Crimson 2
Noah woke with a pounding head and an aching body that he knew was not in such a state because of the ales he'd had last night. He found his arms unmoving when he tried to rub at his eyes and his legs much in the same condition when he wanted to turn onto his back. He was almost afraid to open his eyes, but knew the situation would not change just because he didn't want to acknowledge it.
At first he couldn't understand what it was he saw but as the world stopped spinning a little and his eyes adjusted to the dusky surroundings, he realized he was in the back of a covered wagon and that he was not alone. Three more bodies lay next to him, arms bound behind their backs and one was even gagged, and he saw over the top of the shoulder next to him that one of them lacked his clothing. Noah at least still had his breeches and shirt, if not his tunic, cloak and boots. He tried to raise his head, but the muscles in his neck complained too forcefully and he let his head drop back down with a muted thump, swallowing down the bile that rose in his throat. He hoped he didn't have a concussion.
This was not a good situation, Noah knew with certainty. He was bound to hands and feet with tough leather cords, in a physically weak state and without his knife he couldn't cut himself free. He'd been attacked last night by what he had presumed to be robbers, thinking he'd only loose his coins and boots. But now he found himself in the back of a wagon, robbed of both his possessions and his freedom, most likely not in Threetown any longer and heading to the goddess knew where. Zsien would be so angry with him for being so clumsy, he knew, and that made him groan in dismay, he did not look forward to that.
There was a soft rustling as one of the bodies next to him moved and a face turned halfway to look at him. It was a dark face, Noah realized, not just because of the poor light but because off the dusky hue to the boy's skin. A dark brown gaze searched Noah's face and settled on his eyes with what looked like sympathy.
"Not a very pleasant situation, I take it," Noah murmured and the boy blinked blankly. "You don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?" Another puzzled look and a slight tilting of the black-haired head told him that was the case. The boy came from overseas, then, where they were black haired and dark skinned and spoke a lilting language that was far too complicated for anyone but the scholars to learn.
Noah sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't make his throbbing head work properly to even begin contemplating a way out of this. He didn't even know where he was, how far they had taken him in the hours between the attack in Threetown and now, and before he could see the landscape where they currently were, he wouldn't know which way to head even if he got free. He wondered idly if Zsien was looking for him, or if he had even noticed Noah was gone.
He didn't know for how long he lay there, floating somewhere between slumber and awareness, tired and hurting enough to want to sleep but too apprehensive to let the body fall into oblivion. He came to when he heard voices and movements outside. The men around him heard it too and they all stirred anxiously. The naked youth nearest the flap did his best to squirm backwards away from the opening and came up short against the blond man behind him. Then they all froze in tense apprehension for what would come next. Noah could almost hear the others' frantic heartbeats and got increasingly worried himself.
They didn't have to wait long; the flap was pushed aside to reveal a bright morning and a lush forest. Noah glimpsed a few horses over by the trees before two large bodies filled the opening. A ripple of fear went through the captives and the young man in the front cried out when he was roughly grabbed by his thin shoulders and pulled out of the wagon by the first man, and after him the older, blond and gagged man behind him was hauled out much in the same pitiless manner.
Noah lifted his head to see what was going to happen to them, but the opening was once again filed by a body. A bearded face peered in and then the man clucked his tongue a few times at the dark skinned boy, as he held out a hand to him as if in invitation. Noah frowned incredulous; did the man really think such a sound – or the dirty, callused hand – could calm and lure the foreign boy?
"He's not an animal!" Noah snapped before he could stop himself.
The man raised his eyes across the boy and saw Noah's angry expression. "Ain't he, now?" he chuckled and waggled his fingers to the boy, who after a soft sigh and an almost pitying glance at Noah, squirmed to get within reach of the man and be pulled out of the wagon. Noah stared at the scene in stunned disbelief.
The flap fell back in place and Noah was alone. He could hear their voices through the canvas, but they were moving away. Noah squirmed to get closer to the flap and peer out through the narrow slit, but with both arms and legs tied, he couldn't move without making too much noise, and he didn't want to draw the men's attention back to him. He felt it would be rather unpleasant when he did.
