Hutch regretted much about that day, and many of those that followed, in his memory, but at the time, his hands were tied. Regardless of how he felt on the matter, slavery was still a legal system on much of that world, and Cheph was the prime port for that trade in the east.
What had brought those men and their wagons to Blue Rock though, was a mystery. Blue Rock took no part in that trade, and it was too far removed from the main road that led from The Ship Port to Hanishak, the first town across the border in Can'marou.
Hutch did as he was told and kept his eyes on his feet. He didn't dare to look at the faces of those in chains, because he knew, he was in no position to free them. He still had a bounty on his head, and any action he took, could have landed him in chains and in the back of a wagons as well, bound for far worse things if he was recognized.
When they reached the town square, much to Hutch's dismay, no one else appeared bothered by the cages of slaves just outside their village, or by the slavers wandering in their midst, the largest of whom was man of great stature and impressive build. He riveled that of Ghan'dono, matching him in height, if not edging him out by mere millimeters, but he was at least a decade younger and lacked any ounce of visible fat. No one stood close to him. No one walked in his path, and no one dared to step in his way. He moved with a purpose, he was boisterous, charismatic, and friendly in a strangely deceptive way. His grin stretched the width of his face, as he flirted with the women, who swooned at his passing, despite him lacking a conventionally attractive appearance.
He had the bronzed skin of a man well-lived beneath the relentless sun, his complexion having no pattern from what could be seen of his face and arms. He was wearing a long vest with riding tails, that stopped just below his knees, like a sleeveless duster, made of light-tanned leather, but was covered in numerous brownish stains. His ivory-colored tunic had been left open, revealing the hair on his chest, and his black linen pants, hung loose about his legs, moving as he walked, near silent in the grass sandals on his massive feet. His hair was a wild untamed mane of black, grizzled with stripes of browns, and greys, and a scar stretched horizontally, across his face, marring both his cheeks, and dissecting the narrow bridge of his downward tilting nose. His ego could be felt, alongside his presence. He was loud, even without saying a word. His glare, through eyes of black and burning orange, was ferocious, and across his back, he wore a claymore, the sheathe attached to his shoulder armor by buckles and chains.
Hutch felt every hair on his body standing on end as he tied Spikey to the post, next to the spot where they were going to be selling their wares, and he could feel the man zeroing in on him, growing closer with every passing second.
"So, the rumors are true," the loud, giant of a man spoke with his distinctive raspy voice through a wicked grin. "There really is a tiny man wandering around with a horned eranth. Just like the ones from Qur'loam," he lowered his voice as he stopped but a few feet away.
Hutch tried to swallow back the instinctual fear that had risen within him. He didn't need to know who this man was to feel his unpredictable nature; he could sense it in his behavior. But he had no other choice but to stand his ground. There was nowhere he could run that wouldn't leave Ghan'dono at this man's mercy, and after everything Kahlala had sacrificed to stay with him, he couldn't have her lose her father because of him, as well.
"He is from Qur'loam," Hutch confirmed, in as pleasant a tone as he could. For he knew there was no lie he could tell to keep such an enemy at bay. "You know your eranth well, sir."
"Did you steal him?"
"In a way," Hutch admitted, as he set his hand to Spikey's muzzle attempting to keep him calm. "He was to be returned when I was finished with him, and that has yet to be the case. And I'm so fond of him now, I doubt I will ever be through with him."
The man let out a faint, slow, chuckle, and pulled a wade of paper from the pocket of his jacket.
"You're funny, kid. Now, why don't you do us both a favor and lower that hood of yours. I want to have a real good look at the young man who just put a smile on my face," the man remarked as he smoothed the paper down against his chest.
Reaching up, Hutch pulled back his hood, and turned to look at the man, as he held up the paper next to his head.
