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Or maybe they’d all be imprisoned where they’d slowly rot and die in a cell.
The water wasn’t enough. The man died in the night while the lantern burned low, and his sister buried her face in his chest as she cried.
“Prince,” someone whispered.
Oriel’s mouth and throat were so dry, he didn’t even want to speak. “I’m not a Prince anymore.”
“Still, take it.”
He opened his eyes to see a pale man holding out his water skin like he wanted to toss it across the hold. Tortured by thirst, the small bulge in the leather appeared beyond tempting, but he shook his head. He didn't deserve relief at their expense.
“I don’t want it. Keep it.”
The dead fairy was taken away in the morning. His sister screamed and clutched at his body, but the sailors pried off her weak fingers and ignored her shrieks. Aspen didn’t twitch at the noise, and Oriel was afraid he was dead too. They gave him water and broth, so he must have been alive.
They must have been close because sailors came down after a few hours with a healer.
“He’s not to be touched again,” said the healer. She didn’t hesitate to stick a finger up Aspen’s ass to heal the no doubt countless tears he'd suffered. It was a wonder he hadn’t already succumbed to infection considering their conditions.
“I don’t see why,” grumbled a sailor.
“He was a pleasure slave before, so he’ll be worth a lot. He already knows how to please someone. He won’t need much training unless he fights.”
“He looks dead.”
“He’s in shock,” said the healer. “I’ve seen people like this. They can come back.”
But in what state? She didn’t mention that or how deep the cracks ran in their mind, and can didn’t mean he definitely would. Oriel hoped that wherever Aspen had gone in his head, he wasn’t suffering there. The sailors unchained him, and the healer said to put him on his stomach. Aspen lay like he was dead while she touched the sores on his back from where the wood had scraped him since he’d been stuck like that for a whole week.
“Leave him free,” she said. “If he comes around, he’ll need to move his arms and legs, and it’s not like he can escape from here anyway. Everyone’s to be sold quite quickly, right?”
A sailor grunted. “I reckon so.”
What the fuck. Sold? The lord had said Oriel would make a pretty slave, and he imagined the King or some special lord would keep him as a secret one. True slavery in general wasn’t done, but it didn’t mean it was impossible for one to be kept in secret. He thought the lord had just intended special punishment for Oriel and Aspen, and everyone else would be dumped in a prison.
The healer nodded. “Check on him later, and if he’s up, give him soup with a little bread in it. Force it into him if you need to.”
She left, and the three sailors finally turned their attention to the other fairies. A couple shrunk back, but some were pretty dead-eyed now and didn't seem to notice. One balled up his fists.
“That one looks to be the cleanest.” A sailor pointed at a woman near one side who started to sob as she shrunk back.
It hadn’t worked before with Aspen, but Oriel sat up as his stomach clenched. “You can have me instead.”
“Maybe I don’t want you.”
“But she’s sick.”
The woman let out a pretty convincing cough at that moment. The healer must not have had the ability to heal sickness since she hadn’t come down for the dying guy. Many illnesses required medicines too.
Oriel couldn’t bear to see someone else be raped. Aspen might not ever come back from wherever he’d gone in his mind, but he might be able to save that woman. He leaned back on the slanted side and spread his legs as the sailors looked at him.
“I don't have anything," he managed to get out through gritted teeth. "And I won't fight."
“You think you’re in a condition to fight?” one asked as the trio drew nearer. Terror clawed at Oriel's empty gut, but at least they were away from the woman.
“The others will fight,” he whispered.
The sailors paused as they seemed to consider that. With the fairies all chained together so close, the sailors would have no choice but to risk other nearby ones possibly attacking them if they went for the woman. If they killed what was supposed to be merchandise, they might get in trouble. A couple of the people had horns too, and those could do some damage.
