Enslaved

Chapter 1: Taken

10 YEARS AGO

With the moon high above the sky and the cold wind breeze blowing loudly, Thane’s heart felt as though it was ready to halt its beating. He was bruised, battered and half delirious from both fatigue and the lack of nourishment. But the young Thane of only eleven years of age knew he must press on, to will his short shaking legs to keep moving and to do the one thing he was commanded to do by his mother: 

Run. 

It took all of his strength to place one foot in front of the other, to capture as much air as he could in his weakened lungs. Thane’s body begged for him to stop, to rest and recuperate for just a few seconds but he couldn’t. At least, not now. Not yet. 

Just a little further. 

As he neared the forest, he felt the hairs behind his neck rise. Suddenly upright and alert, he attempted to quiet his loud breathing and listen to the sounds around him. An owl hooting, a stream not too far ahead and heavy footsteps from his assailants in the distance. 

For now, he was safe.

Before he could react to the movement behind him, he felt a sharp pain in his hand and at the back of his head. With a cry, he felt himself tip backward and fall roughly on the ground as his legs were kicked from underneath him. 

“Silly boy. You thought you could get away from us?” 

Thane lifted his head up, his eyes meeting with the tip of a sword which was pointed to his exposed neck. They’d kill him now. Much like they did with everyone he knows.

The man who stood above him grinned with mirth. Thane stared at the man who slaughtered his family and felt fury pump into his bloodstream. Thane would never forget his face. How could he when the man before him was the definition of evil. 

Brutus. The ruthless leader of the slavers. 

At least four times Thane’s size, Brutus had dirty brown hair, a large crooked nose and teeth which were black and rotting. He wore thick furs and reeked of a sour stench.

Thane cringed away as he was picked up by the scruff and lifted up from the ground as if he weighed nothing. 

Brutus gave another toothy grin, a grin which promised a pain like no other. “Wait until we reach Slaugh.” 

They were taking him there? 

A feeling of dread coursed through Thane and settled at the pit of his stomach. Slaugh is known to be the center of all crooked activity where bandits and warlords lived. His father told him about how awful it was in Slaugh and now they were taking him there. 

Thane had already accepted his fate when he was chained and shackled in a cold cage. He thought that things couldn’t possibly get any worse. And how could it? In just a matter of days, his family was murdered in front of him, he was alone with no home, living off scraps from rubbish and he was pretty sure he angered a thief who now wanted to kill him.

Being taken captive by slavers to be auctioned off to the highest bidder was just the cherry on top of a life of bad luck. 

Slavers have gone rampant over the years. He’s heard about it in the markets multiple times enough. Taking children, men who weren’t taught how to fight and women. All to be sold off.

For what? He didn’t know. All he knew is that when you’re taken, you’ll never be seen again.

Thane helplessly watched as he was dragged behind a caravan where several other captives were. Men, women and children were chained in a straight line. They all stared at him with wide fearful and defeated eyes. He alone was placed in a cage like an animal. 

Upon closer inspection, some of the other captives didn’t look as though they were taken from around here. Possibly taken from another place and to be brought to Slaugh. 

Several of Brutus’ henchmen carried sacks of stolen goods beside Thane and his small cage. Most of the items were from his house. He could see his mother’s collection of precious antiques trickling with the blood of his family.

Brutus at the very back, pulled out a whip and brandished it in front of the captives. He harshly whips one of the elder captives making him cripple to the ground. Cries of pain and anguish fill Thane’s ears. 

Brutus crouched down, his height still towering over the frail shaking captive. “If you slow down my caravan again, I will feed you to my horse. Do you understand?”

The old man cowered and quivered but nodded nonetheless. Thane could only stare, his hands gripping on the bars that separated him from the other captives as his anger boiled. He didn’t understand why Brutus needed to hurt the man. He is obviously far too old to be traveling in chains much less sold. What would Brutus need of him? 

Noticing Thane’s heated gaze, Brutus made his way to him. Brutus’ breath which reeked of sour milk fanned Thane’s face. “Enjoying your cage, Princess? How are your shackles? Are they tight enough?” 

