35. CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
If Tartaros, the prison of torment and suffering the Achaeans were so afraid of, existed in the world of the living, it would be a slave market.
Alena couldn’t shake the feeling that she had stepped into another realm as she walked among the cages full of men, women, and children awaiting a terrible fate. Pale, tanned, and dark-skinned, tall and robust, short and sinewy, hair as gold as the sun or as dark as a winter’s night. They stood or sat around their cages, accepting their fate in silence, or paced around, fire burning behind their eyes.
None of them were Katell.
Leukos had agreed to split the money, go their separate ways to buy slaves so as not to raise any suspicions, and then meet back at the marble staircase. The leather pouch contained enough coins to buy two men or women, according to Leukos. Perhaps four if Alena chose children instead. It was an impossible decision to make, and it wasn’t made any easier as she observed all the desperate faces.
Larger cages caught her attention, partially hidden behind the stage and covered in drapes. A small crowd of Rasennan elites, draped in folds of colourful silk, ambled from cage to cage, glancing through the gaps.
Alena sidled closer, and the smell of unwashed bodies and piss stung her nose. Stretching her neck, she peered inside one of the ages.
Short, brawny women, most of them naked from the waist up, huddled together away from the openings, blinking at the harsh sunlight.
Alena approached another cage. Again it was filled with Non-Humans.
The final cage was smaller and jammed with children, many too young to care for themselves. They sat together in a small corner of shade, avoiding the burning sun filtering through the iron bars.
The ache in Alena’s chest returned. The slave market was worse than she could have ever imagined.
A croaky voice made her jump. A slaver with thinning black hair rambled on in Rhaetic behind her, gesturing to the children inside.
“Well met,” she said through gritted teeth. “Do you speak Koine?”
The man shook his head and disappeared among the cages. Soon, another slaver took his place.
“A slave girl who speaks Koine.” Given the grimy state of her tunic, it was no wonder he’d mistaken her for a slave.
The slaver’s thick eyebrows covered even darker eyes that showed no warmth. The fresh scar on his cheek and crooked nose gave him a fierce expression. Unlike the Rasennan citizens, he wore a dark tunic over breeches, and a short sword hung from his belt.
“Is your master interested in Northern Beasts?”
It took her a moment to realise he meant the Non-Humans. She nodded, choosing not to correct his assumptions about her.
“This lot escaped from the capital and were captured near the Eluvite Mountains, headed north, no doubt.” The slaver leaned against the cage, scratching his short beard. “How such a large group managed to escape all at once and travel together is anyone’s guess. We made sure to crush their spirit by separating the mothers from their young ones. Have no fear, we’ll give you a fair price.”
The coins in Alena’s pouch didn’t cover the cost of Non-Humans, but that didn’t deter her from trying. She’d learned how to barter as soon as her father had taught her how to count, and she’d had plenty of experience from the neighbouring Freefolk camps that drove a tough bargain during the moon festivals.
With a thunderous rattle, a wooden crate stacked against the cage emitted an animalistic growl.
The slaver gave it a sharp kick. “Settle down.”
The growls grew louder, and Alena’s gut clenched as she recognised a human voice. “What are you keeping in there?”
The slaver snorted and spat on the crate. “A demon who hasn’t yet learned his place. Little bastard attacked me as we separated the women and children.”
He pointed at the wound on his face, but Alena took no notice and bent down to peek through the wooden planks. Bright green eyes glared back at her from beneath scraggly brown hair. The dirty face twisted into a snarl.
Alena whirled on the slaver, nails digging into her palms. “You’re keeping a boy locked inside a crate?”
The disapproval in her voice didn’t seem to faze him in the least. “No one has managed to approach him since the capture. With the upcoming auction, we’ve had no time to break him, but he’ll learn his place soon enough.”
“Does he have a mother?”
The slaver frowned. “Perhaps. Although I doubt your master sent you to buy a feral boy and his mother.”
