The lack of air was what dragged Heero to wakefulness. Struggling to pull in a breath, his gaze met a pair of infuriated sky blue eyes while his fingers could only scrabble at the light chain that was choking the life from him. The length he'd attached to Quatre's one wrist cuff was now being used against him. Somehow, that angelic blonde had looped it around his throat without him noticing. Trying to grab the chain itself, sharp teeth met his fingers, the boy actually biting him to keep his hands away. Dumb shock filtered through Heero's oxygen deprived mind, trying to figure out how something so innocent looking could be killing him.
A hissing grasp escaped Heero as Quatre pulled harder on the chain, doing his damnest to strangle his captor. Snapping again at the hands trying to touch him, the boy kept silent. A twist of his body brought the sheet around Heero's legs as well. If he started to convulse in a death rattle, attention might be attracted by the noise. No one, but no one, took the son of a Winner and stupidly tried to subject them to bondage. Duo had taught him better than that. After he finished off this one, he could sneak out, grab a horse and return home… or die trying.
With black roses blooming before his eyes, Heero bucked, trying to throw off the blonde or at least rock him enough to get the chain loose. Dying in his own bed was not what he would have called a proper death. Luck was with him in that Quatre was so slender, muscle there but not enough to match him blow for blow. With the blonde falling off the side of the bed, Heero clawed the chain away from his throat, gulping in air greedily as he tried to get his unresponsive legs to support him. The myriad of stars suddenly clouding his vision was the next nasty surprise.
Quatre wrapped his hands together, fingers lacing through each other as if in prayer and swung at his captor's jaw this time. While he didn't overly like the bands surrounding his wrists, their metal weight created a good force of impact when struck alongside the Abydians' head the first time. A second blow would hopefully crack his skull open. No such luck it would appear as his hands connected again, nearly rolling the already stunned raider. Stopped by the pull of his chain from the wall, Quatre snarled to himself. Just another few inches, and he could wrap the length back around that bastard's throat!
Heero hacked, sounding like a sick dog as he tried to regain his feet once more. The entire room dipped and tilted on him, although he was now sure that he'd somehow nabbed a demon instead of a kawaii angel. Both knocks to his head had confirmed that thought. Trickles of warm blood slid down his cheeks in small threads, bringing him somewhat back to reality. The situation was out of control to say the least. If he didn't get that control back, then Quatre might very well kill him. If he died, there would be nothing stopping Zechs from slaughtering the boy. No slave killed a free person. Ever. "Damn it," he slurred out, making a wild grab for the blonde.
A sharp kick impacted with Heero's side, knocking the air back out of his starved lungs. Dropping to his knees, the Abydian was now sure of his earlier theory. A demon. Had to be. There was no other explanation. Another kick caught him square under the chin and across his shoulder, throwing him backwards. Cloth fluttered around him as he rolled back into a boneless heap, vaguely surprised to find he was staring up at Zechs and Noin, the latter looking as shocked as he felt. Well, would feel if he could get the cloudiness on his mind to break up.
Booming laughter filled the common room as Zechs took in the sight of a bloodied Heero tumbling backwards out of his own room. He'd heard the first stirrings from in there, having made sure he was up early enough to watch the show. Few people were ever happy to go to sleep free and wake up in slavery. He had doubted Quatre would be any different. As he'd seen last night when he'd asked to see the boy's hand, Zechs had realized Quatre was more than capable of holding his own from the muscles laying beneath that silky skin, not to mention the calluses that could only be caused from holding and using a weapon. Now as he watched one of his best warriors being kicked hind over head to his own feet, Zechs knew he'd been right. More laughter broke out from the other tribesmen and women seeing this. Some of them had already been in Heero's place.
Reaching down, Zechs took Heero's chin in his head, examining the bloody bruising wrapping across the warrior's throat. That was mildly alarming. The boy was willing to kill to get out. He would let Heero attempt to handle this, but if it went too far, he'd have to step in and kill the new slave most likely. "Chained him up right beside you and then fell asleep, didn't you?"
Heero managed a confused nod as he stumbled into a standing position, held up for a time by Zechs' grasp on his arm. His legs were just refusing to work properly, probably too many blows to his head. Getting himself shored up, Heero scowled, "Woke up, and he was choking me."
Zechs snickered softly, disguising his own misgivings still. If he let Heero know he believed this was a lost cause, the warrior might believe it himself. While that would have set Zechs' fears at ease, he needed Heero to realize it himself. "If you had suddenly been taken from all that you know and awoken to find yourself someone's bed toy, wouldn't you be a bit upset?"
"Well…"
"Well nothing. You're damn lucky he didn't kill you. At least your weapon wasn't near your bed, otherwise, you might have woken up in Allah's arms instead of here. What are you going to do now?"
Heero's dark gaze moved back to the now silent room that he'd just been literally tossed out of. How the Hell someone that small hit that damn hard was beyond him. His ears were going to be ringing for a week to come. He just looked so… small, not to mention that he was naked. Few people could fight unclothed. The gods only knew why, but having a person's clothing taken from them and left bare usually put them in a submissive position. Shaking his head to try to clear it, Heero stalked back towards it, determined to show who was in charge here.
It took exactly ten minute for him to be sprawled right back out at Zech's feet, bleeding worse than before. Staggering this time as Zechs and Alec helped him up, Heero blinked at them with a pair of nicely bruising eyes. "He got up on top the door ledge. Dropped right on me. How long is that damned chain?"
"It's only five feet," Alec managed to get out between snickers. "It's long enough for him to sleep comfortably, or so we thought. You better take a break, Hee-chan. He's going to kill you if you keep this up."
