Hero Of Slaves (Novella) Page 3

  “After today, it makes me wonder if it’s worth it,” Cassus muttered.

  A long silence passed. “Be patient. I will continue to talk with the elders among us.”

  Yenaz shuffled away. Cassus knew he had been too harsh with the man.

  A heavy sigh passed his lips.

  Jonrell would have known what to say. He snorted. Jonrell wouldn’t be in this situation.

  Chapter 4

  Yanasi struck the bulls-eye with her fifth straight arrow. Cassus couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in the young girl. She had only been a member of the Hell Patrol for a few years. Though everyone looked out for her, he especially tried to see to her well-being.

  Cassus had been the one to suggest she take up the bow over the sword due to her size. He taught her little more than the basics with the weapon. After that, natural talent and determination had taken over.

  Yanasi fired her next shot. Afterward, she kicked the dirt at her feet in frustration.

  “What’s wrong?” asked Cassus. “You hit the bulls-eye again.”

  She hung her head and spoke in a soft voice. “I was shooting for a spot further to the left. I missed.”

  Cassus chuckled and walked over to the girl. He pushed aside her fiery red ponytail while putting his arm around her. “Quit being so hard on yourself. I’ve never seen anyone do what you can do.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t do better. I don’t want anyone to die because I missed a shot. What would Jonrell say if that happened?”

  Cassus bent down, and forced Yanasi to meet his eye. He knew the girl idolized Jonrell. He took her by the chin. “He would say that you did the best you could under the circumstances and that he was proud of you. Everyone makes mistakes. You have to learn from them, move on, and take advantage of the next opportunity. Alright?”

  She nodded.

  “Good.” He smiled. “I’ll race you to the target. Last one there has to clean the other’s boots.”

  She flashed a grin, and they took off.

  * * *

  Cassus realized he had made a mistake by taking his anger out on Yenaz the night before. Without the Byzernian’s intervention there would have been no way he could have risen from the floor in the morning, let alone pull his weight at the oar as he had for the past several hours. He wasn’t sure what Yenaz had done differently last night than the day before, but Cassus’ muscles had more life in them. The rowmaster even allowed him his two full ladles of water at each break.

  Congratulations for a job well done, Cassus.

  Cassus turned toward Yenaz, ready to whisper his gratitude when frantic shouting came from the deck above.

  A sailor came down to speak with the rowmaster. Cassus couldn’t make out what they said, but the rowmaster didn’t seem pleased.

  “That’s going to put us behind schedule,” he growled.

  “Take it up with Melchizan. His orders.”

  The sailor ran back up to the main deck and the rowmaster swore, kicking an empty water pail. He gave a signal on the pipes that called for all three levels to cease, something usually done only at night. “Everyone on your feet!”

  A column of slaves quickly formed and filed up a flight of stairs to the main deck.

  White sails hung limp as the ship sat in the open water.

  Cassus noticed women and children coming up from the hold as guards corralled the slaves into their designated area. He knew there had been others onboard, but seeing them for the first time tugged at his heart.

  Cassus took a chance to talk to Yenaz. “What’s going on?” he whispered.

  “It could be anything.”

  “Anything bad?”

  Yenaz nodded toward the bow of the ship. “Usually.”

  Melchizan stood at the center of the bow. A small Byzernian boy, near the age of seven, stood next to him. The boy’s hands and feet were bound. A cut ran across his cheek. Cassus eyed the rings on Melchizan’s hand. His blood boiled.

  Melchizan shouted. “I’ve been too easy on all of you. Some of you have decided that a place to sleep and food in your belly isn’t enough.” He glared at Cassus. “Yesterday, someone took more than his share of water.” He threw the boy to the decking. “And then today, I caught this runt in my personal quarters trying to steal food. A whip was used yesterday to punish, but apparently a stronger message needs to be sent today.”

  Roshan, the mage, came forward, pushing his sleeves up. He opened his hands and held them out at his sides.

