcing himself up to a sitting position. Using his left arm to hold himself steady, the fox favored his right arm, which was still burning with pain from the snap-flay strike. Faint golden light filtered into the work shed, hinting at the dawn; Sidney was immediately concerned... had he slept through a whole afternoon and a night?
The horse's deep voice spoke several unfamiliar words, pulling the fox's attention his way. Sidney's charge was kneeling on a pile of hay, slowly pouring water into a bowl which held an herb-laced cloth. The fox flicked an ear, and stood, winching as he felt the torn flesh beneath his bandage pull tightly. Sidney rested his paw atop the wrap, shuffling the short distance to the horse before sitting down across the bowl from him.
"You're better with bandages than I am with a snap-flay... and a snap-flay is part of my job, I guess." the fox let out a sigh. Sidney ran his left paw through the fur on his head, watching as the horse carefully dampened the cloth before looking to him. He recognized the horse's gestures by that time to know enough to present his arm, and he waited patiently as the old bandages were slowly unwrapped.
"You must be familiar with bandages, huh?" Sidney asked.
"Ban-duh-dige." the horse responded, moving an enormous thumb to press down on what remained of the bandage directly atop the fox's wound. Sidney yelped, and moved his paw to remove the slave's finger, but the horse gave him a firm shake, "No."
"I'm cut there!" Sidney objected, "What are you--?" but his objection was pulled from his muzzle as the horse quickly pulled back, taking the bandage completely off of the fox's arm. "It..." he looked down at the torn slashes in his arm, "it's bleeding again..." he murmured, then did a double take; every time he'd ever had a bandage removed from a relatively fresh wound it was pure agony... but he didn't feel it that time. He looked up to the horse, who's piercing blue eyes were watching him intently. "It didn't hurt..." Sidney explained.
The horse held up the used bandages, motioning to pieces of dried blood and several lines of scabs stuck to the cloth. He said a few words in his native language, then motioned to Sidney's arm. The fox placed his arm in the horse's grasp, "Alright... but I have to look at your back and your shoulder... we have to get you ready for work...." Sidney sighed, "Uh... of some kind."
The horse's ears remained focused on him despite his inability to understand the fox, but his eyes were focused on the bandage, which he slipped beneath Sidney's arm... but he didn't close it over the wound yet. The fox watched as the horse reached back into the collection of herbs and pulled out a small bottle and looked it over. The horse popped the top and sniffed at it, and held it out for Sidney to see. He said a word in Vensiian.
Sidney was unable to read the label, but he could tell what it was by the scent, "Thyme."
"Tiem." the horse repeated.
"It's an herb used in cooking." Sidney noted, "I'm not sure what it's doing in--" he paused as the horse dumped several pinches out into the palm of his enormous hand, then tilted his head back and emptied it into his muzzle, "Um... yea... right... it's used for eating."
Sidney watched the horse curiously as the slave casually chewed on the herb. The fox realized that it had been at least a day since the horse had eaten... was he so hungry that he was going to-- but the fox was confused further as the horse brought a hand up to his muzzle, pushing the mixed saliva and thyme out of his muzzle using his tongue, creating a long line of the goo on his finger.
"What are you going to do with---?" Sidney's ears went up further, until he saw the finger near his arm, "you're not going to--" and the fox's ears fell to the side of his head as the horse drew the finger across the wound, "I guess you are..." Sidney acknowledged, but didn't bother putting up a fight as the horse finished the work and completed bandaging his arm. The fox flexed the limb experimentally, "You're way too good at this." he noted, "Thank you."
"Well-come." the horse answered.
"Now you... turn around." Sidney directed, moving his finger in a circular motion. The horse understood, and obediently complied, about-facing and settling back to the ground. Despite the fact that the slave was sitting, Sidney still had to stand to better focus on the horse's bandages. The fox unwrapped the outer layer of the bandage and then, pausing for a moment as he chewed on his tongue, made his decision... and pressed a paw firmly against the horse's back in imitation of the horse's own action against his arm.
The horse chuckled, but only faintly, pushing his back more firmly against the fox's tentative paw. The slave said something in his own language.
"Harder?" Sidney asked, meeting the horse's pressure with more of his own.
"har-dur... yes... hardur." the horse replied, then quickly leaned forward. Sidney let out a yip of surprise as the bandage tore away from the horse's flesh. He blinked once, then again, feeling sick as he saw the numerous wounds on the equine's shoulder start to weep... but he quickly noticed that they were not as bad as when he first dressed them.
"I can't believe that works..." Sidney murmured, setting the used bandage aside. The horse reached over and slid the herbal bowl back behind himself to the fox. "Thank you." Sidney noted, accepting the bowl and the bandages already soaking within them.
