Slave Trade - Shadow Play
Slave Trade
Shadow Play
copyright 2013 comidacomida
Sidney sat stunned, everything around him happening at a lightning pace as he stared at the arrow shaft protruding from the carriage wall scarcely a paw's breadth from his head. The point of the arrow and about an inch and a half of its shaft had made its way through the wood still smeared with the blood of the driver it had impaled; unlike the frenzied movement of the gladiators responding to Lord Hector's orders, the single drop of blood pooling at the slightly-downward facing tip of the arrow head quivered mesmerizingly slow and then, finally... it fell.
"SIDNEY!" Lord Hector barked, drawing the shocked fox out of his mental paralysis with a shake.
"Yes, Master?" Sidney asked, eyes leaving the arrow head to glance around the interior of the carriage. He noticed immediately that Choel was missing.
The stag grabbed hold of Sidney and pulled him to the floor of the transport, and his master moved his muzzle close to the fox's ear, "Choel is going to try to stop the carriage."
Lord Hector then directed everyone to stay put, but ordered Maern and Olnyr to get the bags from atop the carraige. He covered Sidney's head along with his own as pieces of the top of the transport crumpled down onto them; Maern has thrust his arms straight through the hard wood and took possession of the large sack he had stowed on the roof. The stag motioned for the stallion to set the large sack down on the empty bench and straightened up, kneeling next to it as he unlatched the cord holding the bag closed.
"Weapons." the hart confirmed and handed Dorias a cudgel, "Here." and then passed a good sized two-bladed axe to Maern; Lord Hector would have wielded it with both hands, but the horse appeared to have little trouble with one. The stag then stood and tossed Maern's harness to Sidney, "Help him put that on."
"Yes, Master." the fox acknowledged immediately and stood on the bench next to Maern so he could more easily reach the horse's shoulders. Olnyr had somehow come into possession of his own harness, and was putting it on himself. Next to him, Lord Hector similarly readied Dorias, who spoke softly to himself. It took a few moments before Sidney, occupied with Maern, realized what Dorias was doing. "Are you praying?"
"Aye, Sir." the yak acknowledged, affixing the front of his harness to his belt as Lord Hector secured the back, "Seems as good a time as any."
"Slaves don't pray?" the fox noted, as much a question as a comment.
"Tha be 'cause most don' know 'ow, sir." Dorias clarified, and quickly finished off his mumbling with a swiftly added, "In Faith." then looked back to Sidney, "Done."
"It is alright, Sidney." Lord Hector acknowledged, giving Dorias a slap on the shoulder once he had finished with the harness, "There are no laws against Slaves praying." the stag paused at another resounding *THUNK* as another arrow protruded from the front wall of the carriage, "Besides... we have greater concerns at the moment." and Lord Hector braced himself as the transport finally started to slow in response to a firm "WOAH!".
The stag turned immediately to Maern and addressed him firmly in Vensian, then regarded Dorias, speaking in Prossian, "You will need something for a shield." No sooner had Lord Hector repeated his order to the yak that Maern had one of the carriage doors open and, with a quick twist and pull, tore it right off of the vehicle's frame, holding it close to his body, not unlike one of the wooden shields Sidney had seen the gladiators use in the arena.
"Not precisely what I had in mind..." their master mumbled to himself. He sighed when Dorias did the same on the opposite door. Lord Hector glanced quickly to Sidney as each of the gladiators stepped out of the carriage. "Stay inside." the stag ordered, "We are facing Grinders and I do not want you getting their attention."
"Yes, Master." the fox nodded. His master looked at him for a few seconds longer and Sidney couldn't help but wonder if he had somehow responded incorrectly to the order, but that moment passed as Lord Hector turned to regard one of the open doorways, "Please see that my things are protected."
Sidney swallowed the fear-induced tightness in his throat and nodded, "Yes, Master." though he didn't have the first idea of how to possibly do as he was directed.
Lord Hector then turned to Onlyr, "Come with me." and he grabbed a long bundle of something wrapped with cloth, then exited the carriage.
"Yes, Master." the bison stated gruffly, grunting as he forced his injured body out after the stag.
