Laria
They arrived at the next oasis just before dusk. Judging from the crumbling mud-brick ruins nearby, it had once been a thriving place, where caravans had rested and merchants had sought out foreign and exotic wares. Laria even recognized the remnants of an old slave auction block, like many she had been sold at before. But the oasis was now abandoned, and the pool of water in its center had now dwindled to a mere puddle. Still, it was enough for the camel to drink and for Laria to bathe herself.
She shed her clothes in full view of her new master, hoping to please him thereby. As she stepped gingerly into the tepid water, however, he suddenly turned away from her.
“Why do you avert your eyes, Master Roderick?” Laria asked.
“Because you are naked.”
Laria’s heart sank. This was not the reaction she had hoped to elicit from him.
“Is it my scars, master? Is that why my body displeases you?”
“No,” he said quickly. “Your body does not displease me, Laria. On the contrary, I find your beauty to be mesmerizing.”
“Then why do you avert your eyes?”
“To grant you your privacy,” he told her gruffly.
Laria cocked her head curiously. “Master, what is ‘privacy’?”
Roderick paused, as if taken aback by Laria’s question. But he quickly composed himself and explained.
“Privacy is the ability to keep things to yourself, to have space that’s only for you. It’s important, especially for people who are free.”
Laria frowned, confused. “But why is it important? I don’t understand.”
Roderick let out a frustrated sigh. “It just… is, Laria. Trust me on this.”
Laria gave a small nod, though the idea of freedom was foreign to her. She had been a slave since birth and was used to being told what to do without having to think for herself. Roderick’s determination to free her made her uncomfortable; why would someone care about her wellbeing so much? He spoke of it with such passion that it almost felt like he was trying to convince himself.
“Laria, where are you from?”
She looked up at him and smiled. “I don’t know, Master Roderick. I was sold into slavery as a child, and I’ve never known any other way of life. Until you became my master, I’ve always been sold from one man to another.”
“You are not a slave anymore, Laria,” he said firmly. “You are free.”
Fear seized Laria’s gut and tears welled up in her eyes. “I am grateful for your kindness, Master Roderick. But… I don’t know how to live as a free person.”
“Then start by choosing your own path.”
“But what does that mean?” she asked hesitantly.
“It means you no longer have to answer to anyone but yourself,” Roderick replied. “You may act for yourself now. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Laria’s gaze shifted down to the pool of tepid water in which she stood. “I don’t know what I want. I’ve always been told what to do.”
Roderick shifted uncomfortably. She could tell that he was struggling to find the right words to say.
“Well,” he said at length, “you don’t have to decide right now. Just know that you have the freedom to do what you want.”
“What if I want to please you? What if I want to be your slave?”
Blood rushed swiftly to his cheeks. “I cannot be your master, Laria. I detest the very thought of owning another person.”
Laria looked at him with confusion. She had never met a man like Roderick before. He was different from other men, kind and gentle. He didn’t lust after her body like the other men who had owned her did.
“But I am happy being a slave,” Laria said. “I have everything I need. A roof over my head, food to eat, and a purpose. Without a master, I am nothing.”
“That isn’t true, Laria. You are more than just a slave. You have your own desires and your own thoughts. You can be whoever you want to be.”
Laria shook her head, feeling lost and confused. She couldn’t understand Roderick’s insistence on freedom when all she wanted was to be owned and cared for by someone who she trusted.
“Master Roderick,” she said softly, “you are a good man. I can trust you, and I know that you will take care of me. Please…let me be your slave.”
Roderick’s eyes sparked with an emotion that Laria couldn’t quite place. He stepped forward and took her hand, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
“Laria,” he whispered, “I cannot own you. But I will take care of you. I will be your friend and your guide, but I cannot be your master.”
Laria withdrew her hand, feeling a sense of rejection. She struggled to understand why Roderick refused to be her master when he was the only one who had treated her with kindness and respect. She couldn’t bear the thought of being alone and unprotected in a world full of danger and uncertainty.
