Samo closed his eyes and tried to pretend none of them were
there. He was back at home with his
mother, inside the small hut on their farm.
The men shouting bids for him were just bleating goats and neighing
horses. The hot sun on his bare body was
the warmth of a fire, lit from wood gathered by his brothers and arranged by
his father.
His exercise in pretend was successful until he’d been
sold. At that point, his eyes opened and
his head bent to the side to see the man who had bought him. His buyer’s skin was dark, like the inside of
a felled log, which was still much lighter than the coal-black skin of most of
the slaves in the crowd. The man wore a
loose green cloth over his body, and white cloth was balled up over his
head. He had a medium-length dark beard
and light brown eyes.
He spoke to the man who’d been managing Samo up until
that point in a tongue Samo did not comprehend.
He would want to learn it fast, Samo supposed. His master’s voice was hoarse, quiet, and
made it seem as though he spoke only with great pain.
Samo’s former handler guided Samo off of the auction
block and into his new master’s carriage.
There, he sat next to one of the other slaves who had been sold there, a
woman he’d first seen on the raiders’ ship the day he’d been taken. Farther up, he saw a dark-skinned woman.
He turned to the woman next to him, and tried to think of
something to say, if only for the sake of hearing words he could understand
from someone other than that handler. He
couldn’t think of anything, though. He
looked down and closed his eyes again, trying to imagine that the tears hitting
his feet were a gentle rain.
*****
Samo’s muscles ached as he pulled the dull scythe toward
him, his skin seared by the baking sun.
He heaved for air and then fell forward into the wheat he was
harvesting. He closed his eyes. He’d been doing this for seven years. He should be used to it by now.
Samo took a deep breath, grunted and stood back up,
scything a satchel-full of grain. Sweat
leaked from his brow to the ground as he carried the grain he had taken to
growing pile of wheat near the barn
As he walked, Samo heard a horse neigh. He turned to see has master’s carriage
leaving. That was the way to the market,
Samo thought as he heaved. Samo kept
walking toward the growing pile of grain and added his many strands of wheat on
top of it. He turned around.
The grain field was sprawling, stretching far into the
distance, halfway to the horizon. The
whole field was dotted with workers, mostly dark-skinned men and women from
East Africa, with the odd fairer-skinned slave mixed in, and still more rarely,
pale men like Samo himself.
Samo walked toward the field of grain, heaving for air. His eyes widened, and it felt like his lungs
were closing. He looked up at the
sky. It was well past noon, though the
sun’s heat was no more merciful for it.
His work… his work would be done in a few more hours… yes…
Samo felt his face smack against the ground.
*****
Samo awoke on a cot in a room he didn’t recognize at
first. Was this his room? Things weren’t usually so blurry in his
room. Samo blinked as he looked around. He was finally able to make out the vague
shape of a woman standing above him.
“I… Where…”
The blurry image of the woman looked down at him. “Shh,” she said. “It’s okay.”
The world around him slid into focus as Samo held up his
hand to rub his head, but the woman grabbed his arm. “Don’t touch the towels,” she said.
Samo tilted his head.
“Wha… what’s going… what…”
He felt the woman pat him on the stomach. “Shh.
You fell over while you were working.
The heat had gotten to you.”
“I…” Samo still couldn’t see the woman very well, but her
voice was soft and assuring. It made him
relax. He put his hand back down, and
lay his head back on the wet pillow below him.
“How… long…”
“Master has forgiven you for your failure to work,” the
woman said. It was an attempt to dodge
his question, but Samo knew that if Master had come back before he’d woken up,
it must have been several hours. “I even
heard him say a prayer for you.”
Samo sighed. “I
see.” His vision was clearing. He could now make out more about the woman
above him. She had fair skin like
his. Fairer, actually. Years of farming had tanned Samo’s skin. However, unlike Samo, this woman had dark
hair and bright green eyes. She was
dressed in garb that covered her more completely than anything Samo had worn
since before. “Say, who are you?” Samo
asked.
“I’m Georgia,” she said.
