8. Five
Every time I thought I couldn't possibly be more humiliated than I already was, someone came along to prove me wrong. Senna scrubbed me from head to toe with a rough brush that left my skin feeling raw. Then he rubbed me down everywhere with a slick, musky smelling oil.
I blushed as his fingers shamelessly parted my buttocks and probed inside my body, coating me thoroughly in the oil inside and out. I thought I was going to vomit as I realized what he might be prepping me for. Of all the injustices I'd suffered in the breaking pit, at least the slave breakers hadn't raped me.
You fool. Michail told them you'd make a fine bed slave, so of course that's their plan. You should know better than to expect anything less from elves. Raping and pillaging is what they do.
My face burned as Senna finished his task and I found myself staring at the ground, fuming. I eyed the rod and fantasized about shoving it up Senna's ass. Let him feel violated for a change. They'd kill me for it, but at least I would die with my pride.
Senna dressed me in several layers of thin, gauzy cloth, draping it around my body and tucking it to make a strange, swooping garment that barely covered me to my knees. Then he stepped back with a frown to examine his handiwork.
"It'd be better without the collar," he said with a sigh, "but that can't be helped. Come now, slave. I'll give the rules as we walk."
He unhooked me from the post, rod in hand, and led me out of the tent as if walking a dog on a leash. No, a dog would have the freedom to piss where he pleased. I didn't even have that.
Outside, the sun had begun to set, painting the sky in shades of pale pink and wild orange. The air was smoky from all the cookfires, and full of the scent of fat roasting over open flames. Chickens, hogs, and a few goats wandered aimlessly. Every so often, a loud burst of raucous laughter belted from somewhere nearby.
A desperate cry drew my attention to a large gathering of elves as they passed a slave woman between them. She wore nothing but her collar and a demure smile, as if she were enjoying being passed from one wild elf to another. She giggled as one caught her and pulled away, only to be caught before she could get more than a few steps and yanked violently back. Shrieks of laughter made the exchange seem almost consensual, but how could it be when she was collared and they were not? An elf pulled her tight against him, hand squeezing her wrist possessively. She turned her head, strands of honey brown hair falling in front of her face. Our eyes met briefly, and I thought I saw something like pity in her eyes, there and gone again before her attention was drawn away.
Raw fury and disgust filled me as I beheld the wild behavior of the camp. Everywhere I looked was disorder and debauchery, flesh on display. They rutted in the open like animals, laughing and eating right next to where their fellows were fucking.
All my life I had heard of the barbarism of elven warriors, but to see it firsthand… I would not have believed it if I hadn't seen it myself.
"You must never look the mirzas in the eye," Senna instructed. "Your gaze should be cast downward always in their presence. Secondly, you must always comply with the mirza's wishes. Insubordination will not be tolerated. If you behave in any way unbecoming of your station…"
I'll get the rod, I know. I rolled my eyes and stopped listening. Senna's rules were just complicated ways of saying I had no freedoms. I wasn't even a person to these elves; I was an object to be used and possessed, passed around like that poor woman.
Every encampment we passed, there were more humans. Some of them were working, while others were simply kneeling and being ignored. Each one I saw made me even more angry. How could they just accept their fates? There were weapons literally inches from many of them. At a glance, the slaves outnumbered the elves two to one. With even a little effort, their freedom was within reach. All they had to do was rise up and take it. Yet they bowed their heads and knelt, defeated. Broken.
Senna led me into a large tent at the center of the camp. Soft rugs made up the floor. Thin curtains waved in the breeze, separating the public area of the tent from what must have been sleeping quarters. I could just barely see through the curtains to where a large pile of pillows lay.
Despite my nerves, I was more interested in the spread of food that had been laid out in the main area. Dates, pomegranates, and figs sat alongside hearty loaves of bread and jars of what I presumed must be condiments. My mouth watered at the sight of sausages and fresh apples.