“Please, Master Roderick,” she pleaded, “I beg you to reconsider. I don’t know how to be free. I need someone to protect me and give me purpose. I need you.”
Roderick sighed heavily, his expression pained. “Laria, I cannot give you what you’re asking for. It goes against everything I believe in.”
Laria felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She couldn’t understand why he was so adamant about this freedom, this thing that only brought her confusion and fear. For her, freedom was an abstract concept that meant nothing.
“Please, Master Roderick, I don’t know how to be anything but a slave.”
Roderick’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer to her, though still averting his gaze.
“Laria, listen to me. Being free doesn’t mean you have to be alone. It doesn’t mean you have to be unprotected. You can still have purpose and direction in your life. In fact, life will have more purpose for you–more meaning.”
Laria couldn’t believe what he was saying. How could she have purpose without a master? How could her life have meaning if she only lived for herself?
“I don’t understand,” she murmured.
Roderick sighed and turned away. “Never mind all that. We can talk about the meaning of your freedom later. For now, we need to discuss more pressing matters.”
“Of course, Master Roderick,” she said demurely as she cupped her hands in the tepid water and splashed it over her bare skin. Roderick scowled and shook his head, as if casting some sullen thoughts out of his head. She hoped she had not displeased him, though it was difficult to tell.
“I am seeking the lost city of Xulthar, to defeat the dark power that dwells within its walls and claim its treasures for my own. My friends, who had pledged to journey with me, have abandoned me to the desert wastes. That is why I travel alone.”
“I see,” said Laria, smiling to set him at ease as she washed the sand and dirt from her arms. “I think that the slaver was taking me to Xulthar as well.”
“Really?” said Roderick, suddenly interested.
“Yes,” Laria told him. “At least, that’s what I overheard him tell the black-cloaked man back in the city. He was mumbling and cursing to himself about it–something about the pay not being worth the journey.”
“Why was he taking you to Xulthar? The city has lain in ruins for more than a century.”
His earnestness took Laria aback. She didn’t know how to answer.
“I am sorry, Master Roderick. I’m just a slave, and not very knowledgeable about these sorts of things.”
“Never mind,” Roderick said gruffly. “You’re free now, and I’ll be your guide, at least until the next town.”
Laria felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of adventure, but also a twinge of disappointment that Roderick only thought of himself as her guide, and nothing more. She shook the feeling away and focused on Roderick’s words.
“Thank you, Master Roderick. I will follow you wherever you go.”
“Good,” he said, his expression hardening. “Now finish washing yourself. We need to set out from this place as soon as possible.”
Laria frowned. “Why is that, Master Roderick?”
Roderick hesitated before answering her. “I encountered a fey creature at the last oasis, and I do not trust these waters.”
“A fey creature?” Laria asked as she finished washing the dust out of her hair.
“Yes,” Roderick explained. “She was an undine nymph, terrible and fair. She put a spell upon my friends, and tried to bargain with me for their freedom.”
Laria’s eyes widened in shock. She had never heard of a water nymph, but she could imagine what sorts of powers they must possess–and how dangerous they must be, in this burning desert where water could mean the difference between life and death.
“What sort of a bargain did she try to strike with you, Master Roderick?”
Roderick looked away. “She asked me for a kiss. I sensed an evil intention behind her request, however, and denied it. Now come, let us go.”
Laria started to climb out of the pool, her skin already drying under the hot desert son. Just as she was about to step out, something glinted at the bottom of the pool–a small shiny object that seemed to be calling to her. She reached down into the sun-warm water to scoop it up. In her wet palm rested a tiny silver locket, its surface engraved with intricate floral designs.
She showed it to Roderick, and his reaction was immediate. He nearly fell over in surprise.
“I gave that locket to the nymph!” he exclaimed. “It was my payment for freeing my friends. But how did it end up here?”
Laria looked back at him, baffled. “I don’t know, Master Roderick,” she said softly.
