- 3 -
"Ow our ya fellin?"
I opened my eyes and looked around, there was an old man looking down at me. Or at least I thought he was old. It took me a moment to gather my wits and figure out where I was, and what had happened. I was laying on something hard, but it wasn't cold, there was a roof above my head, and as it came into focus I could see it was made from wood.
I reached up my arm slowly and touched the back of my head as it started to come back to me. That asshole major had sold me into slavery!
"Who are you?" I asked slowly, as I felt the back of my head. It was sore, and I could feel some dry blood matting the short hair of my crew cut. At least I don't think my skull had been cracked.
"I arm the slav chief," he said. His accent was pretty strong, but it only took me a moment to make it out.
I swore, "That bastard really did make me a slave then?" I groaned and then gasped as I got hit in the stomach.
"Hat be nao way to be tolkin abaout the chaosen own," he said and shook his fist at me.
I glared at him, but I remembered that I was flat on my back, still a bit dizzy, and I had no idea where the hell I was.
"Where am I?" I asked instead.
"The slav haouse," he said. "Naoh hat ya be awake, ya can gat to waork."
He moved away from me then, and I sat up slowly. There was light streaming in through the open shutters of the windows, which had no glass in them. The room was about twenty feet wide and maybe sixty long, not unlike a barracks, with wooden bunk beds to either side of the central aisle. There was even a bed above me, the beds all being wood, with a couple of what looked like old wool blankets on each of them. I was naked, the only thing they'd left me were my dog tags. Everything else was gone.
I looked up the slave chief as I gathered my wits, I was still dizzy and now that I had sat up, I was thirsty and hungry as hell.
"Where are my clothes?" I asked slowly, "And where can I get some water, and some food?"
"Her our ya claothes," he said and tossed me a fairly skimpy loincloth that was nothing more than a leather cord with two pieces of leather hanging down from it. I sighed and shook my head.
"Wator be aout hat doer," he said and pointed to the front door, which was right next to my bunk. "Faeod be for hose hat waerk, ya must waerk to be fad."
I got to my feet slowly, and picking up my 'clothing' I put it on and tied it over my right hip.
'Whack!'
I gasped in pain as I got hit across the back with a stick of some sort.
"Get maovin, ya laze! Ah nao gaot ta day tao waaste oan ya!"
I stumbled over to the door and opening it, I saw an old style water pump. Grabbing the handle I started to pump it and stuck my head under the stream of water that came out and started to drink.
Apparently the slave chief didn't like that, cause he whipped me three more times while I drank my fill, but my body needed water so badly that the blows barely registered until I stopped and stood up.
"Sorry," I mumbled and then immediately felt like an ass. Why the hell was I apologizing to this sadist?
"Git!" He said and pointed, and drove me on with a very liberal use of his stick. I got a good look at him now as I started to regain my wits and he drove me on. He was definitely an old man, and his left arm was missing below the elbow. His hair was gray and fairly long, pulled back with a leather headband, and he wore the homespun pants that the others wore, along with a very well decorated leather vest that hung open. He wore sandals on his feet and the crop he was hitting me with was a wooden stick wrapped tightly with a thin strip of leather. He was thinner than me and a lot shorter, only coming up to my chin.
He whacked me across the chin for looking at him, so I just turned and went in the direction he was driving me.
It took us about twenty minutes to walk to where we were going, and by then my feet were in agony. I was used to wearing shoes, not walking barefoot, and the ground was not soft, with rocks and pebbles along it.
When we got to a field on the edge of the settlement, I was given a bag and sent out into a field; to pick cotton of all things.
The old man didn't stay there; he left as soon as I got out into the field. Looking around I saw there were a dozen others like myself, doing the same job. There was one young man on horseback with a club hanging from the saddle at one end of the field, watching us work.
I was having a hard time of it, between my feet, the lack of food, and being rather dizzy. I noticed that the young man watching us didn't say anything if you got a drink of water when you went to dump your bag in the big basket they had there before you started on the next row, and while several times he yelled at the others to work harder, he didn't give me any grief, unlike the old man.
By the time I got back to the barracks that night, I had a nice sunburn, all over my body, but at least I was fed. They gave us a large bowl full of beans and rice mixed together, with some spices in it. It actually tasted rather good, and when one of the other slaves tried to horn in on my food I punched him hard enough to send him sprawling, while the guards pointed and laughed.
There were three guards for the entire group, and it appeared that there were about forty of us in the barracks. The other slaves were a varied lot. Some were white men, some were obviously Indians, though their features made me suspect that they were from a different tribe. There were some who were definitely Mexican, and then a few who I really couldn't determine. I was the tallest of all of them, but I was definitely not the strongest. At least not yet I wasn't. Maybe once I'd gotten a few more meals under my belt and wasn't in so much pain from my bleeding feet, sunburn, and the spot on the back of my head where I'd been clubbed.