A burst of hoarse laughter broke the near silence outside and then a whimpering cry of someone in pain. Noah cursed under his breath and made another try to get to the flap. Heavy bodies moved outside, quick footsteps and then a loud, foul curse. Something hit the side of the wagon with a fleshy thump, making it tremble and protest, and a clipped cry reached Noah's ears. And then nothing more.
The men's voices were just outside now, but too low for Noah to hear the words. Though it sounded like two of them were arguing, rather vehemently, and the words "my pet" and a string of curses were soon cut short by a third sharp voice that brooked no argument from the first two.
Noah listened intently for the men's voices but they were muffled and moving away again. He wondered anxiously what had happened and if the same fate would befall him. Who were these men and what were their intentions? For a moment Noah wondered if they were bounty hunters who had finally caught up with him, he had always known he wouldn't be able to hide for ever, but this was too soon. He pulled a breath when his chest tightened and pushed the unpleasant thoughts away with an effort.
No, he told himself. They couldn't be bounty hunters, not with all the other captives and all of them still alive. Like Noah, the other three men seemed to be in fine condition, except perhaps the blond youth without clothes. But the captives were all scared and although the situation certainly warranted it, Noah couldn't figure out what made it so.
The flap was suddenly yanked aside and the bearded man stared down at Noah. With a sneer he wrapped his meaty fist around Noah's upper arm and pulled him upright. Noah had to struggle to keep up with the man when he was hauled outside. He blinked a few times when the bright morning light hurt his eyes, making his head pound even worse, and fought to stay upright when his numb, bound feet were unable to take his weight. Ungracefully he leaned against the man's grip on his arm and took the opportunity to look around.
The blond man and the dark-skinned boy were kneeling on the ground by a tree, their back-tied wrists attached to a thick rope looping around the trunk. The blond man was staring at something by the wagon with wide eyes while the boy seemed much calmer, his dark gaze moved over the camp in slow sweeps and briefly meeting Noah's, only to turn back to what the other captive was staring at.
Noah looked over his shoulder and saw the lifeless body of the naked youth, slumped under the undercarriage of the wagon. He glimpsed blood seeping from a cut across the pale temple and a bruise was darkening over a cheekbone.
Who were these men to treat someone like that? What was going to happen to them all?
Noah was jerked out of his stare when the fist on his arm tugged him along. But not over to the tree where the other two captives were, but across the small camp and up to a dead log resting its one end against a slab of rock. On it a man was sitting, one of his boots braced against the log and a large knife resting across his thigh.
Noah stared more at the weapon than the man, almost feeling like hypnotized by the steel glinting in the light. He was thrown down on the ground and he coughed when air was knocked out of his lungs. He twisted anxiously to keep his eyes on the men standing over him, but his head was jerked up by a fist in his hair and his eyes teared at the pain of loosened strands and the unnatural angle of his neck.
He felt the gazes on him, studying his face and body, lingering on his slightly slanted eyes and the outline of his bent back and legs. He gasped harshly when fingers traced his jaw and cheekbones, and shuddered when it continued down his throat.
"Yes, he seems like a fine catch," the man on the stone said in a quiet, full voice. "He will fetch a good price, I think. You did good to bring him out of Threetown, unnoticed none the less."
The man holding his head up murmured at the praise and shifted over Noah until he stood with his feet braced on either side of his prone body. "Ya wish to see the rest of ‘im?"
"Indeed, I think I do." The man's voice was still as quiet but now it held a hint of heat that worried Noah.
Noah was pushed face down on the ground, and he panicked and began to struggle when he got a mouthful of dirt instead of air. A hand wrapped around his neck, holding him in place, and then the sharp edge of a knife sliced through his shirt, cutting it from the collar to the hem in one intent cloth-ripping move. He tried to kick at the man looming over him, but his bound feet did no good.
Then he froze in trepidation when he felt the cool edge of the knife tease at the waist of his breeches. His breath hitched when a tug told him they were cutting the garments off him and he moaned in fear. What were they doing? This couldn't be happening.
The shill morning air swept across his exposed backside and he squirmed into the ground to try and hide. It was no use, the ruthless grip on his neck held him fast. Then he was yanked up and spun around only to be held down again. He had thought being face down in the dirt was bad, but staring up into the faces of his assailants was so much worse. He saw the intention in their eyes, the grim lines of their mouths and their hands yanking on his torn clothes.