“I’ve been looking after you, changing your towels.” Georgia stood up. “That reminds me. I should go get the healer to tell him you’ve
woken up.” She looked down at him. “I’ll be right back.”
Samo nodded. He
closed his eyes and thought. Georgia
must have been a house servant. Perhaps
that’s why he’d not remembered her. He
felt water drip from his head.
Samo’s eyes snapped open as he felt his breath
constrict. He heaved and huffed, but
felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. He
tried to gulp the air down, but couldn’t.
He gripped the sheets on either side of him, trying to force air
in. After a minute or so, he was finally
able to. He took several deep breaths.
About a minute later, Samo heard Georgia and the healer,
a tall dark man with a scraggly grey beard, enter the room. The healer walked to his bedside, where
Georgia had been standing before. He
looked down at him, placing his hand the wet rag on his forehead. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“I…” Samo began.
“I’m… well I er… I’m still hot.”
“We’re all hot,” the healer said.
“No… not like that amount of… hot.”
The healer moved his hand from Samo’s forehead to his
chest. “I see. The man who brought you to me said you
sometimes have trouble breathing.”
“Oh, that? It’s…
it’s nothing…”
The healer shook his head. “I heard you just a moment ago. That was not nothing.” The healer looked down and closed his
eyes. “You never should have been put to
work in the fields at all. How was it
that the healer before me allowed it? I
would have recommended you be kept in the house as soon as I first saw you
spasm.” The healer sighed, changing the
towel on Samo’s stomach. “Regardless of
why it was ever permitted, I’ll council Master to take you out of the fields.”
Samo’s eyes widened.
“Re… really?”
“Yes. How long
have you been having these problems?”
“Since… since I was… since three years ago sir. No wait, four. The physician here then… he was a free
man. He… he didn’t like me. That’s why he allowed it I think.”
The healer took a deep breath. “I see.”
He closed his eyes and shook his head.
“In any case, it’s only a matter of time before you die if you’re made
to labor like that. I’ll advise master
as such. You should either be serving
inside here, or be sold to another owner where you could do such work.” Samo looked away from the healer and at
Georgia, than back. “Hopefully, he’ll
heed my council. If not, may God have
mercy on you.”
Georgia nodded.
“May God have mercy on you.”
Samo leaned back.
He closed his eyes and smiled. It
would be much easier if he didn’t have to work the fields; that much he
admitted. He looked back up at
Georgia. “Inside…” he said. “That’s where you work?”
Georgia nodded.
“Yes.”
Samo smiled. The
healer looked down at him and smiled as well.
He turned to Georgia. “Continue
as you were. Change his towels. Never let them grow hot.”
Georgia nodded.
“Yes, sir.” She looked back down
at Samo as the healer left.
*****
That night, Samo dreamed of Georgia. His dreams did not center on her subtle face,
nor her full breasts, nor her curvy thighs.
Instead, he dreamed that the two of them were at the church where Samo
had gone as a child, reading from the books there.
When he woke up he didn’t realize the dream was over at
first, She was there, sitting patiently,
reading. Samo looked at her. “You can read?” he asked.
Georgia turned around and looked at him. A hint of a smile appeared on her face,
making more than a hint of one appear on Samo’s. “Not well,” Georgia said. “My father was the physician here before the
last one, so he had to be able to, and Master let him teach me on the condition
I read from the Quran at least as much as I read from other books.”
Samo tilted his head.
“Do you?” Samo’s master was a
devout man. It’d been to master’s
frustration that Samo had not yet converted, but since the day of the raid
which had taken him, Samo had not had any faith.
Georgia sighed and sat down. “Just now, I was reading over some instructions
pertaining to making a certain cure.”
“I see. I’ve
always wanted to know how to read.”
Georgia tilted her head.
“Have you, now?”
Samo nodded.
“Yeah. I… when I was younger, and
even now when I can, I’ve always liked to learn things.” When he was a child, Samo had fantasized
about being some kind of scholar, not that that was likely. When he first came down here, he heard about
certain Arabic universities. Until he
was about fourteen, he used to dream about someday escaping and going to one.
“I might see if Master will stop me from showing you a
bit.”