My chain jerked so quickly I didn't have time to adjust before I was half strangled and dragged into a prostrate position. Against my better judgment, I lifted my head and found Ruith, the large black-haired elf, looming over me. I hadn't even realized my mistake until Senna jammed the rod into my side. My body jerked and my mouth opened in a silent shout of pain. For a moment, the world winked out of existence, and when I came back, Senna was apologizing profusely on my behalf.
"—doesn't have the sense of a worm," he was saying. "Even a dog learns when threatened with the rod, but not this one. Let me take him and train him for you, Mirza. It would be my honor."
"Leave us," Ruith demanded.
I half expected Senna to object and say that it was unwise, that I was dangerous. He'd be absolutely right. I was dangerous.
Instead, Senna bowed his head and slid backward from the tent without ever looking up from the ground.
My eyes darted to the tent door, every instinct in me screaming that I should follow Senna out. Run, fool.
But where would I go? I was in the middle of a hostile encampment, surrounded by enemies. Even if by some miracle I escaped, there was nowhere to go. Ostovan was just as hostile, and none of the other free cities would be wise to welcome a prince in exile. Perhaps they had let me out of my gilded cage, but I was no less a prisoner than before.
"I suppose it's too much to expect you to speak a civilized tongue like Elvish," Ruith said.
It wasn't a question, so I wasn't supposed to answer. Even if it was, I couldn't thanks to the collar.
I broke Senna's cardinal rule and glanced up at him. He stood with his broad back to me, filling a glass with water. He wasn't ill made for an elf. He had the body of a soldier honed for combat and bore the scars of it wherever there was exposed flesh. I had never seen an elf as large as Ruith. I hadn't seen many humans that size. He knew how to fill the space too, moving with a commanding presence. Even something so simple as pouring a glass of water felt important.
When he turned around, my eyes sought the floor.
Fingers snapped next to my ear, and I flinched.
"Well, you're not deaf." Ruith circled me as I knelt on the floor.
I didn't want to be there, kneeling in front of him. A prince shouldn't kneel before anyone except the king, bastard or not. Everything in me rebelled at the idea, yet I couldn't make my legs move to fight my position.
Ruith dropped to the floor to sit cross-legged in front of me. He set the water aside. Firm fingers gripped my chin and tilted my head up. It had to be a test. I knew it was, but I still couldn't stop myself from looking him straight in the eyes.
Blue. His eyes were blue. Not blue like the bottomless ocean or like twilight. Blue like a fresh bruise on fair skin. A scar ran through his lips on the far right, and another marred his brow. If he were human, I would've judged him attractive in a rugged sort of way, but he wasn't. He was a monster.
I winced as he pinched my chin between his fingers and forced open my jaw. Two fingers went fishing around in my mouth tasting faintly of soap. If I could make a sound, I would have snarled like a wildcat before biting down. Instead, the only sound was the dull scrape of my teeth over his flesh. His lips pulled into a smirk that only made the scar on his lip stand out more and I gagged as he shoved more of his hand into my mouth. The more I tried to bite down, the more of his fist he fed to me.
Without thinking, I lashed out, shoving him away before doubling over, coughing and sputtering. I realized too late that what I had done had been listed amongst Senna's capital offenses. My eyes darted to the rod, which Senna had left sitting on the table, and I flinched when Ruith's fist closed around it.
"This old thing?" He tapped it in his palm, testing the weight of it before flinging it aside. "Senna's effective at training slaves, but you're not a dog who will learn from being beaten. No, that will only make you meaner. What he doesn't understand is that some beasts need the rod and others need to be tamed with honey." He picked up the glass of water and held it out to me.
I stared at it. If I could have, I'd have been salivating, but my mouth was bone dry. When was the last time I'd had something to drink that didn't come on the end of a sponge? That was all they'd offered me in the pit. Disgusting sponges soaked in a concoction of vinegar and minerals. Just enough to keep me alive.
But if I accepted his water, it would be accepting him. Accepting my role. I'd be playing exactly the part he wanted for me, and I refused to do that.
