From Westeros to Essos : The Crusader King
Chapter 16 – The Pale Slave
For the past few days or so, Konrad found himself cursing himself for his stupidity. If only he had listened to his uncle and Ser Tyrek then maybe he would have been forced to clean after the crew of a slaver's ship.
Suddenly, Konrad heard the same heavy footsteps making their way towards him and his new friend, Rakko. Frankly speaking, Konrad had been weary of the dark-skinned boy, but after almost an entire week of helping each other as much as they could, they did become acquaintances, considering their circumstances. Especially when Rakko was half Dothraki, and that made him quite a valuable slave for the slavers.
"Hurry up, you rats!"
The crack of a whip sounded somewhere on the deck which made everyone speed up. Out of nowhere, Rakko collapsed out of exhaustion beside Konrad, making the pale boy panic, fearing that the slavers would throw the Dothraki boy overboard. Before the scared slaver could realize what happened, Konrad went beside Rakko and grabbed his shoulder, gathering his strength to pull the boy up on his feet.
"No. Get up! The whipping man is coming," Konrad pleaded with his acquaintance, alas to no result. At this point, after having little food and sleep over the last few days, Rakko was out cold.
"Oi, rat! What do you think you're doing?" The scared man stomped towards them with an angry scoff on his ugly face.
"Get up, Rakko!" Konrad shouted again, and yet no reaction. Seeing that he did what he thought was best and turned towards the scared man. "Please, sir. He just fell."
Pushing the young lord away, the man roughly grabbed Rakko by his shoulders and yanked him to his feet, scaring the Dothraki boy awake.
"I'm sorry. Please don't!"
"Fucking rat!" The man spat on the floor, before grabbing Rakko by the hair. "You'll have to be punished. "
Unable to do anything, Konrad watched helplessly as the slaver dragged Rakko away, ignoring his pleas and cries. He felt a surge of anger and hatred towards the man, but he knew he was powerless to do anything. He had seen what the slavers did to those who resisted or disobeyed. They whipped them, burned them, cut off their limbs, or threw them overboard to the sharks. Konrad did not want to end up like that. He wanted to survive, to escape, to return to his home and family.
He forced himself to focus on his work, hoping that Rakko would somehow be spared. He had to carry buckets of water from one end of the ship to the other, scrubbing the deck and the sails, feeding the animals and the less able to move slaves, and doing whatever else the slavers ordered him to do. He was shackled by a heavy iron chain that connected his ankles and wrists, making every movement painful and exhausting. And above all, thanks to his looks, the sun burned his skin, while the salty water stung his wounds, making his day a living hell. At the same time, Konrad tried his best not to think about his friend, but he could not help it. Amongst all of the fifty-seven slaves that were on their ship, other than Rakko, Konrad hadn't managed to talk to any of them, mostly due to his pale skin, red eyes, and white hair, making him look like some kind of abomination.
But Konrad did not care about their likes and dislikes as long as it didn't interfere with his life. He knew they were all in the same boat, literally and figuratively. They were all victims of the slavers, all destined for a life of misery and servitude. He did not blame them for their hatred or mistrust, as most of them were only scared and desperate, just like him.
Instead, he focused on his chores, doing them as quickly and quietly as he could, trying to make himself as invisible as a seven-name days-old pale boy could be. When the sun set and the night fell, he was allowed to go back to the cargo area where all of the slaves were being kept. It was a dark and filthy place, filled with chains, cages, and crates, and far away from being proper sleeping quarters, but it was all Konrad and the slaves got. As for the smell… God knows just how much Konrad wanted to kill some of the bastards who did their needs right in the middle of the cargo area just because they could.
Like always, Konrad went into the corner he claimed as his and started to pray to God. He knelt on the floor, clasped his hands, and closed his eyes. He whispered a prayer that he had learned from his memories of his older self, a prayer that he hoped would reach the heavens and bring him some comfort and hope.
"God the Father almighty, hear my plea. I am a stranger in a foreign land, a captive of the wicked. I have been taken from my home, my family, my friends. I have been sold to the slavers, who treat me worse than a dog. I have seen horrors that no one should ever see. I have suffered pains that no one should ever feel.
But I still have faith in you, God
Please, Father almighty, do not forsake me. Please, God, do not forget me. Please, God, do not abandon me.
Give me the strength to endure this trial. Give me the courage to face this enemy. Give me the wisdom to find a way out. Give me peace to calm my soul.
And above all, give me grace to forgive those who have wronged me. For they know not what they do.
Amen."
As he was praying, a few of the children saw him and got curious about what the pale boy was doing. It was the seventh time they had seen the boy doing and muttering the same thing every night and yet, no matter how much they wanted to forget about it, something seemed to pull them towards the boy every time they thought otherwise.
While they hadn't talked with the boy, they approached him slowly and quietly, not wanting to disturb him or draw attention to themselves. As soon as all ten of them got into a circle around the boy, they too kneeled on the dirty floor and clasped their hands before following the boy's words.