Roderick shook his head. “The undine nymph’s powers must extend here, too,” he mused aloud. “Perhaps she is playing tricks with us.” He looked back at Laria then and smiled sadly. “You can keep it if you want, Laria.”
Laria stared at him in disbelief–she had never owned money or property before! She knew that this little trinket must be valuable; she just didn’t know what do with it or how to feel about having it suddenly thrust upon her like this.
“I think I should give it back,” she finally said in a quiet voice, offering the locket to Roderick with trembling fingers.
He hesitated for a moment before taking the locket from her hands and slipping it into his pocket. “If that’s what you wish,” he said, then turned away again, averting his eyes from her naked form.
Laria felt a pang of disappointment as Roderick once again looked away from her. She had hoped that Roderick would have noticed her in some way, especially since he seemed like such a good man. She had to find some way to convince him to be her master.
She reluctantly dressed herself, donning the slaver’s light linen robes that fit loosely over her slender frame. Then, she followed Roderick to where he had tethered the camel. The animal was still loaded with the supplies and provisions that the slaver had brought with them for the journey to Xulthar–the slaver that Roderick had slain.
“Let’s go,” Roderick said curtly as he mounted the beast. Laria climbed up behind him, and together they set out across the burning desert sands.
Roderick
The deserts stretched from the foothills of the Kevonas to the southern reachest of the Arabuli Basin and the westernmost shores of the Vilayan Sea. Once, the lands had been green and lush, or so the legends told. But so many empires had risen, fallen, and become forgotten since that time that the desert wastes now seemed as permanent as the unrelenting sun that baked it. On the edges of the Arabuli basin, men still strove to eke out a meager existence as they labored to make the land bloom once more, but the plague years had wiped out nearly a century of their work, and the deserts had steadily reclaimed their own.
Still, the wastes were not entirely void of inhabitants, as the caravans still found it profitable to cross the deserts directly, evading the pirates of the Vilayan and the tolls of the southern principalities. Where caravans crossed, oasis towns sprung up to service them, with mud-brick walls to protect them from the bandits and desert raiders who followed in the caravans’ wake.
It was to one of these walled oasis towns that Roderick now brought the rescued slave girl. He did not wish to return the way he had come, and be taken as a failure, so instead he led them several days’ journey to the southeast, where a short range of age-weathered mountains offered some sparse and rocky grazing lands, with half a dozen seasonal wadis that ran for no more than a few months. The land was not fruitful enough to support a kingdom, but it did offer a welcome respite from the desolate wastes.
“Have you been to this place before, Master Roderick?” Laria asked as they approached the gates of the walled town.
“No,” Roderick admitted. “But I’ve been to enough like them.”
The tired plodding of their camel’s hooves clopped monotonously on the dusty ground. Laria took a deep breath and once again broke the silence that had fallen between them.
“Forgive me, Master Roderick, but what do you intend when we arrive?”
“I’m not your master,” Roderick said gruffly. “And as for what I intend to do, that depends on what we find. Perhaps we can find someone who can help you start a new life: someone who can teach you a trade or find you a respectable position in one of the households or guilds here.”
Laria’s face fell as she looked at him with pleading eyes.
“But I don’t want to leave you,” she said. “I don’t know how to be independent.”
Roderick sighed and stopped the camel just inside the gates of the town. He turned to Laria and looked into her eyes.
“I understand that it’s scary, Laria. But staying by my side isn’t an option. You need to take charge of your own life.”
Laria’s eyes filled with tears and she looked away from Roderick’s gaze.
“I know you think that I’m just a slave and that my life is miserable, but I’m happy with you,” she said. “I don’t want to live without you as my master.”
Roderick shook his head. He couldn’t understand why this slave girl didn’t want to be free.
“Look here, Laria,” he said sternly. “You have your own ideas and emotions. You have the power to take control of your own destiny. You deserve better than this life of slavery.”
“What else can I do?” she asked meekly.