“Do not question my master’s demands. Do you wish to make a sale or not? Otherwise, I’ll be happy to spend my master’s coins elsewhere.”
He held up his arms. “No need for threats, little lady. Just needed to make sure. By all means, if you take the feral boy, then good riddance. As for the mother, I don’t remember which one it is.”
“Take me to the cages. I’ll find her.” Alena was glad when the slaver did just that without asking further questions.
They walked past the first cage, and she peered inside at the dozen women sitting packed together. The cage was silent except for the swarm of flies buzzing around the brown patches in the straw.
“Ask them if they have a boy.”
The slaver’s brow lowered. “They don’t speak Rhaetic.”
“No, but if they were slaves in the capital, then they must understand basic words. Ask, and speak slowly.”
She listened to him question the women, and when a few shook their heads, they moved on to the next cage, and the next. The fourth one also held women, but they were dressed in rags, and their faces were bruised.
“The troublesome ones,” the slaver said with a shrug. “If the pup is bad, then undoubtedly it comes from the mother’s side.”
Alena bit her tongue and waited. The slaver questioned the women once. Then twice.
At last, a young woman stepped forward.
“Boy.” Her voice was hoarse, barely a whisper against the tumultuous slave market. She crawled closer, slapping a hand against her chest. “Boy, boy!”
“It’s her. Open the cage.” The slaver did as he was told, and the Non-Human took a hesitant step.
She appeared young, close to Katell’s age or younger; it was hard to tell from her mottled, weathered face. Her large forehead and broad nose, tanned and peeling, contrasted with her captivating sea-green eyes and thick golden hair split into dozens of small braids. Luckily, she wore clothes. A tunic made of animal skins covered her from shoulder to knees, although it was stained with blood.
“Are you hurt?”
Gawking, the girl shook her head. Alena smiled; she understood Koine.
“Of course not,” the slaver said. “We might rough up the merchandise, but we don’t sell damaged goods.”
Alena reeled in her sharp tongue before it got her into trouble. “How much for the mother and her boy?”
The slaver’s expression shifted, his wide smile exposing yellowed teeth. “Northern Beasts are stronger and more manageable than regular slaves. They last longer, too. The boy will make a fine hand on a farm or in the mines—”
“You’ve just said he was unmanageable,” Alena cut in, crossing her arms. “It will cost my master time and money before he can work.”
The man gritted his teeth. “Non-Humans are more expensive—”
“Obedient ones, yes, but these are fugitives.” She held out her leather pouch. “This should be enough for them both. Now, hand me the key to the crate.”
The slaver’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t argue again. He took the pouch and tipped its contents onto a scale. After considering the amount, he scribbled on a scroll, which he handed over with a key and a scowl. “Pleasure doing business with you.”
Leukos would be displeased that she’d spent the money on Non-Humans, but in her heart, Alena knew she had made the right choice. She pocketed the parchment proving they belonged to her and hurried back to the children’s cages, the Non-Human mother trailing behind. Once the crate was in sight, the mother rushed towards it with a cry.
The boy called to her, and she slipped her fingers through the holes, whispering in their native tongue. Alena knelt to unlock the chains, and they opened the heavy lid together. The boy climbed out, not without difficulty, and threw himself into his mother’s arms.
He wore a simple loincloth, his shoulder blades and ribs poking out from beneath his skin. A few more days locked inside the crate and he would have died from hunger. He was young, seven or eight years, no more. His rich dark brown hair, similar to Katell’s, fell almost to his shoulders.
Noticing Alena, he growled despite his mother’s protests. She held him back by the shoulders, admonishing him, but he fought against her. Beneath his unkempt hair, Alena glimpsed high cheekbones and sea-green eyes.
“Don’t be afraid.” She spoke in a gentle voice and extended her hand in a peaceful gesture. “I won’t hurt you.”
With a fierce snarl, the boy lunged and sank his teeth into her palm. Pain burst through her skin like a thousand needles. The mother gasped, then yelled at the boy, trying to break his hold.
