Its been four days since Alexander and his mother - Victoria, arrived Amon. They were able to get a room at an affordable tavern in town - three floors high. The nomads had given them a good portion of oz coin. Though the room was a sight for sore eyes, old and dusty, with tiny holes taking half the board ceiling, the timber flooring crackled with every step. Yet it was large enough to accommodate two beds and a large bath tub.
The past three nights were a nightmare for Alexander, rats squeaking and scrambling about, probably being chased. The only night they were quiet was when an owl perched by the window between the beds, staring with its large eyes - making loud hoots. Every attempt Alexander made to chase it proved futile, besides, Victoria was always fast asleep failing to realize the happenings, so he let it be, at least the rats were calm.
Victoria and Alexander wondered into the South terrain of Amon in search of the marketplace as described by the inn keeper, they were fed up with his half cooked porridge. They were able to locate it after a while but got lost on their way back, by the time they found their route it was evening already.
The inn keeper had warned them of bandits always making home at the bridge once it was getting dark - he made it clear that Amon wasn't what it use to be, even the guards were not trust worthy. They began hurrying back to town, which had guards patrolling it, but their worse fears had already come to pass.
Two strange figures were seated by the humpback stone bridge, having a shallow pass running underneath it, the bridge was a link between the town and its South Outskirts. Before they could think of changing directions, two men pounced on them - one grabbing hold of Victoria from behind, causing the basket she held to drop, while the other held Alexander's arms tightly.
"Mother!" Alexander screamed, struggling to release himself.
"Let go off me." Victoria struggled.
"Don't worry," the man grinned, placing a knife on her throat, forcing her and Alexander to relax. "We just want the stuff."
"Take it." Victoria spoke fearlessly.
"Not until the master says he's done."
Victoria tried struggling but the man pressed the knife against her neck, placing a slight cut.
"Careful now princess." He warned.
"Mother" Alexander called, glowering at the bald - big eyed man.
"Don't worry Alex, I'll be fine."
"They are clean." The man holding Alexander yelled towards the humpback stone bridge.
Alexander's gaze met with the seated men, one who looked to be a town guard, judging by the brown padded armor he wore. But something about him seemed off - he was young, even Alexander pinpointed that. Perhaps a little too young to be a guard, and he stood taller than everyone else.
"Just let us be." Victoria said under her breath, narrowing her eyes to Alexander.
One look at his mother, Alexander saw the grave expression hovering on her face, he knew that meant danger, he tried shaking himself free but the man holding him had a firm grip. Watching the guard stand before his mother - looking down on her, his heart raced heavily - almost thudding out from his chest, the thought of losing his mother plagued his thought, why is father far away, he thought.
"For your child's sake I'll leave the foodstuff." The guard spoke with a surprising profound tone.
He bent down before Victoria, observing the fringe of her black cote garment, he steeples his hand through it - he took a glimpse at her then back at the garment. Wrapping his hands round her ankles he began touching every inch of her legs, as though checking for something, going up further underneath her garment.
"Let her go." Alexander snapped, clinching his fists - his eyes fuming with rage, he couldn't bear watching his mother being molested.
"Stay down boy." The man holding him advised.
"I'm fine Alex." she assured with a feint smile.
Alexander didn't bother about the smile, knowing all too well it was a cover up for pain and secrets.
The guard continued with his hands now on her knees, his ear resting on her garment he continued up her thighs, then stops on hearing a slight jingle.
He then yanked something out, causing Victoria to flinch. He straightened up holding a small pouch, the oz coin given to her by the nomads.
Feeling a bit free, Alexander jacked an arm from the man holding him then throw his elbow at his crotches with all his might. The man dropped to his knees immediately, groaning and holding his crotches with his head bowed.
Alexander had always taught highly of himself, making him bold and impatient. He got the wrong ideal that the basic defense taught him by his father was enough to fend off real enemies like he did his peers back at Vinum.
Alexander charged the guard, his hopes high on hitting his groin. Just when he thought he had the guard, he heard his mother's voice screaming out his name. Before he knew it, he was spinning in the air, the guard's fist connected with his belly knocking the wind out of him.