Thane wanted to spit on his face but he knew better. He only glared and didn’t break away their stare. He ignored how cold he was or how heavy the shackles on his wrists and ankles were. He wouldn’t let a man like Brutus enjoy his pain.

A henchmen calls for Brutus and points at the rising sun. “Hurry. We have a lot of ground to cover.”

The slavers moved quickly, rallying the rest of their group and mounted their horses. 

With the caravan packed and the captives in a straight line, they began to move. Lips parted in distraught, Thane watched the beautiful city he had called home with the white castle turrets disappear from sight. 

It’s weeks of travel filled with continued torment and hunger later. Thane had seen things that he wished he would never see again. The grueling treatment from the slavers brought a different kind of horror into his body. 

For countless weeks, slavers weaved through outlying villages easily. They caused chaos and destruction without meeting their match. Farmers and other lowly innocents joined the long line of captives. 

If by some chance someone did fight, Brutus easily overpowered them. He would then make an example out of him by torturing the man in front of the other captives. Red thick blood was everywhere for a few days and for some time that was all Thane saw.

He had lost hope. The resentment he felt towards life was unlike anything he’s ever felt before and he was all but ready to give up.

Quickly, Thane withdrew from himself and he counted the last remaining days of his life. 

That is, until his cage was opened for the first time in weeks. For a moment, he thought they were letting him out to allow his legs to stretch since he has not stood in so long but of course not.

They wouldn’t. It was foolish to hope.

Instead, they threw in another captive inside with him in his minuscule metallic cage. A new captive. A girl who’s around the same age as him. She’s a scared and angry little thing. She reminded Thane strongly of a stray kitten in the streets.

Dripping wet, she shook from the cold winds. It rained harshly not too long ago. They must have caught her then. 

Thane felt pity for her as she trembled, her teeth chattering loudly. She kept away from him and pressed herself on the cold bars. She’s a year or two younger than him and is dressed in fine rich clothes. The young girl’s hair was the color of fire and her eyes which glared at him distrustfully were glacier blue. 

A noble? 

Thane suspected she was or at least someone of riches. Despite the recent bruises she acquired from her scuffle with the slavers, her skin was as white as milk and so unlike what Thane has been accustomed to.

He felt even worse for her and what she was about to undergo. 

Not knowing what else to do to ease her transition, he removed his tattered coat and approached her.

So much like the cat he associated her with, she pressed further away from him and sort of seethed. 

“Don’t come any closer.” She warned with a shaking voice. 

Thane, having not much time before the slavers checked on them again, crawled closer and before she could attack him, he draped his coat around her.  

Startled by Thane’s actions, she stopped fighting and watched Thane retreat to his corner of the cage. It wasn’t much. Only a few inches apart. The cage they were in was clearly made for a small animal. 

They didn’t speak for the next few days but every night the little girl would cry in her sleep and Thane felt even more helpless than he already was. 

The next day as they were being thrown scraps of food which were half eaten bones from the slavers meal, the girl ate and finished hers quickly. She was still hungry, rubbing her tummy to ease the pain but there wasn’t enough food. There never was. They were fed once a day and given very little to eat. 

Thane who is used to the feeling of hunger stared down at his small share of food. It was a rotten fruit but still food. He handed it to her and the girl stared wide eyed. 

“Take it.” He whispered, surprised by the sound of his voice. He hasn’t spoken in so long. 

“But it’s yours.” She whispered back, eyes darting all around. 

Thane wanted to tell her that she needed it more and that she was not used to being hungry like he was. Instead, he offered a small smile. “I’m not hungry.” 

“Are you sure?” The girl asked once more. 

He nodded and placed the fruit on her hand. She finished it quickly and hugged herself again. 

They were quiet for a while, the sounds of nature and the loud cries of pain from a nearby captive surrounding them. She winced every time a shadow would approach. 

Determined to keep her mind away from the whips that were happening not too far away from them, Thane crawled closer to her but not enough to touch. “What do they call you?” 

The girl who resembled a kitten stared at him with unblinking sharp eyes. She searched his face before speaking. “Nera.” 

How fitting was it for a girl named Nera which means light gave much brightness to Thane’s small and desolate cage.

“I’m Thane.”