Death and Honor: Book 2 of 2

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© 2015 by James E. Wisher

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X
ander came screaming to consciousness
. Flames seared the right side of his face. He jerked his head away and slammed into the opposite side of the crawlspace. Xander groaned, breathed in a lung full of air and hacked it back out. Through the smoke and flames he saw the opening. He needed to get out before he backed like the tarts he so enjoyed stealing. Coughing, lungs burning, Xander crawled forward, his whole body shouting as the flames roasted him. With a final heave Xander slid out of the crawlspace into the open.

He lay on his back, breathing, relishing the fresh air. A crash brought him to his senses. The roof of the house had collapsed. Fresh pain hit him, the world spun, and went dark.

T
he world shook and rattled
. Xander found hard, wooden planks under his fingers. With every bounce fresh pain flared, the right side of his face hurt the worst. Xander groaned and opened his eyes. A pair of liquid brown eyes looked back at him. In the dim light a girl with dusky skin and long black hair bent over him. She smiled and her teeth sparkled in the meager light.

Xander winced when they bounced again his face protesting the rough treatment. When he reached up to touch his face the girl held his wrist.

She shook her head. “Is it hurting again?”

Xander tried to speak but found he had no voice. A second attempt to gasp out something met with no better success. He pointed to his throat.

“Thirsty?”

Xander nodded. The girl helped him sit up, the process sending fresh spasms of pain through his aching body. The girl reached behind her, brought forward a wooden cup, and held it to his lips. The lukewarm water tasted better than any juice he’d ever drank. Xander coughed and sputtered. The girl took the cup away.

“Thank you.” He managed a horse rasp. Xander swallowed and tried again. “My voice?” It sounded no better this time.

She brought out a cloth and pressed it to the right side of his face. The pain flared then faded. “I’m afraid your voice may never recover fully. Your throat was damaged by all the smoke you breathed in.”

“Where are we?”

“In a wagon headed south. Look around and you will see you’re in a cage. You’re a slave now, like me and the others.”

“Slave?” He didn’t understand. “How, how did this happen? My family, my brother and Mother and Father. Are they slaves as well?”

“We found you lying on the ground near a burned out building. There was no one else. Master Hess saw you still lived and thought you may be of value. He ordered me to take care of you. That was two days ago.”

“No.” Mother, Father, Gabriel, they might all be dead. They couldn’t be. Tears rolled down his cheeks. His family wouldn’t have let him be taken if they’d survived whatever happened to their home. He was alone.

Xander’s body shook as he cried. The girl’s hand stroked his back. Soon exhaustion overcame him and he slept.

When he woke it was dark, so dark his hand wasn’t visible six inches in front of his face. “Hello?” His voice sounded better though still just a scratchy whisper.

“You’re awake, good.” The girl pressed a bowl into his hands. “I saved some food.”

“Thank you.” Now that she mentioned food he found he was hungry, ravenous more like.

“Don’t eat too fast or you’ll get sick.”

Xander almost cried again. That’s what his mother would have said. Xander scowled and forced the pain away. He wouldn’t accomplish anything if he cried like a baby whenever anything reminded him of his family. And he would accomplish something. First he’d escape the slaver then he’d find whoever killed his family and make them suffer before killing them.

Xander didn’t have a spoon, so he dipped two fingers into the bowl and found some sort of warm mush. He put a small dollop in his mouth. Unsweetened oatmeal, not the tastiest meal, but hungry as he was it tasted pretty good. When he’d eaten everything he could get Xander licked his fingers clean. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You should sleep now; it will help you heal more than anything.”

“Wait, please, what’s your name?”

“Sophia.”

“Sophia.” Xander tried the name out and found he liked it. “That’s pretty. I’m Xander. Why are you taking care of me?”

“My mother was an herbalist before she died and my uncle sold me to Master Hess. I learned a lot about healing from her. Master Hess orders me to take care of his slaves, keep them healthy. There’s no market for dead slaves after all.”

“I suppose not.” What was he thinking? Of course the only reason she was looking after him was because someone told her to, they were complete strangers.

“I would have looked after you anyway. I can’t stand to see someone in pain. Sleep now. Other than your face you seem in fair shape. Master Hess will probably put you in with the others tomorrow. You will need all your strength.”

