Chapter 64

Year 163 – Fall – Sextus Mensis – 8th day

City of Tijara, southeast of the free land.

Hugging the coastline for seven miles, the city didn’t have a town hall. It was a conglomerate of many independent traders. Except for a few decades of fortified domains furrowing the coastline, the city didn’t have its own wall.

It didn’t have its own guard either, yet the hundreds of mercenaries and sellswords seeking work were ensuring peace within Tijara.

The misty wind of the sea was covering the air. Barely 10 years after the war, the only scar left was a large cemetery delimiting the many roads leading to the city. It was a normal day for Tijara. Traders and travellers from across the sea were flowing into the coastal city. Caravans and ships were serving as houses in the harbour, and improvised infrastructure had been set up all around the vast area.

As Alphael entered the town, he looked at seven armed folks who were smoking tobacco under the sunlight.

Alphael – “Hey! You! Do you want some cheap silver shells?”

One turned around and knocked one of his companions on the shoulder. The one who seemed in charge raised himself and looked at Alphael.

The Sellsword – “What do you want?”

Alphael – “I need an area near the port to sell my slaves. If you and your companions clear the way for me and my goods, I’ll give you 400 shells.”

The Sellsword – “We can do it for a thousand shells.”

Alphael – “No, that’s too high. It will take you an hour or maybe two.”

The Sellsword – “Ask someone else then.”

Alphael – “How about 500 shells?”

The Sellsword – “Eight hundred shells!”

Alphael – “Six hundred shells. It’s my last offer.”

The Sellsword – “Deal! Follow us.”

Sellsword 1 – “MOVE ASIDE!”

Sellsword 2 – “YOU, GET TO THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. CLEAR THE PATH!”

The resident – “What’s the matter?”

Sellsword 2 – “A LARGE CARAVAN IS PASSING THROUGH! MOVE ASIDE!”

A moment later, they arrived at a large area near the sea. From there, the harbour extended as far as the eye could see.

During their journey, Alphael hired two more groups of mercenaries to help ensure the protection of his merchandise. Arriving there, Alphael’s guard separated the slaves into two groups, girls and men, before using a few large nails to lock the many ropes to the ground.

The slaves were exhausted, weak, and starving to a point where the simple thought of trying to escape felt like a weight on their shoulders, and the many slaves simply sat on the ground.

Alphael interrupted a kid who was walking by.

Alphael – “Hey, you, you want some quick shells?”

The kid – “How much?”

Alphael – “Fifty shells if you bring me Silas Aygun.”

The kid – “I want half before!”

Alphael looked at another civilian walking.

Alphael – “Hey, you! You want 50 shells?”

The kid – “Wait! I’ll do it!”

Alphael – “Bring me Silas Aygun and tell him Alphael has brought some new product.”

The kid ran toward one of the enclosed mansions and came back a quarter-hour later, followed by Silas and a few of his guards. Alphael then threw a purse of shells to the kid before looking at Silas.

Silas Aygun – “Alphael! It’s been a while! How are you doing, my friend?”

Alphael – “As good as ever! I have a few more products for you!”

Silas Aygun – “I’m glad to hear it, but, you see, among the last slaves I bought from you, two died. You brought them in such a poor condition that I had to feed them and take care of them for days before they could handle the work they were supposed to do. Look at these slaves. They look like they are about to die.”

Alphael – “My slaves are the most docile, and you know it. Some die, but they never protest!”

Silas Aygun – “They may be docile, but I want a discount or I won’t buy them in such a state.”

Alphael – “I’ll give you two for free if you buy 20 or more.”

Silas Aygun – “If I don’t buy them, you’ll lose much more by staying here for the night!”

Alphael – “What discount do you want?”

Silas Aygun – “I want them for half the price.”

Alphael – “That’s absurd. I’d lose more money than waiting for the night.”

Silas Aygun – “I could wait for more than one night.”

Alphael – “You’re not the only one who wants to buy slaves. I could sell them to the arena. Some of them used to be soldiers.”

Silas Aygun – “Hungered like they are, they’ll be worth shit. Look at them, they can barely stand, and most of them are girls who won’t pack a punch at the arena. You’d make much more by selling them across the sea.”

Alphael – “I’ll give you one-third discount if you buy exactly 30 of them and if you buy my surplus of food provisions.”

Silas Aygun – “You want to buy a ship, don’t you?”

Alphael – “I do.”

Silas Aygun – “I know someone who could give you a ride for a cheap price. You won’t have to buy then sell your ship.”

Alphael – “Who is it?”

Silas Aygun – “I want them for half the price, and I’ll buy 23 of them. As for the food, what kind are we talking?”

Alphael – “Mostly grain.”

Silas Aygun – “Then I’ll buy it at the usual price.”

Alphael – “How cheap is the ride?”

Silas Aygun – “Really cheap.”

Alphael – “Tell me the price, and if it’s as cheap as you say, I’ll give you your discount.”

Silas Aygun – “Two thousand shells for the one-way trip to the south.”

Alphael – “That’s too cheap to be real.”

Silas Aygun – “He’s a friend of mine; he’ll do it for me.”

Alphael – “You’re not talking about Velit the fisherman, are you?”

Silas Aygun – “What if I am?”

Alphael – “His ship’s not large enough to carry my slaves.”

Silas Aygun – “He’s got a new ship. It’s a small, reconditioned galley, twice as large as his old cog.”

Alphael – “And what stops me from asking him directly now?”

Silas Aygun – “It’s my galley. His last ship was getting too old, so I gave it to him in exchange for his allegiance.”