Noah began to struggle anew, twisting against the hold and growling at them, no heed for his injuries or what could be done to him. He would not let these men get the better of him if he could do anything about it. He pulled his bound legs up and kicked out for all his worth at the man standing above him. His aim wasn't the best, his bare feet hitting the man across the inside of his knee, but sliding off from the bad angle. The man cursed and stumbled a step backwards before he found his balance.
All it gave Noah, other than the brief moment free of the offensive hands, was a vicious, backhanded slap across his face and a savage yank on his hair. He fought against the tears and was barely aware of being lifted off the ground until he was pushed down over the fallen tree. The bark scraped his naked skin and the air left his lungs when a heavy weight settled over him.
"Stop fightin', you little twit," the bearded man hissed and held him fast against the log with a muscled arm pressed across his shoulders.
"Now, let's see if he is untouched," he heard the other man's quiet voice from beside him, still sitting on the rock. He tried to turn his head as much as he could and saw a glint of excitement in the man's eyes. It worried him to no ends.
His hips were pulled up and his thighs spread by two boots. He didn't know he was holding his breath until his buttocks was grasped and parted by a callused hand, and he gasped startled.
"No!" he whimpered and twisted against the hold.
The man on the rock moved fast. One second he was sitting still and in the next he was pressing the sharp edge of his knife against Noah's throat. Noah stared at the calm face so close to his and he tried not to flinch at the smile he received.
"Now, stay still so we can evaluate you and set a decent prize."
Noah shuddered at the faint smell of smoke and some chewing tobacco on the man's breath.
The bearded man behind him continued in his examination and Noah tensed as he felt fingers fondling his sac and flaccid penis. They trailed briefly through the hairs around the base and then followed the dip between his legs past his sac, fear and the cool morning breeze making his genitals try to crawl into his body. He screwed his eyes shut as he felt a finger circling his anus.
He couldn't stop the scream of panic and fear that forced its way up his throat at the painful invasion. The rough finger twisted around inside his body, and he whimpered and tried to jerk his hands free of their bonds. Salty tears ran down his cheeks and he gritted his teeth together around a sob.
"Tight," the man behind him muttered, seemingly pleased. "Virginal, I'd say."
"He will fetch a double price then," the man with the knife to his throat said calmly as his eyes slid approvingly over Noah's body. "See to it that he stays untouched."
Noah couldn't see the man behind him, but he heard the grin in his voice when he chuckled deeply. "Too bad, he'd have made a nice ride, I think."
It was humiliating. Being treated like an animal, having all his traits pointed out, what would work in his favor and what would not. His foreign eyes and toned body was in his favor, as was his apparent lack of sexual experience. Working against him was his temper and lack of sociability.
"But such a pretty face will 'ave the clients waitin' in line," the bearded man added and patted Noah's hair as if he was a child.
When they released him he slid limply to the ground and curled in around himself, hunching his shoulders as far up as possible and tried to stop the trembling. They left him there for a while and even though he couldn't sense them even keeping an eye on him, he was too badly shaken up to even contemplate getting up.
He lay staring at nothing for an undefined period of time, concentrating only on breathing. One of the horses across the clearing stomped its hoof and snorted, and Noah blinked when the sound startled him back to reality. He saw his torn shirt and breeches lying in a heap not far away, and desperately wanted to reach out a hand and pull them to him.
He struggled to sit up and carefully glanced around him. The blond youth still lay slumped under the wagon and the two other captives were still by the tree, carefully not looking at Noah, and he felt a blush of shame across his cheeks. He looked over at his clothes again, wishing he could put them on, but they would not do to conceal his body; they were too badly ruined and he pulled a trembling breath at the thought of having to walk around naked among these men.
Heavy boots walked across the camp and stopped close to Noah. With a twitch he huddled in around himself, an unconscious act to save himself more hurt.