Scrambling amidst the rubble from the roof scattered about the floorboards, the fox grabbed a broken piece of wood and climbed up onto the bench on the opposite side of the carriage from the front wall. He maintained a grip on the make-shift club as the sounds of conflict began to rage in full force outside.
Battle continued for what felt like forever. Every time Sidney heard a cry of pain, a shout of alarm, or the gurgling, wet sound of someone submitting to their wounds the fox's fur would stand on end as he tried to catch an indication of whether or not it was one of the slaves or, worse, his master. Not long after each occurrence, however, he was always relieved to see whomever the cry sounded most like come within view through one of the broken carriage doorways. He was more than content to remain a spectator of the violence-- unfortunately, some of the assailants had other plans.
"Oi!" barked a dirty, ragged looking cattle dog, pointing right at Sidney, "Got anotha' innere!" and the bandit stalked right toward him, a nasty looking cleaver-like blade gripped in his paw, "Commere, foxeh..." the dog snarled, a line of saliva dribbling out of his muzzle, "Yeh look mighteh tasteh..." The bandit took one more step, then, in the blink of an eye, disappeared from view as an uprooted tree, thrown like a javelin, caught him in the sternum. Maern crossed into Sidney's line of sight for a brief second, offered a simple nod to the fox, and continued onward, quite likely to collect his 'throwing tree'.
The display managed to get Sidney's tail wagging... just a little. That simple expression of relief and optimism ended immediately however when a powerful grip took hold of him by the longer fur on his head, and dragged him toward the opposite door of the carriage, "Well looky what we got 'ere..." cackled the fetid breath of the fox's unseen attacker, "Bet'cha you'd be worth a pretty penny, ain't that right?"
Sidney didn't bother answering. Turning toward his assailant, a large, sweaty, dirty looking furred boar, the fox's fear granted him strength he didn't know he had, and he swung the broken board he still held with as much might as he could muster. Although the blow shattered the wood in his grasp, the strike was hard enough to knock the boar back and away from him. Sidney scrambled further away on the bench until his back struck the wooden wall of the transport and he could do little but stare down a very unhappy razorback.
"Ooh... yeer gonna regret that, yeh lil' shit." the pig growled, reaching up to wipe a trail of blood away from his porcine nose, "Think I might start eatin' yeh without killin' yeh first... make ye pay fer wrigglin."
With nowhere to go, Sidney's paws frantically scratched all over the wooden wall, unable to find anything to help until he encountered the panel that closed off the drawer that held his master's decanter and glasses. The boar came forward, licking his muzzle as he continued to salivate, his fetid breath filling the carriage with a single exhale.
"Thinkin maybe I'll start with a leg..." he grunted sadistically, and raised his hatchet.
The weapon descended with a glint of moonlight from where it flashed below the break in the roof, and Sidney's arm moved into action of its own accord. The fox had watched Maern instruct the other slaves in a maneuver he called a "kussik" Dorias had translated it to mean "stop-strike", which was different than one of the normal blocks or parries he had taught them. All these thoughts flowed through Sidney's mind as his body acted of its own record, repeating the maneuver on pure reflex.
The Grinder hog squealed in pain as the wood panel collided with the inside of his arm right in the crook of his elbow. The pig dropped the hatchet, which landed on the floor boards of the carriage. Quickly realizing what he had just done, Sidney drew the wooden board in a sideways swipe across the boar's face, creating a resounding -CRACK- as it struck one of his tusks. Without pausing, the fox, in a frenzy fueled by fear, quickly swung the board back the other direction, smacking it backhand across the other side of his assailant's muzzle, and the pig grunted, dropping onto the carriage's bench by Sidney's feet.
Panting, the fox gazed down at the unmoving form of the hog; the man was still breathing... and that reminded Sidney to do the same. Letting out a shaky breath, the slave master slowly drew away from the wall, peering a little closer at the pig-- who lunged forward, hands open, and aiming for Sidney's neck. The fox let out a yelp. His own fingers closed around the neck of a glass bottle-- which was immediately driven into the boar's head. The hog fell sideways onto the floor of the carriage, one hand going to his head as he mumbled, "Shoulda... had...a helm..." and he collapsed, "-it."