Alphael – “You’ve enslaved Velit?”

Silas Aygun – “No, I wouldn’t do that. I made him indebted to me, and now I receive half of his income while being able to order him around. If I was a noble, he would be a vassal. It’s better than a slave. Come on, I wouldn’t enslave a friend.”

Alphael – “But you’re no noble.”

Silas Aygun – “You preach on a technicality! I am ruled by no king, and I am one of the richest men in Tijara so it’s as if I were noble.”

Alphael – “Fine. I’ll give you your discount. Choose what you want! They will be 150 shells each instead of 300.”

Silas then grabbed a long wooden staff and a rope, both graded in inches. Measuring their legs, waists, shoulders, breast areas, and heights. Once he had found a girl corresponding to his condition, he looked at her face. It was decent-looking.

Silas Aygun – “Are you docile?”

The slave did not respond.

Silas struck the girl’s leg with a staff, making her fall on the ground in pain.

Silas Aygun – “I said, are you docile?”

Alphael – “She only speaks the Union’s tongue.”

Silas Aygun – “Ah.”

With a heavy guttural accent, Silas repeated.

Silas Aygun – “Are you docile?”

Pained by the strike, the slave nodded.

Silas Aygun – “I want a word. Or can you not talk?”

The slave – “YES!”

Silas Aygun – “Ask me to strike you.”

The slave – “What?”

Silas Aygun – “If you are docile, ask me to strike you.”

In fear, the slave looked at Alphael.

Silas Aygun – “Alphael, your slaves aren’t docile, you lied to me. I want a discount.”

Alphael – “No discount. You’ll choose another slave. I’ll use her as an example.”

Silas Aygun – “They’re your slaves. You do you. But I ain’t going to buy them if they aren’t docile.”

Alphael – “If the harsh journey wasn’t enough, that should do. They’ll become docile.”

Alphael walked up to the girl and grabbed her by the shoulder. He dragged her in front of the other slaves and forced her to get up on her feet. He cleared his throat a few times and looked towards the other slaves.

Alphael – “EACH OF YOU MEAT BAGS! LOOK OVER HERE!”

He pushed the girl on the ground and stepped on her back before pulling a dull knife from his scabbard.

The girl – “I’M SORRY! I’LL BE DOCILE! HIT ME! PLEASE! DON’T KILL ME! PLEASE!”

Alphael grabbed her hair and pulled her head upward while pressing his weight on her back. She was trying to catch her breath, yet the starvation had made her too weak to protest. When the dull blade reached under her throat, her tears began to flow.

Alphael – “LOOK, EACH OF YOU! AS THIS COULD BE YOUR FATE WERE YOU TO DISOBEY AN ORDER!”

He sliced her throat with the knife, but the blade wasn’t sharp enough and barely shredded her skin.

The girl – “AAAAAHHH!”

Alphael pushed the blade further in and out a dozen times, slowly cutting off her head as she screamed. When he began cutting her carotid, she choked on her own blood while looking at the other slaves. None of them could move, horrified by the sight. Ethen was filled with shame and anger, torn between his thoughts of dying while killing the dreadful man or surviving in the hope of seeing Vatra again.

Alphael was halfway done when she stopped moving. A pool of blood tainted the ground. He looked at the many slaves and continued slicing. When his blade reached her spine, he cut the flesh around it and pulled the head by the hair before breaking the neck with his foot. Alphael walked toward his own slaves, showing them the girl’s head.

Alphael – “You’re nothing more than livestock now. Your lives aren’t yours anymore. Get this in your thick skulls, or you’ll be joining her soon.”

And so, Ethen had chosen to survive. Silas then resumed his measurements. Going to the next slave, he measured each of them until he found another one.

Silas Aygun – “Are you docile?”

The girl was shaking in fear.

Silas Aygun – “Have you also lost your tongue?”

The girl – “No! I’m docile!”

Silas Aygun – “Ask me to strike you.”

The girl – “Strike me!”

Silas struck her with his staff, and in a scream of pain, she fell to the ground.

Silas Aygun – “Ask it again.”

The girl looked at him, terrified.

The girl – “Strike . . . me . . .”

Silas Aygun – “I’ll take this one.”

A few hours later, Alphael was installing his remaining livestock in the fisherman boat. The girls had been locked in the bottom of the boat, and the men had been locked to 14 large benches on the first lower deck. Large oars had been placed through the side of the ship. Alphael and his bodyguards then joined Velit’s crew on the upper deck. As the boat was raising its anchor, Velit joined Alphael.

Velit – “Where are we heading to?”

Alphael – “To Madinat Almudun, across the Coniuntasien Sea.”

Velit – “It will take us two days if we don’t encounter a storm.”

Alphael – “That’s fine by me! Let’s get these oars moving, shall we?”

Velit – “HEY! YOU SEA DOGS! HOIST THE SAILS! GET THOSE SLAVES MOVING!”

Crewmen – “YES, CAPTAIN!”

The overseer walked in the lower deck with a short whip between the many slaves.

Overseer – “If you want to eat, you’ll have to work for it! If you can’t work, you’ll be thrown overboard.”

The overseer sat on a chair nailed to the ground at the front of the lower deck. A large drum was attached to it with ropes. Nearly 50 slaves were looking at him, frightened for their fates. The overseer began hitting the drum.

Overseer – “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT?! START ROWING, OR I’LL SEND ONE OF YOU OVERBOARD!”

The slaves moved their large oars, following the overseer’s rhythm. Under the sweat of men and the chant of the sea, the ship hastened.