"Well-come." the horse acknowledged, and then slid the jar of thyme as well.
"You..." Sidney flicked an ear, "I mean... I don't think...." he felt his heart start to beat a little faster, "I'm not really into..."
"Tiem." the horse stated, "Ban-duh-dige."
"It's a cooking herb." Sidney objected, "Why would--"
"Tiem." the horse repeated with conviction.
"Who's the slave and who's the slave master here?" the fox mumbled, but he did as directed, taking a pawful of the herb and dumping it into his muzzle. Sidney continued to prepare the bandages as he began salivating almost immediately; the powerful flavor of the herb practically had him drooling.
"Eih nepper 'ad a mouff fuh uf Fhyme aforr." Sidney mentioned, stopping at the end of the comment to lick several errant dribblets of saliva-and-thyme back into his muzzle.
"Tiem... ban-duh-dige." the horse noted.
Paws full of soaked cloth, Sidney glanced around for a moment to try and find a way to free up a finger to help him spread the goo from his muzzle onto the wounds; he had no options in sight. Heart beating faster, the fox realized he ended up backing himself into a corner and, taking a breath, he lowered his muzzle, and licked the wound directly. The horse started at that, turning his head to look over his shoulder, but quickly resumed his prior position, patiently letting Sidney work.
Sidney's tongue, covered in the saliva-thyme mixture, traced its way along the grooves he'd left just the day before. In the back of of his mind he cringed, thinking that he had inflicted the very wounds he was now attempting to cure... and, on top of it all, he was licking them. Despite the strong flavor of Thyme in his muzzle, it was impossible for the fox to deny the musky taste of the horse's hide... not-quite covered up with the lingering metallic tinge of blood.
The horse said something in Vensiian with a sigh, snapping the fox out of his momentary obsession. The slave leaned back against Sidney's muzzle. At first, the fox was surprised that the horse thought he wasn't being forceful enough, but he realized that his patient's words were not the same as those that had been used regarding pressure on the bandage. Once the horse let out another sigh, the fox was astounded when he figured it out; the horse was enjoying it!
Assessing the situation with clarity that surprised even him, Sidney realized that it was probably not so much the fox's tongue that the horse enjoyed, but the close contact... at least, that's what Sidney would have said about the situation. As a slave, the fox found that very little contact with others was of a positive variety. He was used to being slapped, backhanded, kicked, lashed, beaten, and (on more than one occasion), bitten. Sidney could only imagine how long it must have been since the horse had someone provide a gentle touch or, in the current case, a soft lick.
The horse said something in Vensiian, which made Sidney pause once he realized that his tongue had wandered to the undamaged hide at the back of the slave's neck. Clearing his throat, the fox pulled away, "Um... right." he noted, thankful at that moment that he and the horse didn't share the same language; the lapse in his attention would have been difficult to explain not to mention, he realized, the tightness in his loincloth. "Damn it, Sidney..." he murmured to himself, "at least he's not looking at you.
"Ban-duh-dige." the horse directed, causing the fox to jump at the statement.
"Right..." Sidney acknowledged, pushing past a serious blush in his ears as he picked up one of several poultices from the bowl. "And it's bandage... ban-dij... bandage."
"Ban-dij." the horse repeated as the fox began to spread the damp cloth over the horse's injuries.
"Right. Bandage." Sidney confirmed, placing another.
"Thenk yoo... ban-dih." the horse stated.
"You're welcome." the fox noted, smiling to himself; the horse was a fast learner... surprising compared to the muscle heads he'd heard about in the gladiator area. The small slave master pushed his mind back on the subject at paw, and he finished securing the poultices in place. "I need the dry bandages now..." Sidney noted, pointing past the horse's shoulder toward the clean linen strips.
"Dri ban-dij." the horse repeated, leaning foward and grabbing an enormous handful of the bandages. He held them over his shoulder, almost shoving them in Sidney's face before the fox took hold of them.
"Dry... right." he noted, taking hold of a double-pawful of them before setting them off to the side. "Dry is... um..." Sidney flicked an ear, "the opposite of wet." he made a face at his own stupid explanation.
"ah-po-sit.... wet." the horse sounded as the fox began securing small strips to the poultices.
"Um..." Sidney noted, organizing the bandages as he started winding the longest strip around the horse's shoulder and under the large slave's armpit, pausing at the discernable horse scent, "yea..." he breathed... and, once the bandage was secure, walked around to the side of the slave. "Dry..." he held up what remained of the unmedicated linen, and he brushed them across the horse's hand, "and wet..." he dipped his own paw into what remained of the herbal water and flicked his fingers around.