"Huh. To think, I didn't expect you to be so easy to find, given these accusations." He snickered, as if somehow finding him so quickly had spoiled his fun, while lowering the bounty poster. "This must be a new record. I've only been in the area for three days. Came into town because of the impending storm. But look at my good fortune. Folanola must truly love me, or she really hates you, my young friend. And before you get any ideas, old man," he remarked, turning his eyes to Ghan'dono, who had taken one of the larger bones out of the box in the back of the wagon, "I'm not here for the bounty. That bastard Salvador and his fucked up little country can keep their filthy coins. I may be an outlaw, but I still have my pride. They couldn't pay any one of us to do them a favor, like capturing one of their own and sending them back."
"Then what do you want, if not the bounty?" Hutch asked, opening his cloak to reveal he had only a small knife at his waist, still sheathed, before leaving his hands held out where the man could see them.
"Well now, I'm glad you asked. The names Ensaso Sar'Basirak, and Cheph is my kingdom, making you…" he paused and looked at the name on the bounty poster, groaning as he stuffed it back in his pocket, "a wanted man in Qur'loam," he continued, "my guest. So, you and I are going to take a walk out of town, because I think we have a few very important things, we need to discuss."
Hutch knew the position he was in, and it wasn't good. He had no weapon worth more than scrap against Ensaso's giant claymore, and no way to escape. All he could do was play along, and hope to give Ghan'dono enough time to get away.
"Very well," Hutch replied, dawning his most charming smile, "which way would you like to go?"
Ensaso shifted up beside him, and wrapped his enormous, muscular arm over his shoulder. "I'm thinking that way," he remarked, pointing down the road that went south out of town, away from the slavers who were parked to the east.
Looking down the road, Hutch could see a thinner man, in a blue cloak with long silver hair, and white skin, standing a fair distance away, waiting next to a pair of diazhuam, staring back at them.
"And don't worry old man, I'll return him in one piece. It's only if he lies to me, that you might want to be concerned. Let's go." Ensaso wasn't fooling around as he squeezed against Hutch's shoulders.
"Easy," he remarked, attempting to shake Ensaso lose, "I'm fragile. Besides, I have no reason to run, or lie, if what you said is true. As you've seen, I'm as much an enemy of Qur'loam, as Qur'loam is to you."
"Is that so?" he responded, dropping his hand from his shoulder, as they continued their way out of town. "We shall see."
The man with silver hair, bowed his head at their passing, and turned the diazhuam in their direction, so he and they remained always facing Ensaso, falling in behind at a safe distance as they walked.
Just past the last house on the road, some logs and planks had been turned into a makeshift table and benches, beneath the overhanging branches of a pleasant shade tree.
"Take a seat," Ensaso ordered Hutch, pointing to a very specific spot on one of the benches, of which there were four surrounding the table.
As wary as he was over Ensaso, Hutch opted not to fuss, and sat where he was told, his back to the town, which was unfortunate, since he could no longer keep an eye on Ghan'dono to know if he was packing up to leave town, or being forced to stay, nor could see what the white-haired man was doing. Although he had enough awareness about him to know that he was still, keeping his distance.
"Your name, what is it?"
Hutch found the question odd, given that his name was on the poster, but still thought it wisest not to lie. If he was going to make it out of this in one piece, honesty, he felt, was indeed the best policy.
"Jules Hutchinson, but I'm called Hutch by everyone I know."
Ensaso hummed. "Explains why this crap makes no sense. Your name's gibberish," he muttered, balling up the poster and throwing it over his head towards the other man. "Take care of that for me."
The man gave no reply, and Hutch had to stop himself from looking back at him to see what he was doing.
"That's Val'Bragah. Pay him no mind. Instead, I want you to tell me, how you, got here."
"We walked. Over the mountains," Hutch replied, finding the nature of this question rather odd as well, since there were a limited number of ways to reach Cheph from Qur'loam, and by sea was not one of them.
Ensaso gave Hutch a tooth filled grin. "Fair enough. You answered my question, I'll give you that. But since that is the obvious part, how about you try again. This time, be a bit more specific, since I'm not a very patient man, and I'm not fond of stupid games."