The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  * * *

  The next morning the slaves were awaken to a flurry of activity. Immediately they knew something had changed. The slavers were riding back and forth into camp, speaking in hushed whispers. Finally Elvert strode among the captives, removing leg shackles and demanding that they stay silent. They were informed that to make noise now would be a death sentence.

  Aiden listened to every snatch of conversation he heard. He watched the almost frenzied movements of the slavers through the camp, the hushed dismantling and packing away of everything. Something was wrong and it was just the sort of something that whispered escape to the previous King.

  Pulling Le close, he whispered to the boy to remain alert. Then he insisted the boy relay this information to Naia. Naia and Le bristled with excitement and Aiden knew he could count on them to react when he commanded. His keen eye surveyed the rest of the group. If only they weren’t all banded together. The other slaves were too doe-eyed and Aiden knew they’d only be a hindrance during an escape attempt.

  Somehow he had to get himself, Naia and Le separated from the others. It never occurred to Aiden to leave either of them. If the opportunity was particularly good, Aiden intended to set all the slaves free, but Naia and Le came first, even before himself.

  Finally Duard reined into camp, his mount lathered and frothing around the bit. The bearded man sawed back on the reins, driving the beast right at Aiden. The other slaves drew back, cowering, even Le hid behind Aiden’s back, but both Aiden and Naia met his approach unflinchingly.

  Duard’s eyes passed between the two of them, a grim smile hardening his mouth. “Seems I should have finished you a long while ago. Now it’ll have to wait until we reach my stronghold, a good two days march away. But be warned. You’re a doomed man.”

  Aiden regarded him. It was difficult to muster any pride when you were filthy and half-starved, but he managed to put even Duard’s cocky assurance to shame. “You look like a hare run to ground by a fox, Duard.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed and then he smiled his colder-than-winter smile. “If I’m a hare, Your Lordship, you’re the gnat on my horse’s ass.”

  “A part of the animal’s anatomy I hear you have very intimate knowledge of, or so your men say.”

  Uncontrolled rage passed over Duard’s face and he pulled the horse’s head around as if he meant to dismount. It was just such an action Aiden had been trying to provoke. If he could get the son-of-a-bitch in his hands, he could force Elvert or Hogan to release him, but at the same moment, Hogan strode forward.

  “Duard, everythin’ ready to move out. Should we set pace?”

  Duard’s gaze remained fixed on Aiden. Aiden felt Naia’s hand slip into the bend of his elbow, a protective, nervous motion, but he refused to break his stare. Finally Duard backed down, jerking the horse about and kicking his heels in the animal’s flanks.

  “Get these animals out of here before Talar Eldralin’s bastard’s all over us.”

  Aiden felt his heart skip.

  At his side he caught Le’s hopeful look. “Did I hear him right?”

  “I believe so. So he is a hare run to ground." But would Kalas be in time? He dropped his gaze to Naia. She was looking at him with a mixture of concern and curiosity. He forced a smile.

  ‘What news?’ He knew her hand signals wove a much more complex sentence, but he could only pick out a few words as yet and he pieced together the rest. It was better than continuously relying on Le to translate. They’d reached a common ground where they could actually carry on a stilted conversation in her language, although Aiden fully intended to converse with her in sign someday.

  ‘Free. Soon. I believe.’ It took him a moment to formulate the right communication, but the effort was worth it. Her eyes lit as much from his attempt as the message. Whenever she gave him that proud look, he felt his heart swell with joy. No matter what the slavers had done to him – taken his kingdom, beaten him, starved him, dehydrated him, or exhausted him, he would always be grateful for the gift he’d discovered in a black haired Nazarien woman. She’d changed his life and he intended to spend the rest of it rewarding her.

  However, the first line of business was to win back their freedom.

  CHAPTER 10

  The next morning Amaroq woke with the dawn, pacing about the room while Nakoda and Shandar fought off their hangovers. Amaroq himself had a bit of a headache, but it wasn’t as bad as the other two felt. Finally they went downstairs for breakfast. All three ate heartily, especially after Shandar dosed three cups of tea with Stamerian to ease their miseries.