He found himself falling to the ground, breathless and in agony - his vision blurry.
Just when he thought it was over, there came a kick to his belly - landing him brutally on the ground, unconscious.
"Alex!" Victoria cried.
"Heroes don't last boy." The guard adviced, "let her go." he commanded, walking away.
The man released Victoria, then hurried behind the guard, as did the other man, leaping - holding unto his groin.
Victoria hurried to Alexander's side, taking him in her arms, tears streaming down her eyes while massaging his chest.
∆∆∆
At the middle of the south terrain of Amon stood the only farmland, in the mist of it was a compound, the Lankins Compound. In it were three buildings, a one floor house made of solid timber at the end of the compound, having white walls and brown tile roofing - a silo standing beside it and a long Stable by the left region of the compound, a well plough land occupied the remaining space.
It was the fourth day since the arrival of Derek and other captives, they were all gathered in front of the white house, lightened up by flame lamps. Dressed in old white long-sleeve shirt tucked in light brown breeches. Derek was the only one in front, his cheek and eyes were swollen to an extent were he could be hardly recognized.
The first two days were an establishment of order, Lankins had them plough the courtyard then at night he gave them a fore taste of what will before defaulters, he called it "taming the dog". Derek had tried fighting back by the second night but got put in his place by a guard.
On the third day they were well treated by Lankins' personal maids and served roasted chicken stew and cake with wine, different from the crap sausage soup and porridge they've been eating.
Lankins stepped out of the white house twirling his whip with a blissful smile, forcing the captives to lower their heads - except for Derek, he kept glaring at Lankins, plotting countless ways to deal with him. The guards were not close by, he could take the whip and lash him till he bleeds then flee. Yet again, were would he go, he has no clue on how to get back home, if there was still a home.
"Hope you all enjoyed your meals yesterday? That's the last descent meal you'll be having in a while." He leered. "Beginning from tomorrow the true work starts, boys you tend the farm and stable, girls you keep the vineyard, my maids will show you how."
Derek knew it was going to be a long boring speech, he threw his gaze from Lankins, up at the flicking stars, wishing for a saviour to rescue him from the rusty days ahead.
∆∆∆
Victoria had Alexander cuddled in her arms, walking along the silent streets of Amon. Despite Amon being a small town, the houses ranged from two floors, all having their foundations and first floor made of sturdy stone and the remaining floors framed with timber. The buildings were closely built making the cobbled streets narrow and the alleyways half the narrow street. However, the main street was broad, accommodating market stalls on each side which were not open for it was late, the stalls stretched a good distance from the humpback stone bridge to the town square - even beyond to the harbour.
The galloping of horses resounded into the night - suddenly, three riders came from behind, stopping beside her.
"You there," one of them called out.
Victoria stopped, refusing to turn around, a bounty may have gone round by now, there was every possibility of recognizing her as Thomas' wife.
"Speak woman, the Chancellor calls to you," another yelled.
Victoria finally summed up the courage then turned around, her face brightened up on seeing the riders.
"Victoria?" the rider at the front called out with surprise.
He was a chubby bald man, having a serious look on his square shaped face covered in well trimmed dark beards.
"Aaron?" She spoke lightly, her eyes almost tearing up.
"You will address...."
"Oh shut it Paul." Aaron cuts in before the short black-haired guard with scanty side beards completed his statement.
"My apologies Sir" he bows slightly.
Aaron dismounts then approached Victoria. "What happened?" He takes Alexander off her hands, he was fast asleep.
"That's a story I'll like to discuss in private." Victoria requested.
"Let's get going then." Aaron hands Alexander over to Paul.
"I'll have to get my stuff."
"Forget it for now, you look like you've gone through shit, rest at my place for the while."
"Thank you so much Aaron."
"The least I can do for my friend's wife." He taps his horse gently, "come on."
Aaron saddles his horse as did Victoria behind him.
"I'm happy to see you again Victoria."
"Likewise Aaron." She gave a feint smile.
Aaron snapped the reigns, imploring his horse into a trot ahead, while Paul and the other guards followed behind.