That was a good question. He couldn’t well leave her to fend for herself in this dangerous border town–not unless he found some place that would take her without simply enslaving her again.
“Why don’t you tell me?” he asked. “Surely, you must have acquired some useful skills in your time as a slave.”
Laria paused to think about it for a moment. “Well,” she said slowly, “I am fairly good at weaving. I learned from one of my first master’s slaves, who used to weave blankets and rugs for the master to sell.”
“Excellent,” said Roderick. “Weaving is a very useful skill in these parts. Now, let’s see if this town has someone who’s willing to take you on as an apprentice.”
“But–“
He ignored her protests and dismounted, leading the camel by the reigns up to the town’s main gate.
“Ho there!” said Roderick, approaching the stout guard. “I seek a place for us to rest and spend the night.”
The guard squinted at Roderick skeptically. “And what business do you have in these parts?” he asked.
“We are travelers from a distant land. My friend is a skilled weaver who is looking for a master to apprentice with. Perchance there is one in your town?”
The guard squinted at Laria in the dim light of dusk, then turned back to Roderick again. “There may be someone who can take her on, although it’s not common for outsiders to come in and seek apprenticeship. Ask at the tavern. It’s down the main street, fifty paces from the wall.”
Roderick thanked the guard and followed him through the gate. He led the camel to the town’s watering trough and helped Laria dismount.
“I don’t want to be an apprentice weaver,” she told him through clenched teeth.
“Then maybe the tavern will take another wench,” he hissed back. “Either way, our ways part here, in this town.”
The tavern was a seedy establishment, filled with rough-looking men who eyed Laria hungrily as she followed Roderick inside. The smell of stale ale and greasy food hung heavy in the air, and the sound of raucous laughter and bawdy jokes filled the room. Roderick ignored the stares of the patrons and approached the barkeep.
“Good evening,” he said, his voice flat and emotionless. “We are looking for a room for the night. And perhaps, if possible, a job for my companion.”
The barkeep gave them both a once-over, then nodded. “I have a room available, but as for a job for the wench,” he glanced over at Laria with a suggestive smirk, “I’m sure we can find something for her to do.”
Laria recoiled and took a step back towards Roderick, who stepped forward and placed a heavy silver coin on the counter. “We will take the room. And perhaps a meal as well.”
The barkeep’s eyes widened at the sight of the coin and he quickly handed over a key to one of the upstairs rooms. Roderick grabbed Laria’s arm and pulled her towards the stairs. He was beginning to think that coming to this place was a mistake.
Once they were inside the room, Roderick slammed the door shut and turned to face Laria. “Listen to me,” he said, his voice low. “If you don’t want to stay in this place, we can leave in the morning and find another town.”
Laria looked up at him, her eyes wide and pleading. “Please, Roderick,” she begged. “I don’t want to be alone. I’ll stay with you and help you on your journey.”
Roderick shook his head, his expression firm. “It’s too dangerous,” he said. “I can’t risk putting you in harm’s way. You need to find some place to settle down.”
“Alone? In these parts? I would rather be a slave.”
Roderick softened at the desperation in her voice. He walked over to her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulder. “I won’t leave you alone,” he assured her. “But we need to be careful. This place is no good for us.”
Laria nodded, tears streaming down her face. “I understand,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But what will we do?”
Roderick sat down on a wooden chair and motioned for her to take the bed. “We’ll rest tonight and then head out early in the morning,” he told her. “Not all of the towns in this country are as rough as this one.”
But then, a knock came. Roderick stood up and walked cautiously towards the door. “Who is it?” he asked, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“My name is Jamal,” came a voice from outside. “I’m a merchant, of sorts, and the richest man in this town. I have a proposition to make.”
Roderick narrowed his eyes at the man. He had no idea what he wanted but he knew it wasn’t good. Reluctantly, he stepped aside and gestured for Jamal to come in.