Sidney kicked the pig once, then again, but the bandit didn't respond. Issuing another shaky breath, the fox climbed up onto the bench as far from the boar's reach as he could manage. Not only was the swine's breath unbearable, but the sheer power of the brigand's body odor brought tears to the slave master's eyes. Though Sidney had experienced far worse scents in his lifetime, the one he was made to suffer at that point more from the memory than the smell-- it was the undeniable aroma of a man who ate... people.
"Sidney!?" it was the third time Lord Hector called him, and it caused the fox to respond immediately by dropping the broken bottle he held in his paw.
"I'm sorry, Master!" Sidney responded immediately, realizing that the blow to the boar's head had shattered the container.
"Later." the stag announced plainly, but with urgency, "Come." and, with that, Lord Hector about-faced, his traveling cloak whirling around him as he moved swiftly off to the left, and out of Sidney's view. The fox quickly got to his knees and crawled his way out of the carriage, careful to avoid the prone hog.
The moment the slave master had set his feet on solid ground he was joined immediately by Dorias. The yak had several cuts on the arm that held the mace, which dripped far more blood from its flanges than his minor wounds did. The carriage door he used as a shield had several arrows sticking out of it, one of which had struck so deeply that the tip had emerged from the flesh in Dorias' forearm, nailing his appendage to the wood; the slave paid it no mind as he took up a position next to Sidney.
"We're losing?" Sidney whimpered.
"Nay, Sir." Dorias explained, "We've not lost anyone, an' they've lost maybe a dozen."
"So--" the fox ducked behind the yak as two arrows sailed at them; Dorias caught one on his shield and the other struck a tree behind them and to the right. "We're... winning?" Sidney finished.
"Nay, Sir." the slave answered, "They 'ave at least twice that many still up." Dorias turned to face a mud-covered lion charging the two of them. Before the yak could bring his mace to bear, Choel emerged from behind a berm and launched himself at the charging cat, bringing a large tree branch down on the brigand's head. "Come." Dorias directed, motioning to the side, "Maern found a place we can defend, Sir."
Moving expediently after the yak, Sidney glanced back to Choel, who had picked up the lion's sword and was falling back slowly after them, facing down three more of the attackers. Unlike the men he stood off against, it was obvious that the tiger was fatigued while they appeared fresh. He issued long, broad swipes in the air, keeping them at bay and widening the gap between the slave master and his pursuers. "Choel needs help." Sidney spoke up.
"An' 'e's gettin' it, Sir." the yak confirmed, pulling Sidney down to the ground as Lord Hector emerged from the bushes, a short bow in his grip. Following the twang of the bow, a high-pitched whistle traveled over the fox's head, and, even as Sidney turned to look at Choel, the bow sounded again. By the time the first Grinder fell the second already had an arrow in his throat, and the bow twanged again, delivering one more deadly strike to the third pursuer.
"This way." Lord Hector declared, and disappeared into the brush. The stag led them up a slight incline to where Olynr stood atop a rock overlooking a drop, a squirming hyena in his grip. As they approached, the bison straightened his arm and pushed the brigand out into empty air; the Grinder's journey back to earth was tracked by the sound of his scream until it stopped very suddenly. Sidney grimaced.
"Keep up." Lord Hector announced, sliding the bow he carried over his shoulder, "The Grinders won't be far behind." he sighed, "They knew we would be coming this way." he added, answering Sidney's unspoken question. As if granting credence to the stag's words, the fox could already hear the sound of armored men hustling somewhere behind them.
The group crested the rise, the darkness making it difficult to see with complete clarity, but Sidney's eyesight was good enough to see that there was an indent in the rocks of the rise, "A cave." the slave master announced. "We cannot outrun the Grinders on foot." Lord Hector announced firmly, climbing up the last few feet to even level with the opening "So we'll have to hold them off." and he turned back around, helping Dorias, then Sidney, then Choel up before drawing his bow once more, "We may not have an escape route, but we're safe here than next to the carriage." he glanced to Sidney, "Now go inside."
"Yes, Master." the fox acknowledged and immediate did the stag's bidding. Moving to the cave, Sidney saw Maern emerge with an enormous rock in his arms.
