by T J Trapp
He laughed and turned back to watch the path. Erin could see their wagon being driven off ahead of them, moving considerably faster than they were; soon it went out of sight over the hill.
What about Alec, she thought. Is he alive? She turned and looked back, but no one was behind them – the other soldier and his trogus with Alec must be ahead of them.
They walked for a long while with Lily becoming progressively slower and her limp more pronounced. Finally, they topped a rise and could see a camp with many captive men and women, separated from each other on different sides of the camp. Their captor untied them from the trogus and herded them towards the women’s side. Erin took one last look over her shoulder towards the men’s side and saw another trogus pulling a naked man along behind it. Alec, she thought.
✽✽✽
Alec was led to the men’s side of the cleared area. For the first time, he could see Erin and Lily, no longer tied behind a trogus, being led towards the women’s side of the camp. From Lily’s limp, he could tell that they had been affected by the trek much as he had.
Alec could smell the group of men before he could make out their faces. The stench, a ripe smell of old body odor and human waste, hit him like a wall. Alec almost gagged. There was no sanitation and no bathing.
Alec’s captor came up to another man in a similar uniform. “Found them out on the plains. Captain says to add them to the catch.”
“All right.”
A few more soldiers came over to inspect the new capture. Two of them pinned Alec’s arms and strapped a leather collar around his neck; the collar had a short rope leash. Then his hands were set free. The slave-keeper popped him twice on the rear with a small whip – Alec jumped both times.
“You behave, and you won’t have any trouble. Cause trouble, and you will regret it. Do you understand?” the slave-keeper said.
Alec nodded his head.
The slave-keeper led Alec by his leash to a group of four other men. Each of them had a leather collar, and each had a three-foot length of rope leading from the collar to a common metal ring. Alec realized that all the captured men were joined together in groups of four or five, each man tied to a center ring. No man could move independently – they had to sit or stand or move as a clump. Hard to go very fast, Alec thought, with five people tied to a ring.
The slave-keeper poked the group with his crop to make them stand up, quickly tied Alec to the center ring, joining him to the four others, and left. Alec looked at his neighbor’s collar. It was a plain leather collar with a cotter-pin fastener. Alec could see that the pin couldn’t be removed by hand, but a simple lever could probably fasten or unfasten it. Not much hope of that in a place like this, he thought. He felt something squish beneath his foot and realized he had stepped on a pile of human excrement.
Alec’s ring-mates sat down, forcing Alec to sit also; he moved enough to avoid sitting in the pile of shit. He noticed the central ring that held them was not attached to anything.
“Why haven’t you tried to escape?” Alec asked. The men looked at him with no hope left in their eyes.
“Try, and the dogs will get you,” the man next to him said.
Another chimed in. “You don’t want the dogs to get you! That’s a terrible way to die!”
“Misbehave too much and they will let the dogs play with you for sport while they cheer and then they will use whatever’s left of you as food for the trogus,” a third man said, running his words together, and speaking with the hollow tone of one who had seen it happen.
The fourth man just stared into space and said nothing.
They sat for an hour or so until they heard the clang! of metal against metal as a slave-keeper banged a spoon against a pan as a signal to the captives.
“Food time. Come on,” one of the men muttered. They awkwardly scrambled to their feet, impeded by the addition of Alec who did not yet have the rhythm of moving as part of the group.
Alec estimated that there were about twelve sets of ringed groups in the camp for the male captives. The groups formed a loose line and headed towards a low plank stretched between two rocks. In time, Alec’s group came to the front of the line. A large wooden bowl sat in the middle of the plank. Nearby a cauldron hung over the remains of an open fire. A serving woman, dressed in a loose-fitting smock, hair covered by a sunbonnet, trudged over from the cauldron and threw a pot of mush in the wooden bowl. Alec’s four ring-mates surrounded the bowl, squatting on their haunches and pulling Alec down with them. The captives reached in and scooped up handfuls of the warm dripping mush, lowering their heads and shoving it in their mouths as fast as they could. Alec looked at the stuff in the bowl.
“Eat quickly,” one of them said. “We don’t have long.” Alec scooped a little of the mush on his fingertips, smelled it, and tasted it. Pasty. Alec looked at his mates. They had already eaten most the mush and made a mess as they slopped it out of the bowl. It was all over one of them, the quiet man. Alec scraped a mouthful from the bottom of the bowl.
“You’ll get used to it,” the first man said.
After almost no time there was another signal from one of the slave-keepers.
“Time to move,” one of the others said. They all got up, pulling Alec along with them. The next group behind them came up to the bowl, and the serving lady threw another measure of mush into it. Although he could not see them, Alec could hear their slurps and grunts as they slopped up the mush.
Alec’s group meandered from the eating area and sat down again, next to another ringed group. Within the men’s area, the groups jostled about but seemed to have no defined place to sit, and no organization. Alec noted with studied fascination that the hair of a man in the group next to him was crawling with lice; another had an oozing cut on his back that seemed to be infested with maggots.
As always, as soon as the sun began to set the air temperature began to drop. Alec looked around. Although the soldiers began moving towards their tents, there seemed to be no shelter for the captives.