Once everyone had been fed dinner, we got the chance to use the latrine, get a drink of water, and then we were locked into the slave house as the door and all the windows were closed and I guess barred on the outside.
There wasn't much light inside, but at least the window shutters had slots cut in them to allow for some air and light to pass through.
I looked around at the others as my eyes adjusted. I was sure that I was about to be exposed to the worse trope of every prison movie ever made, these folks were sure primitive enough for it. I know that I looked the youngest here, but I had no idea if I really was. With the life these people had been living, I'm sure they all aged a lot faster than I had.
It didn't take long, one of the heavier ones came over to me as I stood there, and started in on me, in the same heavily accented English that the slave master had used this morning.
"Aokay, his is the rooles," he started.
"Are these their rules," I said and motioned outside, "or your rules?"
"Aoh! Laooks like weese gaot a praoblem here! Hey be miya rooles, an ...."
He stopped then as I punched him in the face, hard! Then kicked him in the balls and grabbing both of my hands together I slammed them down on the back of his head as he bent over, driving him to the floor.
I then kicked him in the side for good measure and putting a foot on his neck I shoved down hard, pushing his face into the hard floor, and then dropped to my knees, putting one on the back of his neck as I seized his left arm and bent it back in a submission hold.
"Okay, assholes," I growled looking around at all of them. "I'm the boss here now, understand? I came here with that 'chosen' one, and I can easily kill all of you, with my bare hands, if I need to.
"So, from this point forward, whatever you were giving to this guy?" I nodded at the guy on the floor beneath me, "You give it to me. And as for you," I thumped the guy under me on the back of the head with my hand. "You get this one warning, and this one warning only. Do as you're told, you get to live, mess with me at all, and I'll kill you."
"If you're so tuff, why are you here?" one of them asked, I think I had finally come to understand their accents.
"Because the chosen one is an asshole, that's why. He wasn't supposed to bring me here, and he had to save face for his mistake. So I'm just a bit angry right now, and as you all are the only ones I can get my hands on, you better not piss me off."
"Nice to see that the gods can get screwed too!" another one chuckled.
"I'm not a god, and neither is he. But we did see a goddess when she sent us here," I said getting up off of the guy I'd pinned to the floor.
"We heard he has all sorts of god given powers!" someone else said.
"Yeah," I grumbled, knowing that prick, he probably did, "but god given powers don't make you a god. Now, leave me alone, I'm tired."
I was surprised that no one tried anything again after that. I moved up into the top bunk to make it harder if anyone should try, plus I'd always been a light sleeper. But I still waited a good long while after they all had fallen asleep before I fell asleep myself.
I reviewed my problems as I laid there: I had nothing, I knew nothing, and I was a slave.
The biggest problem was a lack of knowledge, about this place, and these people. While I could understand and communicate with the other slaves and the slave master, I had no idea if the tribe members could understand me or not. I'd have to learn their language, which might not be that hard, considering I was here in the middle of them.
I also needed to learn more about the world I was now in, what there was, and where it was. I had no intentions of remaining a slave, and I had every intention of leaving. I supposed I could try to earn my freedom and change my status, but with Major Riggs here, I had no desire to live with someone who had betrayed both his uniform and me.
As for not having anything, well, I'd need better clothes, better footwear, and a knife at the very least. It would be great if I could recover my things, but I had so few I didn't really think it mattered all that much if I did or not.
#
Over the next week I learned that as always, rank has its privileges. As the head slave, I got more food than the others, because I got some of theirs. I also got a pair of sandals, as I had one of the other slaves to make me a set. They weren't the best, but they were good enough and my feet appreciated it.
I learned quickly that all of the slaves here had either been captured while committing a crime against the tribe, or bought from another tribe or town. Slavery was not common, which was why it was such a big thing when Major Riggs gave me to the chief as a gift. There were no woman slaves, any woman who came to the village as a slave was either married off or apprenticed to someone here in the tribe, until she had either married or earned a place. Mainly, being a slave was a punishment, like jail.
I learned that yes, the rest of the tribe spoke English; they just spoke their own language among themselves, and that Major Riggs was teaching the warriors of the tribe something, what I had no idea, but slaves pick up rumors, and as the slave 'boss' I got to hear them all.
"So, tell me about the world," I asked Ken as we picked apples from the trees in the orchard. He was one of the white slaves who supposedly was caught stealing in town. He claimed he was innocent, that he was just passing through, and considering my own plight, he may very well have been telling me the truth. Or maybe they just wanted the extra hands for the harvest season. Once all the crops had been brought in, he was supposed to get his things back, and be escorted out of town and let go.
