Slave Trade - Inflicting Compassion
Slave Trade Inflicting Compassion copyright 2011 comidacomida
A wolf and cougar slave stood on either side of Sidney as they led him from the work shack. Neither bothered touching him, as they were slaves and he was a Slave Master, but he hardly needed the physical contact to follow their direction; he knew that he was in trouble. The stallion followed behind him without event, which was a small favor as far as the fox was concerned; the bear and elephant sent to collect him looked like they were up to the job but Sidney was glad that there wasn't any need for it... they were probably both in enough trouble at that point anyway.
The fox's heart started beating faster as he was led around behind the west wing of the manor; there was only one possible site they were heading to. "The Stone Garden." Sidney whispered. All four slaves guiding them to the destination chuckled darkly at his realization.
Sidney had only ever been to the Stone Garden once, and that was as an observer. Less than two weeks after he'd been brought to Lord Hector's estate, Ulric had called the slaves together to witness the punishment of a young squirrel who was new to the household. The boy was new to slavery and hadn't learned his lesson about escape; he was caught quickly. With Lord Hector out on business, Ulric was the ultimate word when it came to the law of the slaves and since the estate had so many new slaves he chose to make an example of the squirrel.
The fox's fur stood on end as they passed the house and the Stone Garden came into view. Two obelisks rose up from an oval-shaped bed of smoothly raked sand. Around the sand was a crescent of loose river rocks piled together; from the small pebbles rose three monoliths, perfectly shaped fingers of black stone, each of progressively larger size. Manacles hung languidly from each of the monoliths, seemingly harmless if imposing decorations unless someone had seen them in action... Sidney had.
The squirrel had been shackled to the smallest of the stones, chest against the black rock as his clothing was torn from him; the fox remembered hearing the poor boy call for his mother... it was unfortunate that Ulric particularly hated that response. The gathered slaves were forced to watch as the lion made use of a snap-flay, a paw-held device made up of six leather strips each about four feet in length. The strips were braided together at one end for about one foot and the remaining feet of leather were left to hang loose, pierced intermittently by shards of metal shavings.
The boy was sentenced to five lashes. As Sidney drew closer to the Stone Garden he shivered in revulsion; he could still remember the sound the squirrel made after the first strike. The second was even worse. The third lost volume but its muted nature didn't lose the agony in its tone. The squirrel mewled helplessly at the fourth, blood pouring from the open cuts and wide gashes in his back. He didn't react to the fifth. When the manacles were opened, he dropped to the ground. Ulric had a healer called but it didn't make much difference; the boy lived for two more days, dying just before Lord Hector's return.
Sidney knew that such a thing wouldn't have happened had the Master been at home; Lord Hector would never have permitted such a horrific display. Ulric explained to him upon his return that the boy was caught trying to escape and died from wounds related to his capture; the lion was disciplined, and life continued. Despite the fox's desire to get the thought out of his head he had little luck, especially when he saw the slaves gathered around the sand pit... and the figures already within it.
Lord Hector was there, but it was little comfort to Sidney, who saw a collie standing beside him holding a snap-flay; the fox got weak in the knees. If seeing the dreaded device wasn't bad enough, he saw the imposing figure of Wragol stood behind the stag and to the side. Despite the missing tooth, the bull's sneer was still just as intimidating. Sidney felt light-headed, as if his body were trying to awaken from a dream that was most certainly not a dream; it was one of those times where the fox wished he could wake up from real life... but that was not to be.
Despite the sensation of growing faint, Sidney was not about to stop; the slaves sent to collect him and the horse led them straight into the sand pit, and the fox was stopped right at its edge. The collie beside the stag wore a slave collar, but it was a style with which Sidney was not familiar-- he wasn't one of Lord Hector's slaves. "Lord Hector..." the collie spoke up, "Your fox Slave Master, and the horse in his care." The dog's voice was smooth, almost melodious, but with a hint of something dangerous. It matched his appearance, Sidney realized: a polished, finely cultivated demeanor, but perfectly at ease holding an instrument of torture and punishment. The stag nodded in acknowledgment, and turned to face Sidney.
"Sidney," Lord Hector spoke, and the fox immediately went to attention, "Come here." he said calmly. Sidney responded immediately, stepping forward to stand before his master, eyes focused down at the ground. The fox heard the sound of the snap-flay exchanging paws, and was suddenly surprised when Lord Hector took hold of his wrist. The stag put the device into his grasp and spoke up, "This horse is your charge, Sidney. As a Slave Master, I am charging you with administering his punishment."
"Master?" Sidney inquired, providing as much objection as he could manage, which was a feeble, single-word question.
"The slave in your care struck a Slave Master... this is unacceptable." the stag noted slowly, enunciating clearly and deliberately, "Do you understand?"
"I do, Master." Sidney acknowledged, hearing the sound of the horse being led away from right behind him.