"No?" Ruith pulled the glass away with a shrug. "Suit yourself," he mused before drinking the whole thing.
Water spilled down his chin in wasteful drops. My mouth watered, and I fought the urge to dart forward to lick it from his skin. My tongue hated him for it. I hated him more for leaving the taste of him on my lips. He was the first thing I had tasted aside from gruel and vinegar for months, and I'd only gotten that much because I'd bitten him.
My eyes darted to the table full of food behind him. Someone had carelessly left a knife next to the sausages.
"Do you want that?" the elf asked, a playful smirk on his lips. "You want to gut me? Go on. Try it. But you had better make sure you kill me on the first try. If you don't, I promise you'll regret it."
I licked my lips, fixated on the knife, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew how to use it. Decades of training with the master at arms had made me one of the deadliest swordsmen in Ostovan. I had gutted boar and stag alike on hunts. It would be nothing to slit this elf's throat.
My eyes slid back to him and his knowing smirk. The bastard was goading me into it without even knowing that I understood him. What kind of sick, twisted creature was he?
Fuck you, elf! I flung myself forward. My heart soared with the promise of victory as my fist closed around the handle. I yanked it off the table, but never got a chance to use it before the elf grabbed me by the throat. I swung the knife at him, but the move was panicked and wild, my arms weak from disuse and hunger.
He caught it with ease, closing a fist around the blade. Blood seeped down from one fist while the other tightened around my throat just above the collar. "That was unwise."
Black threatened at the edges of my vision. Tears spilled from my eyes. I let go of the knife to claw at his hand, but it was no use. He was stronger than me. After weeks of limited food and water, I was even weaker than usual.
Just before I blacked out, he released his hold on me, throwing me to the floor. My throat ached and my head was pounding as I swayed with dizziness. I had a second, maybe two, before strong hands pushed me easily onto my belly and pinned my arms behind my back with almost no effort. I opened my mouth in silent protest as he pushed aside the pathetically thin fabric Senna had dressed me in, exposing my oiled backside to the cool air.
The crushing weight of Ruith's body settled over me, pressing me hard into the floor as he mounted me. I couldn't scream, even though every fiber of my being wanted to, and I couldn't fight. He was too big, too strong.
Raw terror took hold, and I bucked like a wild animal in a last-ditch effort to free myself. Ruith just laughed and held me down. This couldn't be happening! Tears streamed down my cheeks as his sharp chin settled in the sensitive space between my head and shoulder. Hot breath tickled the shell of my ear.
"I want you to remember this moment," he whispered and inhaled loudly. "I want you to understand I can have you anytime I please. There is no escape for you. No way out. Even though I practically gift wrapped that knife for you and offered you my neck, you failed to kill me. Even armed, you were too weak to best me. Rest assured, you will not be getting another chance. You are not my better. You are not even my equal. You're my property and I will do with you as I please. Even if you don't understand my words, you understand that now, don't you, pet?"
I swallowed. The collar's needles dug into my flesh, but Ruith's words cut into my soul. There was no escape. No hope. I blinked and lowered my head in defeat. Another tear fell, this one heavier than all the ones that came before it.
He slid his fingers over my spine appreciatively, and I shuddered. "If you want to survive this, learn quickly to be useful."
Ruith released me and sat up. The chill of the night air hit my back and in some sick, twisted way, it made me miss the warmth of him.
"Guard."
Heavy footsteps stormed into the tent.
"Take him back to his cage," Ruith ordered.
My heart fluttered in panic. The cage was the last place I wanted to be. Or was it? Perhaps being in Ruith's tent was even worse. My life had become varying shades of the same inescapable nightmare.
"Should we chain him back up?" the guards asked.
There was a brief pause as Ruith considered the question. "No," he answered at length. "Let him have what little freedom he can stand."
The guards yanked me to my feet, and this time, I didn't fight as they dragged me away.