“Thank you,” said Jamal as he entered the room. “I heard you were looking for a place for your, ahem, ‘traveling companion’ to stay and work in our town.” He nodded meaningfully in Laria’s direction. “I am more than willing to take her off of your hands, and can compensate you generously for the privilege.”
Roderick frowned. “You mean, you want to buy her? As a slave?”
Jamal paused, as if measuring Roderick’s reaction. “Yes,” he said at length. “If you wish to speak plain, that is exactly what I propose.”
Roderick was horrified. He stepped in front of Laria to protect her from his gaze. “No!” he said firmly. “She is not a piece of merchandise to be bought or sold!”
Jamal held up his hands. “It was not my intent to offend you. I merely thought that it would be a beneficial arrangement for both of you, and a profitable one for us.”
Roderick drew himself up to his full height and glared at the man. “She’s not for sale,” he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Jamal shrugged nonchalantly. “That’s too bad,” he said in a voice that suddenly sounded menacing. “Because if you don’t accept my offer, I know plenty of people who would be more than willing to take her off your hands.” He glanced meaningfully at Laria before turning back to Roderick with a smirk on his face.
Roderick felt rage bubble up inside him but he forced himself to remain calm. It would do no good to shed blood in this place. If the town’s guard didn’t come after him and Laria, the ruffians in the tavern certainly would. And if he died, where would Laria go then?
“You are not welcome here,” Roderick growled through gritted teeth. “Leave now before I do something we will both regret.”
“It seems you already have,” said Jamal, narrowing his gaze. Then, without another word, he slowly backed out of the room, keeping his eyes on Roderick until he was out into the hall.
As soon as he was gone, Roderick closed the door and turned to Laria. “Are you okay?” he asked.
Laria nodded, her eyes bright with gratitude. “Thank you for protecting me,” she murmured. “He did not seem like he would have made a good master.”
“Your days of having a master are over,” Roderick told her as he helped her to her feet. “Come, let’s get out of here. This town clearly isn’t safe for either of us.”
They crept out quietly into the hall and turned away from the main room, seeking some other way out to the street. Fortunately, a back door by the kitchen led to the alley behind the establishment. Roderick paused only long enough to make sure that no one saw them escape.
Ouside, they hurried through the alley, trying to make their way out of the town as quickly as possible. The sun had already set and the stars were starting to come out, leaving the narrow streets and alleys of the town shrouded in darkness. Roderick kept a tight grip on the hilt of his sword, but was still almost taken by surprise when three cloaked figures emerged from the shadows ahead of them.
Laria gasped and shrank closer to Roderick’s side as he drew his sword. The men slowly approached them, their faces hidden by deep hoods.
“What do you want?” Roderick demanded, his voice low but carrying a hint of menace.
“We have business with you,” one of them said in a gravelly voice. He gestured toward Laria with a gloved hand. “Give us the girl and you can go on your way.”
Roderick stepped protectively in front of Laria and raised his sword higher. “She is under my protection,” he said firmly. “I will not let you take her.”
The man laughed, an eerie sound that sent shivers down both Roderick and Laria’s spines. “You are brave,” he said mockingly. “But I’m afraid we cannot let you leave with her.” His two companions moved forward menacingly, blocking off any escape routes Roderick might have taken.
Roderick glanced at Laria out of the corner of his eye before turning back to face the men again. “What do you want from me?” he asked in a low voice, ready to fight.
The man smiled menacingly and held up a small pouch of coins. “We were going to offer this as payment for her,” he said slowly, dangling the pouch temptingly before them. “But it seems we can no longer be so generous.”
Roderick struck first, lunging forward with his sword. The three men dodged his attack with ease, their movements practiced and precise. They were clearly skilled fighters, and Roderick realized too late that he was outnumbered and outmatched.
Laria let out a scream as one of the cloaked figures grabbed her from behind, covering her mouth to stifle her cries. Roderick turned to see her struggling against her captor, her eyes wide with terror.
