Page 2 of The Barbarian's Claim
“Tribute. You are safe here. Don’t?—”
“Yeah, right! You kidnapped me from my home! Take me back now! I swear I’m going to rip Tomas apart when I get my hands on him! He’ll regret selling me out like this! I?—”
His words became muffled like someone was covering his mouth, but it didn’t last long. A barbarian let out a shout, and I heard a scuffle before the barbarian spoke again.
“He bit me,” he snarled.
My mouth fell open. Someone dared to hurt one of them? Did the tribute have a death wish? The barbarians were enormous! Made of muscle and covered in weapons. I wouldn’t dare try to disobey one. I wanted to live.
The screeching picked back up again, and the shadows got a little darker as a barbarian moved into the light, poking his head in to check on us. He was frowning, but he didn’t move to grab anyone else. He sighed, glancing over his shoulder, and spoke in his language again.
They ended up having to gag the man to stop his protests. He was dragged into the carriage, and his shackles were tied to one of the boards beside me. I edged carefully away from him, worried he’d take his anger out on me, but he barely glanced at me. His glare was firmly locked on the barbarians. Whoever had decided to send him here had better hope he never escaped. I could see in his eyes that he’d get his revenge.
Two
MATTHEW
The journey to the barbarian village took a few days. They kept us all fed and gave us plenty of water. The only one who was treated with any roughness was the angry man, who shouted curses at them whenever they removed his gag to give him water, and tried to kick them when they put it back on. I was relieved when we finally stopped. It was hard to get sleep when someone was yelling through a gag right next to you.
We were led to a large tent in the middle of the village. Rugs covered most of the ground, and a few lanterns hung from the ceiling on ropes to provide light. I wasn’t sure what would happen next, but we were left alone for a little while, with only a few guards standing outside the tent. Then, one by one, barbarians showed up and pulled tributes to their feet, leading them away. The more people disappeared, the more nervous I got. When the angry one snuck away, I almost wanted to go with him. I didn’t get a chance before another barbarian came in and strode over to me. He helped me to my feet, and his grip on myarm was gentle as he led me out of the tent and away from the village center.
He brought me to a new tent, this one closer to the edge of the encampment. There wasn’t much inside, just a pallet of blankets and furs, a small table, and a wooden chest. He nudged me toward the table and sat me down before getting comfortable beside me. He pointed to his chest.
“Orn.”
My brows furrowed. I didn’t know what he meant. Did he want something from me?
Like he could tell what I was thinking, he shook his head, pointing to the table instead. He said something, then pointed to the lantern next. It took me a while to figure out what he was doing. He was naming things. And when he pointed at himself again, he repeated the word he said before.
“Orn.”
That was his name. I nodded to show I understood. Then he pointed at me. Ah. He wanted to know my name.
“M-M-Matthew…” I murmured.
He leaned closer with a frown, and I forced myself to speak a little louder. I didn’t like to. I didn’t use my voice often after my family died, and I wasn’t very chatty before that either. Thankfully, he heard my second attempt and repeated it to show he understood.
After introductions, someone showed up with bowls of food, and he pointed out words in his language as we ate. I tried to remember as much as I could, but he spoke too fast, and it was hard to wrap my head around it. He didn’t make me repeat him, so he didn’t realize I wasn’t keeping up. I’d never been very smart. Learning a new language would be hard for me. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too mad about that.
The first day was spent alone in the tent. Orn stayed with me, teaching me words and encouraging me to speak. I wantedto do as he said, but he was still talking too fast, and I was too embarrassed to say anything. I wasn’t even sure he could understand me if I did. He hadn’t spoken in any other language but his since we met.
The following day, I was brought back to the first tent we had stayed in while we waited for the barbarians who would take care of us. I figured that was what Orn was doing. He didn’t force himself on me or hurt me. He fed me, brought me to the trench to relieve myself, and pointed out words in his language. Even as we slept, he gave me space and faced away from me. It was odd to share a bed with a stranger, but after days of iffy sleep, I eventually succumbed to exhaustion and slept through the night.
I had time to wake up and eat before we left, so I was wide awake and curious as I looked around the group. None of the other tributes seemed any different from how they had been when we arrived. A few looked tired, but not everyone woke up in a good mood. They weren’t hurt or overly disheveled. I relaxed a little. Maybe they wouldn’t hurt us after all.
A smaller man joined us at one point, a timid smile on his face. He was dressed like the barbarians, but he didn’t look anything like them. He was smaller than me, with short curls instead of braids, and his hair was only shaved in a smaller spot on one side. He had a thick leather book in his hand, and he introduced himself to us as a former tribute.
“My name is Finn. I hope everyone has gotten some rest. I’m going to be teaching you the language of the clan to make life a little easier for you. I’m sure your barbarians have done some of the work so far, but?—”
He was interrupted by another warrior, who led the angry tribute inside. He wasn’t shackled or gagged anymore, his expression petulant as he glared at our instructor.
“Oh, you’re here.” Finn smiled gently at him. “Good. Welcome. We’re learning the basics of the barbarian language today. There are some cushions to sit on, if you want to make yourself comfortable.”
The tribute made a face of displeasure and immediately tried to leave. His barbarian stood behind him, a solid wall of muscle blocking him from the exit. “I don’t want to be here,” he snapped. “I don’t care to learn.”
Finn took a step closer, his face full of understanding. “It’s okay to still be upset. There’s a lot I can explain if you’re worried.”
“How long have you been here?” the angry man demanded.