“Okay, good night.” Xander rolled over on his left side, but found sleep slow in coming.

T
he clang
of metal on metal jolted Xander awake. “Up, damn you!” Roared a harsh, deep voice.

Xander sat up and looked around in the bright morning light. Before he managed to do anything a huge hand closed over his ankle and jerked him out of the cage. He landed on the ground with a dull thud. Clenching his teeth against the pain, Xander looked up at the mountain of flesh towering over him. The man had a thick beard and beady black eyes sunk so deep into his fat face Xander just made them out. On his head sat a round hat made of cloth wrapped around and around.

“On your feet!” The fat man kicked Xander in the ribs when he didn’t jump up at once. Xander grunted and clambered to his feet.

Four other kids, three boys and a girl, stood beside the wagons in a clearing surrounded by trees. Sophia stood apart, perhaps five strides away. Xander started to go to her, but the little girl grabbed his pant leg and shook her head. He looked down at her and she shied away. Xander grazed his fingers across the scarred side of his face and hissed. He’d get that reaction a lot from now on so he’d best get used to it.

“My name is Donovan Hess,” the fat man said. “You mongrels will call me Master. You lot are slaves and I own you. Those that have been with me for a few weeks have heard this speech but for the benefit of new arrivals I will give it again. The rules are simple. What I say, you do. Any hesitation will be punished.” Hess shot Xander a pointed glare. “Anyone that tries to run away will be beaten, along with another slave. Keep that in mind should you notice anyone trying to escape. Obedience will be rewarded with regular food and exercise. You have one hour before we move on.”

Hess turned his back and went to sit on the second wagon bench beside a pale man with heavy brows and a dull look in his eyes. On the ground near the wagon sat a pair of tan mastiffs wearing spiked leather collars. The other children ran around the clearing playing tag, but Xander went over to talk to Sophia.

Up close in the light he saw her bronze skin was flawless and smooth as porcelain. They were the same height, but he figured she was a few years older. Sophia hugged herself and seemed to shrink down, like she wanted to hide. With her wide, bright eyes the effect was one of absolute terror.

“Why do you stay apart from us?”

Sophia sighed and his heart broke. Xander had never seen anyone so thoroughly miserable. “Unlike the rest of you I won’t be sold at the southern slave market. I am Master Hess’s personal slave. He has owned me for four years.”

“Why don’t you run away? You must have had chances.”

Sophia turned over her arms to show him scores of thin, white scars. “I tried to run away several times, but he caught me with those awful dogs. As punishment he cut me.”

Furry filled Xander. How would anyone treat such a sweet, beautiful girl so badly?

“You should go play with the others; He doesn’t like it if I spend too much time with the other slaves.”

“I don’t care if he likes it or not.”

“Please.” The plaintive note in her voice tore at Xander’s heart. “It won’t be you he punishes, but me. We can talk more later. Please.”

Xander couldn’t have said anything if he wanted, he was so angry. He walked away, over to where the other kids ran around.

The little girl had blond pig tails and bright blue eyes. She ran up to him. “Want to play?”

“What’s the game?”

“Tag, we don’t have toys or balls so this is all we can do. After being trapped in that cage it’s nice to run around.”

“It does feel good to stretch my legs. Okay, who’s it?”

The girl grinned. “Me, tag you’re it.” She smacked him on the leg and took off.

Sneaky little thing. Xander ran after her, the other kids scattered around the clearing. He ran around after them for a few minutes before his legs went weak and he started coughing. He hadn’t recovered as much as he thought. The kids kept a wary eye on him, suspecting a trick. Xander wished it was a trick. He dropped top one knee, gasping for air. His lungs hadn’t healed yet.

The little girl approached him. “Are you okay?”

“Still weak I guess. I’ll have to sit the rest of the game out.” He touched her on the shoulder. “Tag, you’re it.”

Xander sat in the grass and tried with all his might to draw a full breath. Sophia ran over and pressed her ear to his chest. She listened for a few seconds then ran over to Hess. He didn’t hear what she said, but he handed her a satchel and she ran back to him. She mixed a fine yellow power with a little water in a wooden cup. “Drink this.”