Strangely enough, the longer they followed the boy's words, the calmer and more relaxed they felt, to the point that they even forgot about the wounds the shackles had done to them. It was something neither one of the kids had ever witnessed or felt before and yet, the only reason all of them were so comfortable was because of a single boy, one that they had chosen to ignore, fearing that he would eat them.
Unbeknownst to Konrad, his prayers will change the lives of many people.
The next night, those ten kids that had prayed with him a day earlier came back and this time, a few women and old men decided to join them, thanks to one of the children mentioning the pale boy's powers. With nothing better to do than wait, these women and old men thought that there was nothing to lose if they prayed to a God they had never heard before and if nothing else, they hoped that at least He would hear their cries and help them in their misery.
When they saw the children joining the pale boy and nothing bad happened to them, one by one they too joined Konrad in his corner, kneeling on the floor and clasping their hands before repeating the words the boy preached. And above all, they closed their eyes, opening their hearts.
Halfway through the prayer, the same strange thing happened again. While neither one of the children felt anything different from last night, the same thing can't be said for the adults as the women felt how their bodies were slowly but surely healing from their wounds and bruises while the old men felt how they slowly gained bits of strength.
Neither one of them understood what was happening, or why it was happening, after all, strange things happen all the time in the world. But they did not question it, or doubt it. Instead, all of them accepted it and embraced it. Yet, one of the men, at least forty days old, looked at the pale boy with a shocked expression on his face, almost like he couldn't believe what he had just witnessed.
The man didn't look like the rest of the slaves, he wasn't frail or beaten, but instead, he seemed healthier than any of them, yet he looked more ragged than anyone Konrad had ever seen, almost like he was some kind of savage.
Just like yesterday, after thanking Konrad for letting them "play "with him, the children left him alone followed closely by most of the adults with only the savage-looking man staying behind, still looking at the young lord like he was watching a creature from the stories.
Noticing the strange-looking man still watching him, Konrad didn't know what to do. Should he just ignore him or maybe he should engage the man? Or worse, if the man was a septon or a priest of R'hllor … should he fighting back? After all such people were more than usually fanatics, finding any other religious blasphemous.
With nothing to lose other than his life, Konrad decided to see what the man wanted from him, so he got up on his feet and slowly approached the man. When he was just short of two meters away from the man, to Konrad's surprise, the man walked forward before looking straight into his eyes.
"You…" The man paused almost as if he was thinking about his next words. "Look like Arryn the Andal."
Konrad quickly realized what the man meant and judging by his appearance, the man was one of the mountain tribesmen from the Vale, that's why he called Lord Arryn, Arryn the Andal. While he was only three name's days old when Tyrek saved him from the assassins, Konrad had heard stories about the wild men who lived in the mountains of the moon, raiding and pillaging the villages and travelers of the Vale from his uncle. They were fierce and proud warriors, who hated the Andals and their lords, mostly because they saw the influx of Andals as thieves stealing their lands.
"Yes, I look like Arryn the Andal, because I am his son. My name is Konrad Arryn, son of Jon Arryn and Lady Jeyne Royce. And you are?"
"Gendel, son of Gorne, of the Red Hands. Well, I guess was of the Red Hands. All of my people died or have been taken slaves by those people."
Hearing the man's words, Konrad didn't know how to react. The Vale of Arryn was one of the few places in the whole seven kingdoms with a natural defense, and yet somehow slavers managed to slip right past everyone's noses and capture an entire clan and even managed to get them out of the Vale without being found. Then again, with his father away from the Vale to rule, chances are that one or more lords, could have made a deal with the slavers to get rid of some mountain tribes in exchange for gold, the only problem was who would such an immoral act?
"Do… do you know who would allow such a thing to happen?"
"That bastard Baelish, son of a whore. He is the lord of the Fingers, where the slavers came from. He must have made a deal with them, to sell us like cattle. He has always hated us, ever since we raided his lands one time in the winter… Fucking traitor, sold us like some cattle!"
A new lord to the Fingers? That was something Konrad hadn't thought would ever happen, then again, his father was not exactly fit to rule over seven kingdoms, considering just how bad the current king was. Besides, this new lord, Baelish, doesn't seem to be a good person considering that he was willing to work with slavers.
"If I may ask you, chieftain, when did this Baelish take over the Fingers?"
"Four or three years ago. Bloody bastard appeared as soon as Arryn the Andal married another Andal woman. You, Andals are just a bunch of thieves, that don't understand anything!"
Ignoring the last part, Konrad realizes that maybe his goodmother and this Baelish might be friends, considering that the man became a lord as soon as she became Lady Arryn.
"And what about you, lamb? How did you end up here?"
"A long story, Chieftain Gendel. One that I have no doubts will bore you out of your mind."
To Konrad's surprise, the mountain man let out a laugh.
"Bah, little lordling. We are in this shithole, do you think I have anything better to do?"
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