"You are going to administer the punishment to this slave." Lord Hector stated simply, motioning behind the fox. Sidney turned around to face the largest monolith; the horse was being attached to the manacles, chest resting against the stone, bare back exposed, "Do you know how to use a snap-flay?"
"No, Master." Sidney admitted, hoping his ignorance would save him from getting anywhere near the horse with the weapon; he'd seen what the stallion was capable of doing to someone as large as Wragol; if he could knock out the bull with a single blow, Sidney had no doubt that he'd lose his head to such a strike.
The stag motioned to the collie, who approached the fox, folding his paws around Sidney's and began adjusting his grip on the tool, "Hold it half-way between the end-knot and the top-knot... bring your arm back to its full extension but do not bend your elbow. You can bring your arm up over your head, or around at the shoulder, whichever is most comfortable when you swing. You bend the elbow only at maximum height or once it is as far to the side as you can... this will give you the maximum amount of power on the swing."
"But..." Sidney managed to object, "what if I don't want to use the maximum amount of power?"
"Then you end up lashing yourself." the collie responded casually, "And do not back-swing... it is a weak strike and you'll end up hitting yourself that way too." the dog stepped back.
"This is YOUR penalty as well, Sidney." Lord Hector announced, "You will discipline your charge."
Sidney's eyes widened as he realized the beauty of the stag's punishment: he was going to be forced to administer the sentence on the horse himself and if he didn't strike hard enough he'd end up getting raked by the snap-flay himself. Lord Hector couldn't possibly have understood the fear Sidney had at attacking the horse... there was no way the stag would have been able to know what kind of aversion the fox had to causing pain in others... it was impossible for his Master to know just how much disgust he had for the object in his paw... and yet, Lord Hector's divine ability to know him struck true; he was standing in the Stone Garden with the gods-forsaken snap-flay in his paw... well... he would have been, if it hadn't just fallen to the ground.
"Sidney..." Lord Hector noted calmly, "Pick up the snap-flay... we are going to begin." Sidney dared not disobey, and picked up the weapon. The stag continued, "This is my will. For each strike that fails to draw blood, your charge will have an additional lash added to his sentence. If you drop the snap-flay again, or fail to do the task I've set before you, then Wragol will administer the five lashes in your stead." as the simple-yet-effective threat sank in, Lord Hector continued, "Do you accept these terms, or will you give the snap-flay over?" the stag motioned with a paw to Wragol, who strode forward gleefully, holding an arm out.
"Give it here, little fox... I'll show you how you discipline a slave." the bull grinned wide, revealing the missing tooth again. Sidney looked at the weapon in his paw then to the bull, then back to the snap-flay. He glanced over his shoulder at the stallion behind him, who stood with his head down against the stone, legs shoulder-width apart; from the angle of Sidney's gaze the numerous whip scars on his back and thighs were a visible sign of what he was going to do if he kept hold of the snap-flay. Eyes drifting back to Wragol, Sidney's paw almost extended, ready to surrender the weapon before the severity of the choice hit home: no matter how much pain Sidney tried to inflict there was no way that he would do nearly as well as the bull.
"Have you made your decision, Sidney?" Lord Hector asked.
"I will do it." the fox noted, voice surprisingly certain despite Sidney's reservations.
"Good." the stag noted simply, "Wragol... you may stand with the rest of the slaves. If Sidney fails to do his task then I will call upon you."
The bull scowled deeply but he was not about to object. Wragol stamped his way back to the other slaves, and cuffed a great dane on the side of the head when he didn't move fast enough out of the bull's way. He stood at the sidelines, watching with that same scowl. Sidney thought to compare it to a vulture's gaze, waiting for a dying animal to expire before swooping in for the kill. It was obvious that the bull didn't think that Sidney was going to succeed. If the fox was being honest with himself, he was willing to agree with Wragol.
Lord Hector looked to the collie, "I am going to explain the horse's punishment to him... though I plan to have him learn, he does not speak Prossian at present."
"Of course, Lord Hector." the dog bowed deeply, averting his gaze from the stag, but focusing instead on the horse. The collie did not behave exactly as most slaves Sidney had seen, but enough like one for him to realize that it wasn't an act. He would have been more curious if not for the weight of the snap-flay weighing him down physically... though the realization of what he was going to be made to do added on that much more weight mentally.
The stag offered a short collection of Vensian words. The stallion replied with a nod, and said a single word. Though it could have been the fox's imagination, he could have sworn the shackles vibrated in response to the deep, powerful baritone voice... he knew his bones did. Lord Hector continued speaking, motioning first to Wragol. Both the bull and the horse scowled at one another before the stag motioned next to Sidney. The horse didn't bother looking over his shoulder, which wouldn't have mattered since his restraints would have kept him from being able to glance back at Sidney regardless; he simply continued gazing at the bull, who matched his gaze with a sneer.
