Welcom' Te Helle
1642 Words
Scar man walked around them slowly, " Here on Helle. There is only one rule if ye want te survive; all ye have te do is follow orders diligently," he looked at Selena as he stressed the last word.
"I am not so cruel to make yer suffer for no reason. After all, what is the use for lame horses?" he turns to his men, "Scrub 'em down, have the women go to the lodge and the older boys to the fields," he said before leaving.
Selena watched him go with a frown; all around them, people were rushing from one place to another. Some stopped to stare at them with pity, others with hostility.
They were all in varying degrees of malnutrition, dragging chains and obviously from different packs.
A pungent odour lingered in the air, a blend of dampness, blood, and the acrid tang of fear. Selena noticed the strange runes on the chains and frowned.
Cold water slammed her spine, stole the breath from her. The men laughed as she shivered—scrubbed, not washed.
The men leered at them as they hastily washed up and poured more cold water on them.
They finally stopped their torment when the captives were nearly convulsing, blue with cold, giving them coarse brown garbs, barely being held together by twine.
Iron collars clinked closed at their throats. A faint sigil, stamped into the metal, pulsed like a heartbeat—cold against her skin—and the strength seeped from Selena as if the rune drank it away.
Her wolf snarled and strained, hot and sharp, but the rune turned that raw hunger into a helpless coil.
"Women, come with me!" One of the men ordered, already marching towards the second most prominent structure in the camp.
"This is where you will spend most of your time", he announced, spreading his hands.
Selena eyed the suspicious stains on the walls and floors while being pushed into a room at the back; they entered a kitchen space with soot-covered walls, a crude fire cooker, a concrete slab made for cutting and rickety cupboards that held crooked carved utensils.
She shuffled with the others to the wooden frame, the interior packed with worn tables and chairs that had seen better days.
"You will cook and clean the mess hall and the masters' chambers three times a day. The camp has about a hundred people, so be careful not to waste it and don't try to steal anything. If you're good enough, you will not suffer," His eyes roved over their frames with barely veiled lust.
Selena glared at him, 'disgusting'.
"Water will be brought to you by the men, and when we cannot get water, you will get snow to melt. Do any of you have any medical knowledge?" he asked.
One of the ladies stepped forward; she had creamy skin with thick red ringlets. Her eyes were firm, though her lips trembled.
"Good, you will follow me now. The healer is short on help; the rest of you get to work. The men will be here for lunch soon," he said as he walked out.
The women stared at each other quietly, unsure of where to begin.
"I'm Myra, from the Wildefang pack in the west", a lady introduced.
“The West?” Selena asked, startled. The Wildefang rarely mixed with outsiders.
“Yes,” Myra said, confused.
“I’m from the west too,” Selena admitted, studying her closer. Platinum hair—yes, her clan’s mark. But a dark bruise swelled her eye shut, her words slurring around the injury.
Relief softened Myra’s features. “What pack?”
“BloodShade.”
Myra gasped. “The great Luna’s people? An honor.” She even tried to bow before stumbling, her balance poor.
The third lady had pale skin and long turquoise hair, 'definitely from the north'. Selena thought.
The inhabitants along the northern waterside had peculiar skin and hair colours due to the unique plants and river food they consumed; they were also highly skilled in magic.
The Northerners were refined in their ways. "I am Juno; I belong to the Moontide pack," she introduced calmly, even though her eyes were red and swollen from crying.
Selena couldn't help but wonder how the slavers got people from such varying packs so spread far from one another. How had her pack members missed slavers in the territory?
The last was a girl, barely more than a pup, her voice wobbling: “I—I’m Illys. Silverclaw pack.” She rubbed her raw wrists, green eyes darting everywhere. Her red hair hung in tangled mats.
Selena’s wolf gave a soft whine. Too young.
The women unanimously decide to look after the child together.
"How did you get caught?" Myra asked as she began to look around the room; the other women took her lead and began pulling worn-out pots and pans from the shelves.
"I was kidnapped," Juno said, looking for flint to start a fire.
