DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hannah nor Thierry (altho I wish I did .) ljane smith is a writing genius blah blah ENJOY!
"Sire, you think we should give her some of that golden wine?" Asked the man on the horse that had me attached to him. I was in chains, people were talking about me, but I hardly noticed anything as I was led to this 'kingdom'. The men on the horses say it should be coming up fast. I didn't care.
"Nate, do you think she needs it? The girl has seen her own mother die before her eyes." Said the man on the horse behind the one I was chained to. Nate looked at me suspiciously, and I tried my best to keep a numb expression. It was pretty easy. I just had to remember my mother's death that occurred not so long ago.
"I guess your right Marcus." Nate mumbled. Marcus nodded, pleasantly pleased that he was right. He looked like a suck up. Nate glanced at my face once again, and pulled on my chains. I looked up from the curtain of my dark hair. Nate looked from side to side and leaned down his saddle. I came closer to catch his whisper. "Don't be afraid. What's your name?" I remained silent. "Oh, never mind. It's best, anyways, if you do not reveal your true name." He straightened then and resumed staring straight ahead. He seemed nice, but I had to remind myself I was chained to him.
Just then, the men on horses started cheering and as I lifted my head, I knew why. A great, big, white castle situated on an impressive mountain loomed ahead. From this vantage point, I can see three towers that touched the clouds. As we got closer and the sun dipped lower, I saw the castle as it really was: huge and right out of a fairytale.
"We're almost home." Nate said cheerfully. He looked at my sideways. "Come up with a new name?" I shook my head. "Well, I came up with one." He said grinning. "Anora." The name struck a cord. So much like my old name but different. I liked it very much. Anora.
"I like it." I whispered through parched lips. Nate didn't look at me but I saw him smile out of the corner of my eye. He honestly didn't seem like a bad guy at all, I felt at ease with him near. Maybe it was just this slave trading business that makes him look bad. Unable to bear curiosity I whispered, "Did you choose to become involved in the slave trading business?" He frowned and shook his head. I knew it.
"My parents are strongly influenced by the owner of the slaves. He's done so much for our family. I was the only child and they used me to pay him back."
"By working for him?" He nodded and looked me directly in the eyes.
"Its not so bad. The other slaves here are in a trance because its easier to handle them when we're on the move. Some are happy to get away from their miserable lives. Also, the slave owner may have bad title, but he has a reputation as the kindest guy in all of England." I must have given him a confused look because he added, "you'll get it when you see him."
Shocked, I whispered. "See him?" See him how? I've realized now what I've gotten myself into. This slave owner owns me. He can do whatsoever he wished with me. Force me. Men have desires. They need to satiate those desires.
"No! No, no. Not like that. I mean, he comes out and greets the slaves. He's a nice guy, honestly. He would never hurt anyone." Nate looked directly into my eyes and I could tell he only spoke the truth. I turned my face away and didn't reply. Some things need to be proven not by words, but by actions. I was being so naïve. Nate looked like a nice guy but on the inside he could be a madman. And this slave owner is given the reputation as the kindest guy in England? Well, why didn't I hear of him? No one in Hemingway has heard of him, I'm sure. So Nate could be lying. All the other slaves could be in trances because probably they are led to slavery without them knowing. Or worse, they might be being led to their deaths.
As that realization hit and everyone was entering the castle, I let my instincts take over.
I knocked out Nate with a punch and set myself free by stealing the key, which was hanging around his neck, to my lock and sprinted towards the exit.