"There, there," the voice was oddly soothing and Noah dared to look up at the man. His two knives were back in his belt but the gaze that slid over Noah's body was just as hard and disconcerting. The man squatted down in front of him and a hand reached out towards him. He tried to push out of reach but the man was faster. His head was pulled forward by the leather string around his neck and he could only watch as the man calmly studied the silver ring.
Heavy lidded eyes shifted for a moment to Noah and he wanted to shrink away under the gaze. Then the man shouted over his shoulder. "Hey, Bern, what do you make of this?"
The bearded man – apparently named Bern – came over to them from where he had been starting a small fire and bent forward to look closely at the ring. "Seems to be of silver. Could be worth something'."
"Then take it," the man holding Noah's ring said and cut the string loose with one of his knives. "Do as you wish with it, this one won't need it any longer."
Bern closed his dirty, meaty fist around Noah's ring with a grin on his face. After looking more closely at the trinket – obviously finding it to his satisfaction, judging by the grin on his face – he turned and went back to their third companion who was leaning over the blond by the wagon. The young man seemed to be stirring and the two of them dragged him over to the tree to add him to the other captives.
Noah's attention was caught fully by the man in front of him and the piece of cloth that was held out for him to see.
Noah stared suspiciously at it.
"This is instead of your clothes," the man said patiently. "I suppose they will not be adequate now?"
When Noah didn't answer the man sighed and reached to pull him to his feet. Noah stiffened and readied himself for a fight. But nothing happened. Noah stood on trembling legs and wobbly feet as the man stepped around him, wrapping the cloth around Noah's waist with remarkably sure and gentle hands. Noah shivered as the callused fingers brushed over his bare hip and the man chuckled.
"Ah, responsive, aren't you?" His full voice came close to Noah's ear and he jerked his shoulder up to shield himself. He could hear the grin in his voice when he said, "Wonder just how responsive you'd be in the sack." And then his hand was between Noah's legs, sliding much too slowly and intimately past his genitals for comfort, even though it was disguised as a gesture to thread the cloth between his legs.
"No!" he cried out and twisted around, hunching over to avoid the hands and managing by some lucky shot to hit the man across his stomach with his bound fists. But that was the extent of his struggle; the move caused him to lose his balance and he fell backwards to the ground. The air was knocked out of him again and he had hardly a moment to regain it before the man was atop him, striking him hard across the mouth with a tightly closed fist. Noah saw starts, and fighting for breath when the heavy weigh across his chest moved to punch him in the stomach, was a lost cause.
"Do that again and I'll cut out your tongue for your impudence," he growled.
Noah hardly heard him for the rush of blood in his ears, his stomach cramped up and he turned his face desperately to vomit what little was in his stomach from the night before. The man swore disgustedly under his breath and pushed himself to his feet, wiping his hands on his trousers as if he had been dirtied. He shouted for something, but Noah couldn't care less, he rolled onto his side and fought to regain his senses.
Finally his body stopped cramping and he felt hands on him; someone securing the cloth around his waist and between his legs, someone else wiping down his face with a rough cloth, hardly making the mess any better. Then he was hauled to his feet and dragged over to the other two prisoners by the tree. They dumped him carelessly next to the dark-skinned boy and tied him to the rope circling the tree. A harsh yank on his bound hands to make sure he was secure – as if he could have run anywhere in his present state – and then they left him alone.
Noah squinted around feebly and saw the foreign boy looking at him from close by. There was still pity in his eyes but also a warning. Noah had no way of telling him it didn't matter any more before pain took him to a dark place.
* * * * * * * *
Zsien scowled and shoved the man away, not staying to see the short, burly boatman stumble and fall on his ass. This was not going well. He had already roughed up two men and their friends when they took offense at his questions, one of them suffered a wound by his dagger before the others stepped away.
And now rumor of his inquiring was circling about, preceding him and making it thrice as difficult to find the answers he needed. Zsien straightened his coat with a vicious yank and stalked back to where his horse was waiting. The white mare pricked her ears at his approach and danced a few graceful steps when she sensed his anger. He calmed her – and himself – with a slow, steady stroke down her misty neck.
He stood for a moment, contemplating his next move and cursing the dockhands and their closed jaws. He needed to find the men that the innkeeper feared and the barmaid had told him about. But nowhere could he get the names he needed or even a description of the flag for the Guinwaran ship. Once again he cursed his own lack of knowledge of this world.
