Page 11 of The Sun God's Prize
That startles him, the challenge, but he’s grinning when he looks down at me again.“No one, woman,” he says.“We were simply lucky to come upon you and your companions that night.They invaded our trade route.I don’t like outsiders, so I took what was theirs and left them dead.”
“The blonde woman.”I growl that, because I need to know.“Did she die?”Again, I mean.Did Vivenne dieagain.
His eyes tighten, and I have my answer.“I sent her to the bottom of the river,” he snaps back.
So, no.She’s out there, somewhere.With Portuk.
Looking for me?The idea that my not-quite-right aunt might be my salvation will only sit well when I’m free.Then I’ll be the one to make sure she dies for good and all.
I laugh at him.It’s not intentional, it just comes out.Bursts free from my sore throat, bitter, rebellious.I am going to kill him for certain now.I just need to pick the time and place, is all.
My amusement enrages him like nothing else did, and he lunges for me.Shows me just how fast and agile he is as he springs toward me, as fast as that whip he resembles, as he lashes out with one fist, striking me across the mouth.
It hurts, but I’ve had worse.There’s blood on my tongue, a sting on my cheek.I’m still laughing, because now I’m going to kill him slowly.
The captain grunts in surprise, rage flaring.I see him forget he means to profit from me, and when he snatches a blade from his waist, I’m ready to die.
Something oozes out of the shadows and speaks.
“Now, Lhanin,” the newcomer says in a voice as well-oiled as his dark hair, a wide, eerie smile splitting his face, “might I remind you that damaging the merchandise reduces their value when we come to sale?”
The captain whirls on his companion, the smaller man in dark robes nodding to Lhanin, but his attention on me.Here is someone more dangerous than the knife-wielding master of this ship.I’ve met men like him, notably the Chancellor of the Overkingdom.He reminds me so much of Hallick, as a matter of fact, that I’ve added this creature to my death list as well, and all he’s done is speak up to protect me.
No, not me.How much he can make selling me.There’s a huge difference between humanity and greed, and he’s far beyond the distinction.
“Stay out of this, Vunoshe.”The captain’s gruff command gets him nowhere, and I now understand the dynamics of this vessel.
Vunoshe ignores Lhanin, small fingers reaching out to stroke my cheek, to lift my filthy hair away from my face.His smile doesn’t lessen, though, and his assessment feels like Mother’s keen eye at a brood mare sale.
“This one has great value,” he says.“I haven’t invested in this little enterprise to see my money squandered because of your temper.”He taps me on the end of the nose with one fingertip.“Have her cleaned up,” he says, thin nose wrinkling.“She’s vile.”He motions to the sailors while the captain glowers at him behind his back.“I’ll see her in my quarters for dinner.”He turns and exits like he owns the ship, which it sounds like he does, the swirl of dark fabric of his robe washing me with the scent of spices I don’t recognize.
Lhanin looks like he wants to argue, but tsks softly under his breath, then waves one hand, dismissing me from his sight.
When I’m dragged back down to the deck, I’m already planning my escape.
And how the captain will gurgle his own blood as he dies.That makes me smile.
I think the sailors are afraid of my smile.
***
Chapter Five
The ship is small, but there are two cabins aft, it turns out, and I’m taken to one of them, shoved unceremoniously through a narrow doorway and into a bedroom, and then pushed out the back onto a small, flat deck.I can see the river past the railing, but to leap now would end in drowning with this shackle on my leg, the chain’s weight too much for my weakened state.
I must bide my time.
One of the sailors kicks me in the hip, making me stagger, the other laughing when I go down on one knee.I inhale to snarl back when the wooden slats beneath me give way and I’m plunged into the river’s water.
There’s some kind of woven net hung beneath the ship, and were it just a few inches deeper, I would have drowned from that plunge, my leg chain held firmly above the surface, jerked uncomfortably in the grip of my captor, pulling on my ankle that burns from the rushing water.
I gasp as I resurface, catching the edge of the circular opening, fighting the weight of the current, though there’s nowhere for me to go.
“Wash.”I just catch the rough cloth tossed at me, wrapped around a bar of coarse soap.“Be fast.”The chain rattles ominously while the two sailors laugh again.“Let’s see you.”
I have to strip, I have no choice.And let them look, for all the good it will do them.It’s a relief to be free of the disgusting sack I’d been dressed in, to feel the water’s gushing flow do most of the labor in flushing my skin of the waste and filth I’ve been living in.This is a clever bit of building, I admit it, while I scrub as fast and thoroughly as I can, fighting to stay above the surface at the same time.They must use this method to clean off their slaves before they take them to market, wherever that is, to make them more appealing to buyers.
None of which matters at the moment, not while I slip and go under, choking when my body gives out on me.I barely make it to the edge again, forearms holding me up, coughing river water, drained but as clean as I’m getting.
