The TwiceBorn

Caught Within The Nightmare Of Being

"We are each other's harvest"--Gwendolyn Brooks 

This was why he drank. Because if he didn't, his mind would always be turned inward and questioning all the whys and why nots. If he drank enough, his deepest thoughts were centered around keeping his balance when he tried to stand, and if he could get his dick out of his trousers fast enough before he pissed himself. And all of that suited him fine.

"Merit! Duran! Come git these two!" Janus' strident bawl kicked off a loud chorus amongst the tied equistags as they renewed their efforts to pull free of their ties. Gre watched as two ragged hostlers came running up from the back stalls to take the reins. One of the boys was canyon-bred, squatty and muscled with unruly black hair sticking up in wild tufts on his head. His face was flat and devoid of expression and Gre was suddenly curious as to how much Janus had paid for him.

"How much is that boy worth?" Gre asked, curious. It appeared that the slave business was booming, so that meant more coin in pocket all the way around. When him and Behrin had been stewed to the gills, they'd often spoken about getting rich off the slave trade.

"Maybe—" Gre thought with a bit of tired hope. "—that time is finally coming around." And if that were true, his future plans included all the ale he could drink and riding his pony off into the great unknown.

"Merit?" Janus' eyes lit up, which was no surprise to Gre. Everyone loved to talk about their slaves. It was a game that played out several times a day in any town him and Behrin went to. Buying slaves, selling slaves, talking about slaves, looking at slaves and discussing all the advantages and disadvantages of one over the other. And Janus knew Gre was not planning on acquiring either boy; it was simply a chance for him to show off his good standing and bargaining prowess.

"Well...I paid a gold piece fer him a bit back but prices have gone up since then. He's strong, a good worker but a tetch slow. Been kicked a few. Jest not fast enough around the 'stags."

Gre nodded and glanced at the other boy. This one did not have the hangdog look of slavery on his face and his movements were casual and unhurried amidst all the chaos around him. He also wasn't Canyon-bred. His skin was dark but had been made so by the sun and his eyes were a brilliant green. He was slight, wiry like Janus, but his breeches were untorn, his tunic reasonably clean. Gre pointed at him.

"That one. You get him from Behrin?"

"Well he's not really mine. I gotta pay him. Came up from some bitty town 'cross the grasslands, saying he needed work. I didn't have any slaves then, so I took him on. Refuge here, seemed like it growed overnight, so I was able to pick up some boys here and there to hep me out. He's kinda my head hostler, keeps the otherns in line. Mostly takes care of the stags, he's good wid 'em."

Janus paused and reached into his back pocket and drew out a small, grimy but brightly colored ball of Juxun. He tucked it carefully in his jaw then dug another one out as equally filthy as the first.

"Whut about ya?" He held the small sticky ball out to Gre. Gre hastily shook his head. Juxun tasted like burnt wood to him and how somebody could enjoy that, he didn't know.