Chapter 3
Three
W hen the barbarian brought me back to his tent and started stripping me, I expected the worst. I had no hope of fighting him off. He towered over me and the muscles of his arms were probably larger than my head. I could only cry and beg for him to have mercy. And he did. He only stripped me long enough to get me clean before dressing me again. Then he traded the bowl of water for a bowl of food and fed it to me by hand when I was too scared to move until I felt safe enough to take it myself.
The food wasn’t bad, fire smoked meats and some kind of vegetable I didn't recognize. I wasn’t really worldly, having only ever experienced what was to offer in our town, so I couldn’t say what he was feeding me. Only that it was warm and filling and he let me eat as much as I wanted. After two and a half days without a meal, I was starving and finished everything he gave me. He seemed pleased, the corners of his mouth kicked up in a small smile. He offered me more from his own bowl, but I shook my head. I didn’t want him to go hungry just because the mayor had refused to feed me while we were waiting for the barbarians to fetch me. Besides, any more food and I would be sick.
For the first time in days, I was clean, fed, and warm. Fatigue dragged at my senses, but I fought against it, too scared to close my eyes for long. He must have noticed, though, because he frowned and wiped off his hands before scooping me up again and moving me over to the makeshift bed. He didn’t crawl in to join me, or make a move to take advantage of me. He just tucked me in and turned down the lantern, finishing his meal in the dark. I tried to keep my eyes open and on him, to make sure he didn’t come after me, but fatigue won out and I fell asleep before too long.
I woke up while it was still dark to my whole body shaking. It was freezing and while there were blankets below me to protect me from the ground and one above me, it wasn’t enough. I curled in on myself, trying to tuck my legs into the overly large tunic for warmth. It was when my teeth started to chatter that the barbarian woke up. He’d been asleep next to me, facing the flap of the tent’s entrance, but he turned over and I could feel him staring at me in the dark. I clenched my teeth hard enough to make my jaw hurt to stop the chatter, but I was still shaking. I was never a very good actor.
A large arm came around my waist, drawing me against the barbarian’s chest. I stiffened, afraid that now that we were awake and in bed together, he’d finally take advantage, but he only turned me over and tucked my head under his chin, wrapping himself around me. I didn’t understand why until the warmth sank into my skin. Relief overwhelmed me as my body relaxed. He was warm and holding me to keep me warm, too. It didn’t take long for the fatigue to drag me back to sleep again, and I stayed curled up against him until morning.
When I woke again, it was lighter. The sun hadn’t quite risen yet, but I could see better in the tent. I was still cuddled up against the large barbarian, using his body heat to keep warm. A part of me wished I could go back to sleep and pretend for a little while longer that I wasn’t sold off by my own father to a barbarian clan that might very well kill me as soon as I proved not useful. I wasn’t a strong or clever man. They would be disappointed once they realized how useless I was.
I bit my lip, fighting back tears. More proof of what a useless man I was. Before her passing, my mother used to call me ‘sensitive’. My brothers called me pathetic. I learned to hide my tears as much as possible to not garner their attention. I didn’t want to catch the barbarian’s attention either.
Only, it’d been hours since I was last able to relieve myself. It was the discomfort that woke me. I wasn’t sure where to go or if I was even allowed to relieve myself without supervision, but I didn’t want to wake the barbarian and earn his ire to ask. I squirmed uncomfortably, willing myself to wait, but my movements were too erratic because the barbarian stirred and opened his eyes, his brows drawing together slowly.
He asked me something, but I couldn’t understand him. I shook my head helplessly, fear and discomfort at war in my mind. Would he lash out like my father did?
Sitting up, he tried again, gesturing at me with a questioning look. I took it to mean him asking me what was wrong, but it was embarrassing to answer him. I felt my face flush, dropping my gaze to my lap.
“I need to relieve myself…”
He was quiet for a moment and when I looked up, he seemed confused. My body protested the wait and in a desperate move, I squirmed and pressed my hands into my lap, trying to hold out.