He swung in the saddle with a graceful movement and steered away from the docks, heading back into the bustling streets of Threetown. He didn't know where else he could turn. The city guard would probably close down the harbor until they found the ship that supplied the slavers, though if they would find any answers he couldn't know. Surely the attention of Fioran authorities would only make the slave traders burrow into their hideouts and wait it all out. Then they would resume their business when all had calmed down again. And by then it would surely be too late to save Noah, all traces carefully wiped out by his abductors or by the careless fumbling of bureaucratic idiots. Zsien snorted loudly in disgust.
And this was a matter of pride. No one took what belonged to Zsien d'Ethai without paying for it in due fee.
He didn't much care where he rode, just as long as the folk in the street kept out of his way, and the steady trot of the mare under him helped to settle his dark thoughts.
He blinked and looked around him when he heard the voices of the merchants holler out their prices, and realized he was at the market square in Hills Hamlet. He slowed to a walk and looked around; searching for an old face he knew would be there.
Zsien pulled his horse to a halt before the old woman. She tilted her head at the sound of hooves stopping near her and her blind, milky eyes trailed from left to right, passing over Zsien.
"Who is there?" she asked cautiously, one of her gnarly hands patting the cloth laid out in front of her legs to grab the small wooden bowl with coins, the other gripping the dagger in her belt.
Zsien snorted at her efforts and dismounted. Not until he stepped closer did Maggie raise her head and look directly at him – or as directly as her unseeing eyes would allow, she was slightly off to the left, but it was still unnervingly accurate.
"Didn't I tell you not to come back here?" she asked in a suddenly angry tone. "I told you not to bother me again, you kin of evil." Her hand tightened around her dagger and her bowl was tucked securely under her skirts.
Zsien made sure to keep out of her reach when he squatted down in front of her cloth. "I do not heed a blind, old woman, Maggie," he uttered her name sweetly and smiled at her eyes widening in shock.
"I will have you gone from this town and gone from Noah." She stabbed a stubby finger at him. "Why do you trouble him with your presence?" she asked frustrated. Then she seemed to realize the young man in question wasn't the one who had come calling her and she stiffened where she sat. "Where is he? Where is Noah?" she whispered and the lines around her eyes deepened.
Zsien studied Maggie's wrinkled face when worry made her lips part and her eyebrows come together. "He is not with me, old woman," he said quietly, reining in the anger he felt at his failure to find his companion.
"Not with you?" She tilted her head again. "Has he finally gotten rid of you then?"
Zsien snorted sharply enough to startle her and she gave him an indignant look. "He will not be rid of me so easily, woman, so quit your squabbling. But he is currently lost to me."
"What do you mean?" She seemed concerned, but if it was because of the fruitless annoyance she heard in Zsien's voice or that neither of them currently knew where Noah was, Zsien couldn't tell.
"He was taken by slavers last night and I haven't seen him since," he said bluntly, taking some delight in Maggie's shocked gasp.
"No, this cannot be!" she exclaimed and Zsien glanced around to make sure no one thought he was molesting the old crone. "How could you let this happen!" she wailed and wrapped her arms around her middle as she began rocking back and forth.
"Losing your mind now won't help him, woman," he hissed and stared uneasily at her. He never could deal with this sort of hysterical behavior.
"I knew you were nothing but trouble from the moment I first saw you," she hissed and stabbed her finger at him again. "You are evil!" Her blind eyes seemed to burn with anger. Or perhaps it was madness.
"By the gods, woman, keep it down!" he demanded quietly. "I am currently the only one who can help Noah, so you getting me into trouble are not to advice."
She stopped rocking and just stared at him, making him feel uncomfortable under the scrutinizing gaze. She was blind, she couldn't see a thing, he told himself. Yet he stared back intently.
She was quiet for so long Zsien debated whether or not she would speak again and decided he was wasting time. He was about to rise and leave when Maggie mumbled under her breath and made a sign, touching her forehead and then her heart.
"What did you say?" he asked, wondering if this was a sign against evil and if it was directed at him. It most likely was.
