Athenian Slave (Book 2)

Prologue

Prologue

                Charmion looked out from where she was huddled with the others in the stern of the ship. The city they approached had been spoken about by many, but it was still hard to accept her fate. She had never felt so alone. Tears still slid down her sensitive burnt cheeks. There was no hope left. The arduous journey, they had nearly completed, had shown Charmion the darker parts of life that at six summers old she never should have seen. She had been the youngest in her family, they had not expected her when she arrived, but they had named her delight. She had been loved, and cherished all her young life. She knew what ever was to come nothing would help. Even if she ended up in a good home, her life had been irrevocably changed. She was no longer free. Her family who had never let her be alone, had gone. She had no one left. The ones who had held her when she cried, comforted her when the dark scared her, and had protected her from all harm. They were all gone.

                She cried harder. Even if the men would hurt her again for making too much noise, she could not stop. The others around her did not like her much. They said she caught the attention of the bad men to often. Making them hurt as well. From what she could tell she was the youngest aboard. While being the youngest was not new to her, it was the pain, the loneliness, and the darkness that she could not stand.

               

                The city appeared before them. Columns rose, marble hit by light made the city look like lots of shiny shells all put together. She could hear the noise from where she sat huddled. Saw the hustle and bustle on the dock. She had never seen so many people all in one place. Her eyes widened. Her small hands clenched in her dirty tunic. Her hair hung in a terrible mess, and her mother would not be happy with it, especially if others were going to see her.

                The thought made her cry more. She was not going to see her mother again. Or her big sisters who argued with her, but gave her lots of hugs to make up for it. Or her big brothers, who would not let her do anything fun. They said she was too little.

                The tiny Island on which she grew up was of no consequence in the world, so small and with such a tiny village it had no name. They had had few visitors in her six summers in this world. Those that had come had shown utmost surprise at their presence. Her father had promised her that she would live a happy life. That the gods and goddess had blessed him and her mother with her presence. That she was a gift and meant for special things. But now. Now he was dead, and he would not come back. Her big, strong father had always protected her from the scary monsters. Only these monsters had killed her father, and now there was no one to protector from them anymore.

                She remembered playing on the white beaches, there were a few others around her age. She remembered how they laughed a lot. Sand spraying as they raced, the clear sea sparkling like a jewel, and how it drenched them when they splashed each other. Picking out shells with incandescent pinks and blues shimmering in the scorching sun. Her soft black hair pinned back with strips of cloth and bouncing and she ran. The loose curls always seemed to be in disarray when not tied back. Much to her mother’s dismay.

                She had just started to learn to keep house from her mother and her sisters, while her brothers had learned to tend to land. There were no warriors on their Island but they thought they had no need. Cooking, cleaning and collecting the herbs and flowers for her mother’s and Elpis’ healing potions, took up the majority of her life. As well as sneaking off to run wild with her friends on the beach. Getting into as much trouble as possible. But she never really got into trouble. Not if she looked at her father with wide eyes and looked sad.

Maybe that was why this had happened…because she had been naughty. The invaders, her father’s death, and her separations from her family. Was this punishment? Had she made the gods mad because she had not been a good girl?

                They came in the night and destroyed everything, buildings lit up the night sky, screams of terror pierced the land and ultimately those who had tried to protect the people had been cut down. Her father and Elpis’ husband to be, Akakios, among them. Falling in front of the small house she had called her home. Where she had been born, and where life as she had known it had changed forever.

Those who remained had been herded down to the beach, her family were to be torn from her, but initially they had not known that was to be their fate. There were six ships on the coast, the men were separated from the women and children first, and there were few of them left now. They were taken to the furthest boat, the cries of their women left behind them filling the beach. Her tears at the pain around her, and the pain from her chest at her father being left behind, flowed freely down her cheeks.

               

                The men of the other ships then chose at will. There seemed to rhyme or reason to the process. The elderly, the young they were all taken and separated. In one case a young mother was torn from her baby. Charmion would never forget that night and those sounds, not as long as she lived. Her two brothers were taken by one, so much stronger than her, she had never seen them so terrified, and that scared her all the more. She clung tightly to Elpis’ hand. Unable to tear her eyes from where the men had taken her brothers. Mother had tried to cling onto their hands. But she had not been able to hold on. She was taken next, but two of my sisters went with her, I wanted to go with her too. But Elpis pulled me back. Holding me close.

Elpis was taken next. Elpis’ hand had slipped from the end of Charmion’s, she was not strong enough to hold on. She screamed as Elpis was ripped away from her. She was not a good sister, she could not hold on. With her screams, she was left alone in the darkness, it was closing in around her. It was then she was picked up as if she weighed nothing, and with her slightness she probably did way such to the large male. She tried to struggle but nothing worked. He would not let her go. Nothing she tried could stop the monsters. And no one was left to help her.

                There were others already aboard, some in poorer conditions than others. Along the journey more were added to their number with similar stories as her own, but now their fates would be shared. The fate of the slave.

                Charmion’s stomach ached with lack of food, her skin had burned under the scorching sun, and the bruises made her uncomfortable, no matter the position she sat in. She cried harder. Nothing would be the same again.

                With a start, Charmion came awake.

                She shook her head, her hands shaking as they tugged at the tunic she wore. It was stuck to her skin by the cold sweat she had acquired in her sleep. It was the same dream as always. And yet what made it worse was that she knew it was not a dream, but a reality she had lived through so many summers ago. And life had only become worse since.