The Road to Arkosia (Ch2 - Part 4)

Vermon let out a deep sigh as he watched Orb hide the blade under his cloak, then stooping to wash his face with only his right hand. He seemed to enjoy himself as he placed his palm under the stream of water flowing from the mouth of the statue for some time.

Unfortunately for Orb, an arm shoved him roughly aside, causing him to stumble and fall on his back. Believing the assailant was Vermon, Orb quickly got up and attempted to strike back; however, he saw three silhouettes standing next to each other as if they were one massive body of a three-headed dragon.

“It appears you are not acquainted with the city’s laws,” someone exclaimed in disgust. “Don’t you know that slaves are prohibited from drinking from this fountain?”

Unaware of the eyes fixed on his tightly wrapped left hand, Orb wondered how they could know that he was a slave.

His body was perfectly wrapped with the cloak, and the seal on his hand was covered in bandages. However, the answer came to him quickly, as if they knew what he was thinking.

“The burning still smells fresh. Oh, look! He’s blind!” Another one sneered.

Orb was taken completely by surprise when one of them pulled off his cloak and hit him on the arm with a cane.

“Kneel down, you blind slave! Kneel and apologize at once!” the assailant ordered.

The blow was strong and unforeseen, which startled Orb and angered him. He felt he had had enough.

For days, he had been subjected to perpetual attacks and violence, first from his captor, Vermon, and now from these strangers.

Hence, Orb extended his wet hand to hold the cane when it fell on his arm for the second time amid the astonishment of the three young men, who regarded him with strong and obvious hostility because his reaction as a slave was outright insolence and a form of rebellion against them, the nobles of Arkosia.

The cane owner tried to pull it with all his strength, and Orb held it with his hand in a savage stubbornness until he pulled his enemy toward him, making him stumble and fall to one knee.

The second young man pounced on Orb with a quick but clumsy punch, and the latter ducked to dodge it.

As the third one attempted to help his friends fight against Orb, he tried stabbing him with his dagger. Yet, Orb noticed the brightness of its blade and managed to roll backward at the last moment.

Before the three resumed their attack together on Orb, who stood facing them with his chest rising and falling in great tension, he was startled by a sudden blow from behind.

It was a painful first lash from a whip that landed on his back and made him fall to his knees. At that moment, he heard Vermon’s angry voice shaking the place.

“You insolent worthless slave! How dare you misbehave in my presence?”

Vermon’s whip slashed across Orb’s back repeatedly and ruthlessly. The three assailants were forced to stay where they were.

On the other hand, Orb found himself unable to move or speak; he felt as if his body and tongue were tied.

What’s happening to me? Why can’t I move my body? Orb remained in his kneeling position, unable to look back. Could it be that monster? Does he possess the power to control me? He bitterly guessed.

With tears in his eyes, Orb struggled to suppress the prolonged low sounds of pain he could utter at that moment.

“Is he your slave?” One of the three assailants questioned.

Vermon’s angry voice answered, “Regrettably, yes!”

Orb’s body continued to receive Vermon’s brutal lashing, inviting some curious onlookers to the place. The spectators took delight in watching the torment of Orb.

Some of them were drinking from bottles, and others, while crossing their arms, were sniggering at his emaciated body, trembling with every lash.

“Sell him to me. I want him!” Demanded the cane owner as he fixed his eyes on Orb in apparent resentment.

“The law cannot be broken,” Vermon bluntly refused him as he continued to lash Orb. “Furthermore, he is my new toy, and I recently got him while traveling abroad.”

“I want to make him suffer, for no slave has ever disrespected his masters as he has done.”

“I AM his master, and taming him is MY responsibility! I’m afraid I will turn down your request, son of Syrphadous!” Vermon stated, eyes blazing fiercely.

“I’m warning you not to refuse me since you know who I am,” Ayege[1], son of Syrphadous[2], argued.

“And I’m warning you not to lay your hand on the property of the empire’s glorious Knight! Your foolish attempt provokes not only me, but the Crown Prince and the emperor!”

After mentioning the emperor and his son, Vermon’s last words forced the three young men to return their ready-to-fight hands to their positions in reverence.

Vermon’s words were also the reason for many spectators to lose the desire to watch, so they immediately dispersed.

Vermon lashed Orb’s back for the fifteenth time, adding, “There is nothing remarkable about this blind slave. He has contracted an illness that weakened his lungs and has not even recovered,” Vermon’s voice grew fierce, “And this punishment is for his insolence.”

Vermon finally stopped lashing Orb. He released him from his control and watched him collapse in terrible agony. He then kicked him and ordered him to stand up. 

Orb, who struggled to muffle his grunts, could barely get up on his feet. They trembled from what he tasted and endured until he fell to the ground again.

Orb tried to stand again but failed. He continued to lie on the ground in weariness. Therefore, Vermon pulled him by his blood-stained shirt without looking at him, leading him away from the place to where his horse was on the other side of the road.

He wrapped Orb’s bloody waist with a new rope hanging on the back of his horse. Orb involuntarily let out a whimper as the rope hurt him, but Vermon ordered him to stand despite the severity of his pain.

“Serves you right! All of this for a drink of water! Why didn’t you ask for my canteen?”

Vermon mounted his horse and led Orb across the road without looking at him.

Looking for support as he walked, Orb repeatedly tried to cling to the edge of the horse’s saddle. However, amid his fatigue and preoccupation with suppressing his moans, his hand was missing the place, occasionally touching one side of the horse and, other times, Vermon’s leg. When the latter felt it, he pretended not to notice.

“I saved you—for the fifth time? The sixth time? How many times have I saved you? Thank me!” Vermon complained.

“....”

“Thank me, you bastard!”

“I WILL NOT.”

Orb finally shouted in anger before he returned to closing his lips tight to avoid any moan coming out that would make his enemy gloat.

Orb obstinately walked a few steps ahead of his master, instantly enraging him. Hence, Vermon pulled Orb back, forcing him to drop to the ground in the middle of the road.

The two of them stopped moving and kept silent for a few moments.

“You blind, useless slave! I saved your life! Those three were the sons of the Imperial Advisors, men of authority and power. We both avoided being in real trouble because—in truth,” Vermon squinted his eyes, looking at Orb, then muttered, “You have nothing to do with the emperor nor the Crown Prince! I lied and had to beat you to protect you from unimaginable torture. Thank me!”

Orb remained silent and indifferent to the intentions of his tormentor. He was desperately battling the pain of his blood-stained back and of walking on his sore feet for a long time.

What he battled the most was the tears, which, gathered in his eyes, he did not want his tormentor to see.

Thus, he stood up, keeping his flaming back straight and sustaining what was left of his wounded pride without saying anything.

Vermon frowned at Orb’s silence and could not understand why Orb did not wish to admit his mistake or at least thank him.

Not wanting more attention from the onlookers, Vermon decided to discipline Orb when they reached his house, so he continued his course without further harassing him.

* * *

End of Chapter (2)