  “No!” Cassus shouted. He pushed his way through the Byzernians.

  A member of Melchizan’s crew ran over, punching him in the gut. Cassus dropped to his knees.

  “Shut up and know your place,” said the man.

  Cassus grit his teeth, biting back the pain, and lunged. The guard stepped aside, and Cassus fell again.

  “Hold him still!” shouted Melchizan.

  Hands hauled him up by the armpits. He tried to shrug them off, but lacked the strength.

  A black mist snaked out of Roshan’s fingertips, growing thicker as it swirled before the mage. The mist stopped and coalesced into a creature of shadow. With the slightest of nods from Roshan, the shadow lunged at the Byzernian boy. He screamed as the creature wrapped around him. His howls of pain and fear choked off as the creature constricted. The boy fell to the decking, gasping. He struggled until the sick crack of his bones rolled across the deck and he went limp. Roshan recalled the shadow. The mage acted as if the entire ordeal had been nothing.

  Melchizan gestured to one of his guards. The man seemed hesitant to touch the child’s shriveled and discolored skin, but finally managed the courage. Tears streaked Cassus’ cheeks. His heart pounded with anger as the guard dumped the youth over the railing.

  The guards holding Cassus let go.

  Cassus balled his fists and faced the dozens of Byzernians standing near him. Shock and fear greeted him. Many sobbed. A woman across the deck wailed so loudly that Cassus knew she must have been the boy’s mother.

  Cassus spat at the Byzernian’s feet. “I thought that no man deserved to have their freedom taken from them. But after watching all of you stand by as that boy died, I realize I was wrong. You deserve to be slaves.”

  Cassus brushed by them and took the first spot in line to go below deck. Others quietly stepped in behind him. Cassus refused to acknowledge them. At the guard’s command, he trudged downstairs and found his spot on the bench. He grabbed his oar so tightly, his fingers turned white. After everyone found their seats, the rowmaster’s pipes started again.

  I can’t believe I ever risked so much for them.

  A faint whisper came from his right. He turned and saw Yenaz wearing a determined expression.

  “You wanted to know what it would take to convince the others something must be done? It just happened. I know I can convince them to do something now.”

  “You could have done something yourself today when I stepped forward.”

  “Two men are not enough. We need more.”

  “Two men?” Cassus snorted, thinking about his own efforts since leaving the Hell Patrol. “My best friend once told me that it only took one man to stand up and defend what was right. I’m beginning to realize his math was wrong.”

  * * *

  A string of blood trickled from Cassus’ split lip. It swayed with every rock of his head.

  Guards had stripped away his shirt after Melchizan tired of his normal method for inflicting pain. It seemed his captor’s patience had reached an end.

  Roshan took Melchizan’s place as tormentor, stretching out each moment for all he could. Contrary to what Cassus had expected, the mage refrained from using sorcery of any kind. Instead, he heated several small, metal instruments over a flame until they glowed red. One by one, Roshan cooled them against Cassus’ bare skin, filling Melchizan’s cabin with an awful aroma of burnt meat. Cassus managed to suffer through the first round of burns by imagining he was somewhere else.

  His imagination was
only so strong.

  The second round elicited guttural screams as the instruments seared both his nipples. Minutes afterward, Cassus still struggled to slow his breathing. The agonizing reminders on his chest, arms, and stomach seemed minor compared to the anticipation of where the mage might go next. Cassus watched Roshan slowly turn each instrument over the flame again, his face void of emotion.

  “Get him up and remove his trousers,” said Roshan.

  “No. This isn’t necessary.”

  “Oh, but it is,” said Melchizan. “You still haven’t agreed to help us. We’re fast approaching the Byzernian Islands. Traders have sworn sorcery is causing them to forget what they’re doing until they’re back out in the open water.”

  The confusion spells.

  “Roshan doesn’t believe that something on such a large scale is possible, but I’m not taking any chances. Tell me how to reach the inner islands.”