"Sidney." Lord Hector spoke up, the raise in his voice almost causing the fox to jump.
"Yes, Master!" he responded immediately.
The stag moved over to the fox and rested a paw on his shoulder, "Do this well, Sidney." and, before leaving, Lord Hector gave his shoulder a faint squeeze, and a light pat. Although it was possible that the fox was reading too much into things, he could have sworn it felt almost like an apology.
"You speak Vensian, Lord Hector?" the collie asked, "Your skills surpass every expectation Master Levid has of you."
"If Lord Levid knew all there was to know about me then I would hardly be as interesting, now would I?" Lord Hector responded casually, though his tone suggested an end to the conversation. The collie took the not-so-subtle hint.
"You may begin, slave master." the collie stated. Sidney looked to Lord Hector.
"Begin, Sidney." the stag nodded, and, with a deep breath, Sidney obeyed.
The fox took a moment to adjust his grip on the snap-flay, half way between the top-knot and the end-knot of the grip, just as the collie had shown him. He spaced his legs shoulder-width apart and, despite the fact that he could feel his tail-tucking, he built up the will to draw his paw back, bent his elbow slightly, and, with all his might, swung the weapon over his shoulder as if he were throwing a rock. A loud, resounding *sna-CRACK!* echoed in his ears, followed a half-second later by an agonizing flash of red as his vision was blotted out by a searing pain along his upper arm and forearm.
Sidney tightened his grip on the snap-flay as he felt his paw begin to loosen. Regaining his senses, the fox looked down at his arm and saw several long, jagged tears in his fur from where the snap-flay had twisted back in on him. Shaking, he looked up slowly to the horse, who had several similar lines along the back of his ribs. The fox turned to glance at Lord Hector, feeling his ears droop as he did so.
"It was a failed strike." the collie spoke up, "Start again."
"Are you Sidney's owner, Slave?" Lord Hector demanded of the dog; it was the first time that Sidney had ever heard the stag call a slave by the word.
"No, Lord Hector." the collie responded, "But I was sent here by Lord Lev--"
"I know why you were sent here, and I had spelled out the terms of the punishment clearly." the stag countered, "Are you questioning my authority here, on my own lands, with my own slaves?" A sense of righteous anger seemed to flow from Lord Hector, a brilliant, beautiful, and intimidating thing, as one might expect to see as part of divine wrath of an avatar of a diety. Sidney felt cowed even though it wasn't directed at him; the collie was silenced immediately, and the fox derived a small amount of joy in seeing a few errants droplets of urine drip from the collie's loincloth.
"I... I..." the collie sunk back, "Lord Levid..."
"You will see to it that Lord Levid understands that I handle the control of my slaves suitably." Lord Hector noted, the aura of menace disappearing back into a finely cultivated veneer of gentility, "As you yourself acknowledged my ruling." the stag noted quite simply, "If his strike should fail to draw blood." Lord Hector motioned first to Sidney and then to the horse, "As you can see, the strike did in fact draw blood... and on more than one target."
"Of course." the collie bowed deeply, "I am stupid and foolish and blind, and not worthy of the explanation you have been gracious to provide." it seemed that the dog was laying it on thick, even to Sidney... but he would have imagined that, were he in the collie's place, he would have said and done anything at all possible to avoid staying on Lord Hector's bad side.
"Continue, Sidney." his master bade of him, obviously not interested in wasting any more time on the collie.
"Keep your arm straight, Sidney." the fox said to himself, stretching each finger on his paw before reaffirming his grip. He brought the weapon out to the side this time, extending his arm to the right, and then overextending it behind him. With as much force as he dared, the fox brought the snap-lash around, curving his elbow only after the weapon was in front of him. He felt a strange moment of resistance from the weapon, just as it issued out a resounding, multi-faceted crack-- the sound of it impacting against hide. Sidney was relieved that he didn't feel the device's stinging blow, but, as he opened his eyes, which he didn't realize he'd closed, he saw the damage he'd done.
Despite the fact that Sidney was not the strongest fox in the world, the snap-flay was made to do what it did... and it did it well. Several long lines of red were drawn across the horse's right side: the snap-flay's 'finger-print'. Blood was already leaking out of the wounds and, regardless of how ill it made Sidney to see it, and how queasy he was to realize that it was his doing, the horse in front of him seemed surprisingly unconcerned; the fact that the horse's ear rotated forward was the only indicator that the blow had even registered.
"Continue, Sidney." Lord Hector stated, "He has three more lashes."
Swallowing the bile rising in his throat, Sidney grit his teeth and repeated his last attack, striking higher on the stallion. Eyes open this time, the fox was able to watch as the leather strips bit into the horse's hide, attaching only long enough to drag through his flesh as the snap-lash pulled its way across his shoulder-blade. Lines of red began to seep out of the newly cut wounds, but again, the only response from the horse was a backwards-turned ear, followed by an exhaled breath and the ear returning to its previous position.