Samo beamed.
“Really?”
Georgia nodded.
“Really. Oh, that reminds me;
Master heeded the healer’s council. He
will let you be servant to one of his sons.”
Samo tilted his head.
“Who?”
“Ayman,” Georgia said.
“His thirdborn. He’s to turn
thirteen during the moon after next. He
was go be given a slave then, but master decided to give you to him now instead. He’s been waited on his whole life, of
course, but you’ll be the first slave to be especially his.”
“I see.” Samo’s
eyes looked down a bit, and he took a deep breath. He lay back.
“When will I begin working?”
“Tomorrow. The
healer believes you’ll be well enough to work by then. Can you sit up?”
Samo moved his arms and legs a bit, to see how mobile he
was. “I think I might be able to,” he
said. He placed his hands flat against
the bed and flexed the muscles in his stomach.
He grunted, but he rose. He took
a few deep breaths. His eyes
widened. He thought it might be an
attack. He felt his breath constricting,
but then it stopped. He turned to
Georgia and saw her looking at him, bug eyed.
“False alarm,” Samo said.
She didn’t seem relaxed as she placed her hand on
him. He smiled. He took his arm away from the hand and took
it into his. She looked down at the
hand, and then up at him. “You say
you’ve always wanted to read. How much
do you know of how?”
“I’ve seen words,” Samo said. “I don’t know how the shapes move into
sounds.”
Georgia looked at him, and then down at the document
she’d been reading. She got up and sat
next to him on the bed, holding the scroll in front of him. “You see this shape here?” she said, pointing
to one of the squiggles on the page.
Samo looked down at it.
“The one that looks kind of like a scythe?” Samo asked.
“Yes,” Georgia said.
She moved her finger to a different place on the page. “Now, do you see this here?”
“Yeah,” Samo said.
“It’s the same shape.”
“Exactly,” Georgia said.
“That shape is called a laam. It
represents the ‘Lla’ sound.” She looked
at him. “And that’s how all of the
sounds work.” She looked back at the
scroll and pointed to a different shape.
“This shape represents the ‘Rra’ sound, and this one is the ‘Sha’
sound. Every sound has a shape, and the
words are made by taking the sequence of sounds for the word you want to write
and putting the shapes for those sounds next to each other in order.” Samo looked at the scroll, looking for more
shapes he could see in more than one place.
“There are basically twenty-eight shapes,” she said. “It’s a little more complicated than that of
course, but that’s the basics of it. To
learn to read, all you have to do is memorize which sounds go with which letters.”
Samo looked down at the page. “I… I think I can do that.”
“Most can,” Georgia said, smiling.
Samo stared at the page.
It was still an enigma of squiggles to him, but for the first time, he
was beginning to truly believe it might be more someday.
Georgia stood up, taking the scroll away from Samo. “For now,” she said, “I need to sort this, and
then I should change your rags.”
Samo looked at her.
“Right,” he said.
*****
Samo sought out Georgia as soon as Ayman’s daily
schoolings began. The boy did not need
to be attended during such lessons, and so Samo was free to speak with her.
When Samo reached the medicine room where Georgia worked,
he took a deep breath outside the door.
When he entered, however, he was greeted by a smile. Samo smiled back. “Hello,” Georgia said as Samo closed the door
behind him.
“Hey,” Samo said.
“Are you free?”
“I can talk,” Georgia said. “I need to crush these leaves.” She put some leaves in a weird bowl and
started crushing them with a stick thing.
Samo sat down. “How is the boy?”
Georgia asked.
“As you would expect,” Samo said. “And I mean that in the negative sense.”
“Ooh,” Georgia said.
“Yeah,” Samo said.
“I mean, he’s not … that
bad. He’s just young, and spoiled as any
child of his wealth would be.”
“I see,” Georgia said.
Samo looked down. He
thought. He looked back up. “Hey, Georgia?” he said.
“Yes?”
“Yesterday, you said that Master had allowed you to learn
to read so long as you read the Quran at least as much as you read other
books.”
She nodded. “Yes?”
“I asked you if you did.
