The Slave Trade (Open Thread)

[Morhin]

I don't need or want anything from you, Warmaster. Rawhide eyed her grimly. I thought you might say that. He thought. Aloud he merely repeated, "We will speak on that later." His tone suggested that it not negotiable.

Rawhide watched Cyrith's reaction as he told his tale of what had happened since she lost consciousness. He noted her face hardening at the mention on the slave traders. "The slavers are going to be questioned. There is a lot I want to know about there organization. If they give me enough accurate information, then I will have them executed quickly. If not..." Rawhide left the sentence unsaid, but it would go very ill for the slavers.

"As for the girls." Rawhide continued. "They are here at the tavern. Last night a company of my solders arrived and are guarding them. Some are daughters of Easterling lords and will be returned to there families. The others are children of slaves who have no home or family. Some arrangements will be made regarding them later when I have more time think on the matter." The Warmaster leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment. Children were not within his realm of experience. He looked at Cyrith and raised an eye. "Perhaps you have some idea as to what should be done with them?"

[Cyrith]

Cyrith did not like the look the Warmaster gave her, nor the tone of his voice. She frowned. She had no interest in continuing the matter and wanted it to be left as that. Determined Warmaster. If none had said no to him before, then she was the first. Anyone living Cyrith's life would greedily except some kind of reward, but not her. Yes, she was cruel at times, and cared little for anything but she wasn't greedy or selfish. Her brother was the one who taught her that selfishness and greed doesn't gain anyone anything. Because of him, she wasn't like that.

Cyrith smiled when upon hearing execution for the slave traders. She would most certainly look forward to that. "When they are to be executed, I want watch. It will bring me much joy watching some slavers hang." Cyrith had some doubt on how much information that the slave traders would give the Warmaster. Few talked and would choose death than rather give away any secrets to their organizations. "If they do not speak, you can always try torturing them into talking. I would enjoy watching them as well."

Quite brazen really, to steal the daughters of Easterling Lords and sell them into slavery. At least some of them had families to return to. Cyrith had wondered which of the girls were recently captured slaves and which ones may have been born into slavery like she was. A few may even have no family left and no where to go.

Perhaps you have some idea as to what should be done with them? Cyrith was surprised by this question. He was quick to assume she knew what could be done with the girls. "Why are you asking me?" she said. "I know nothing about children, I haven't any idea on what should be done." Cyrith just laid there, closed her eyes and said nothing for a long while. Then finally, she said. "Some families may want them, I don't know."

She heard the door open again. Cyrith opened her eyes and saw that it was the old woman who had returned with some food. Old Woman saw the Warmaster and frowned, pointing at the door saying, "Out now, no visitors. The girl needs rest."

[Morhin]

When they are to be executed, I want watch. It will bring me much joy watching some slavers hang. If they do not speak, you can always try torturing them into talking. I would enjoy watching them as well.
Rawhide's face became very dark. "No you wouldn't. If they will not talk I will make them suffer. There treatment of those girls would make them look like loving parents compared to what I will do to them." Rawhide fought to control his building anger. He took a deep, steading breath and regained his composure. "If you wish to watch, you may. We may even consider it your reward for your services."

The Warmaster rubbed his wounded shoulder. The knife had gone deep. Surprisingly, he hadn't even knowtest it until after the battle was over. "I thought that, being a former slave, you might have a suggestion."
Some families may want them, I don't know.
"Indeed." The Warmaster admitted. "Perhaps I could find some suitable families to take some of them. I will give the matter some thought."

The old woman returned then and told him to leave. Rawhide stood slowly and looked down at Cyrith. "I have matters to attend to. And you need your rest. We will speak more later." As he turned to leave Rawhide asked the old woman, "Is the other girl awake yet? The red haired one?" The old woman smiled, "Yes. She awoke a little bit ago and demanded to leave. I convinced her to lay back down and rest. But she is a fight'en lass, I'll say. Yes, defiantly a fighter. I was like that back when..." Rawhide was in no mood to stand and listen to the ravings of an old woman and left the room without a word.

[Cyrith]

If they will not talk I will make them suffer. There treatment of those girls would make them look like loving parents compared to what I will do to them. Interesting. Cyrith could only wonder what kind of horrific things the Warmaster could do to the slavers. She almost seemed anxious. "Care to elaborate for me Warmaster?" she said. "I haven't the foggiest idea on what a loving parent is let alone what a parent is altogether having never known one." It was obvious that this current conversation bothered the Warmaster, but Cyrith said nothing of it. If you wish to watch, you may. We may even consider it your reward for your services. Cyrith thought this over for a moment and replied, "Very well then."

