A Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (i am reading a book txt) ๐
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- Author: Theodore Brun
Read book online ยซA Burning Sea by Theodore Brun (i am reading a book txt) ๐ยป. Author - Theodore Brun
โOn your feet, cripple.โ Rough hands seized him and pulled him up again. As they did, his gaze was drawn beyond them, beyond the ship, out over the water and upwards. In that instant, everything and everyone around him vanished. He was transfixed. Stretching upwards towards a jagged skyline was a mountain of stone. He saw white walls striped with bands of red, huge houses of stone of three, four, even five storeys, vast temples of red and white with domes that bulged up into the sky. And everywhere people. Swarms of them on land and on water. Dozens atop the walls armed with shield and spear. Hundreds on the stone quayside, moving up and down the stairs leading to the choppy harbour water which stank of rotten fish and tar and human waste.
โWelcome to the centre of the world, slave,โ Ramedios sneered, and shoved him towards the gangway.
He felt a strange mixture of humiliation and indifference, being sized up like a bull at a fair. As if he were a mere observer, looking out from the top of the auction block over the sea of faces, with no say in the matter, nothing to do but stand there.
Most faces were uninterested. But some eyes darted and glanced sidelong, shifting from him to the crowd. He noticed a new bidder, a dark-skinned fellow, thin on hair with a shocking red beard, wrapped in a sky-blue robe like a woman. The best Erlan could tell, this man was the fourth bidder. Four different fates beckoned, and as the price rose he wondered which the Norns had chosen.
Earlier, he had watched with impotent rage as Aska was paraded back and forth until eventually a man in a wide-brimmed fur hat had won the bid. The last heโd seen of his one-eyed companion was the fur hat bobbing through the crowd. The gods only knew what fate awaited Aska. Perhaps he was destined for the manโs cooking pot.
Later, he saw Ildur sold. Now it was his turn.
The sun beat down with its merciless heat. He felt he would melt away entirely if he had to stand there much longer. There was a stick wedged between his back and his elbows, meant to control him and make him stand up straight. He rolled his shoulders, trying to find some relief from its sharp bite, but all that did was earn him a jab in his ribs from the overseerโs staff. He jerked away, his foot turned, grating the misshapen spur of bone in his ankle. The old wound. His old weakness. His knee crumpled in pain.
Silanos wasnโt surprised. He had already noticed the way the Northman favoured his right leg and the slightly twisted angle of his left foot. The barbarian hadnโt shifted it once, not until this moment, and as soon as he did his left leg gave way like the stem of a wine glass. In truth, it was rather pathetic to see how easily he was felled.
โThat man is a cripple,โ he yelled. It hardly needed saying but there had been an uncomfortable amount of interest in this one and the price was getting too high. Here was his chance to shake off the competition. โWhat do you take us for!โ He pushed forward, swelling with sham indignation. โAre we a herd of peasants to be gulled out of our gold?โ
The slaver had been content, thus far, to watch proceedings from the back of the auctioneerโs platform, slouched under an awning. โI assure you, friend,โ he called back, โwhatever the manโs defects, youโll never find a warrior more deadly with a sword.โ
โHorse shit!โ Silanos cried. โI know ten street-sweepers could best this fellow in a fight.โ He turned to the crowd. โThis man is playing us for fools. This cripple canโt fight. Heโs damaged goods. Great God, he can hardly stand!โ Silanos felt the sparks of his outrage take. Other bidders were complaining now, and the Northman wasnโt helping the slaverโs cause any; his face was a grimace of pain.
The slaver was arguing now, trying to quell the growing jeers of the crowd. At last the auctioneer tugged the Northman off the block. Angry words flew about. Then Silanos saw his moment of triumph; the rich Armenian, his main rival in the bid, turned away in disgust. The auctioneer was already pulling forward the next lot and the slaverโs men were dragging away the Northman.
Silanos smiled and followed them through the crowd.
Erlan wasnโt sure what had just happened. But the result was clear enough: he was still in chains and still a captive of Ramedios. He felt cheated. One day, he promised himself, he would pay the double-dealing Greek back in kind but right now any fate was better than remaining his prisoner.
They threw him back in the lock-up Ramedios had hired for his slaves. Erlan slumped down in the filthy sawdust. He was exhausted, his mind most of all, and for a while he let sleep slip over him like a welcome shroud. . .
He was recalled to his senses by a sharp kick to his ankle. โGet up, cripple. He wants you.โ
He was dragged to his feet and led back outside to where Ramedios had set up a booth for the day. The slaver was reclining in the shade on a makeshift couch, quaffing wine out of a silver goblet. There was another man with him, also with goblet in hand. To Erlanโs surprise, he recognized the sky-blue robe and red beard of the bidder who had reduced the auction to farce.
โStrip him,โ Ramedios ordered.
โJust the
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