  Amaroq figured they should just suffer, since the suffering was self-indulgent, but he wanted to search for his sister and their slowness this morning was grating. After another hour, they made it into the streets.

  Amaroq was immediately beset by the range of emotions all around him. It had been two days in this soup of Human misery and he felt his skin itch. He wasn’t sure how much more he could take, but so far, they’d found out very little about the slave practice.

  Shandar suggested they wade into the crowds hustling back and forth on the board-walked streets. Gritting his teeth, Amaroq followed, even when people bumped into him and jostled him in their mindless hurry to get somewhere...anywhere...nowhere.

  Shandar led them to a granary and offered the younger men’s services bucking the grain bags into the wagons for a few dollars. The foreman accepted, so Nakoda and Amaroq joined a number of other young Human men, loading wagons to be transported to Terra Antiguo. While the younger men labored, Shandar and the foreman, a ruddy-faced man with a bulbous nose, sat in the shade and talked.

  The mindless work allowed Amaroq to forget the broadcast of Human emotions flowing in waves off the men, but he longed to hear what Shandar and the foreman said to each other. Tossing bags of grain into a wagon was not finding his sister.

  At noon, the wagons were loaded and the foremen paid them the money he owed. Amaroq and Nakoda obediently followed Shandar back into the street, but as soon as they were beyond hearing of the foreman, Amaroq grabbed Shandar’s arm, stopping him on the crowded boardwalk.

  “Well?”

  Shandar distributed the bills among the three of them. “He mentioned that he could get free labor, if he was willing to run the risk, but when I questioned him on what he meant, he shut up. He was particularly interested in Nakoda. I wonder if he thought I’d bought him or something.” Shandar gave the huge Nazarien a wry look.

  Nakoda grunted. “I’d have to kill you,” he muttered without emotion.

  “I suppose you would.”

  Amaroq shifted in frustration. “This isn’t getting us anywhere. I hate this place and no one is willing to tell us anything. Eldon knows what’s been done to my sister by now!”

  Shandar put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re getting worked up, Wolf. Calm down!”

  “Calm down! How, Shandar?” He sank his hands into the hair at his temples. “I can feel their desperation, their misery, inside of me. The entire town reeks of it!”

  Shandar cast a sideways look at a couple who were passing on their left. The couple gave Amaroq a strange stare. Amaroq knew he had to control himself, but his heart was hammering and his temples ached.

  “Look at me,” said Shandar, catching him behind the head and forcing their eyes to meet. “You’re getting overwhelmed.”

  “I can’t stay here. I can’t stand it! But I have no choice. We have to find my sister. We have to do something! But we know less than we did when we arrived!”

  “That’s not true. We know the slavers threaten anyone who questions them. We just need to find someone willing to talk. What if we go to the authorities? We can ask them directly.”

  “Why would they tell us anything? We’re Nazarien. Right now the slavers are only capturing Nazarien, not Humans. They won’t want to get involved!”

  “Calm down, Wolf. You don’t know that.”

  Amaroq pushed away from him. “I do. I do know it. None of this is helpi
ng! None of this is getting my sister back!” He banged a fist against his chest. “And it’s killing me!”

  Shandar didn’t look like he knew what to say. Behind him, a door on a shop opened and a tall, thin woman in a plain dress and apron stepped out. Her brown hair was pulled back into a bun and her features were so sharp, they almost looked chiseled.

  “Is everything all right?”

  Shandar glanced at her. “Yes, ma’am, we’re fine.”

  Amaroq paced. People had started moving around him on the boardwalk, alarmed by his outburst. He hardly noticed them, his heart was pounding so hard.

  “Maybe you’d like to come in. I have a lovely hot chocolate that might do the trick.”

  “No, thank you, ma’am, we don’t want any chocolate.”

  “It’ll help,” she said, placing particular emphasis on help. “Trust me.”