  Cassus said nothing. He knew how to circumvent the spells. He had done so half a dozen times when returning freed slaves to the Byzernian leaders.

  Melchizan tsked. “Still can’t betray them?” He raised his voice. “Why do you help them when it’s so obvious they’re meant to be slaves? Why suffer for them if they aren’t willing to protect themselves?”

  Why? Once I would have said because it was the right thing to do, but look where the right thing has gotten me.

  Melchizan let out a sigh. “I’m tired of waiting.” He looked to Roshan. “Go for his eyes instead.”

  One Above, help me!

  Roshan neared him with a glowing metal hook. The guard behind Cassus held his head in place. Cassus hissed out air between his teeth with each rapid breath. As Roshan neared, Cassus’ eyes darted about the room, expecting at any moment for his prayer to be answered. Though the One Above remained silent, Cassus could not.

  “Wait! Stop! Stop!”

  “Are you ready to answer my questions?” asked Melchizan. His voice was calm.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter 5

  “Here,” said Hag in a raspy voice. “Take it before someone sees me being nice and thinks they deserve the same.”

  Cassus looked at the large bowl of stew, piled with twice the amount of meat as normal. He grabbed it. “What’s this for?”

  “For taking care of Yanasi,” said the old woman.

  “What do you mean? Everyone takes care of her.”

  “Some. But not even Jonrell does as much for her as you. Others might not see it, but I do.”

  Cassus shrugged. “I never really thought about it.”

  Hag grunted. “I know. You just do what’s right because you’ve got a good heart.” She pointed to the bowl. “Make sure this stays between us.”

  “Of course.”

  The old woman started to waddle off when Cassus called out to her. “Hag.”

  She turned.

  “My heart really could go for an extra piece of bread.” Cassus grinned.

  The old woman chuckled. “Don’t push it.”

  * * *

  The guard dropped Cassus to the floor. The jarring force should have solicited a wail of pain, but his body had grown numb from the hours of abuse. The guard didn’t even bother to chain him to the hull. Footsteps trailed away, and a door slammed shut.

  Finally. I can rest.

  A throat cleared. Chains shuffled toward him. Yenaz leaned into his line of sight wearing a frown. “I see that you didn’t take my advice and pretend to black out.”

  Cassus didn’t have the energy to answer.

  “Close your eyes and give me a few minutes. You’ll feel better when I’m done.”

  Cassus tried to speak, wanting to tell Yenaz to leave him alone so he could wallow in guilt for betraying the Byzernians, but only a groan came out. Yenaz ignored him and began to work. Once the healing began, Cassus couldn’t bring himself to fight against it.

  “What are you smiling for?” Cassus managed to croak.

  “I finally got through to them,” he whispered. “Watching Melchizan kill that boy and seeing you stand up for us helped change the minds of my people.” He inclined his head over his shoulder. “They’re still coming to terms with their decision. But they’re ready to act now.”

  Cassus noticed the other slaves murmuring off in a corner. “Why did my reaction matter so much?”

  “Because. You’ve risked your life numerous times to save our people. Hundreds have a better life because of you. If harsh words from the Hero of Slaves won’t convince us to act, then nothing will.”

  Cassus groaned. He calls me a hero. Yet, I gave into Melchizan.

  Yenaz chuckled. “Yes, I can see how that label would cause you grief. Still, look at all the good you’ve done. And none better than today.” He paused, and his smile faded. “There is still a chance that if we’re successful and return home, that the leadership will look down upon us. It’s a rare thing to do, but they could have us banished. But, if we’re able to convince them that things need to change . . .”

  Cassus winced at the excitement in Yenaz’s voice.

  “What?” said Yenaz. “I thought you’d be happy.”

  Cassus shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I betrayed you. Melchizan knows how to reach the innermost islands. The torture was too great.”

  Yenaz opened his mouth and closed it without speaking. He shuffled away.

  Cassus heard the murmurings grow louder and more excited before quieting down again.

  Cassus closed his eyes, hoping that sleep might help him escape his guilt for at least a little while.