“We are out here for the night,” Alec’s first ring-mate said, patting the bare ground. “We have to use each other to stay warm enough to survive the night.” The five of them huddled up with another group to generate enough body heat to stay warm. Occasionally the men shifted positions as a person on the outside of the pile moved closer to the center for warmth.
Exhaustion took its toll and Alec dropped off to sleep. He was roused from a fitful doze by a whimper and a yelp; in the half-light of the double moon, Alec could see that two men from a different ring had pinned a teenaged boy from an adjoining ring. Alec could hear the cries of fright, and the whimpers from the boy and the rough grunts of the men as the two of them abused the boy long into the night. There was nothing Alec could do. He couldn’t reach the boy, and even if he could, he might just become the next victim of this group. Even in adversity, we can’t pull together, thought Alec.
✽✽✽
Erin and Lily were led to the group of women. Their captor turned them over to another soldier, dressed in a different uniform. He put a leather collar around Erin’s neck. Then he led her to a ring that had three women tied to it. The slave-keeper attached Erin to the ring and went back to Lily. As he started to put a collar on Lily, she looked up at him and smiled coyly, playing with a strand of her hair.
He gave Lily a long look, appraising her. “The Captain says we need more help around the camp. Can you work?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Help feed the captives during the day and help keep the men happy at night.”
“Oh yes,” said Lily.
The guard stroked her bare rump, letting his hand linger, then said, “Go over there,” and pointed at a fat lady wearing a smock and a sunbonnet. “She will put you to work.”
Lily breathed a sigh of relief and went over to the fat lady. “The man told me to come over here, to help you.”
The lady looked at her skeptically. “I hope you are some help! Because I need help
– not another sniveling lazy-bones – but if you aren’t I will have them feed you to the trogus!” She squinted menacingly at Lily.
“I will be very helpful,” said Lily, meekly.
“You will be a serving lady, and you can start right now,” the fat lady said, and directed her to a tent where Lily was handed a smock and bonnet; then was ushered outside to a big cauldron to stir simmering mush with a big wooden paddle.
✽✽✽
Erin felt like a chained animal. She warily eyed the other three women tied to her ring. They sensed her fierceness and did not try to converse with her but did try to point out the camp routine. The first day, however, Erin refused to eat and growled at the slave-keeper as he tried to push her face into the mush.
“Bitch!” he shouted at her and lashed her with his whip. Then he commenced whipping the other three members of her ring. “If you can’t keep her in line you can all suffer,” he said to the women.
“Why?” one of the women hissed at Erin. “Why did you do that?”
Another of the women in the ring spat at Erin. “We do not want to suffer because of you!” The third woman glared at her darkly.
Erin learned quickly that peer pressure was a very effective form of control. After that, she ate the mush. I must keep my strength up, she rationalized and looked for some way to escape.
✽✽✽
Dawn seemed to come early. Alec welcomed the first light since it promised warmth from the night’s cold. He had slept very poorly, jostled amongst the other captives. His feet hurt, and his scratched legs ached. He was a little worried that his grass cuts would become infected. To make things worse, there were no sanitation provisions. Everyone was sleeping in their urine, and Alec smelled – Forgive the pun! he thought to himself. I smell like crap.
Breakfast was the same drill. The groups lined up for their time at the food plank. When it was their turn Alec’s group settled around the bowl as the serving lady threw in their measure of mush. The others ate eagerly. Alec was hungry and knew he had to eat, so he scooped some out and ate it. There is no way to eat this slop from that bowl without spilling it all over yourself, he noticed. I’m going to look just as grungy as those other guys in no time. Very soon the signal was given for the next group to come forward, and his group stood to leave. Alec was slow getting up and felt a whip lash his leg as they moved away.
The slavers were bustling about, breaking camp and packing their tents and supplies into the wagons. With whips and shouts, the slave-keepers herded the groups of men into a long line, connected to each other by a rope passed through each of the rings. The rope was attached to a pair of drungs in front. With a whistle, the beasts started off, plodding slowly, and the captives trailed along behind. The pace was relatively easy but relentless. It was very hard to walk with five people attached to a ring. The path was rough and there was no way to avoid stepping on rocks and brushing against the sawgrass. The people on the edge of the trail barely had enough room to stand straight.
Around midday, they stopped, and each of the rings was given a water-skin. They drank and shared the water although Alec was sure that a couple of members of his ring drank a lot more than the others. The line soon started up again and continued until late in the afternoon when they stopped for the night. Alec had spent the day looking for ways to escape but hadn’t found any. In the first place, he couldn’t get the leather collar off his neck, and in the second place, he couldn’t get away while attached to the others. The rest of the evening was a repeat of the night before. Everyone again slept in their filth and huddled together for warmth. He heard the whimpering of the teenaged boy again.
The next day began much like the previous day: prods by the slave-keepers to rouse the captives; a measure of mush; the rings of men tied to a team of drungs. About mid-morning the line of men was ruffled by a commotion occurring somewhere ahead of Alec. The pace of the roped line slowed slightly as the men, captives and soldiers alike, turned to see what was going on, their combined weight pulling on the drungs.