I thought that, being a former slave, you might have a suggestion. Shaking her head mentally, Cyrith said, "No Warmaster, their situation is different than mine. When I escaped, I had no where to go, I was on my own. We went to Rhûn because my late husband was from here. He found that he had only one family member still living. A cousin. All others were either dead or slaves themselves. We stayed with him for a short while, but left soon after believing best not to stay in one place for long. These girls will have a chance to live a normal life, I did not get that chance."

As the Warmaster turned and walked out the door leaving Old Woman in mid sentence, she turned looking at Cyrith saying, "Well, a rude lad we have." Cyrith laughed silently to herself and said nothing. Old folk did have a tendency to ramble on a little too much.

Over the next several days, Cyrith continued to improve, which surprised Old Woman seeing how quickly she was recovering. A few of the girls brought some flowers for Cyrith as a get well gift and to thank her for helping save but she quickly and as politely as she could, ordered them away for she was allergic to flowers and they made her sneeze.

Once she was allowed out of the bed, Old Woman brought Cyrith to the bathing rooms and gave her a hot bath, although Cyrith claimed the water too hot for her having grown much too accustomed to cold water. She was angry to hear that Old Woman had discarded Cyrith's old clothes, claiming that they were too wore and covered in blood. She was even more angry (or more or less insulted) with the new clothes she brought her to wear which were not to the girl's taste or liking.

Washed and dried, Old Woman wrapped Cyrith in a robe and presented her with a simple grey dress, one more suitable for a peasant woman. Grey sure fitted her mood. Cyrith eyed it with disbelief. "I am not wearing that!" she said very firmly. Old Woman rolled her eyes replying, "Come now child, it cannot be that bad. The world will not come to an end if you dress like a woman for once." Cyrith grunted and reluctantly allowed Old Woman to dress her.

She then thought Old Woman took it too far when she took much effort to comb out her hair and putting a special oil in it to make it softer. "Why must you insist on trying to pretty me up?" Cyrith argued. "Why not dear?" she said Old Woman. "You have such nice hair, I do not know why you don't take better care of it." Cyrith sighed. Annoying Old Woman was. She was sure that there was more of a reason why Old Woman was doing on all this.

[Morhin]

Several days later, four of the former slave girls left in wagons for their home. Rawhide sent an armed escort to accompany each girl safely to their homes. The others were given food, clothing and rooms until he could decide what to do with them. Cyrith was going to be alright. Rawhide was grateful of her help, but the woman troubled him. He seemed to second guess himself when he was around her, as if he sought her approval. That though troubled him more than he was willing to admit. Pushing the thought from his mind, Rawhide went to the room wear the red haired girl was being kept. "Now for some answers." He muttered as he knocked on the door.

~~~

Shada sat on the edge of her bed and sighed. Her attempted to sneak away had failed again. That old woman always seemed to know when Shada was about to escape. Though she supposed she should be grateful. She was away from those slavers, if not quite free. She had been given new cloths and good food, but she was still very suspicious of these people. Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on her door. Sighing again she answered, "Come in."

Shada stood in spite of herself. Her mother had raised her to respect authority, when it was deserved, and there could be no doubt about the man's authority. He looked so different than he had that night.

~~~

Rawhide looked the girl up and down. Looks more like a young Rhuzon than a slave girl. She's had training, that much is clear. "How are you feeling today? I think it's time you and I had a little talk." He pulled out his bull-whip and held it up for her to see. "And you can begin by explaining what you know about this."

Several hours later, Rawhide emerged from the girls room and quietly closed the door. He need time to think. Rawhide went down to the common room and sat down by the fire. He took out his pipe and lit it. "This changes everything." He said allowed.

[Cyrith]

Cyrith sat by the window, watching a few of the young girls gather into wagons and then pull away. Only these four girls had any family left to return to, the fate of the rest were unknown and were still living in the tavern. Although Cyrith was now allowed to leave her bed, she was still not yet allowed to leave the room. With that, it made Cyrith quite restless. Old Woman only came in to check up on her and bring her food. She was actually almost grateful that the Warmaster had not paid her a visit since Old Woman had ordered him leave from her room.