"Well, to the west of us there's nothing but the Navajo, and the Washoe. Then there's the mountains. There's a bunch of small towns, mines, and just plain strange things up in the mountains. Past there and you have a big sea, and on the other side of that is some more land, then the ocean."
"A big sea?" I asked. "Not a gulf?"
"Nope, you can walk around it; it's fifty, sixty miles across and runs north for hundreds of miles they say."
"And the ocean is after that?"
"That's right."
"Ever seen it?"
Ken shook his head, "The coast is a dangerous place, all sorts of haunted places and monsters."
"Monsters?" I laughed, "Really?"
"That's what I've been told. Remains of the big smack."
I'd heard him say that before, the 'big smack', I didn't know what it meant, and right now I didn't want to ask about it.
"So what's east of here?" I said and picking up the now full basket of apples I followed him towards the cart where we would dump them out, before going back to fill them back up.
"Well, east and to the south a little is Havsue, that's a pretty strong place, they got the tech there and they got it pretty good. Course not as good as Paradise, they're almost straight to the north, on the edge of the Nev wastes."
"The Nev wastes?" I asked as we walked back to the next set of trees to pick. "What's in there?"
Ken shrugged, "No one knows. Humans don't go in there."
"You say that like there are things other than humans," I laughed again.
Ken stopped and looked at me, "You really are from the sky, aren't you?"
I nodded, I'd never bothered to try and describe where we'd really come from, I didn't see the point, and besides, if people thought I was something special, something magical, I hoped that they'd be a little less likely to harm me.
"Things are very different for me here," I said, "life was easier there, a lot easier."
"You seem to know how to fight pretty well for coming from there."
I shrugged, "I was a warrior of my people. Just like the 'chosen'" I said, but without any of the distaste I felt for Major Riggs. His status had grown greatly in the last week, and the last thing I wanted was to piss off the tribe.
"You don't seem as strong or tough as he is."
"I didn't get any gifts from the gods either," I told him. "But I could kick any of these people's asses in pretty short order."
"So why don't you?"
"Because, then what?" I told him. "I know nothing about this world. Right now I get fed and have a place to sleep." I shrugged, "I've only been here a week. So, what are you going to do when they release you?"
"I'm going to head south," Ken said.
"South? What's south?"
"My sister's husband has a cattle ranch to the south; I'll get a job working for them through the winter, until I've replaced what I've lost."
"What you've lost?"
"They won't be giving me my horse or saddle back when I leave," Ken said.
"Hey, at least you get to leave," I grumbled. "I don't think they're going to be letting me go."
"I'm surprised they put you in here with us, we're the criminals," Ken said.
"There are slaves here that aren't criminals?" I asked surprised.
Ken nodded, "Usually they keep them with the household that owns them. As I understand it, you only get sent here if you misbehave."
"Ah, that would explain it," I sighed.
"Oh? What did you do?" Ken asked laughing.
"When the guy I came with told me he had given me to the Chief, I tried to punch him in the face."
Ken laughed, and several others around us laughed as well. That was when I realized that more than just Ken had been paying attention to what I was saying.
"You tried to punch the chosen one?" said Sean, one of the Mexicans, who I gathered had tried to steal a shipment of blankets or something with several of the other men here. Apparently the tribe's blankets were worth a lot of money. "No wonder they threw you in with us!"
"Yeah, well, there's no love lost between me and the major," I shrugged.
"Major?"
"It's his title where we come from," I said.
"Less talk, more work!" The guard said and motioned to me.
"Yes, Gaagii," I said and decided to let any more questions wait until later. I knew from the last few days that the only time the guards cared if we talked, was if someone was approaching. The guards were actually fairly young men, not much more than boys really. I could probably over power him, if I wanted to, but even if I got away with it, without the rest of the tribe coming to his aid, I'm sure the group they sent out to catch me wouldn't take all that long to find me. I was also fairly sure that they would show me how displeased they were with having to re-capture me as well.
Sure enough, several men from the tribe walked up to Gaagii, and started to talk to him in their native language. I pretty much ignored them and continued my work until the men came over to where I was picking apples.
"So, you say you can beat us?" one of them said looking at me.
"At what?" I asked and continued picking apples and putting them in the basket. I kept an eye on him however, last thing I wanted was to get blindsided again.
"Stop doing that," he motioned to the basket I was filling.
"And have Ahiga, the slave master beat me for not working?" I shook my head, and one of the others laughed and said something in Navajo.
"Fine, you beat me, and I help you pick apples for the rest of the day," he said.
"What if you beat me?" I asked.