“Let her go!” he yelled, turning to face the two remaining assailants. They circled him, their swords drawn and ready for attack. Roderick gritted his teeth, wondering how he had ended up in this situation, outnumbered and outmatched. The odds were not in his favor.
He took a deep breath and steadied himself, sizing up his opponents. They were both well-built and intimidating, with the muscles in their arms rippling as they gripped their swords. Roderick knew that he had to act fast before they could strike. He lunged forward, thrusting his sword towards the first man’s chest. The man parried the attack easily, stepping back and countering with a swift slice towards Roderick’s shoulder. Roderick managed to deflect the blow, but just barely.
“Leave him,” said the man holding Laria captive. “We have the slave girl–let’s go.”
“No,” said the man circling to Roderick’s right, who was evidently their leader. “This man insulted Jamal. We should make an example.”
Roderick took advantage of the momentary distraction and lunged again, this time aiming for the leader’s belly. But the man was quick to react, dodging the attack with a deft sidestep and making a retaliatory swing towards Roderick’s head. Roderick ducked and rolled, coming back up on his feet a few paces away from his attackers. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his senses heightened and his reactions sharpened. He had fought many battles before, but this one felt different–it was personal.
He glanced quickly at Laria, who was still struggling against her captor. Her eyes locked onto his, and he could see the terror in them, but also a glimmer of hope. He knew he couldn’t let her down.
The leader stepped forward again, his sword gleaming in the moonlight. Roderick braced himself, his muscles ready to explode into action. Suddenly, an idea struck him. He remembered how the slaver had been distracted by the claw talisman, and pulled it out from under his shirt.
“Use your magic, Laria!” he shouted as he tossed it to her. Of course, he knew that she had no magic, but Jamal’s thugs didn’t know that, and he was counting on their fear and superstitions to work in his favor.
Laria caught the talisman and held it up, chanting in a language that she had never spoken before. The thugs froze, their eyes fixed on the talisman as if it was the key to their doom.
Roderick seized the opportunity and charged at the leader, his sword flashing in the air. The leader tried to block the strike, but his fear had made him slow and clumsy. Roderick’s sword cut through the leader’s defenses, slicing open his chest and spilling his guts onto the ground. The other thug lunged at him, but Roderick parried the strike and sliced through his sword arm. He screamed in agony as Roderick held his sword to his neck. “I…I yield!” he shouted, dropping his sword and falling to his knees.
“Let her go!” Roderick shouted, turning on the last of Jamal’s men. He had released Laria as soon as she had started chanting, and now turned and fled, abandoning his dead and disarmed friends.
Roderick turned to the man who had yielded to him, and now knelt quivering on the rough, uneven cobblestones. It would be so easy to slit the man’s throat. The gods knew he probably deserved it, and in a town like this, Roderick had no doubt that he could get away with it.
But that was not Roderick’s way.
“Get out of her,” he said, knocking the man to the ground with the flat of his blad. The thug hastily scurried away and disappeared into the shadows.
Laria looked in horror at the man that Roderick had slain. His corpse lay-face down in his own gore, and the rapidly spreading pool of his blood now stained the dark cobblestones. But when she turned and looked at Roderick, she had much the same expression on her face as she’d had when he’d slain the slaver.
“You saved me again,” she said, her voice full of eager gratitude.
He snatched the claw talisman from her hand. “You didn’t do too badly yourself. Was that a real spell you chanted, or gibberish?”
“Gibberish,” she said, smiling. “I might not be strong, but I can think fast on my feet.”
“Yes, well, we’d better both be fast on our feet and get out of this place before this Jamal finds out that we’ve killed his three best men. Come.”
He hastily wiped off his blade on the shirt of the dead man and took Laria by the hand. They ran down the alley to the wall, and followed it to the watering trough where their camel still waited. Thankfully, no one had stolen it yet.
“Master Roderick,” Laria asked him as he helped her to mount the beast. “We make a good team, don’t we?”
He grunted non-committally and leapted onto the beast. A few moments later, they were free of the town, riding out into the darkness of a moonless desert night.