"The fox is going easy on him. Sidney, give it here, you runt..." Wragol sneered, stepping toward the fox with a paw held out.
"Wragol." Lord Hector stated simply, "Return to the line." The bull did so immediately, "You heard my declaration." the stag's tone was like ice, "When Sidney is done you will move to the large stone where you will be strapped to it. You are to be given two lashes with a crop."
"Master, I--"
"You have just earned yourself two lashes from a scourge instead. If you speak again or act out in any way I will see you snap-lashed today instead." the statement allowed for no argument, and none came. Lord Hector and the collie exchanged a glance, and then all eyes were on Sidney once more.
The final two blows were delivered in rapid succession. Sidney had begun to lose feeling in his arm... all feeling, of course, except for the horrible horrible pain where the torture device had torn his flesh. The horse weathered the fourth blow the same as he'd faced the first three, but the fifth blow did cause him to momentarily shift his stance, not quite going down to one knee. In one sense, the fact that the stallion never once fell or faltered gave some relief to the fox... but having seen that last shift of the horse's posture revealed that he was not invincible... and the pain in the fox's arm suddenly didn't seem to be the greatest hurt he felt.
The wolf that had escorted Sidney to the Stone Garden moved up beside him and took the snap-lash away, returning it to the collie. The cougar walked Sidney back toward the front of the estate while the bear and elephant who had brought the horse began undoing the shackles on him. The fox winced when he heard the sound of the stallion's large body fall to the ground, and his fur started to rise at the sound of him being dragged along just behind Sidney. He didn't dare turn around, rather, he kept pace with the cougar and didn't say a word.
He was led inside the work shack and he moved hastily to the side as the bear and elephant, walking sideways, brought the horse in and dumped him unceremoniously into the hay. "Shoulda given the 'flay to Wragol." the bear noted, "Saved yourself the trouble." and the other slaves left, closing the door behind themselves. Sidney sighed and shook his head; it wasn't worth explaining to them his reasons for choosing to use the snap-flay himself. Looking down at the bloody stallion, Sidney realized that they had both made mistakes that day and that they both needed to be punished; it wouldn't have been fair to have given the weapon over to Wragol because the stallion would have only had it worse.
Looking down at the horse, Sidney saw the fresh tears in his hide. He began to feel sick again when he realized that he was responsible for them. The fox looked around the work shed until he spied the healing kit he had stowed away the prior night, and went to gather it. When he turned back around, he was surprised to see the horse seated, ears up and attentive.
"But... you....?" Sidney moved over to the horse, still trying to formulate a reasonable way of figuring out the horse's apparent lack of unconsciousness, "Were you faking?" he asked.
The stallion pulled the healer's kit out of the stunned fox's paw and set it in the hay, "king?" the horse parroted the last syllable, apparently recognizing the word. He held an enormous hand up on his head, fingers extended in what Sidney assumed was a representation of a crown, "King?"
"Never mind." Sidney let out a sigh and moved a paw toward the stallion's shoulder. The horse reached out immediately and clasped an enormous ham fist around the fox's forearm. At first, the fox had a moment of extreme panic as he considered the possibility that the slave might want revenge for the injuries he had caused him, but that quickly subsided; once Sidney was pulled down into the hay the horse released him. The stallion opened the healer's kit and began pulling out a collection of different ointments, salves, and herbs. The horse motioned to Sidney's arm, and then to the various reagents, saying something in the Vensian tongue.
"No..." Sidney noted, and made to stand up, reaching for the stallion's shoulder. With a quick display of force, the horse rested a large hand on the fox's head, pressed him right back down into a sitting position, and motioned to the healing kit and then Sidney's arm again, repeating his earlier statement, "I'll worry about me after I look at that shou--" the fox tried to stand again and, with patient force, the stallion lowered him to the ground again. Once more, the horse motioned to the healing it and repeated his comment in Vensian.
Sighing, Sidney motioned to three different herbs and then some clean bandages, "Those three... and a bandage." he said.
The horse took out a bandage and held it in one huge hand, "Ban-di-guh." and gathered up the herbs, crushing them into powder in his fingers before brushing it across the bandage.
"Bandage... right." Sidney noted, trying to glance around the stallion at the wounds on his shoulder. The horse turned to regard him, brow lowering as his piercing blue eyes gazed with a hint of threat at the fox.
"No." the horse noted with finality, and added a few drops of water to the cloth to help moisten the herbal powder.
Sidney quickly sat back straight and attentive, mumbling, "I thought I was supposed to be in charge." It wasn't the first time that day the fox questioned if he was going to be lucky enough to survive being the horse's slave master. It also wasn't the last.