The Road to Arkosia (Ch2 - Part 2)

When Orb woke up for the third time, he found his body resting on a bed with a thin sheet and one pillow.

He inspected his clothes: a clean white shirt and long pants of the same color. He also noticed a clean white bandage around his sealed hand and feet.

Although he was relatively comfortable, the frequent sensation of stinging in his hand and eyes still hurt him, and a general feeling of weariness and weakness was present.

He scanned the place and was only sure that he was still aboard the ship, which swayed and rolled on water, leaving him to struggle with the relentless urge to vomit.

Orb’s bed was to the left of the cabin wall, on which the sailors hung a glass lamp containing the luminous Dopteira[1] butterflies.

He could recognize their graceful movement despite his inability to determine the minute parts of their tiny bodies.

He saw these children of the glorious sun as yellow balls of light hovering inside the glass above his head in gentle tranquility.

To his right was a small table on which rested a water basin with a cloth rag swimming in it. There was also a bottle of red liquid, of which he could not distinguish the aroma after temporarily losing his sense of smell. However, he guessed that it was another anti-plague medicine.

Tired and needing more rest, Orb did not attempt to get up. He could hear the roaring sea and the creaking planks around him while the small ship swayed left and right.

The sailors’ excited chatting and cursing reached his ears, and at times, he could hear them singing ancient ballads in their own Arkosian dialect, which was hard to understand.

Just when Orb closed his eyes to go back to sleep, Vermon stormed in. “Are you not going to get up and leave my bed? You’ve been sleeping here since yesterday!” He stood before Orb. “I hate feeble men!” he snarled.

Vermon kept staring at Orb’s impassive features, searching for a reaction that would thrill him. However, Orb remained silent.

So, I spent a whole day sleeping on this monster’s bed, but why? And where did he spend his night? He was curious.

“Fortunately for you, there was the Imperial physician on board who examined you, dressed your wounds, and prescribed that medicine —You owe me three gold coins, you bastard!”

“Indeed, it must have cost a fortune! However, as the terrible taste of the medicine is still in my mouth, I can testify with certainty of your appalling ignorance,” Orb mocked with his hands resting on his chest and still, without opening his eyes.

“What?” Vermon hissed.

“The medicine is not worth this price — because its elements are abundant in nature; — that is, they are not rare herbs of high value, — I can detect turmeric, black pepper, and cinnamon in this—expensive medicine of yours—such components are found in your kitchen— You have been robbed, Vermon, son of Uthus, — congratulations on being a fool!”

Vermon stood there frozen, his face flush while listening to the flow of Orb’s mocking words that few coughs interrupted.

Certainly, Orb had difficulty breathing, but he succeeded in infuriating Vermon, who, again, was about to resort to violence.

When he leaned toward Orb, intending to punch him in the face, Orb suddenly opened his damaged eyes, causing his opponent to freeze for a second.

Vermon then contented himself with yanking Orb’s frail body against his.

“The gold coins were the price I paid to save a worthless, blind, filthy, and ugly slave who received this service from a high-ranking physician. I intend to put you in your place. So, never forget your reality. You, arrogant smug.”

This torrent of insults Vermon unleashed was unbearable for Orb, who asserted in a feigned indifference, “That’s your opinion, not my realit...” Vermon silenced him with a sudden slap across his face.

“Never talk back to your master! I should cut this tongue of yours out! Would it kill you to be grateful? I saved you for the fourth time. Thank me!”

“....” Orb tightened his lips in fury and said nothing.

“THANK ME!” Vermon impatiently barked.

“I WILL NOT!” Orb snapped while opening his damaged eyes wide. “You attacked me when I was ill, enslaved me when I was born free, dragged me against my will to your country, humiliated me—” Orb was interrupted by his own cough but went on, “NEVER. I WILL NEVER THANK YOU!”

“…”

Vermon was stunned by Orb’s vicious reaction but did not say a word. His beautiful big eyes were glaring at the angry slave, who was panting by the time he finished shouting.