Body language worked better than talking because his eyebrows shot up and he pushed to his feet, leading me outside to a trench used in place of a toilet. He said something to me again and when I frowned, he scrubbed the back of his neck with his own frown. He pointed to the forest and shook his head no. Then mimicked running with his fingers on his palm. No running. I wished I could tell him I wasn’t brave enough to do such a thing so he wouldn’t hurt me, but I could only nod to show I understood. He gave me privacy, stepping past the line of trees so I could do my business. When I was through, I hurried to where he was waiting, not wanting to give him any reason to harm me. He’d been kind so far, but I didn’t trust it to last.
He brought me back to his tent and urged me back to bed. The sun was just rising, so it was still early, but he didn’t join me like he had before. Instead, he wrapped me tightly in the blanket to keep me warm and sat on the ground near the lantern that he relit. It looked like he was mending his clothes and the methodical movements of his hands lulled me back to sleep.
When I woke for the third time, the sun was up and the tent was well lit. The barbarian was still working, his expression calm and focused. While he wasn’t paying attention to me, I got a better look at him in the light. He had long brown hair that was shaved on the sides, as well as a thick beard. He slept shirtless, which was astounding given how cold it got. Then again, he was warm like a fire even in the middle of the night, so the cold must not have bothered him. His arms and chest were covered in tattoos, symbols carved in ink on his skin. I didn’t know the meaning of any of it, but it was kind of pretty if you looked at it in the right light. When he’d come to fetch me, he’d had necklaces on, but they were set aside for now. All that decorated thick muscles and a wide chest. Even his thighs were massive. I was beyond terrified of what might be in his pants, especially if he planned to use it on me, but thankfully he slept in trousers the night before. If it was proportional to his frame, then I might have had nightmares.
Like he could feel me studying him, he turned and raised an eyebrow at me. I dropped my gaze immediately, fighting back the urge to hide under the blanket.
“Korvash,” the barbarian said. I didn’t know what the word meant, but when I gathered enough courage to look up at him, he beckoned me with a wave of his hand. I whimpered, terrified of what he wanted from me, but he waited patiently and didn’t speak again until I got off the bed and moved closer, careful to keep the blanket around my shoulders. The tunic he gave me kept me covered, but it was too large and kept slipping off my shoulders when I moved around too much.
He rewarded me coming closer with a soft smile and a nod of his head. Then, without a word, he lifted me to my feet and stood me in front of him. I sucked in a sharp breath and tried to edge away, but he held fast to my hips, moving the blankets out of his way.
“P-please, no…” I whimpered. Not that he could understand. For all I knew, in his language, it sounded like I was saying yes.
He didn’t pull off my clothes or anything nefarious. Instead, he held up a pair of trousers that actually looked my size, holding them against me to measure better. He frowned, pursing his lips, but it was hard to truly look while I was wearing the tunic. It was basically a dress and hid my body from him.
To make things easier, I held out a shaky hand for the material. “I-I can try them on?”
When he shot me a questioning look, I mimicked pulling the trousers on. It was embarrassing to act out my intentions, but it helped and he nodded decisively, handing me the clothing. He even gave me his back for privacy, pawing through a wooden box while I slipped the trousers on. They were a little wide around the waist, but just right on the length. I cautiously tapped his shoulder, stiffening when he turned around. He pointed at the hem of the tunic and raised an eyebrow at me, silently asking to lift it. I nodded and squeezed my eyes shut, willing it all to be over quickly.
He muttered under his breath, pinching the sides until they fit better. Then he ushered me out of them with a gentle tug, making sure the tunic covered me in the process. He wasn’t at all what I was expecting. When the towns talked about the barbarians, they compared them to wild animals who raped and pillaged and would gut you as soon as look at you. This one was nothing like that. In the short time I’d known him, he bathed me, took care of my chafed wrists, fed me, and was now making me clothes. From scratch? Or maybe from his own, tailoring them to fit me instead. Which meant he was literally giving me the clothes off his own back. Would it always be this way? Or was he just buttering me up, so I was more compliant when he finally showed his true colors?