She could not make herself comfortable in the strange clothes that Old Woman made her wear. Her skirts were long and nearly dragged on the floor, causing Cyrith to believe that she were to step on them when she walked, which she had done so already. She soon became quickly frustrated. Not sure how to hold the skirts properly, she grabbed fist fulls of the fabric and held it as she moved about. "I hate these clothes," she muttered bitterly out loud to herself.

Cyrith opened to the door of her room and peaked her head out. The hall was quiet and empty. Some of the other rooms housed the girls. She could see the sounds of people talking downstairs, but she could understand their words, for many talked at once. Cyrith closed the door and returned to the window and gazed out. She watched as people walked by, wishing for the moment when she would be able to leave this place and return to the outside and be able to wander free again.

[Morhin]

Rawhide stood by the fireplace in silence for a long time. His eyes would focus on the smoke from his pipe as it floated in front of him. To his eyes, the smoke was an image to the past, a story of what had transpired before his time. Rawhide read it the same way he read a tapestry which tells a tale. This tale was filled with suffering, hardships, hate, desert, treason. But through it all there were also signs of joy, love, loyalty, and rewards.

Rawhide was suddenly brought out of his long thoughts by the noise in the common room. His soldiers were coming in to eat and several of the slave girls were being served their evening meal. The Warmaster excused himself and walked outside. He headed for the stables to check on his horse. Though his men had taken good care of both his horse and Cyrith's, Rawhide preferred to do it himself. He felt the strong flanks of his horse and checked his hooves for rocks.

He then did the same to Cyrith's horse. The horse had been well taken care of, but like his own horse seemed ready to travel. Rawhide stood there stroking the horse's neck and speaking softly. "You have like to travel don't you boy? Your the same as your master, she is always on the move, isn't she." Rawhide removed a bur that had tangled itself in the horses mane. "But what else does she have? No family that she has spoken of, no home, no one depending on her or needing her. Free to go where she pleases." He smiled at the horse. "In some ways I envy her. She can move about as she pleases without people constantly demanding your attention or trying to assassinate you. But it must be very lonely, solitary life." He patted the horse again. "But fate it seems had our paths cross and during a chance meeting she has brought to me a great joy. One completely unlooked for." He lowered his voice, as if fearing that someone besides the horses might hear. "One of the slave girls we freed, the red haired one that started all the trouble that night. She is my sister."

[Cyrith]

Cyrith felt like a prisoner, being confined to her room. She could not take it anymore and ached to be free to wander outside of her room. She was restless. Old Woman may have meant well but Cyrith had little patience and thought herself well enough to be able to leave the confinement of her room that felt more like a prisoner’s cell now. After she was brought her evening meal, she went against Old Woman’s wishes and left her room. If she were to lecture Cyrith for disobeying her then so be it. Although she was a little too old be lectured by an elder. At least in her mind.

Having the right to come and go as she pleases, doing what she wanted as she pleased, having no limit to what she can and cannot do and when, and having none to order her around. It was what real freedom was. The great freedom in Cyrith’s mind, was being able to wander freely, coming and going as she pleased, without having none to her otherwise and making her own decisions. Even when she had hardly anything to call her own, she had her freedom and it was all the girl wanted. Everything else almost meant nothing to her, since Cyrith had not known anything else. All she wanted growing up was freedom.

She walked around much easier than she could before. It had only been a week and Old Woman said it would be several weeks. For as long as Cyrith could remember, she always recovered fast. A lot faster that most. She couldn’t even recall a time when she had ever been ill. Old Woman was still trying to figure out a reason for Cyrith’s fast recovery. It was time wasted she thought.

Cyrith slipped on her boots and wrapped her cloak around herself. She left the confinement of her room and carefully made her way downstairs. Few of the slave girls were finishing their dinner and a few men were also around. Soldiers perhaps. Cyrith looked around not seeing Old Woman within site. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her head and made her way towards to the door and stepped outside. How glad Cyrith was to be out of doors. She felt the night air’s chill around her and she ignored it having grown use to it over the years, living outside most of the time.

Seeing the stable ahead of her, Cyrith walked towards it, wanting to pay a visit to her four-legged friend. Hopefully he had been taken care of while she was bedridden. Cyrith took better care of him than she took care of her own self. Stepping into the stables, she saw the Warmaster with her horse. She sighed silently and approached him. Cyrith pushed him of to the side, but not with much force as she did upon their meeting, thinking that he was trying to steal her horse. She just wanted him out of the way. She was happy to see her horse again. She petted it’s nose and it gently nudged her cheek, as if though happy to see her as well. “I see you are still here,” Cyrith said to the Warmaster as she glanced his way.