  A light touch startled him awake. Yenaz had returned. Next to him sat one of the older slaves.

  “This is Quai,” said Yenaz. “He is one of the more respected leaders from the outer islands.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Cassus.

  Quai shook his head. In the dim light of the hull, Cassus couldn’t be sure, but it seemed the old man wore a soft smile. “There is nothing to be sorry about. After you help us escape, none of what you told Melchizan will matter anyway.”

  Cassus sat up. “I don’t know if you want my help after the village.”

  Quai cocked his head to the side. “Haven’t you also successfully freed over a thousand of our people?”

  Cassus paused. Has it really been that many? “Yes.”

  Quai smiled wider, having made his point. “So, what do we do?”

  Cassus looked past Quai and Yenaz, taking in the rest of the men in the hull. The Byzernians greatly outnumbered Melchizan’s crew.

  But none are trained fighters.

  “In a straight fight, you’ll lose. The only way to win is to take them by surprise and overpower them with numbers. Even if we’re successful, it’s likely that casualties will be high. Don’t forget that we still have to contend with Roshan. He alone might stop any revolt we mount.”

  “We’ve got ten people on this ship with a talent for sorcery,” said Yenaz.

  “Healing them is the last thing we’re trying to do,” joked Cassus. “Do any of you know other forms of sorcery?”

  Quai shook his head. “No. We never taught or studied anything that could be used for violence.”

  “Perhaps if we experimented,” offered Yenaz. “Maybe we could figure something out.”

  “And how long would that take?” Cassus asked. “We’ll be at the islands in a few days and the closer we get, the more alert the crew will become.”

  “It would take longer than a few days to experiment,” said Quai.

  “Until we can think of a way to counter Roshan, we’re wasting our time going any further.”

  “No,” said Quai. “We’ll fight no matter what, even if we all die. After what happened today . . .”

  The three stared at each other.

  Cassus cleared his throat. “Well then, let’s plan our death.” He started to outline a possible solution that took advantage of their water breaks when Yenaz grabbed his hand.

  “No,” said Yenaz. “I have it. We
reverse the healing spells.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Cassus.

  “When we heal someone, we can often sense the areas that had previously been injured and healed. Therefore, if we focus our senses on someone’s old wounds and reverse the healing process itself, we should be able to reopen wounds, rebreak bones, and so on.”

  Cassus shuddered at the thought. He turned to Quai. “Is that possible?”

  The old man nodded. “I believe so. Yenaz would know. He is the strongest among us here.” He paused. “Though to twist our methods . . .”

  “There isn’t an alternative,” said Yenaz. “You know that.”

  Quai looked like he would be sick. “So be it. If we’re going to turn our back on thousands of years of tradition, why not spit on it as well.”

  “So, can you do this from anywhere?” asked Cassus.

  “No,” said Yenaz. “We need to be close to the person. Ideally, touching them.”

  “That will present a problem.”

  Cassus rubbed at his dirty face, trying to think of a way to use the new information.

  One Above, I could sure use some help.

  Quai touched his arm. “We must hurry. The guard will be back soon to make his rounds.”

  “Do you know the routines of the crew?”

  Yenaz nodded. “Yes. I know the crew’s schedules as well as Melchizan does.”

  Cassus smiled.

  Chapter 6

  “Mages like to think they’re something special, but they die just like everyone else,” said Raker. He spat and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

  “Is that so?” asked Cassus, partially humoring the Hell Patrol’s engineer and partially wanting to satiate his own curiosity.

  “Of course.” Raker pointed to Krytien up ahead, walking in his faded black robes. “A ballista missile through the chest, a mace to the head, a knife to the back. It’ll all kill him the same as you and me.”

  “I heard that,” Krytien called back. “Remember, you have to sleep sometime.”

  “Mind your own business,” Raker called out. He lowered his voice. “See what I mean? They all think they’re something special.”

  Cassus grinned. “Good thing Krytien’s on our side then.”