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I almost forget there are others and force myself to look upon them to see if there are great differences. Aside from general size and shape, there are not.
They clearly have not fed well, and yet pockets of fat remain on their bodies. Where I’m from, women are hard and lean. Perfectly sculpted. They’d never allow themselves to be taken as these women had, unless it’s by a worthy mate and at their choosing.
These small beings truly are disgusting. Perhaps their families knew this and sold them to slavers rather than allow their family names to be tarnished.
But then again, nothing could tarnish their names more than consorting with slavers.
They’re talking amongst themselves, a few casting scathing glances at the object of my obsession.
Did I say obsession? Truly, I meant interest. And why shouldn’t she interest me? She’s one of the strongest of her kind. If any of these women are worthy of notice, it would be her.
What would my tribe say to this? Each of them must feel the need to mate just as much as I do, but none of us wishes to fall further into disrepute than we already are. Our reason for exile is clear, and mating with such pitiful creatures will only bring further embarrassment to us.
I’ll build a fire and monitor the situation so that when I return to my men, there are no questions. Soon enough, the women will succumb to the harsh conditions of Melgrim, and all thoughts of the dark-haired woman will cease.
5
ELENA
The sun warms me quickly after my icy ocean bath.
Looking around at the other girls, I’m amazed that so many of us have made it this far. A kernel of pride blooms within me, daring to hope that perhaps some of us will live long lives.
While I may resent the way I’ve been treated, I have to admit, a part of me wants to belong. I want them to smile at me and chatter excitedly. It’s what I’ve always longed for.
But being a bastard is worse than being a servant. And I am both.
When the boar is cooked through, I carve a piece off the flank for myself. I can tell a few of the others are upset that I’m not asking for permission, but we’re no longer in Penticar.
Their names don’t matter here. Not to me. Especially when I’m hungry.
I’m glad to see Asha is up and walking, though she refuses to eat or get out of her filthy rags. While it’s easy for me to harden my heart to most of these girls, there are a few I’ve grown to care for.
“We need more food,” Meg says, her expression grim, “but more than that, we need fresh water.”
The corsairs had a quarter of a barrel of water, which will soon diminish. Especially with the liberties we’ve taken.
“There’s a way to make ocean water drinkable,” Nori says.
Meg scrunches her brow. “How’s that?”
“We must heat it until it evaporates, then we find a way to catch the evaporated water. That method will get rid of the salt. We’d need—”
Meg shakes her head from side to side. “Even if we had everything we needed, we’d never be able to purify enough for all of us.”
“Perhaps we should put restrictions on the water,” Amber says.
Meg’s expression grows dour. “We’re already rationing it. What more could we do?”
“Maybe some people don’t need as much water as others…” Her eyes shift over to me.
Unbelievable.
I square my shoulders, taking on an aggressive stance. “You know what? You’re right. You’re looking well hydrated. Perhaps you should leave it for others.”
Her eyes grow round that I should be so bold toward my ‘better.’
Meg steps in between us. “Listen, Amber—in case you didn’t realize it, Elena here was a big part of our escape. More useful than you by half.”