I… I don’t remember what you said.”
Georgia looked at Samo.
She sighed. “I’d say I read it
about half as much.”
“Oh. I see.” Samo smiled.
He was happy to learn that she wasn’t devout. “Are you--”
“No.”
“I see.” That made
Samo smile even wider. He sat back in
his chair. “I’m sorry to ask such
difficult questions.”
Georgia looked up at him.
“Oh, it’s fine.” She smiled. “When does Ayman retire for sleep?”
“One hour earlier than Master. Why?”
“He won’t require you then, correct?”
“He won’t.”
“Good.” Georgia
looked down at her bowl of now thoroughly crushed leaves. She dumped the powder into a jar. “I spoke to master about teaching you reading,
and he did not object. I’m given no
other duties at that time in case I’m needed to assist in some medical
emergency. Unless such a thing occurs, I
will be free. Come down here and I may
teach you.”
Samo beamed. “I
will,” he said. “I most definitely
will.”
Georgia smiled. “I
am glad to hear it.” She put another
bunch of leaves into the bowl and crushed them.
“I am still practicing the craft myself, but I look forward to teaching
you.”
*****
Samo looked down at the scroll in his hand as he sat
waiting for Georgia to arrive, if she would.
Ayman’s fifteenth birthday had been a difficult affair. Beyond the fact that the boy was as immature
as he had been when Samo had first been given to him, (perhaps it was from
shouting at him to behave that his master’s voice had grown hoarse), another
slave, a dark skinned woman, had collapsed in shakings while cutting
bread. Georgia had announced that the
wound on the woman’s arm was not likely to be fatal as soon as she saw it, but
it still required attention. She had
later told him to wait and practice where they typically did while she helped
the old healer to clean the woman’s wound.
Samo squinted a bit, muttering the words to himself as he
read.
“Every soul will taste of death. And you will be paid your reward fully on the
Resurrection Day. Then whoever is
removed far from the Fire and is made to enter the Garden, he indeed attains
the object. And the life of this world
is nothing but a provision of vanities.”
Samo looked up at the door as he heard Georgia enter the
room. He put the scroll down and looked
up at her, smiling.
She looked back down at him, smiling too. “The healer dismissed me,” she said. “He retired himself as well. The woman’s wound will be monitored, but he
does not expect it to become infected.”
“That’s good,” Samo said.
“He has commented on the degree of time we spend
together,” she said. “The healer, I
mean. He says there are rumors that we’re
fornicating.”
Samo looked at Georgia.
He stood up and drew close to her, touching her waist. She smiled and held him in the same
place. “We are not,” Samo said. He had wanted to, but he had known such a
thing would be imprudent. It was only
for a free man to violate a slave outside of marriage. Samo would be punished fiercely for it, and
Georgia’s fate would be still worse.
“Yes, but if master comes to believe otherwise, it would
be dire.”
“I see.” Samo
looked down at his feet. He gripped
Georgia’s sides with either hand.
“There is a solution, however.”
Samo looked up at Georgia, eyes wide. “What?”
Georgia smiled. “It
is permissible for a slave to marry, with their master’s permission.”
Samo looked up at Georgia. He smiled, feeling a warm joy overwhelm
him. “Georgia that…” Samo had wanted
such a thing for over a year now. “…I
would love to.” Samo looked at
Georgia. He hugged her. She hugged him back.
“Would Ayman consent to it?” Georgia asked.
“Most likely,” Samo said.
“I think if we asked them, he and master both would be thinking about
little slaves we would make for them, who would be a part of their wealth.”
Georgia looked down even as she hugged Samo. “Little slaves…” she pulled away and looked
him in the eye. “Is that something you
want to give them?”
Samo looked down, smiling, crying with joy. “With you, I do.” He hugged her, squeezing her tight, his face
on her soft, firm, full breasts. “I love
you, Georgia. I have loved you for two
years. Free or slave, our love should
bear children. I would not mind that
shackles swing from my wrists forever if you were there with me.”