The teenaged boy who had been abused had somehow figured out a way to unfasten his collar; when the monotonous pace lulled the slave-keepers, the boy took advantage of their inattention to make a break for it. A murmur ran through the chained men as they craned for a better view of the running boy – a few snaps of the slave-keepers’ whips quelled any other thoughts of disobedience. The drungs grunted and recovered their steady pace, jerking the lines of men along. The soldier near Alec looked at the fleeing boy and shrugged. I hope he makes it, thought Alec as he watched the boy run away from the line. However, days in captivity had hindered the boy’s ability to move quickly, and he stumbled as he ran. Then Alec heard the baying of the dogs. About fifty paces from the trail the first dog caught up. It snarled at the boy, who turned and went the other way. Then a second dog appeared. The boy turned back to avoid it, and the first dog grabbed his leg. The boy fell, screaming in pain. The second dog attacked from the other side. Alec could see that at least one more dog joined in. The dogs continued to tear and torment the boy until he could scream no more.
Alec felt sick.
“Too bad,” said one of Alec’s ring-mates, under his breath.
“Why?” said another. “The kid is better off dead.”
“Yes,” said the first, “but now that bunch will just have to find someone else to abuse.”
With that thought fresh in his mind, Alec spent the rest of the day looking with increased urgency for some way to escape.
✽✽✽
The third day on the trail started the same as the others; however, Alec was surprised to see that the serving lady filling the food bowl this morning was none other than Lily. Alec started to say something to her but didn’t have a chance, and by her frown aimed in his direction, she obviously did not want him to.
They marched half of the morning. The combination of rocks, grass, and nonexistent sanitation were turning Alec’s legs into a festering mess and the places where he had felt the sting of the whip had raw welts; the pus attracted small biting flies. As he felt the aftertaste of the morning’s mush fill the back of his throat, he wondered when dysentery would set in. Perhaps it was his imagination, but it seemed there were fewer men in the large group than when he had first been captured. With a sick feeling, he realized the trogus looked well fed.
The soldiers stopped near a slight rise and started to make camp. Off in the distance was a small village.
“They will raid that village later today,” Alec’s more talkative ring-mate mused. “We will have some new companions by tonight.”
Indeed, Alec could see more activity going on in camp than on the previous stops. The soldiers were preparing their beasts and getting ready to fight. The supply wagons had been pulled up in a tight circle. The slave-keepers marched the captive men past the wagons to a stopping point on the far knoll. As his ring passed near the soldiers, Alec saw one of the raiders pull something out of a heavily-sealed wagon.
Alec stopped and stared.
It was a rifle.
Alec gasped. Although he knew little of munitions, from a distance, the gun had the look of the hunting rifles he had been around back home. As he watched, two other guards pulled out things that also looked like rifles. Alec stared in shock and tripped as his ring-mates gave him a swift jerk. They grabbed his arms and pulled him along at their pace until he regained his feet.
“Are you a fool? You will get us all whipped! You know if one misbehaves all are punished!”
“That was a rifle!” Alec exclaimed, trying not to raise his voice.
“‘Ry-ful?’ No – that is their magic death rod!” Even the silent man in their group looked back and shuddered, and they all quickened their step.
“Don’t you know of the death rod? It can kill anything, man or beast, from a great distance! No one can stop its magic. Even the sound of it can cause men to go deaf!”
The second man chimed in, “It beat us at my village. So many fell dead from its bi
te! Its tooth ripped right through our shields! There was nothing we could do to stop it – most of us ran, and I think the others surrendered or were killed. They captured the ones that ran. Like me.”
“Can’t that village see us?” asked Alec incredulously. “Why doesn’t everyone run away?”
“Because they think they are safest behind the village walls,” the first man explained. “If you run from the raiders in the open, the dogs will chase you down, one by one. You saw what that means. The dogs will tear you apart. Behind the village walls, people can fight as a group and are usually safe from raiders – except for these Aldermen raiders, because of the death rod – but the people don’t know that until it is too late.”
The rings of men were taken to their usual place on the left side of the camp. Alec could see a cloud of fine dust rise from the prairie as the raiders rode towards the village. Alec’s group sat down.
“All we can do now is sit and wait,” one of them said. “They won’t feed us or give us water until the village raid is finished. That will take most of the day and probably some of the night.”
Alec settled down on the hard grass. Rifles. But how?
8 – Escape
On her third morning in the slavers’ camp, as Erin squatted down for breakfast she saw that Lily was the serving lady hauling the slop. She hissed softly to Lily in recognition.
Lily leaned over so that her bonnet hid her face from the fat lady and the slave-keepers. “The soldiers are leaving soon to go on another raid,” she whispered hurriedly. Erin’s ring-mates were noisily slurping their mush, paying no attention to Erin, or Lily. “When I signal to you, make a commotion. It may be the only way that Alec can escape.”
After their feeding, Erin and her ring sat at the edge of the women’s area, and Erin watched the raiding force ride off from camp.