"I do not approve of you in Noah's life. I do not approve of you coming near me or the ones I care for. But as it seems you are right when telling me you are the only one to help him, I will do what I can for Noah as well."
"And how would you do that, old woman?" Zsien nearly sneered. "You cannot see the hand under your nose, how will you help him?"
She shuddered and made that sign again, muttering under her breath. "I have a gift of farsight, but I am reluctant to use it. It pains me when I do so."
Zsien leaned closer and tried to see past the milky white in Maggie's eyes. "You are telling me you have a gift of magic?" he asked curious. He had seen so very little of magic since he got to Fior; the procession of priests on the temple grounds were not included in that, they were hypocrites of the worst kind.
Maggie nodded reluctantly. "And it seems you lure it to the fore whenever you are near me." She jerked her head up and glare at him. "You are kin of evil."
Zsien snorted, but rather with amusement. "May be, but it seems to me like my closeness to you now will aid in my finding Noah." He leaned close enough for her to feel his warm breath across her cheek as he whispered, "So get on with it. Or should I be closer than this?"
She jerked back and lashed out with her dagger, but he easily caught her old wrist and held it. "You cannot hurt me," he said in a deep voice and bared his teeth when she listened intently. "But you can hurt Noah by wasting time with you foolish squabbling."
She let out a low wail and twisted her thin wrist in his grip. Zsien didn't let go, instead he pulled her forward and spoke quietly enough so only she could hear.
"Tell me what you see, old woman. Tell me where I can find Noah."
Maggie's eyes widened and she began to rock back and forth again as much as his grip would allow. Her lips moved but no sound came out and Zsien grunted impatiently. This needed to be over with, they were beginning to draw attention and he could not afford to be delayed.
Zsien reached out his other hand and cupped it around Maggie's wrinkled cheek. She gasped at the touch and then words flowed out her mouth in a jumbled mess.
"Trees, many trees and a river of tumbling water leading south, the hull is creaking and moaning and it's so cold for my bones," she moaned.
Zsien ground his teeth together. "What about Noah. Maggie, tell me about Noah!"
"So dark where he is and painful, humiliating and harsh, no warm hands and no smiles and he feels so alone." She pulled a trembling breath. "Scared and cold and it is red in his eyes and the paint is so pretty when the light hits it in the window. The small trees are glowing in green and gold in the window. With the paint, yes so pretty if it weren't for the red in his eyes."
Zsien stared at Maggie, trying to make any sense of her words. But he was disturbed out of his thoughts by his horse snorting and stomping her hoof. He let go of Maggie's wrist and slowly rose to his feet. He couldn't take his eyes off the rocking old woman and barely had the chance to see a fist come flying, before he had to defend himself against the frenzy of nails and blows raining down upon him.
He struggled at first, surprised at the barrage, before he caught his attacker by the wrists and managed to put a stop the fight. Then there were foul words flung at him instead, and he blinked a few times before he had the wit to actually see who his attacker was.
Zsien stared down into the face of a young woman, her brown eyes dark with fury and her mouth spitting out one ugly word after another, calling him names he couldn't have come up with even in his foulest mood. Her clenched hands trembled with rage in his fists and he made sure to have a secure grip on them.
"How dare you lay a hand on my mother, you filthy beast of a man!" the woman shouted at his face. "You should be flogged and thrown to the wolfs for molesting an old woman like that, you dirty pig of a whore's – "
"Be quiet!" he snarled at her before she could offend him worse than she already had, and she snapped her mouth shut, although she would have started snarling herself if he hadn't suddenly released her.
The young woman didn't spare him another look and hurried over to Maggie where she sat mumbling to herself, her arms wrapped around her middle. "Mother?" the young woman said gently and touched a wrinkled cheek. The old woman didn't seem to notice anything.
Zsien shook his head and glanced around, the people in the market were looking at him, more closely than he thought comfortable and he decided a retreat was wise. Maggie showed no sign of noticing him when he turned to mount up, but as he gathered the reins she suddenly raised her head and looked straight at him.
"Bring him back," she begged him in a weak voice.
Zsien met her gaze, milky white, and nodded. He could do little else whit his throat tied in a knot, and then urged his horse into a trot down the nearest street.
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