Allow me to take you back to a world that no longer exists. A world that had such cruel segregation that children of unwanted traits were treated no better than abused animals, doomed to only know the dark existence of slavery. Slave shops loomed on every corner, selling the innocent for work, sex, fighting rings, or anything their master wished them to be. In this realm, those born with light eyes were considered people, but those unlucky enough to be born with brown eyes were treated worse than dogs.
The story I am about to tell, brings us back to a boy better known as Sahmi. We find him locked in a dirty cage at the far reaches of a slave shop. The boy had recently been sold from an abusive owner, who bought a new slave to take his place. Sahmi's pale and scarred skin reflected the type of life he had lived. On him was nothing but a pair of dirty shorts three sizes too big, only held on by a slim strip of cowhide tied through the belt loops. The boy's hands were cuffed behind his back as he lay helplessly on one side, eyes closed. Little did he know, this day would change the rest of his life.
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Ramone, a tall man in his early twenties entered the shop, pursing his lips some. He'd wanted to come here for quite some time, but never had the opportunity until this moment. Slowly he glanced through the cages examining each slave for what it was worth. Many were beaten, for these were second-hand slaves, and the life seemed drained out of them. A few mumbled to themselves and others sat looking dully ahead. None of which held his interest.
Nearing the end of the shop, Ramone's hopes began to sink. He rested his eyes on a younger slave who was laying down, eyes shut. Was he dead? Ramone hoped not. He tapped lightly on the cage to see if the slave would respond.
At the sound of tapping, the slave opened his eyes and glared up at Ramone. He bared his teeth in a grimace, keeping his brown eyes locked on the shopper. He was clearly more full of life than the others, and the price tag next to his cage proved to be so.
At that moment, a large greasy man stepped out from the back and hobbled his way over to the two. "Is there anything I can do for ya sir?"
Ramone took a slight step back in disgust of the newcomer. "How is this one?" He motioned to the slave. "If I can, I'd like to purchase him." Ramone was in no mood to have his time wasted and this slave interested him highly.
The man distastefully scratched his rear while answering, "Well then lad, if yer thinkin' 'bout gettin' this one you might want to sleep on it. He's a troublemaker, that one. However, if yer lookin' for a cook he is quite experienced for the job. Although... as an indoor pet, yer gonna want to keep 'im busy, anything to keep his energy low."
Ramone eyed the slave again in curiosity.
"You can take 'im home today if you want, for fifteen marks that is." The man gave a chuckle, obviously doubting Ramone could afford it.
Ramone kept his gaze on the slave, nodding slightly. "Troublemaker, eh?" Letting out a dry laugh, he waved his hand and dismissed the comment. "I'd like to purchase him right now. Let's say I give you sixteen silver marks, a tip as thanks for your wonderful services." There was a hint of sarcasm, but Ramone doubted the shopkeeper picked up on it.
Kneeling down, Ramone addressed the slave. "Do you have a name?" He couldn't help but notice the scars on the boy and winced at how he'd gotten them.
When the slave was silent, the shopkeeper answered for him. "Nah, he wasn't dropped off with any name. You'll 'ave to name 'im yourself. Just hand over the marks and I'll get you the key to 'is cage. I'll also throw in a free beater if you feel the need to punish the lad." The shopkeeper was more than willing to throw in an assortment of free things at the generosity of the man's offer. That extra silver mark alone would cover half the rent.
The slave, now in the process of being bought, looked more intently at Ramone. What kind of master would this man turn out to be? Would he be like the last one? He was a great deal younger. If Sahmi were to guess, only a handful of years older than himself.
"No name?" Ramone was almost surprised. Surely everyone deserved a name. He stood back up, pulling out his purse and began to count the silver. "No beater will be needed, I assure you." Ramone smiled kindly, dropping the 16 marks into the man's sweaty hands.
Turning back to the cage, Ramone frowned at the boy. "We need to find you a suitable name," he stated to the slave. "But first, I guess I should introduce myself." He smiled, brushing his blond bangs back some. "I'm Ramone. How about we get you to speak first, eh? What do you like to do?"
The shopkeeper's fist closed greedily around the coins and he pocketed them quickly. "Good luck getting' 'im to talk lad. He hasn't said a word since he got 'ere two months ago. I couldn't even get a word outta 'im with a good beatin'. Stubborn for no bloody reason I tell you." Fiddling with a handful of keys, the man decided on one and pressed it into the lock.
"He hasn't talked at all?" Ramone could feel doubts creep into his thoughts, but brushed them aside. This boy interested him greatly and Ramone knew that regret would come later if he missed this opportunity. And besides, he could always bring the slave back if it was of no interest to him.
Ramone sighed, hoping to make the boy talk sooner or later. Even just a head nod or shake would do. Anything that would allow the slave to communicate with him.
The shopkeeper nodded his head, "A'righty then. He's all yers." Turning the lock, the shopkeeper opened the front of the cage and grabbed the slave's arm, pulling him out roughly causing the boy to stumble. The slave wasn't about to resist, after all the cage was too small to stretch out fully, but standing up so quickly sent a rush to his head.
The shopkeeper handed Ramone a small device. "This is how you track 'im down if he tries to escape. He's wearin' a bracelet that won't come off, no matter how much he tries to take it off, so ye shouldn't 'ave no doubts about losin' 'im." Hunching over to meet the slave eye to eye, the greasy man continued, "This hur is your new master. Obey everything he says or he 'as the right to tear you to shreds." He laughed in the boy's face, an uneven assortment of stained teeth assaulting the air. The shopkeeper nodded goodbye then headed back to his office, chuckling to himself and happily tapping the coins in his pocket.
Ramone was relieved when some of the smell left with the old man. He eyed the slave carefully, wanting to catch the boy if he lost his balance. He knew the cage was small; and the boy probably hadn't had a lot of time to stretch out until now. "This will probably be a huge blur to you, and I understand." He offered a small smile to the boy, "But try to cooperate as best as possible for now, alright?"
Would the boy even respond? He hoped to rid this habit of silence within the next few days, even if it did mean resorting to beating. Though the thought pained him and he attempted to push it aside. "Let us head back to the estate," Ramone added, turning towards the door.
The slave watched Ramone but did not immediately follow. It was as if he was contemplating his odds. With slow steps he began to follow Ramone, but at the distance of about five feet. Walking next-to someone would signify an equal. The slave continued not to speak, sworn to his desolate silence. His head remained bowed, eying the floor that his bare feet walked upon.
When no response came, Ramone felt defeated. He'd hoped; and the gods had let him down. He came to a sudden halt, turned around, and in a swift movement, lifted the slave's chin with one hand.
Studying the boy's face, he frowned. "Will you not speak?" Ramone didn't want to get angry, but knew his temper would flare soon.
The slave narrowed his eyes. His voice cracked after being silent for so long. "I only speak when I find the need. Not when some master tells me to."