"If the prize is the same, win or lose, then you have no incentive to win," he pointed out.
I stopped and turned to face him, and bowed, "So did you come out here just to fight me?"
He laughed, "No, but Raven," he nodded towards Gaagii and I guessed that was what his name meant in Navajo, "said he heard you claim you could beat any of us. You came here with the Chosen, so I thought I would see if that was an idle boast."
I nodded and moved away from the basket, and the other workers, and got into a ready stance.
"Then let us begin, with your help, we may please Ahiga for once," I said and smiled.
The others hooted at that, and he pulled off his vest, exposing a well-muscled body, and handed it as well as the belt knife he wore, to one of the others.
He came at me then, bending his knees slightly as he did so, I was a little surprised; I thought he'd go for a grapple, but apparently the people here knew boxing.
I kept my hands low and just circled him as he came at me, I didn't want to let him get too close, but I wanted to see what kind of style he was using before I decided on what I was going to do.
He started off with a couple of left jabs, nothing that I couldn't move out of the way of easily enough. He telegraphed his strikes, and his speed was less than mine. Of course I hadn't gotten into pilot training by being slow, fast reflexes and good hand and eye coordination were required for that, especially if you were going to make it into the supersonic trainers.
He moved in quickly then and tried to land a flurry of rights and lefts, but I dodged them fairly easily. He tried a kick next, and instead of dodging it, I leg blocked, stepped in and striking at his upper arms with both of my hands, I opened his guard up and then pushed him on the shoulders with both hands, driving him off balance as he was only on one foot. He stumbled backwards, trying to regain his balance, and I dropped down and did a spinning leg sweep, hitting him in the ankle and sending his foot up in the air and him down on his butt. I didn't want to hurt him after all; I'd probably get a pretty good beating for that.
The others were pointing at him and laughing as I got to my feet, and he was glaring at me.
"Do you want to pick apples too?" I said to the ones who were laughing at him, and they all shut up rather suddenly.
"What, are you all afraid of him?" the one on the ground said to them.
"I will beat him!" One of them said, and taking off his vest and knife he stepped forward.
Ten minutes later all four of them were picking apples.
"I'm called, Atsida," the one I'd first fought said, "it means 'hammer', in your language. I work with my uncle who is the blacksmith for our tribe."
"I'm Paul," I told him; "it means 'humble.'"
"You made what you did to us look easy," Atsida said.
"I'm sure you make working with your uncle look easy too," I replied picking up my basket and carrying it to the cart. One thing for sure, there weren't any fat people around here, everyone did work.
Atsida laughed at that, as did his friends.
"How long did it take you to learn that?" He asked.
"I started almost ten years ago," I said and dumped the bucket out then headed for the next tree, "and I still have much to learn."
I sighed suddenly as I thought about that.
"Why so sad?"
"Because there will be no more lessons, I just remembered that I will never see my home, my own people, again."
They were silent for a while, but when we dumped our baskets again and moved to another tree Atsida spoke up again. "Could you teach us?"
"That would be up to Ahiga," I said. "I am rather fond of eating and would hate to have him stop feeding me because I did no work."
Atsida and his friends all laughed at that, as did Gaagii, or Raven. For guys who had just lost to a slave and now had to pick apples for the rest of the day, they were all in pretty good spirits and easy going. I actually kind of liked them, they had some depth to them, they really seemed like the kind of folks I could get along with.
The rest of the day went fairly well, Atsida and his three friends did not shirk on their end of the deal, and they helped us until Ahiga came to collect us. We'd actually finished picking the entire orchard by then, as none of the slaves were willing to slack off with the four Navajo working besides us.
"What are you four doing here?" Ahiga said when he arrived.
"We made a bet with Paul," Atsida said pointing at me, "and he won. So we honored our bargain."
I watched curious, to see what Ahiga would do. He dismissed the young men, in Navajo, and then made us tow the cart we'd put all the apples in to the barn where they were to be unloaded and stored. He talked to Gaagii, in Navajo while we moved the cart, but then left us while we unloaded it.
"So, am I in trouble?" I asked Gaagii as we followed his directions as to where to put the apples.
"The only question you should worry about, is just how much trouble you are in," Gaagii said with a laugh. "If you weren't in trouble, you wouldn't be here with the rest of them, would you?"
Two days later I was woken up an hour earlier than normal by the door being unlocked. When I got outside I found Atsida, his three friends, the three guards, and six others that I didn't know.
"What's this?" I asked looking around.
"You are to teach them how you fight," Ahiga said.
"That will take years," I said looking at him.
"Yes," he replied and walked away.
I shrugged and looked at the others. "Form three lines," I told them, and then I started them on the basics, and some stretching exercises.