The Unbidden: A Nocuous World (3) (Long Parts)

Chapter 1 (Part 1)

The heat from the sun reflecting off the scorching desert sands made the covering on the wagon almost entirely useless. That's what I thought until I realized there were dozens of other slaves marching in the open nearby. I had no clue how far we'd traveled or just how much time had passed.

One thing I knew for certain was the sound of helpless people being beaten and yelled at for failing to march. There was one thing I felt a guilty relief for; it was that I wasn't one of them. Everyone had become emaciated due to the forced march, and some of the children had fallen behind. The only reason I knew that was because of their shrill screams as a whip cracked across flesh. The covering did nothing to mute the sound. I winced each time I heard it.

It seemed like each day that passed made another person fall out of the march. Just listening to the conversations of the foreigners after some time gave me enough to pick up on some of what they were talking about. At one point they mentioned we were about a month from some place called the 'Grand Plateau'. I was only able to piece that much out because several of them would talk about the place a lot.

I knew we'd been traveling at least a month by that point. I had begun counting each time the sun set to gauge how many days we'd been going for. It amounted to forty-seven days at the least. It was obvious we'd reached the Grand Plateau because of the low cacophony of voices and animals that moved about.

It was impossible for me to see outside with the exception of slits in the cloth cover as the wagon rolled. There were mostly the foreigners, but I did see several people from where I came from.

The wagon came to a halt after some time rolling through the city. Several of the caravan escorts shouted orders to the slaves and cracked their whips at those who disobeyed. A few moments later, the back of the wagon opened up. Two men climbed in and grabbed all the smaller valuables, tossing them to other men just outside.

Once the wagon was cleared, they hoisted me and the chair I was strapped in off the wagon. It lurched as the cumulative weight was finally lifted from the wheels. As the sunlight hit my eyes, I forced them close as the exposure was too much. I was picked up again and brought into some stone building that smelled of sand. It was an understatement to say everything smelled the same, but the only unique smells were the slop they fed me on the journey here.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings. I had been brought to some small chamber with holes inset to the stone on the floor near the center of the chamber. The men set my chair in the holes which clicked in place. For the last leg of the trip, my water had been rationed to the point that I become somewhat delirious.

Thus, I wasn't sure if the person who entered the room was really there. At first it looked like a woman, but as the person drew closer, I realized it was Karnied's translator.

"You look thirsty," he smirked.

Had I not been so out of it, I might've retorted, but he knew my position.

"I don't want any water from the likes of you," I snapped back weakly.

"Certainly, it seems that way. You have quite a resilience to you. Unfortunately, it is a quality Sir Karnied dislikes in his subjects," he moved behind me and started messing around with something metal.

I didn't notice the table nor what was on it until the translator started messing around with it.

"I do not believe I ever introduced myself personally," he spoke while moving metal pieces around.

He returned with a small hammer, tapping it on his offhand.

"I am Larashuul, translator to General Karnied, and his personal torturer," his sadistic smile held true as he took the hammer and smashed it over my right hand.