"Heh-lo, Sid-ney." the stallion greeted him, grunting as he set the stone down in line next to several other rocks of like size. It became readily apparent that Maern was attempting to build a wall of sorts. Having no mind for combat or strategy, Sidney just hoped it would help; based on the fact that the wall was barely as high as his knees made him doubt its usefulness.
Despite his doubt of the fortification, the fox quickly moved behind the horse when a battle cry arose from the base of the rise. At that point, the slave master realized that Maern was not building a wall-- with a series of kicks, the stallion sent the small boulders cascading down the slope. The company of Grinders quickly dove to the sides, scurrying to get out of the way of the landslide created by the tumbling boulders; not all of them escaped. Sidney didn't have the stomach to continue watching, and he found a very convenient distraction as Choel issued an "Ow."
Turning to regard the tiger, Sidney realized that the slave left a streak of red on the rock wall when he slid down to a seating position; the tip of an arrow was sticking out from his shoulder just below the collar bone, "Lash me!" Sidney gasped, kneeling down next to the prone tiger immediately.
"Ungh..." Choel gritted his teeth as Sidney inspected him, "Don't worry... it hurts worse than it looks."
The fox paid no mind to the humor, trying to gauge what damage the arrow had done. Choel's breath was ragged but not frothy; the arrow's shaft kept the bleeding to a minimum; the tiger appeared to have use of his arm-- and Sidney slowly released a breath when he realized that the shot had not struck anything vital. "You'll be okay if we can get you to a healer." the fox attempted to reassure him.
"No problem finding one in the middle of nowhere." the tiger offered, his accompanying shrug obviously bringing him some discomfort.
"Just rest here." Sidney directed.
"You gonna do the fighting instead?" Choel inquired, holding up his pilfered sword, handle toward the fox. The slave master looked down at the blade for several seconds, "If I have to." and he accepted the weapon.
"Lord Hector Desanti!" came a hail from the base of the rise. It was a female voice, and she was demanding in her call, "Come out!"
All of the slaves turned to glance at the stag. "Stay here." Lord Hector spoke, and he moved to the opening, but remained against the rock, raising his voice to respond, "Would it be rude to decline on account of a desire to avoid presenting a target?"
"No harm will come to you, but only if you come out now!" the woman barked out the words, "You have my word!" Lord Hector chuckled, "Forgive me for doubting your word!"
"Hand over the bison, and then give up the rest of your slaves!" the woman shouted, "And the Grinders will overlook your little 'game'!" despite the grunts and grumbles from below, she added, "They have no interest in killing a Lord."
"We left so quickly..." Choel shook his head, "How could they have caught up?"
"Ye mean, 'ow could they'a gotten ahead o'us an' set an ambush?" Dorias corrected.
"Either way." the tiger shrugged, and winced at the arrow still sticking out of his body, "Why is it always my shoulder?"
"Because there is more to this than meets the eye." Lord Hector spoke to his slaves, then turned back to the opening, shouting, "I have never met a Grinder from Pross, Miss."
"I never claimed to be a Grinder, Lord Hector." the female countered.
The stag looked back to his slaves, "Stay here." he ordered, and slowly moved into the open, bow still in his hand with an arrow knocked, but he didn't draw it back. Raising his voice, the stag called, "You know me... I am afraid I am at a loss, as I do not know--" and his words slowly fell off into a murmur, "Lady Fody?!?" he demanded.
"It is so wonderful to meet you out of court, Lord Hector!" the call was full of sardonic mirth, "I must say, I prefer this side of you to the one trying to stumble his way through all of the politics."
"And I would have to say I prefer the political side of you to this one, my Lady Fody." the stag responded candidly, leaning against the stones at the entrance to the cave.
"Ah... but this is just another side of the politics, dear Lord Hector... now, would you care to come down so we can discuss the terms of your surrender? Once you surrender your slaves, I can guarantee that you will be brought safely back to your--"
"I'm afraid you're mistaken, Lady Fody... I will not be surrendering." Lord Hector called back. Sidney's heart swelled with reverence for his noble and courageous master even though, at the same time, he wondered how much longer they would all be alive.