Georgia let out a noise that was half a joyful sob and
half a giggle. “Your argument is
persuasive. I will speak to master of
it. Perhaps you could speak to Ayman as
well. If they allow it, we will plan to
wed shortly.”
Samo looked up at Georgia. “Yes,” he nodded. He sat back down, next to her. “Yes, I would love that. I shall speak to him.” Samo’s heart beat with joy as he held her
close.
*****
Ayman had said yes.
Samo beamed. Ayman had said
yes. It had been as Samo expected, but
his joy nonetheless flew to the distant stars when it was confirmed to him.
He entered the room where he and Georgia met every
day. He saw her sitting, mixing some
powders for an herbal remedy. She turned
to look up at him when she heard him enter, and he saw her eyes. Instantly he knew, and what had once been his
joy fell back to the earth. Still, he
asked. “Did master…”
“No.”
Samo looked down.
He closed the door. Perhaps it
had been too much to expect. He looked
up at her. “I see.” He sat next to her. “Did he say why?” It wasn’t all that common, truth be told, for
a house servant to marry.
Georgia shed a tear.
She nodded. “Yes, he said why.”
“Why?”
Georgia looked away.
Samo looked up at her. He placed
his hand on her thigh. “Georgia--”
“I’m to be sold.”
Samo sat back. His
eyes went wide as he looked up at her, her head still turned away from him.
“Master said I had become experienced enough in the
healing arts to be sold to another house for a high price.” She looked down. Samo heard her sobbing. “I asked if you could be sold too, but he
said Ayman would never consent to that.”
That was the truth, Samo knew.
Samo turned away from her and looked down at his feet. Tears fell from his eyes and splashed onto
the wooden floor below. He clenched his
fist, balling a bunch of his clothing in it.
He seethed, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
He turned to Georgia and hugged her from behind, wrapping
his arms around her stomach. She folded
her hands on his. Samo closed his eyes
and looked down.
*****
Samo lay in his quarters, on his side, his eyes wide
open. He looked at the blank wall across
from him, mere feet away. His pillow was
wet with tears. He looked at the wall,
and then down at the wooden floor below it.
Samo tilted his head.
His eyes widened. How on earth
did that get there?
On the floor, there was an object. It was a book, Samo realized. It was the biggest book Samo had ever
seen. It was dark blue, but with a
silver skull on its cover.
Samo stood up from his bed. He looked down at the object. What was it?
He hadn’t seen it around the house before but… oh crap! It looked really
valuable. It probably was something from
somewhere around the manor, or else maybe something a guest left behind. If someone came in here and saw it, they’d
think Samo had stolen it!
Samo leaned down and picked up the book. He needed to put it back where it belonged,
wherever that was, before anyone saw him with it. Samo felt himself breathing heavily. He took the book under his arm. If he was to learn where it went so he could
put it back, he had best read it. He
left his quarters and took it downstairs to the first room he could think of
where he knew there was a candle and where no one would be: the medical room,
where he used to meet with Georgia.
Samo carried the book to that room. It was the middle of the night, so he was
able to move about undisturbed. When he
reached the room, he sat down and, with a little effort, lit the candle next to
him. He opened the book to its first
page, hoping to find a title, or perhaps an owner’s name.
There was nothing on the inside cover, but the first page
had some text written on it.
“On
Soulless Ones”
On Soulless Ones?
That was a strange… it didn’t matter.
Samo thought. This clearly wasn’t
a medical text. Perhaps it was a
religious text? Samo turned the
page. Maybe there was more information.
“I A description of the soulless
ones.
“II On the process of becoming a
soulless one.
“III On the spells common to all
soulless ones.
“IV On the spells unique to one
or some soulless ones.
“V On the other properties
unique to one or some soulless ones.
“VI A list of soulless ones.
“VII Questions and answers.
“VIII Glossary.”
Samo looked
down at the page. He’d seen tables of
contents in a few books before, but they always had page numbers next to
them. Wasn’t that the whole point?
It didn’t
matter. Samo turned the page. He wanted to see what this book was so he
could figure out where he needed to put it.
