When I woke up, I remembered being captured by the Hag and shoved into a dark place with another slave. I lightly touched the damaged skin around my heart and was a little surprised that the Hag hadn't removed the skin and grew new flesh for me instead.

Perhaps it was an extra punishment? I thought to myself. If it is, then she's only hurting herself. She knows that scar tissue ruins the taste of the meat. “What time...”

“Quiet.” The woman holding me whispered. “It's almost time for food.”

Right. No talking during meals. I reminded myself.

The hatch opened without warning and the light blinded me. I let out a groan of pain and turned my head away from the source, only to feet a foot bury itself into my gut with a force that was excessive for my crime.

“Dirty filth! You will be silent or your tongue will be removed!” A male voice nearly yelled.

I wasn't going to apologize, since that would be me speaking without permission. The foot was removed and I didn't groan in pain or make any sound at all. I thought I heard a sound of satisfaction and then two clunks.

“You will eat quickly or you won't eat at all.” Another male voice said and no other sound came, which meant the two men were standing right there to make sure we both did what they wanted.

I kept my eyes closed and tapped the floor of the container with my hands to find the closest dish of gruel. I found one and pulled it to myself and then opened my mouth to guzzle it and tipped it up to drink it. I knew from experience that it would be watery and not have a lot of substance in it. It was funny what the mind remembers when it was in a stressful environment.

I thought I heard another sound of satisfaction when I put the bowl back where I had found it without opening my eyes. I had even used my fingertips to stop the thunk it would have made against the wood.

A few moments later, the second bowl was put down and I felt the woman's arms go around me and pulled me back towards her and turned my body away from the harsh light. There was a quick scraping sound as the bowls were picked up and then the door was closed.

“Shh.” The woman whispered in my ear and held me tightly to stop me from moving. We waited like that for half an hour before her hold on me eased. “They listen to see if we obeyed.”

I nodded and opened my eyes. It was still pitch black where we were and corrected my mistake of a nod. “Thanks for telling me. I would have messed things up.”

“I'm to take care of you, remember?” The woman said and her hand found my face and she lightly caressed it. “You are very handsome.”

“I'm betrothed.” I responded, which made her laugh.

“If she wasn't killed during the raid, then she will think that you are dead.” The woman responded. “They use dead bodies made to look like us when they capture us.”

“No, Helena won't believe that.” I whispered. “She'll know I'm really alive. She will.”

“You sound like you're trying to convince yourself.” The woman said and then she sighed. “Don't worry, young man. I'm much too old for you to court, even if neither of us will find someone else to enjoy our bodies.”

“Why did they take you?” I asked, a bit surprised for her to admit she was too old.

“Ransom. When my family didn't pay...”

“...they delivered your 'body'.” I finished for her.

“They also probably killed them and burned the house down, too.” The woman said, sadly.

“I'm sure that...”

“They are emulating the Eastern Empire.” She reminded me and I had to sigh.

“I'm sorry.”

“There's no need to be sorry. We are all in the same boat.” She said and then laughed softly. “I think I just made a joke.”

I had to smile. “I think so.” I said and moved to sit up against the wall. Somehow, she helped me do it and then sat beside me to hold me steady with her arms around me.

“The rocking of the boat in the swells of the sea can be steep sometimes.”

“It depends if they have enough time to turn into the waves.” I said back and didn't fight against her embrace.

“They don't care. It's us that suffer for it, not them.”

I had to agree with that. There was no way that they were up on deck when the waves swelled and splashed the deck. They were above such things. “Do you know how long...”

“Another two weeks.” She said and her head snuggled into the space between my shoulder and neck. She took in several sniffs and let out a long sigh. “I will miss this smell when we are removed from here.”

“I stink.”

“It's a nice stink.” She responded.

After a moment, we both let out a soft laugh. The both of us were sweaty after several days of being locked inside the dark container and there was nowhere to wash up, so we were both quite ripe. By the time the two weeks ended, we would be in quite the state.

After that, time seemed to both stand still and pass quickly. All we knew for the next two weeks were darkness and meals every two days. She held me whenever the door was closed and only released me to let me drink the gruel. I didn't give the guards any trouble, because I kept my eyes closed when the door was open. I wasn't going to make the same mistake again. The searing pain wasn't worth it.

I felt the ship come to a stop and knew that this was it. Wherever this was, I was going to be treated like every common slave. I had accepted that fact and would play the part. I knew that I would eventually get a chance to escape, as I almost always did when in situations like this.

The only problem I had was the fact that I no longer had any toes. Unlike what some people think, toes were essential for the body to use as balance stabilizers. Not just for walking, either.

The container's door started to open and I snapped my eyes closed.

“Get out, slaves!” The man's voice barked.

I crawled out of the container and didn't bother standing up. I knew I couldn't, not with my feet like they were. I felt the woman's hands on my sides to try and urge me to stand. I shook my head and didn't speak. I felt something go around my neck and click into place, which meant I had just been collared.