"What? They managed to sneak into the pack?" Myra gasped, turning towards Juno and swaying dangerously.
Selena was also intrigued; even among wolves, the Moontide pack were top-notch hunters. She grabbed Myra's hand and led her towards one of the small stools in the corner of the room.
"No, I was fishing, and somehow they snuck up on me from downwind," Juno said, a touch of triumph in her tone when she finally found the tiny pack of flint.
"Makes sense. I was foraging in a meadow close to my community when they ambushed me," Myra said, watching Selena walk away.
"I was with my sibling by the river", Illys sniffled, opening the dust-caked windows. "The men came out suddenly and attacked us. My eldest brother told us to run back home. I got caught, though; I don't even know if the others are ok," she started to cry again.
"Hey, it's ok, love, don't cry. I'm sure they escaped; they're older than you and probably ran faster. Don't worry; we will get you back home safely," Selena cooed, trying to comfort her.
Her hands moved to the child automatically. Sif had always stiffened when Selena spoke of pups—Selena understood now why.
"Really? " Illys asked, hopeful, drawing Selena out of her thoughts.
"Yes, child, now wipe your tears", Selena assured. Even if they couldn't escape together, she could return help after dealing with Sif and Ray.
"How did you get here?" Myra asked.
"I got sold," Selena said, ignoring how Illys tensed in her arms or Myra's gasp.
"I was not aware that the west sold their packmates," Juno said, stroking the fire in the pit.
"We don't!" Selena and Myra replied together.
"What happened?” Myra pressed, wide-eyed.
Selena cut her off, voice low. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Her wolf clawed at the rune, rage pressing sharp under her ribs. She swallowed it down. Escape first. Revenge later.
Myra sagged suddenly, eyes rolling. Illys squeaked, trying to hold her upright.
"She's unconscious," she whispered, scared.
"It took long enough. That bruise looked bad," Juno hummed. "Just leave her aside for now; I feel like there will be issues if we don't get this place settled."
Selena bit back frustration but agreed. If she wanted to escape, she needed to stay unnoticed.
"Let's sweep this part and have her rest; we'll wake her at intervals to ensure everything is alright. Come on, child," she gestured towards Illys to help her.
The three of them fell into a rhythm: sweeping floors, scrubbing soot, scrubbing the cracked tables. The pantry offered little: a few shriveled vegetables, rancid meat, flour crawling with weevils.
“We’ll make do,” Juno said briskly. They boiled broth from scraps, stretched flour into flat loaves, and called it food.
Soon the mess hall filled with weary men. The stink of sweat and dust thickened the air, chains rattling as they slumped onto benches.
They fell silent as the bowls were set before them, then murmured in surprise when steam rose from the broth. The clatter of spoons followed, voices loosening with the warmth of food.
Selena listened, catching fragments of talk—collapses in the mines, three more dead, “damaged goods” hauled away. She filed it all away.
"Yer new ere, right? Ye do best to keep a low profile fer now. The master is not above whippin women," one of the men said to Juno while they were serving.
When the meal ended, the men were herded back to work. The hall emptied.
The three women cleaned in silence until Selena finally spoke, voice low. “We need to find a way out.”
"Security will still be tight since they just brought us here. We need to stay out of sight." Myra said
Selena nodded thoughtfully. "First, we need to gather as much information as we can about this place, the guards, and any vulnerabilities we can exploit."
Myra glanced around the dimly lit hall, her gaze lingering on the worn walls, someone could be listening in.
"We'll have to be careful," she cautioned. "We can't afford to raise suspicion or draw attention to ourselves."
"Maybe if we spoke to the other slaves, got them into it?" Selena asked, already getting hyped on the idea of leaving this place.
Juno added, "But we must be cautious. We don't know who we can trust yet. Some may be loyal to the slavers, others may be spies."
The other women fell silent, that was the truth. Anyone could be an enemy here.
Later, when the chores were finished, Selena sat on a bench, staring at her raw, blistered hands. She curled them into fists, fury seething in her chest.
'Those who have put me in this situation will be sorry.' She thought as she clenched her fists.
- Writer