“This tome is a collection of
facts about the soulless ones, undead beings of supreme magical power. The object you hold in your hand is not the
tome itself, but a gateway to it. By
turning the page with any intent, you summon to you the page you wish to see
among the countless pages making up the actual tome. In addition, you may turn to the Q&A
section and write in a question directly.
If the answer to your question pertains to this book’s domain, it will
be provided to you.”
Samo tilted
his head. What in the world could this
be? He was confident that magic did not
exist. Still, who would orchestrate a
joke like this? This book was covered in
giant blue gems. It was absurd to
imagine someone spending that much money on a joke… or indeed, on any book. Despite himself, Samo turned the page,
specifically intending to see that Q&A section.
He saw
it. He gasped. Two boxes, with a feather quill next to them. He picked the quill up. His hand shook. He’d never actually written before, he
realized. Still, he tried to hold the
quill firmly and form the letters.
“How did this book end up in my
room?”
“This tome is sent from the
Underworld to those who it is believed will be most likely to make use of it,
and in ways which will accomplish the ends of whichever actor in the underworld
sent it. In your case, as in most, that
actor was the Underworld itself.”
Samo’s eyes
were wide. The book had responded… and
it was for him. Keeping out of trouble
was still on his mind, but his curiosity had now been peaked. Samo picked up the quill again.
“What does one use
this book for?”
“Primarily, to become a soulless
one. After that, to learn about other soulless
ones.”
“What is a soulless
one?”
“Please turn the
page for the beginning of this tome’s explanation.”
Samo took a
deep breath and did.
“I A description of the soulless
ones.
“Soulless ones are those who
have, through magic, cast their spirits into objects in order to gain the power
to accomplish their dreams. They walk
among mortals in the forms they once knew, but must reveal their true forms,
those of dead and deathly creatures, in order to cast their magic...”
Samo
thought. Accomplishing one’s
dreams. That was what the book had been
sent here to do for him. He wanted to
marry Georgia. He wanted to have
children with her. He wanted to spend
the rest of time with her. Plus, if he
could have whatever he wanted… he still wanted to run away to those
universities he knew about. He would
leave this place. He would learn with
her, forever. Perhaps she would become a
soulless one too. Yes, that was what he
wanted. Samo turned the page.
“…which they must
do regularly, as they must sustain themselves on the souls of the living, which
only magic can scythe. Such devoured
souls are the method by which soulless ones increase in power. They are not destroyed, but rather, they
linger with and serve the lich who ate them.
It is by commanding these that soulless ones animate the dead.”
Samo’s eyes
widened. He read that paragraph a few
times. He looked down. That… was awful.
Samo closed
the book, but then opened it again. He
thought, and then he clenched his fist.
The people who wanted to sell Georgia like a piece of cattle were
awful. The man who’d nearly worked him
to death in the fields was awful. The
men who were working the slaves serving right now were awful. He’d seen the states many of the slaves had
been reduced to. Georgia had told him
stories of the worst things she’d seen.
There were plenty of estates just like his throughout the world. There were plenty of wicked men and women who
deserved no better than what that book had just described. Indeed, it was a rich irony.
Samo needed
little more convincing. He turned the
page, willing to see how to become a soulless one.
“II On the process of becoming a
soulless one.
“If one wishes to join the ranks
of the soulless ones, one must first consider carefully if this is truly what
they wish to do.”
It was.
“Many have cast out their souls,
and the vast majority of them come to regret it later. To give up life, and yet remain in this world
indefinitely, is no small prospect, and you should remember that whatever it is
you seek to preserve will nonetheless parish eventually, and you may still yet
have to live without it.”
Not if he
could convince Georgia to become a soulless one like him. He knew she loved him like he loved her, so that
should be no trouble.
“If you are sure it is what you
desire, the process of becoming a lich is not very difficult. You need merely place the object into which
you desire to place your soul, called a phylactery, on the blank page at the end
of this section, and then say the incantation on the page next to it. Once you do this, there will be no going
back.”
Samo turned
the page. He saw the incantation, and
the blank page next to it. He looked up
from the page for an object he could put his soul into. He saw a feather quill on the table. He smiled.