"It is not my place to order you around, Lord Hector..." Lady Fody's words said one thing but, to Sidney, her tone suggested otherwise, "but if you will not accept my protection then I'm afraid I am short on time and must return to my estate... which means there will be no one to hold the Grinders in check."
"Considering they toe the line of illegal activity," the stag noted casually, "it is a most curious situation that you should have any clout with them at all." Whatever Lady Fody said from below was in too quiet a voice to comprehend, but Sidney didn't like her tone. Lord Hector quickly altered his leaning position on the stone, rotating his body to duck behind it instead as arrows began to scour the entrance to the cave.
"Goodbye, Lord Hector..." Lady Fody called from below, "There were occasions when I found you entertaining."
The stag looked to Maern and gave him orders in Vensian, then looked to Olnyr, "This is Lord Levid's doing, is it not?" The bison grunted in affirmation. "Will you follow your Slave Master's orders or do you want the Grinders to finish the job they started?" he inquired simply of the slave.
"I'll fight." Olnyr confirmed, then turned to Sidney, "Slave Master." and he nodded his head to the fox.
"For now," Lord Hector called the bison's attention back to him, "you listen to me." and he spouted out directions so fast that Sidney's head was spinning, but Olnyr seemed able to translate all of the combat-speak without problem, and went to join Maern by the front of the cave. The two of them took turns hiding behind cover then emerging to throw rocks down at the brigands below. Sidney didn't know if they had any effect, but he remained on edge every time they ducked down just in time to avoid being shot by arrows.
"Dorias, can you still fight?" Lord Hector had moved over to the yak, who was flexing his arm, after removing the arrow from it. Blood had stained the door-shield he had been using, but a bandaged he had fashioned appeared to have stopped the bleeding, "Aye, Master." the slave acknowledged, grabbing his mace and the carriage door before getting to his feet.
"When I give the word, I need you to join Maern. I'll be using my bow to try and pick off their archers. I need you to keep your shield high to protect us from arrows while Olnyr covers the ascent."
"Aye, Lord 'ector." the yak nodded, and moved toward the opening looking out on Grinders.
The four maintained their position at the mouth of the cave for several minutes, the difference in altitude working to their advantage, as most of the arrows were deflected by the surrounding stone, and those few that were on target were wasted on the wooden shields. Just as Sidney was wondering how much longer the fight would go on, a new sound arose from below: a lack of bows and an influx of melee combat.
Although Lord Hector and the slaves at the front of the cave were able to make sense of the confusing sounds below, Sidney had no understanding of what was happening. The stag held up a hand and Olnyr ceased raining stones down on those below, "It appears that today is a bad day to be a Grinder."
The sound of combat lasted for only another minute or two before all fell quiet, except for a new hail from below in the form of a crystal clear, mid-toned, male voice calling out with the smoothness of silk, "Hail, Lord Hector... tis quite a coincidence running into you at this hour... and keeping the company of Grinders, no less!"
"Lord Talvin!" Lord Hector called back, raising an arm, "I would normally pass up an invitation to join a Grinder party, but they were quite insistent!" That was an end to the talking but, moments later, Sidney heard a climber approaching the lip of the cave. The stag knelt down and helped a well-dressed wolf up onto the ledge to join them. Lord Talvin looked the same as he had at the dinner party, though his clothing was of a more rugged nature, better suited to travel. The wolf gazed about the interior of the cave before nodding, "I take it you did not consider having a fall-back plan."
"You were a little later than expected." Lord Hector announced, and the two clasped wrists.
The lupine Lord followed it up by pulling the stag in for a hug, "You'll have to forgive me, my friend... Lord Levid was very unwilling to let me leave the gala this evening."
"I suppose he had a thought that we suspected something and that you would try coming to my rescue." the hart smirked, but the smile faded, "It is worse than we suspected, sadly... Lady Fody had been riding with the Grinders."
"Hmm." the wolf nodded in thought; Sidney didn't miss the way that Lord Talvin looked at the stag and wondered for a moment if he was as obvious in his adoration as the wolf, "I had suspected, but I was not certain." and the wolf's eyes slowly migrated to looking right at Sidney; the fox looked away immediately, "Ah... and here we have Sidney, the prized slave master that everyone is talking about."