  Shandar shifted and gave her a careful study, then he reached out and caught Amaroq by the shoulders and stopped his motion. “Let’s go get some chocolate, Wolf. Then we’ll decide what to do next.”

  Amaroq wanted off the streets. The sensations were too strong out here. He let Shandar lead him into the cool interior of the little shop. It was actually a bakery with small round tables arranged before the counter so customers could enjoy a treat while they bought the rest of their baked goods. Everything was decorated in a pleasant, calming blue – from the iron tables and chairs, to the pale blue linens and decorative plates hanging on the wall.

  The woman took Amaroq’s arm and forced him into a chair by the window, then she placed a square of chocolate in his hand. He didn’t want to sit and he didn’t want to eat chocolate. His heart was still beating too fast.

  “Eat it, darlin’. You need a little sugar to ease your panic attack,” she told him, pushing his hand toward his face. “Trust me.”

  That seemed to be her mantra, but Amaroq wasn’t convinced. “I don’t need sugar, and I’m not having a panic attack.”

  “Of course not,” she soothed, running her hand over his shoulder and down his upper arm. “But it’ll make me happy if you try my special blend.”

  Amaroq popped the chocolate in his mouth and chewed.

  “That’s a good lad.” She stroked his arm again, while she looked over at Nakoda and Shandar. “Please sit. You look worn out.”

  Hung-over, thought Amaroq uncharitably, but he didn’t say anything.

  Shandar sank into a chair, but Nakoda seemed concerned whether it would hold him.

  “Sit,” the woman pressed. “I’ll get some hot chocolate. That’ll do the trick.”

  She left them and went to shut her front door. Surprisingly, she locked it, giving them a wink, then she went around the counter and disappeared behind a blue curtain hanging over a doorway.

  Amaroq frowned. “Why did she lock the door?”

  Shandar shifted to face him as Nakoda carefully lowered his bulk into one of the small blue wrought-iron chairs. “I don’t know.”

  “Is she going to get someone to attack us?”

  “Why would she do that?”

  “What if she works for the slavers?” hissed Amaroq, leaning close to him. “What if she’s going to drug us with her hot chocolate and sell us or something?”

  Shandar gave him a wry look. “You’re getting paranoid.”

  “Am I? The bartender last night almost lost his tavern to a fire when he questioned the disappearance of his worker. The foreman this morning wouldn’t answer you when you asked him about it, and no one else has been willing to talk. Do you know how many times I’ve heard I don’t want trouble in the last two days?”

  Shandar leaned back, considering, but Nakoda nodded. “All that’s true,” he said.

  “Okay,” said Shandar, “when she comes out with the chocolate, we won’t drink until she does, and even then, Nakoda won’t drink. He’s big enough to fight anyone off who comes for us.”

  Amaroq and Nakoda exchanged a look, then Nakoda gave a grunt of agreement. A few moments later the woman returned, alone, carrying a tray with four mugs on it. Steam rose off the top of the mug and a fluffy white substance covered the liquid. As she passed the mugs around the table, Amaroq gave his a critical examination. He sniffed at it and studied the white froth. He’d never seen anything like it. He and Naia had had chocolate before. Shandar never failed to bring them chocolate whenever he went to visit in Terra Antiguo, but this white froth was something entirely new.

  “Whipped cream,” offered Shandar, taking a sip. He came away with a white mustache.

  Amaroq and Nakoda exchanged amused looks.

  “I just made it fresh this morning,” said the baker, pulling up another chair and sitting down between Amaroq and Shandar.

  Amaroq tried to get a feel for her, but nothing about her emotional signature seemed off, seemed deceitful.

  “Drink, darlin’,” she urged. “You’re looking pale and I don’t think that’s a color you usually wear. You’re a handsome one, aren’t you?” She patted his forearm again.

  Nakoda snorted a laugh and looked out the window.

  Amaroq raised the drink to his own lips and took a tentative sip. The sweet taste of the cream, combined with the slight bite of the chocolate sent a flush of pleasure through his system. The baker laughed and patted his arm again.

  “That’s right. It’ll put the color right back in you. I put a dash of cinnamon in all my drinks. It gives it a little kick.”