It was symbolic of his intentions, he supposed. He picked it up and put it on the page,
before reading the incantation. “I call
upon the power of the Underworld to cast my soul into this object, so I may
become a being of death, disease and decay.”
Samo immediately felt nauseous.
He bent down and opened his mouth.
Nothing came out. He heaved
again, and again, hard, as his body fought to reject something deeply lodged in
him.
When his
soul finally flew out of his mouth, he saw through its eyes as he flew into the
quill. His body was hunched over limp
when he re-entered it.
Samo took a
few deep, shocked breaths as he sat up straighter. He smiled.
He looked down at the book and laughed, trying to keep from doing so too
loudly. He opened the book back up to
see precisely what powers he had. He saw
a page of information about himself.
“Bavandersloth
“A lich of knowledge. An angry lich. He thirsts for understanding, of the universe
around him. He has been oppressed for
most of his life, and intends to take revenge on those responsible.”
“Soul Count: 0
“Unique Powers:
The moving of decay on written material, the moving of the false beliefs of
mortals, the theft of knowledge from both the living and the dead, and the
implantation of false beliefs in mortals.”
Samo
smiled. Those really were the skills
he’d want if he was to learn with Georgia forever.
Samo stood
up, carrying the book with him, straight to his master’s chamber.
The door was
unguarded. Samo did feel the slightest
guilt over what he was about to do, but it vanished as soon as he opened the
door and saw a young dark-skinned slave girl in master’s bed. Samo shut the door behind him.
He had shut
it too loudly, he realized, because both Samo’s master and the woman woke up.
They both
looked at him with confusion for a moment, the slave girl more so, as she did
not recognize Samo, whereas Samo’s master clearly did. The old man’s eyes were wide as he looked up
and down Samo. He could see Samo’s
intent on his face. “Help!” he cried, in
his hoarse voice. Samo grinned and
shifted into his true form. His cry was
far too quiet for anyone to hear.
Samo’s
master screamed as soon as he saw Samo’s true form. Samo looked his master in the eye, as the
slave on the bed next to him shuddered and shivered. A sweet, floral smell came from both of them,
one which made Samo salivate.
Samo held
out his hand. He’d start out by using
his power. “There’s no one who would
come for you,” he said.
His master’s
eyes widened. He stood up from the
bed. He ran toward Samo. Samo grinned.
“That’s a bad idea,” he said. His
master stopped moving. Samo smiled. Countless whippings he’d received came back
to his mind. Orders he’d received,
either from this man, or from those this man had ordered.
Samo turned
to the slave still shuddering in the bed.
As sweet as her fear smelled, he felt sorry for her. “You have nothing to be afraid of,” he
said. She calmed down a bit, but not
completely. Merely believing that you
had nothing to be afraid of did not by itself eliminate fear. “You should come here and take my hand,” Samo
said.
The woman
stood up. Samo’s master was crying and pleading
for mercy in the corner. He would soon
be given the mercy he deserved, the same he had given Samo. The woman reached Samo and put her hand in
his. He inflicted her with a head injury
to knock her unconscious. It would last
only for a few hours, and cause no permanent damage. There was no need for her to see what was
about to happen.
Samo turned
to his master. The scent of the man’s
fear grew. Samo took a deep breath,
inhaling the intoxicating aroma.
“S… Sss…
Samo,” his master said. “I… please, you
must understand, I did not wish to sell her to spite you, and I have changed my
mind! Georgia… you and Georgia, I free
you both, right now! Simply do not harm
me or my family--”
Bavandersloth
smiled. “It’s too late for that.”
His master’s
eyes widened. “Wh… what?”
Bavandersloth
stepped across the room, slowly, savoring the moment as he approached his
master. “I loved her. I think you knew that. I wanted to start a family with her. A small family, just the two of us and some
children, and I was content with the prospect of this family serving yours for
as long as it lived.” Bavandersloth
reached his master and stood over his slouching form. Bavandersloth smirked. “But you didn’t care about that. You cared not for my love for her, nor her
love for me.” Bavandersloth grabbed the
man by the neck of his garment and pulled him up, lifting him off the ground
and looking him in the eye. “You took
that family away from me,” Bavandersloth activated his power, “so I took yours
away from you.”
