Sabit struggled to wake from the pack of terrors that piled upon her like wild dogs in her slumber. Her head pounded. Her throat burned. Cold metal weighed on her wrists.
Forcing open her eyes, Sabit slowly focused on the dimly-lit roof far above. Distant sunlight smeared across the ceiling of rough stucco. She lay on a straw mat on the floor, her arms stretched above her head. Bronze shackles encircled her wrists, chained to a ring set in the wall. Sabit’s shoulder burned, hot and tender. Her head throbbed and her muscles were stiff, but Sabit’s body seemed otherwise unharmed.
Alongside Sabit were others stretched on mats on the floor, some chained, most not. Most of them of them bore the long, thin welts of whip-wounds across their backs. A woman in a dingy white dress glided among the fallen, applying poultices and tending to bandages. Upon the woman’s shoulder a tattoo of bright yellow ink contrasted with the dark brown tones of her skin. The swirls and twists of the symbol clawed at Sabit’s eyes with the roiling energy of dark sorcery. Her heart raced. Her breathing came in rapid pants. Her shoulder throbbed in desperate agony. What would happen to her, chained to this wall?
The woman turned, the motion hiding the mark from Sabit’s gaze. Sabit felt the icy grip of fear around her heart melt like snow gripped in a fist. The woman smiled and approached.
“Rest easy,” she said dabbing poultice on Sabit’s aching head. “You are have been claimed by the merchant Heguir. He is not needlessly cruel. You will be fed and cared for so long as you follow his will. You have nothing to fear here.” Her encouraging smile did not reach her eyes, the deep wells of their sadness untouched.
“You have been claimed by him as well?” Sabit asked.
“Yes. And my greatest suffering has been when I struggled to escape. You would be wise not to try to–”
“My captor is awake!” The booming voice of Heguir cut off the woman’s words. He limped into the room, leaning on a staff. Two beefy guards flanked the merchant, one of them holding Sabit’s spear. “Let’s see how my newest girl has fared against the nightmares?”
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Photo by Luděk Maděryč from Pexels: https://www.pexels.com/photo/metal-chain-in-grayscale-and-closeup-photo-86733/
Wayfarings of Sabit: Chains is copyright (c) 2018 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every Thursday (and the occasional Monday). You can support this and other stories on Patreon: https://patreon.com/michaelsmiller Find more sword and sorcery fiction at http://ipressgames.com/fiction/.