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“Sit,” the sailor snapped before he wound the chain around the railing and locked it.
Oriel clutched onto Aspen as he huddled in the glare and tried to control his trembling. A limp fairy was dragged over and dumped by the railing, but nobody chained him. They must have thought it wasn’t worth the trouble. The fairies chest still rose with breath, so he wasn’t dead.
Despite being free of the hot, stinking hold, some of the other prisoners started to cry. A couple prayed in low voices. Whatever came next might be far worse. Oriel squinted at the docks and wondered if this was Juniper, the capital of the Meadow Kingdom.
He could make out a Castle in the distance to one side. Shouldn't it be bigger for King Taven? Maybe this was a different city, but why stop here?
The hustle and bustle of the city seemed beyond strange. While they’d spent days suffering savage conditions, these people had gone about their lives like always with nothing more than their typical daily worries to plague them. The fish market was full of fairies buying and selling, uncaring of the prisoners on the ships.
He glanced around at the dozens of other ships that were being moored. They likely also contained more people taken from Lork. One ship a few hundred yards away had the largest flag of all with a blazing spear crest, and he wondered if the King was really on it. He probably had plenty of lackeys more than willing to stay in West Bay and finish his dirty work so he could return home even if it was only for a short time.
A shirtless sailor with moving tattoos walked by with a fermon as he chewed. The sweet smell made Oriel’s mouth water as he eyed the blue, furry skin of the fruit and its paler flesh. He wasn't the only one staring at it. The twisting snake tattoo on the man’s back flicked its tongue out as if mocking the prisoners. Once the sailor was past them, the supposedly fainted fairy suddenly jumped up and made a dash for the railing on the starboard side.
Shouts rose, and someone tried to grab him, but utter fear must have given the man strength. He vaulted over the railing, clearly having decided potential drowning was a better fate.
Two sailors dove after him. Oriel couldn’t even think about his fate since he saw the orange-eyed lord from earlier clomping across the deck in his boots with his hair tied back. His green and blue embroidered coat was immaculate, and it was clear he’d enjoyed the trip in better conditions. Oriel turned away and hunched over Aspen while he waited for something to happen.
The fairy that tried to run didn’t get his wish to either escape or drown. He was dragged up the main gangplank by the two wet and pissed sailors who had gone after him. Oriel didn’t dare turn his head, but he could guess the poor fairy had been tied to the mast. The sound of the whip cracking and his screams were impossible to ignore.
While that went on, sailors went around with buckets of salt water to dump on everyone. Once the worst of the grime was gone, they used buckets of fresh water to clean off the salt.
“Now you’ll look nice and pretty for later,” one said with a leer.
Aspen twitched in Oriel’s embrace. Maybe it was the cold water combined with fresh air, or maybe the screams of the tortured fairy had pierced his consciousness. Whatever it was, Oriel whispered in his ear.
“I got you. I got you. I love you too. I never stopped, and I never hated you.”
He didn’t know if Aspen truly heard him since he didn’t move again. Oriel’s throat tightened as he realized he didn’t really have Aspen. This was temporary. They’d be torn apart soon, and there was nothing he could do about it.
The screams stopped, but the whip cracked a few more times.
“If anybody else tries to run again or refuses to obey, this is what will happen while you're in our care,” the lord yelled once it stopped. Oriel dared to peek over his shoulder at the lord who stood by the mast where the runaway's back was shredded. Two sailors untied him, dragged his bloody body to the side, and dumped him in the ocean.
He finally received his wish.
The “bath” hadn’t done a lot, but Oriel buried his nose in Aspen’s neck and tried to memorize his rose scent. For a few moments, he was almost able to forget about everything around him until someone grabbed his chain and started undoing it.
“King Taven has something special planned for you,” said the lord who had come up without Oriel hearing his boots.
Oriel tightened his grip on Aspen as three sailors started to pry them apart. He tried to hold on, but he felt his fingers slipping.
“Let go of me!” he screamed. “LET GO!”
Aspen was left to drop on the deck as Oriel was pulled to his feet. The fight drained from him as he sobbed. He’d probably never see him again.
They dragged him to the mast, but he didn’t care if they whipped him. He just wanted Aspen back and in his arms. The sailors shoved him down and chained him there like a dog on a lead left to await his owner’s return. The lord stood over him.
“I knew you lied about him not being special. Aspen will be sold. I don’t know who will buy him, and I don’t care what happens to him now. King Taven needs you for something, and you’ll never see Aspen again.”
Oriel hunched against the mast as the lord leaned down.
“I suggest you behave because your new Master won’t be very pleasant. King Taven has recently allowed slavery for criminals, and that goes for war prisoners too, so it’s not against the law for someone to buy and use you as they see fit. No one will care what’s done to you or save you. Your new Master could hang you right in the street as soon as he owns you. Your past as the Crown Prince means nothing now. Traitor.” He spat on Oriel who flinched.
Traitor?
Dear Elira, if King Taven permitted criminals and prisoners to be turned into slaves now, the nastiest people could end up buying the citizens brought here. In general, slavery was considered quite wrong in most Kingdoms, but with something made legal, the worst side of others could come out.
He’d rather his new Master hang him and be done with it.