Bavandersloth’s
master cried. “N… Noo… Nooo…” He looked down. A shower of tears fell from his eyes.
“Yes,” he
said. “I went door to door, cursing
them. As you can see, I’ve acquired some
demonic powers, and I damned them all.
All of your wives, your children, even your littlest baby, they rot in
hell now.”
Bavandersloth’s
master struggled and wept. Bavandersloth
put his finger to the man’s neck and made a gash run down his back, like a dull
claw-mark, making the man scream in pain.
Bavandersloth slashed the man’s vocal cords as well. Hoarse voice or no, it was still possible his
screaming would eventually wake someone up.
“Everyone
and everything you love will suffer forever now, in a manner graver than God
himself could devise for you. And now,
you will join them. I’ll put you too far
away to contact them, too far away to comfort them, too far away to love them,
but just close enough to hear them scream.”
Bavandersloth ripped open three more gashes on the man.
The Soulless
One inhaled the scent of the man’s fear.
Implausible as they were, this man truly, in his heart, believed every
word he was saying. Good. Bavandersloth had only a few minutes, so for
justice to be achieved, all of the suffering, all of the pain, all of the ripped
apart families, all of the dead and exhausted workers, the punishment for all
of that needed to be contained in just these few minutes.
With his
thoughts, he broke the bonds holding the man’s skin to his body, flaying him
slowly. He started with the man’s
finders, pulling the skin off each one like the edge of a glove, and then moved
up each arm. He couldn’t work as slowly
as he would have liked, as he didn’t want the man to die. Still, the man’s face seemed as though he was
in incomprehensible pain.
As
Bavandersloth pulled the man’s skin from his arms, and then torso, and worked
his way both up to his head and down to his legs, he heard a low, impotent
moan, the vain attempt of a man without a throat to scream in agony. Tears overflowed in the man’s eyes, until
Bavandersloth flayed the nearby skin away from them and blood poured onto his
pupils.
Finally,
when Bavandersloth sensed the life draining from the man, he willed the scythe
to appear in his hand, and it did. He
plunged it into the wailing creature’s torso, just as he did when he harvested
grain for him. He ripped the soul out
and put it in his mouth.
As he
chewed, he moaned with pleasure at the soul’s meaty taste. He closed his eyes, savoring its flavor,
before finally gulping the thing down.
Bavandersloth
took a deep breath. He thought. If he left the body there, it would horrify
all who heard of it. He and Georgia
would be searched for no matter what, but perhaps their pursuers would be more
dedicated if they saw what was left of the slaver. As delicious as their fear would be, it would
not be the best thing for Bavandersloth pragmatically.
However,
there was a flip side to that. Fear
might keep make it so no man was willing to chase after them. Indeed, that might be the best thing. Bavandersloth turned around and left the
corpse as it was, walking away.
When he
reached the slave girl, he picked her up and set her down outside of the
room. Hopefully, she wouldn’t see his
handiwork. There was no need for her to
be so scarred.
Bavandersloth
took his disguised form and headed to Georgia’s room, stopping at a basin to
clean himself a little. With the book
from before still under his arm, he entered her sleeping chamber to awaken her.
He shook
her. “Georgia,” he said. “Georgia.
Georgia, wake up.”
She did,
groggily looking up at him. “Wha… what
is it?”
“We need to
go.”
“What?”
“I said we
need to go, now.”
“You… Samo,
no. An escape attempt is… what is that
you have under your arm… wait, why do you have blood on your face.” Georgia gasped and looked up at
Bavandersloth, bug-eyed. “Samo, what did
you do?”
“I’ll
explain later. Right now, we need to
go.” He took his true form, causing her
to reel back. “I promise you we’ll
escape. I love you, Georgia. Please, I need you to trust me.”
Georgia
looked at him, and then down at the floor, before standing up and taking his
hand. He lifted her up in his arms and
ran away with her.
1 comment:
good chapter! THANKS!
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