Book 2 Season's Change Spring's Revenge

Part 7 Dark Heart*

A/N

The following part contains graphic and mature content. It is recommended for mature audiences ONLY.

This chapter may contain triggers. If you are triggered by sexual assault/rape please do not read this chapter. Just skip over it.

Please read with care. Seek Help if you need it.

Sexual assault is a crime. This chapter, and anything I have ever written or will ever write, is NOT intended to make light of that.

Shelly Keller

He looked around the camp and took a mental note of several things that would need to be adjusted before they headed out on their journey. Some of the things he saw were good, some were not. He tried to hide his disappointment and keep it from his scowling face but immediately decided that it was a complete and total waste of his precious time. He had a caravan to prepare for a very long road. His disappointment needed to be known. Everything had to be done properly. They absolutely could not afford any delays.

He scowled as he inspected the load. The wagon had been loaded horribly. It was off balance and weighted down so much that the wheels on one side were sinking into the soft ground. He called out to one of the men working on loading one of the wagons after he inspected the load, "What in the fuck is this dung?" He gestured calmly to the wagon. His movements did not match his tone. They were smooth and graceful while his voice was full of anger and spite.

"The cargo, Si-," the much smaller man had started to reply meekly before Thalion cut him off.

"I know it is the fucking cargo you dungass." His ire became apparent in his stance and mannerisms as he continued to berate the crewman for his inability to properly load a wagon. "Have you never loaded a wagon a'fore a day in your worthless life?" He didn't wait for the answer as he loomed over the much smaller man. "Unload it!" He waved his hand in the direction of the poorly loaded wagon and the man instinctively flinched. Inwardly, Thalion laughed, 'Good-good. Already.' He almost smiled at the man's reaction. It was precisely as it should have been. The men should fear him. "Get Barnabus, Garnabus, Barnabi, whatever the fuck 'is name is over here to help you." He pointed at the things he was talking about without offering an explanation as to what was wrong with them. "You're about as smart as a yak's arse and more than half as dumb." He stomped away growling to himself and went to inspect the remainder of the load. He turned back gracefully to find Darnabi --or whatever his name was-- directing the stupid one as the wagon was unloaded once again. He called out, "Dunagus, make sure the cages all lock good and tight; can't have them getting away in the middle of the night, especially the females and the children, they always fetch a good coin at the market." He smiled a rather devious grin for a split second as he thought about the females. "There be a long road ahead of us. I don't want to be missing anything I would have here an' I don't want having to stop and fix things that don't need be breaking." His barrel chest heaved, and his pale face turned red as his light blue eyes bore holes in the ignorant men around him. "Get this dung heap reloaded properly. We leave at sunrise on the morrow." He growled, surveyed the caravan once more then nodded to Donocain, his second in command. Donocain would see to it that the caravan was ready, or he would not ever be found.

Thalion was a large brute of a man. He was at least a head taller than any man he had ever met and thrice as wide. His thick arms swung his heavy ax or sword with smooth grace and ease. He was well-muscled and very strong. His dirty yellow hair was much longer and shaggier than he cared for from the winters stay over in the city, and his beard too long and thick on his face for spring travel. It served him well in the winter months and kept his face and head warm. But as the seasons shifted and spring's warmth returned to the land, he did not need the extra insulation from the cold. He would go and have those things taken care of and bathe before he departed for the trade route and resumed his livelihood along it. He was big and brutish, born of the land, tough and strong but he had his vanity and his pride. Unlike others of his ilk, he kept himself clean, understanding without knowing why doing so was necessary for long life. It was the only honest civility in him.

They were preparing for the journey to the south to pick up the first set of his goods. He would then go to the western coastal city of Dunfast to pick up more goods and restock before heading north through the pass. Winter had left the southern lands and would soon depart the North leaving the pass once again open for trade. He needed to make some coin and to do what he needed to sell his wares.

He made his living on the road from the east to the west then north and back to the east once the run was done. He had a very short window to make the run in. The North was a brutal land when Winter claimed it. He did not want to find himself and his crew trapped there trying to survive the brutal cold of the heartless Winter of the North. There was only one pass through those mountains. It would become impassable after the first heavy snowfall the North received and he intended to be on the southern side of that pass when it did. That meant they needed to set out and that they could not afford delays for shoddy work, especially the loading of the wagons. He had learned the hard way when he was young that an unbalanced load made the wagon harder for the ox to pull and put more pressure on one side or the other causing more wear on the wheels and axel on that side. He could not afford to carry many axles with him, they are heavy and greatly increased the load plus they take up space. Space that food and water stores could go in. He could not get as much cargo loaded if he was carrying too many supplies. He needed as much space for his cargo as he could afford.

He smiled as he thought of what he would be hauling. It always made him smile. He enjoyed the life he had chosen, even if sometimes he had to deal with idiots. It was worth it to him to get to do what he loved for a living. Perhaps there would be one or two females he'd take to trade that were already prepared for their live as a slave. Those women were easily tradable and sold for top coin, but more importantly, they served him well during the trip. They were compliant and usually well trained or just smart, he could never decide, but they always complied with his demands and therefore they survived. Often, he would only have to chain them rather than cage them. They served a great purpose and served him perfectly. They could make a long road away from home much easier to bear. They set the example for the other females and taught them how and what needed to be done to please their masters.

Sometimes he'd end up with fresh cargo, taken from he didn't care where, and it would take a lot of 'work' to get them ready for trade. Typically, he would choose the strongest female of the lot. The one that would be the hardest to train and he'd train her in the ways of pleasing a man until she became the compliant slave that everyone desired. A few days without water or food usually did the trick, but sometimes he would have to break her first. He had come to consider himself an expert at it. It was the most satisfying part of the whole deal.

He took great pride in his ability to take almost any female and teach her how to be a good slave for her master. He delivered only the best, well-trained slaves to the North.

As he trained and broke them he was always careful to not leave any lasting marks on the female's body, especially on the face. They were always homely when he got them but never scarred when he presented them at the market. Breaking them and training them had to be done or the female would not fetch a fair price. Some would never break, they fought him from the beginning to the end, begging him 'no' and scratching and biting at his skin as he tried to teach them what they were to do to please their masters. Those he would never be able to trade, and they took up space in his inventory. So, he didn't waste his time with them. After a few weeks, they were pulled from their cages and left behind at night as the caravan moved on. No one wanted a spirited slave. By the time they reached their destination, the females were all compliant and would make great slaves. He always sold every body he ever took to market from the women to the children. Quality was his reputation and he would always fetch a fair price for his wares because of it.

Along the way, the caravan would stop several times in different cities for food and more civilized entertainment. He would take his leave of the men and find pleasure and beer in one tavern or another, but he always returned and inspected his caravan with the same tenacity and demanding expectations of his crew. He knew the guards he posted would rotate out and seek their pleasures in the cities because they were not permitted to assist him in the breaking of the slaves. That was his job and his alone. If one of the guards so much as looked sidewise at a female in the caravan, Thalion would gut them and leave them as carrion on the side of the road. Training the female slaves was a source of great pride and satisfaction for him. He enjoyed having the power to take a female and break her, making the female compliant and the perfect slave to any man. He would not allow anyone to ever help him in any way. By the time he was done with one, they all would do anything to make their masters happy. Anything