  “Very nice,” said Shandar, smiling. “Thank you for inviting us in.” He looked around the shop. “This is a pleasant place.”

  “Yes, it is,” she answered, sipping at her own drink. “My husband and I ran it for the last decade. He died about two years ago. His heart just stopped. My daughter and I run it now, although she just got married. She’s having her honeymoon at the Capital.”

  Shandar nodded politely.

  “Drink up, young man. A big man like you needs sustenance,” she scolded Nakoda.

  He looked to Shandar.

  Shandar gave him a nod. There was obviously nothing wrong with the chocolate. As Nakoda lifted the mug to his lips, he made a sound of pleasure. Amaroq and Shandar chuckled. The baker smiled.

  “Good, yes?”

  “Good, yes,” said Nakoda.

  The woman set down her mug. “Rumor is you’ve been snooping around town the last two days. It’s drawing attention.”

  Shandar’s head lifted and Amaroq felt the tension in him. “How do you know?”

  “I run the only bakery in town. People come in for their baked goods, but stay to gossip. I don’t just pass out cookies and hot chocolate, darlin’.”

  Amaroq shifted to face her. If she was willing to talk, they might as well take advantage of it. “My sister was taken by slavers. We’re trying to find her. We don’t want trouble with them, but I’m not leaving here without her.”

  The baker patted his arm again. “Calm down, darlin’. What’s your name?”

  “Amaroq.”

  “That’s quite a name.”

  “Your people know it as Wolf.”

  “Ah.” She held out her hand and Amaroq accepted it. “I’m Tansy, and I’m no enemy to you. I pulled you off the street for your own good. Like I said, you’re drawing attention.” She eyed him closely. “Although, you’d likely draw attention no matter where you go, wouldn’t you, darlin’? I’ve seen eyes that blue only once before – when Talar Eldralin came through Raimondi, leading people to Terra Antiguo.” She released him. “You don’t forget eyes like that.”

  Shandar shifted uneasily, but Amaroq was done with playing it close to the vest. “He was my father.”

  “I see. And your sister?”

  “Is not his.”

  Tansy nodded. “You’re going to get in trouble, going around, asking questions. People here are afraid.”

  “You’re not.” It wasn’t a question.

  “What do I have to fear?”

  “They tried to burn down Drake’s tavern when he asked about one
of his workers.”

  “I’m aware. I knew his worker, a young girl. Daera. She disappeared one night. She always shopped here in the morning. Sweet young thing. Such a shame.” She took a sip of her chocolate, shaking her head. “Such a shame.”

  Amaroq took a chance and reached for her hand, folding it in his own. “My sister is young too, and she means the world to me.”

  “I’m sure she does.”

  “She was attacked during a routine patrol. All of the warriors escaped. She didn’t. She can’t hear – she didn’t hear the attack.”

  Tansy’s expression shifted to genuine sorrow.

  “I have to find her, Tansy. I have to bring her home.”

  Tansy studied him a moment without speaking, then her eyes went beyond him to the window. Finally, she shoved aside her chocolate and leaned close. “Everyone knows about the slavers. They try to sell slaves to businesses here – house cleaning, brothels, even to me. Most always Stravad, most always women and children. Never grown men.”

  Amaroq glanced at Shandar. Shandar leaned forward. “They come right into town, bringing slaves with them?” he asked.

  “No, they wouldn’t dare. They come into town and ask if you need help, then they tell you about an auction. It’s always outside of town, at some spot in the desert. I’ve never gone, but I’ve heard stories. They move every night to stay ahead of the authorities. The King of Eastern Nevaisser, Kalas Eldralin…” She paused and smiled at Amaroq. “Your brother, I suppose, is aware of them and trying to put an end to it. He’s appointed the Baron to seek them out and destroy their operation, but they have a large financial backing and they move continually.”

  “The Baron?” said Shandar, rubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin. “Parish Brazelton?”

  “The same.”

  Shandar smiled, scratching at a spot beneath his jaw. “That old bastard.”