Xander took the cup and gulped the bitter slurry down. In moments his lungs cleared and his breath came easier. “Thanks.” He got to his feet. “What was that stuff?”

“Powdered yellow root. It’s a powerful healing agent, but it works better on internal injuries than external ones. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for your face.”

“You saved my life. I’ve got no complaints.”

They stood together watching the other kids play. Only a few minutes passed when Hess shouted, “That’s enough for today. Back in your cages.”

The kids stopped playing at once and trudged back to the wagons. Hess shoved Xander into the same cage as before along with a stocky boy about his age and the little girl that tricked him at tag. He didn’t like being separated from Sophia, but saw no way to avoid it.

The door slammed shut and the wagons rattled down the road. With nothing better to do Xander turned to the little girl. “So what’s your name?”

The girl shied away. Xander didn’t know if she feared him or the situation. “It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. I’m Xander.”

She looked up at him and he smiled. The right side of his face didn’t move. “I’m Mary. Does that hurt?”

He nodded. “How did you get caught?”

Mary relaxed and leaned against him. “My Mama sent me out to find a lamb that wandered into the woods near our farm. I got turned around and came out on the road a few miles from my house. I was walking back when that bad man’s wagon showed up and he grabbed me and threw me in here.”

“I’m sorry. How long ago was that?”

“About two weeks.”

Xander turned to the boy. “How about you?”

“None of your business, scar face.”

“Don’t mind him,” Mary said. “He’s always in a bad mood. He’s been here longer than any of us except Sophia. What about you?”

Xander told her about the bandits and the fire. “When I woke up I was in a cage and Sophia was taking care of me. Since a slaver rescued me instead of my family I must assume they didn’t survive. When I find out who did it I will find them and make them regret the day they were born.”

The boy snorted. “Fat chance of that where we’re going. With a face like yours you’ll end as a gladiator and die in the arena.”

“You seem to know a lot about what’s to happen to us,” Xander said.

“Sometimes at night I hear the fat sack of shit talking to the moron. I don’t know why. All the moron ever says is ‘yes, sir’.”

“What other fates might wait for us?” Xander asked.

“Best not to think about it,” Mary said.

The boy rolled over on his back and threw his arm over his eyes. “Girl’s right, some of the stuff I heard would make you sick.”

Xander sat up against the bars and tried to follow their advice. The wagon rattled along at the same slow, steady pace. When the wagon stopped Xander didn’t know how much time had passed, but the sun hadn’t set so not more than a few hours. The tarp covering the cage flipped up and the dimwitted man stood beside the cage, bowls of greasy soup on a tray in front of him. He passed out a bowl to each of them along with blunt wooden spoons. He leered at Mary when he handed her a bowl and she shied away.

Xander accepted his bowl, some pieces of gray meat floated on the surface. The boy slurped his down like a starving wolf. Xander took a spoonful and gagged. No wonder the boy ate it so fast; there was no other way to get it down. He swallowed five quick spoonfuls then paused to be sure they’d stay down. When he was confident he wouldn’t throw up, he ate a few more bites.

Xander had the bowl about half empty when the boy said, “I’m still hungry. Give me what you have left.”

“No, nasty as it is I think I’ll finish it.”

“Wrong, scar face. You give it here or I’ll pound you until you wish you had.”

Xander blinked, taken aback by the resemblance between this bully and Morgrin. Both expected to be obeyed the instant they spoke though for different reasons. Anger blossomed in Xander’s chest. After everything he’d been through now he had to put up this idiot boy trying to take what passed for a meal from him. It was too much.

He set his bowl down and slid it away. “If you want it, come and get it.”

The boy lunged and tackled Xander, driving him against the bars. “You’re going to regret that.” He punched Xander in the ribs.

Xander grunted and drove his elbow into the bigger boy’s back to little effect. He’d lost too much strength. The boy squeezed his stomach so he couldn’t draw a breath. I’m sorry Father. Xander grouped around until he found his opponent’s forehead then he jammed his thumb into his opponent’s eye up to the first knuckle.

The boy fell back, screaming, a hand over his ruined eye. Xander gathered himself, grabbed a hold of the bars, and kicked out with both feet, catching the bigger boy in the chest. He slammed back into the bars and slumped down to the floor, unmoving.