As a master and according to the Arkosian law, Vermon could kill him at once and easily. However, he only released Orb from his grip and hurled him onto the bed.

“I regret saving you!” He let out an exasperated sigh, and before leaving the cabin, he finished coldly, “Get ready. We will make landfall tomorrow.”

Orb felt worried about the strange reaction of his oppressor and the horrors awaiting him in the Arkosian Empire, the home of that villain.

He imagined himself suffering endless torments, for he had read about their cruelty, ruthlessness, extreme laws, and strange customs, which were unlike anything he knew about other monarchies.

Was it too late for him to attempt to escape and release himself from captivity and the humiliation he suffered at the hands of his oppressor? Orb had his doubts and worries.

He shifted uncomfortably as his heart was beating too fast in turmoil, and that feeling increased when he heard a commotion on deck and someone screaming for help. Shouts, which called for saving someone, were silenced by Vermon’s terrifying threats to kill whoever dared to interfere.

Afterward, Orb heard the captain giving orders to his men to disperse and return to work. Orb guessed that mess was Vermon’s doing.

* * *

That night, Orb woke up again to a conversation taking place behind the cabin door. Two men were talking about Vermon, who had broken into the captain’s cabin after excessive drinking that night to quarrel with him.

“Haven’t you seen him this afternoon? He threw the Imperial Physician into the sea and watched him drown,” the first complained, “He did it in a heartbeat.”

The other one quickly retorted, “That’s just typical of him!”

“I thought he would change his mind and rescue him as he rescued his slave yesterday.”

“Are you kidding? We all know how unpredictable Vermon is. But it’s not the first time. We’ve seen Vermon’s frightening fits of rage before, haven’t we?”

There was a moment of silence.

“I heard the captain a while ago clearly objecting to Vermon’s excessive violence with the poor physician, which might cause a great damage to his reputation as a captain of this ship,” the first one observed.

“As for Vermon, he did not believe what he did was a crime because the physician tricked him by selling him cheap medicine for a high price. Vermon must have been frustrated because he was forced to beg the old man, again and again, to hand out the medicine and take care of his new slave!” He added.

For a moment, the sound of their voices fell and rose again. One of them cautiously opened the door and left it ajar. Then, he asserted, “You see that? He has been sleeping in his master’s cabin since yesterday.”

“Perhaps he felt guilty,” the other guessed.

“Vermon feeling guilty? Do you think so?”

“It was Vermon who threw him into the water and Vermon who rescued him.”

There was another moment of silence.

They closed the door behind them, and Orb heard their footsteps gradually fade away. He closed his eyes and concluded from that short conversation that Vermon could feel remorse and empathy despite his violent, reckless, and raging nature.

Orb was astonished.

He never imagined that the very brute who had tossed him into the water would be the one to save him.

He also never imagined that the same brute who had been cruel to him before they boarded the ship would offer him his cabin to rest in and even summon the Imperial Physician to treat him.

Will he remove the seal and grant me my freedom if I convince him? Orb naively thought about that, not knowing that the much-dreaded seal of Uthus was unremovable.

* * *

On the third day, Vermon gave Orb a long cloak with a hood he pulled over his head. He told him to wear it temporarily until they reached his house. Vermon also reluctantly gave his slave new shoes.

Although the size was too big for him, they sufficed to help him walk down the capital’s streets. Vermon already guessed how difficult it was for his slave to walk barefoot with his torn feet.

While staring at Orb, Vermon insisted that what he did was not an act of generosity but rather an attempt on his part to protect his privacy, as he disliked drawing attention to himself and his new slave, who could be made into a gossip subject.

Orb, who stood in the cabin listening to Vermon’s warnings and threats, thought he intended those useless words to intimidate him.

Vermon also did not intend to let Orb ride a horse even after his illness and the condition of his feet, for he did not want to look soft and easygoing in front of his slave.

Vermon secretly feared Orb would take advantage of that and plan to escape. Of course, I am not that stupid to go giving him ideas!

* * *