Egyptian Night

Night thoughts

Curling up on her patch of the grassy valley floor, Jasmine tried desperately not to attract any unwanted attention. Just because the others were also captured didn't mean that they felt a mutual bond to anyone but their own family or friends; something she was not. For accidentally touching another man's foot in her light sleep she'd already earned a harsh kick to the side, which sent her tumbling several times. She'd landed just outside the circle of slaves, attracting the unwanted attention of several soldiers. With a harsh cuff, they'd dragged her back to another part of the circle and left her with an unsaid threat. It had been clear enough, though, with the murderous look in their eyes and the way their fists clenched. Apparently they didn't like having to interfere in the slave's disputes. They were much too busy getting drunk.

"Might not want to make them too mad," the quiet voice of an older man advised her. He had the kind look of a grandpa and a sorry look to his eyes. He didn't have much time left, especially in a slave's life, but he felt for the younger lot of them. They had years to suffer with the right master.

"Thanks for the advice," Jasmine whispered in an even softer tone of voice, clearly already taking his advice and keeping the dirty looks aimed in her direction to a minimum.

Curling up on the hard ground once again her thoughts drifted to Derek. He seemed different from the other soldiers. More kind, if that was even possible. Maybe he even had a conscious about what he was doing to her and many others. Even if he didn't have a conscious, she doubted that he enjoyed taking the slaves back and maybe the killing to. Whenever there had been violence on the trip he didn't get the same glint in his eyes that some of the other men did. They seemed to feed off of the pain and misery of others. Sick, right? He would only look away and find something else to do. Not high enough ranking to stop it, usually, he seemed to just want to block it out. Not that she could blame him. Her spirit of helping others had been dampened, to say the least, when she'd watched a man's throat slit for doing just that. He had been a warning to the others to stay out of the soldier's form of 'justice'. They weren't to interfere no matter what. Now she was like Derek. She tried to look away and block out the world around her. It made it slightly easier, yet drained her conscious at the same time. How could she not say something? It just wasn't right.

With those thoughts weighing heavily at her conscious, her eyelids started to droop until the cool evening swept her away to a blissful sleep.