"Are they now?" Lord Hector inquired, letting the subject be changed without objection, "Sidney has become a topic at court?"
"Indeed." the wolf acknowledged, striding closer to the fox. Lord Talvin stopped within arm's reach and gazed straight at Sidney, who looked down at the wolf's boots, "They are calling him Bane."
"Bane?" the stag sounded almost bemused.
"It is no secret in the court that Sidney here spent time with the Champion on his final night as Champion..." the tip of the wolf's tail flickered back and forth with humor, "Rumors are starting to arise that suggest that he convinced him to lose."
"Sidney?" Lord Hector inquired.
"Yes, Master?" the fox stood immediately at attention.
"Did you convince Olnyr to lose on purpose in exchange for your favor?" the stag spoke the question with a smirk.
"No, Master." Sidney was immediately aghast at the suggestion.
"You see?" Lord Hector returned his attention to Lord Talvin, despite the wolf's attention still being on Sidney, "My Slave Master is noble and honorable in his pit dealings."
"Indeed..." the lord began slowly circling Sidney, looking him up and down as if he were up for auction; it left the fox feeling incredibly self conscious, "...though that reassurance will hardly waylay the rumors of court."
"Then I assume they will continue to circulate." Lord Hector flicked an ear, crossing his arms over his chest.
"And to find the defeated Champion now among your slaves?" Lord Talvin stopped behind Sidney, resting a paw on either of the fox's shoulders, "The scandal will be immeasurable, to be sure." and the slave master felt the wolf's sweet breath against the back of one of his ears, "Oh, what the court will think..." he whispered.
"Lord Levid will lose a LOT of face." the stag acknowledged.
"Enough to have every last one of a certain stag's slaves put down." the wolf acknowledged, moving away from Sidney immediately, but not without sliding his tail along the fox's thigh as he did so... and, for the second time that night, he changed the discussion's direction again without any indication of a warning, "When are you going to take me up on my generous offer, my sweet stag?"
Sidney did not miss the way his master's ears reddened slightly, but Lord Hector showed no other signs as to what the wolf suggested, "As flattered as I am, Lord Talvin, we have discussed this before, and I do not feel it needs repeating."
"Ah yes." the wolf nodded casually, "And the handsome, sublime, well-regarded Lord who still has no wife and no affable prospect continues to stick by his story that he would not enjoy such an arrangement." Lord Talvin turned to regard the stag more fully, "The thought that you employ what I can only imagine to be the finest skills of such a perfect little fox intrigues me all the more, Hector." and he glanced to Sidney with a wink, "Which brings us back to those nasty rumors about Bane... that he may be so incredibly talented indeed that Lord Hector prefers his company to that of anyone or anything else."
"I suppose the court may never know." Lord Hector's face had lost most of its smile.
"Ah... but I digress." the wolf announced with a faint, apologetic bow of his head, "My apologies for offending you my friend... often I push the limits far too drastically when I desire something as much as I desire your..." he glanced around at the slaves in the cave before his eyes returned to the stag, "...company."
"I thank you for your aid, Lord Talvin." Lord Hector inclined his own head, "You are a true friend, and I accept your apology."
"I shall continue to be your friend, I am sure, and you need only ask for my aid, Hector." the wolf offered a much more formal bow at that, "And now, I bid you a good night. You can find your way back to your carriage, I trust?"
"Indeed." the stag acknowledged, "Thank you."
Lord Talvin about-faced and strode out of the cave but had taken only three steps before he paused, "Oh... and about it being worse than we feared-- the Grinders were mounted.... with steeds from the royal stables."
"I had suspected as much." Lord Hector nodded to himself, looking at the far wall of the cave rather than at the wolf, "Thank you again."
"Do be careful, Hector..." Lord Talvin's voice took a much less formal tone as added, "this is a dangerous game you play."
A smile slowly graced the stag's face, and he glanced to Sidney for a moment, suddenly making Sidney feel that he would not like the sudden inspiration that struck his master. Lord Hector then turned to look at the wolf, "No worries, my friend... in case you had forgotten, I have Bane at my side."
"Mm..." acknowledged Lord Talvin with a casual nod, "...lucky Bane."