The horse's ears went up in recognition, "Dry..." he held up a pawful of hay... and then dunked it into the bowl, and brought it back out, dripping, "wet."
"Very good!" Sidney acknowledged, wincing when he realized his tail was wagging, "Maybe I'm not so horrible at this after all." and he decided then and there to see just how well he could get the slave to understand. "My name," he placed a paw on his chest, "is Sidney... Cid-nee... and you?" he motioned to the horse.
The horse dropped the hay, and stuck a thick thumb back into his own chest. "Maern." the horse announced... then paused, and poked his broad index finger at Sidney, "Cid-nee?"
"Good!" the fox announced, tail swaying back and forth at a faster pace.
"Except," Sidney heard Lord Hector's unmistakable voice speak up from the doorway, "as his Slave Master, he is to address you as 'Sir'." the stag took two steps forward, bringing him into the work shed, "Did you forget that, Sidney?"
The fox dropped to the ground, falling to his knees and lowering his head to the floor, "You are correct as always, Master, and I am wrong." his tail stopped wagging, "Please forgive me."
Lord Hector did not reply to Sidney, rather, he began speaking immediately to Maern who, to the fox's chagrin, did not bother prostrating himself before the stag. Sidney was conflicted about speaking up to correct the horse's behavior and not interrupting Lord Hector; in the end he settled on the second option and kept his muzzle shut as the horse continued to stare right back at the stag; it was a grevious oversight that could be punished with a flogging.
As their discussion continued, with Lord Hector doing most of the talking, Sidney occasionally caught one or two words spoken in Prossian... usually spoken slowly; the fox assumed that the stag was providing him basic translations, especially when he heard the word 'sir', and his sensitive ears caught the sound of Lord Hector's tunic crumple when his master pointed to the still groveling fox. He also heard the word 'master', the stag's proper title 'Lord Hector', and the word 'slave'. It was the last word that sparked the most conversation.
After nearly five minutes, their talk came to a close; Sidney didn't mind waiting... he was used to being excluded from conversations involving anyone that wasn't him. What DID bother him was that, during the talk, the horse never once looked away from the stag. Toward the end of the discussion Sidney was almost grinding his teeth with the sheer wrongness of Maern's actions. He still couldn't help but shy away, however, when the horse's piercing blue eyed gaze turned to him.
"Sir." the horse, answering what was apparently one of Lord Hector's questions. The stag answered back with what sounded like an affirmative acknowledgement, and then spoke something else. "Mass-tur..." the slave sounded out, and added, "Lord-heck-ter." After a slight correction, Maern spoke again, "Lord Heck-ter." and the stag answered with that same affirmation. The two shared a moment of silence, and then Lord Hector spoke what sounded like a dismissal or a farewell... but he didn't go anywhere.
Sidney could feel his fur rising as he sensed his master's gaze upon him. "Sidney." the stag spoke, confirming the fox's suspicion.
"I am here, Master." the slave master confirmed from his spot on the ground.
"Stand up, Sidney." Lord Hector directed.
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged, standing immediately.
"You are a slave master, Sidney, and I do not want you groveling."
"Yes, Master." the fox accepted the order. He spent a moment trying to figure out how best to show complete and utter devotion if he was unable to throw himself at the stag's feet, but he wasn't given much time to think on it as Lord Hector continued.
"I am going to be moving your slave to the stables." the stag announced.
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged.
"Henceforth, you will be in charge of the eastern slave stables." Lord Hector announced, "It has not been used since I've owned my land so your first task will be to clean it."
"Yes, Master." the fox comfirmed his obedience.
"There is a central room and six slave quarters." the stag continued, "I will expect to see them spotless."
"Of course, Master." Sidney knew that his master had several stables on his estate, but he never pictured presiding over any slaves who were housed there... they were normally reserved for laborers, breeding stock, and--
"I want the stables presentable within two hours. I'll have Finneas fetch several of the house slaves to assist with the work, should you need." the display of generosity from Lord Hector almost made Sidney crumple into a melting pile of overjoyed fox, but the stag's next worst chilled him to the bone, "Afterward you will have Maern fitted for a harness. Understood?"
Sidney took the inquiry as the opportunity for him to get some clarification, "What type of harness... Master?" the fox asked for clarification, his heart beating so fast he thought it was going to explode. Laborers OCCASIONALLY used harnesses... but usually when a slave owner spoke of a FITTED harness it was a--
"A Gladiator Harness, Sidney." the stag confirmed his suspicion, making the fox's stomach leap up into his throat, "Considering the way he handled himself around Wragol, I believe his skills are worthy of review. I expect you and Maern to report to the field behind the house after mid-day tea."
The words "Yes Master" had never been harder for Sidney to speak.