“STAND UP!” The man said and I felt a whip smack into my back. When I didn't move to get up, the whip cracked again.

“I can't stand. I have no toes.” I said and felt the whip for a third time. I didn't cry out, though. I took a moment to try and open my eyes slightly. It was harsh, seeing light for the first time in weeks; but, I managed to keep my eyes opened slightly. They would adjust eventually.

“Hold.” Another man's voice said and I heard the whip spool onto the deck of the ship. “He's right. He doesn't have any toes.”

The other man cursed in his native language. “We can't have him walk if he can't stand! How are we supposed to train him properly?!?”

“Mistress ordered me to care for him.” The woman that had been in the crate with me said. She sounded very reluctant, even though we both knew that she would do it willingly. The whip cracked again and she whimpered.

“You will be quiet unless spoken to!” The angry man said.

The other man let out a sigh. “If the Hag bids it, then it must be true. Slaves don't speak out on their own unless they have to or were ordered to.”

Several more curses were heard, then the angry man stalked off. The other man and the woman stood there and waited while I stayed on my hands and knees on the deck. My eyes were sore and getting used to being used again. The headache wasn't too bad.

“Put him in this.” The angry man said as he came back over to us. I saw in my peripheral vision two other slaves pulling a hand cart that looked like the old one that Mack used at the old General Store. “You're responsible for him.”

I didn't fight the hands that grabbed me and lifted me to dump me into the cart. I held in the grunt of pain as my back hit something, probably a crate of supplies, and the woman's hand touched my forehead.

“Get that thing off my ship.” The angry man said and stalked off again.

“Follow me.” The other man said.

The woman, the slave pushing the cart with me in it, and the slave carrying another crate, followed the man down the gangplank. He didn't slow down or even bother trying to keep us in sight. He knew that we wouldn't get far, not with all the guards around. The collars on our necks were a dead giveaway and no one would help slaves, unless they were either crazy or wanted slaves themselves.

“Welcome to the Kingdom of Fata.” The man said and waved at the crowded docks and then pointed to the road that led out of the area. We followed him and a carriage was there waiting for us. It was empty, so he sent the slave that carried the crate to get the driver and footman from the inn nearby. He dropped off the crate on the luggage rack before he ran to do the man's bidding.

It didn't take long for the men to return and the slave took up his position beside the cart. The carriage was quickly prepared for departure and then I was unceremoniously dumped onto the luggage rack with the other crate.

“Don't fall off.” The man ordered and nodded to the footman, who tied one of my wrists to the rack.

The older woman gave me a sad look and I finally got to see her face. She had age lines by her eyes and her mouth, which meant that she really was quite a bit older than any woman I had met before, except maybe for my mother. Her hair was greying and her cheeks were a little saggy; but, her eyes were a bright blue and I saw the intelligence contained within.

The man, the older woman, and the two slaves entered the carriage and the driver flicked the reins to get the horses going.

Needless to say, the ride was not a pleasant one. It was an older carriage and completely solid, so every dip, bump, and rock in the road shifted me in the luggage rack. I was tempted to dump the crates and make more room for myself, then decided that I didn't want to make things even worse for myself. I was going to have a hard enough time just trying to live without having animosity between myself and everyone else.

The ride to the man's home took a while. By the time we came to a stop, I was battered and bruised, sore from holding on for so long, and stiff from trying to keep myself from moving too much or falling off.

The carriage was emptied in reverse and I was dumped back on top of another cart, this one a bit bigger and it needed both male slaves to handle it.

“Clean them up at the stables.” The man said and the slaves were sent off with the horses.

Let me tell you, being treated the same as a horse was quite the upgrade from being treated as a slave. We were stripped, harshly washed and scrubbed, then dried off and given grey outfits of pants and a sleeveless shirt that pulled on over your head. There were no buttons on anything.

“The servants enter the house from the back.” The man who drove the carriage said and pointed to the door. No one made a move to force us to go, which was a surprise. We didn't protest or go anywhere else, though. Not that I could. I was put back in the cart and we went over to the house. The door opened before we got there and a very stern woman glared at us.

“You'll have to carry the useless one. The cart is not entering the house.” She spat at us.

The two male slaves exchanged looks and the older woman slave looked down.

“Do I have to explain how to empty the cart, you idiots?” The stern woman said angrily, then she sighed. “Prop the cripple against the wall. The woman, hold him there. The two males, grab the crates and bring them into the pantry, drop them off, then come back here to carry the cripple to the servant's quarters and leave him there.”

I was manhandled as the stern woman's orders were executed, quite quickly, and then I saw several other slaves as I was brought to the servant's quarters and dumped onto a cheap bed. There was a bit of a problem with the slaves I saw.

They were all albinos.

Both their hair and their skin were completely white. I had no idea where they had gotten so many of them and captured them as slaves. I was going to find out how that was possible soon. It wasn't voluntarily, though. I was going to be shown how it was possible and I wasn't going to like it one bit.