The Appropriated Armor Pt. 02

Each bump the carriage went over sent a sharp sensation along Zahava's spine. She had no idea of the destination. The day began with such promise and now her fate was in limbo. She desperately tried to undo the ropes on her hands to no avail. She was warned against yelling for help as she was dumped into the back of the carriage.

"Why me," she whispered, "why me?"

She slept intermittently as the carriage made its way down the road. The man must have stopped a few times. She had woken up to find bread and a canteen of water in the hay. She consumed them with a great ferocity. She thought of Layne and how scared he probably is. He doesn't know where she is. Her family was probably scared as well. She had no idea if she'd see them again.

However the he words "Freedom Bay" was the most terrifying thing she'd heard. That was one of the most notorious slave trading outposts in all the land. Thousands of Aapians were bought and sold there every year. Taken from the eastern continent, often times sold by their-own race, to the slavers at Freedom Bay. Rarely were Zurians sold there. If they were, they were mostly female and would end up as concubines for the elite ruling class. It was better fate than the Aapians, who some considered to be subhuman. They would often be worked to death in extreme conditions and be discarded as such. Slavery still existed in most of the countries on either continent only a few places forbade it. Zahava knew her fate would be sealed if she were to be sold at Freedom Bay. The rest of her life would be spent in a brothel servicing the highest bidder or be forced to carry rich man's child and never see it again after it was born.

She'd heard rumors about how much a Zurian could go for. Her red hair and fair skin would make her a much more sought after commodity. A virgin could fetch up to 1000 gold ducats. She was probably worth half of that since she was recently deflowered. She'd heard rumors that a woman's cunt could be repaired and passed off as a virgin.

Suddenly the carriage stopped and the man opened the door.

"Don't make any sudden moves," the man said as he walked into the back and grabbed her by the arm.

She realized it was sometime at night. The moon shined down on the two of them as he drug her towards a small dwelling in a wooded area. The man knocked on the door loudly. There was no response. He knocked with a greater intensity. Finally the door opened and a dark skinned woman appeared.

"Yes," she hissed.

She looked at the man.

"I see," she laughed and opened the door for them.

Zahava stared at the old dark skinned woman. Her face was withered and old. Her hair was bright white. Her eyes were nearly hidden due old age.

"Haven't you seen an Aapian before," the old woman let out.

"No," Zahava replied.

"Both of you shut up," the man snapped, "read her fucking palm or play with those cards and let me know her future.

"Very well," she replied.

She led them to a small table. Zahava sat down at one end and the old witch at the other. The man sat on the side and threw down a gold coin.

"Give me your hands," the old woman requested.

"No," Zahava replied.

"Do it," the man yelled before banging his fist onto the table.

Zahava reluctantly put her bound delicate hands onto the table. The witch grabbed one with her weathered and dry hand. She turned it over and touched her palm.

"No," the old hag exhaled.

"What," Zahava replied.

"I sense danger," she shot back.

The old woman seemed to be nervous and scared.

"Let this girl be," the old hag exhaled.

"Why should I," he replied.

"Her future is uncertain," she replied, "difficult to see what will happen. But I sense danger if you sell her at Freedom Bay. Take her back to her home. Let her live out her life in obscurity. If she's sold into servitude I sense great calamity will follow her."

"The world is all ready fucked," he replied.

"Yes," the old witch replied, "but selling her to the slavers will be a huge mistake."

The man looked at the witch. He shot a smile to her.

"What about me," he asked, "Am I in her future?"

The old woman touched Zahava's hand again and traced the lines on her palm.

"No," she replied, "after you sell her, you will find the peace you are looking for. She will provide you with enough money to live the rest of your life in comfort."

"Good enough for me," he laughed as he grabbed Zahava by the arm and forced her out of the small dwelling.

He didn't say anything until he got to the carriage and let out deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, "I can't be apart of this war. Those savages on the eastern continents are doomed to failure. We've tried making peace with them before and it always ends in disaster. When they're left to their own devices they always fail and soon attempt to rectify it. Either by starting a war or asking for help."

"That's why you're doing this," she replied.

"Yes," he replied, "once I deliver you to my destination I'll have enough money to live out this war and all wars to come in the southern islands. I don't think the Royal Family was in their right minds when they created this deal."

"I'm just a piece of meat," she asked.

"Yes," he replied, "a piece that will make me rich and free from the nightmare this world is about to endure."

He tied her up and shoved her back into the carriage. He slammed the door shut and locked it. Once again Zahava's fate was uncertain and as he moved the carriage forward she began to cry.