Alena bit the inside of her cheek, breathing through the pain. The boy’s powerful bite sent waves of pure agony through her palm, clamped between his teeth. Despite this, she stared right at him and, with her free hand, brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes. “You’re safe. It’s over. Your mother and you are safe. I promise you.”
His face went blank, and he opened his mouth, letting go.
Despite the bleeding, when Alena assessed her hand, the wounds weren’t overly deep.
At once, the mother shrieked, prostrating herself in the filth and mud. “Please, forgive! Please, please!”
Her shouts drew the slavers’ attention. Afraid they might intervene, Alena tugged the Non-Human to her feet.
“Please, stand up.” She patted the mother’s shoulder, soothing her cries while clutching her bleeding hand to her chest. The boy buried his face in his mother’s tunic, his whole body tense as though expecting to be punished. “Don’t be afraid. Your boy has been treated like an animal and is in shock. I’m sure he didn’t mean me harm. Please, what’s your name?”
The mother held her son against her, trembling all over.
Alena gave her an encouraging smile. “My name is Alena. What do they call you?”
Finally, the mother brought her closed fingertips to her mouth and opened her palm. “San.”
“San?” Alena repeated. “Is that your name?”
She nodded.
“Well, San, I’m glad I found you. Let’s get out of here and find some clothes and food for you and your boy.”
They left the market, keeping their heads down. They passed by rows of cages, then weaved their way through the crowd gathered in front of the auction stage.
Alena found Leukos pacing back and forth before the marble staircase, away from the crowds. Next to him stood a young girl and boy, with their heads bowed.
As soon as he caught sight of the mother and boy traipsing behind Alena, the relief on his face morphed into a thunderous frown. “You bought Non-Humans?”
“Yes.” She raised her chin, holding his stare. “The boy was locked in a wooden crate and left to die. What was I supposed to do? I made the slaver find his mother and bought them both.”
“You’re hurt.” His gaze, locked on the bloodied fingers curled against her chest, darkened. “Twelve be damned, what happened?”
Dreading what he might do to the boy, she turned away with a shrug. “It was an accident.”
He pulled her back before she could hide from him. “Let me see.”
“It’s truly nothing.”
“Then let me see it, Alena.”
She relented, and Leukos took her hand, his warm touch spreading through her arm. Handling her palm with care, he took in the angry red bite marks, and a shadow crossed his features. A muscle in his jaw tightened, and his dark eyes snapped to the mother and boy.
San blanched and dropped her gaze.
“It was my fault,” Alena said, retrieving a bandage from her bag. It wasn’t much, but it was the best she had until they found more supplies. “I reached out to the boy when he was terrified, and he reacted on instinct.”
Leukos seemed unconvinced. “Non-Humans are dangerous.”
The other slaves winced at his harsh tone, their heads still bowed.
“He’s just a boy.” She wrapped her hand, sawing her lip between her teeth and refusing to show pain in front of Leukos. “Besides, his mother, San, will keep an eye on him. She understands Koine.”
Leukos released a long breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You learned the Non-Human’s name. Of course, you did.”
Alena spared a glance at the young girl and boy. “I thought we agreed to save slaves, not scare them half to death,” she admonished. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” He continued his pacing, the muscles in his shoulders visibly taut. “I searched among the cages and bought the ones that appeared the most desperate. The girl won’t last more than a few days without a proper meal, and the boy was being picked on by the guards.”
“Well, did you at least try talking to them?” she asked. “Did you tell them they were safe?”
Leukos gave her a dry look and then rounded on the two slaves, muttering something in Rhaetic. It was no use. The poor things appeared even more terror-stricken.
Alena resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Let’s just go.” The continuous racket of the market was setting her on edge, and her throbbing hand didn’t help. “The sun will set soon, and we should find shelter before nightfall.”
Leukos nodded and took off without a word. Alena shook her head at him, then coaxed the slaves to follow them with a warm smile.