Zechs nodded as he took the stunned warrior's arm, leading him to the fire for breakfast. "Let him be for awhile and get hungry. He's locked down with nowhere he can go. Eventually, he'll get starved enough to listen or at least let you in, or he'll think things through and realize there's no way out but to settle down or be run through with a blade. We have things to do, Heero, and no time for a stubborn slave."
Numbly accepting the food sat before him, Heero put up with Sally Po starting to clean up his face. Her attempting to smother laughter brought a dark look from him. "What?"
"At least you know he's got good teeth. I see about seven imprints of them on your shoulders alone. I think the one might scar, and the other four need stitched," she replied, struggling to keep a straight face.
"I'd go in there and take a whip to him, Heero," spoke up a sullen voice from across the flames.
It was Une that faced him now, the woman's cold beauty nothing compared to the cruelty she'd shown to some of those below her in the past. She was the one person within the tribe that had no slaves of her own, not allowed them any longer because of her harshness to them. Never was she allowed to be alone with the tribe's workers either, the group knowing full well that she had the tendency to reach for the whip to solve any problems. The woman's slender shoulders rolled in a shrug as her gaze fixed him like a bug on a pin. "You let him think he's in control now, and you'll never get it back."
"Shut up, Une," Sally snapped, flicking a fingertip at Heero's already bruised nose to get his attention. "Heero, if you do that, you're just confirming every bad thought he's having right now."
"I agree," Zechs rumbled from beside him, eating his own breakfast as he fed Noin from his plate. "Never, ever pick up a weapon to strike at a slave because you're angry, regardless of what they do. You wouldn't take a strap to a child when upset with them, and you don't to a slave. Calm down first and think it over. You strike him one time in anger, and he will never forget it or forgive you. You'll end up with one like hers. Afraid of their own shadows and cowering from anyone who comes near them or so bloody rageful that you'll have to kill them just to be sure they won't kill you first. A slave is unarmed and weak. Warriors do not torture the weak and helpless just to have their wills imposed on them."
Une snorted as he ate her own food, openly giving Zechs a glare. She was a powerful warrioress in her own right, but respect of the tribe was something she would never gain. "They're adults, not children, Zechs. Coddling them gets nothing but weak flesh."
"Better than dead flesh, Une, and I would pit the worth of nearly any man against that of my Noin. She can haul as much water as any of them, can tend to any and all of our stock, and runs the household of our home with more efficiency than I have seen before. I do not call that weakness," Zechs replied, ignoring her for the most part as he turned away. The discussion was finished as far as he was concerned.
The woman shook her head and pointed at Heero. "Mark me, Heero. This disobedience will only get worse if you allow it. Eventually, it will progress to where you have to put him down if you let it. Then it will be your failing as a Master."
"Old cow," Sally muttered under her breath as Une stalked off to get her group together for scouting. "Jealous old cow at that. None that she ever brought back were as fine as Quatre or Noin."
Heero's thoughts whirled, the male still confused for the most part. Une had a point, as did Zechs. What if he was letting Quatre become something useless by catering to his whims instead of showing who was Master and who was slave? But what if he did strike the blonde and make him like the one ruined slave he had seen of Une's? Her last one, named Marlius, had been a frail looking brunette male, much like Quatre himself. The boy had skittered away from anyone who came close to him. If cornred, he would burst into tears and trying to cover himself as if to cushion blows he expected to be coming. Heero couldn't remember a day when he'd not seen a bruise on the slave. After two weeks of this, Zechs had taken the lad away and given him to another tribe that they dealt with. Last Heero had seen of Marlius, he'd been smiling and much stronger looking among the slaves of that group, but that fear still lingered in his eyes whenever a free person approached him. What if he scarred Quatre on the mental level permanently?
A heavy hand slapping his hurt shoulder jerked Heero out of those thoughts as if he'd had freezing water thrown on him. Zechs' cold blue eyes were regarding him as the man retracted his hand, dismissing Noin to go wash his plate up. With only himself, the Abydians chief, and Sally still left at the fire, Heero found nothing distracting that could pull him out from under that intense study. A fingertip of Zechs' rose to nearly touch the tip of Heero's nose, the leader's gaze never wavering from his own. "Listen to me, Heero, and listen well. If I see you pick up a whip to go in there after him, I will use my right and take him from you. Don't, Heero. Some birds are just too beautiful to be caged and some animals just too wild. He might be one of those. If he is, then… well, we'll decide that when we come to it. Beating him isn't going to bring him any closer to you, nor will I see anyone made as Noin was when we first found her. What one person can do with a single strike, it will take months or years for another to undo. Cruelty isn't something any man, woman, child, or animal responds to well or forgets easily.
"I'll send Sally in there later to check and make sure he hasn't hurt himself after she finishes looking at you, but no one is going to feed him but you. When he gets hungry, he might settle down some. Right now, he's in a strange place with strange people and frightened out of his mind. When I first brought Noin back here, she nearly broke my jaw when she first came to. You wouldn't think a woman that small could hit that hard, but she knocked me unconscious because I wasn't expecting it. It took three days for me to get close enough to touch her. Another five months passed before I could be in the same room alone with her and she wouldn't try to hide in a corner. A full year passed before I bedded her. It was all because a foolish git thought that the best way to make a proud and strong woman weak was to beat her senseless when he thought she required it. I don't need or want another slave, but before I let another be set into the mold that Noin was, I will take him, Heero. It'll hurt me to see you unable to handle him yourself, but I will do it. Hold no doubts about that."
A slow nod answered Zechs as Heero glanced towards his sleeping quarters. It was dead silent in there, Quatre perhaps waiting for him to attempt to re-enter. Sighing to himself, he felt foolish for his momentary anger that made him want to seize the nearest weapon and take it to Quatre. Shame flushed his cheeks, something he knew that Zechs saw, and something he wanted to hide. He felt like a child that had been trying to train a puppy to sit that wouldn't listen and reacted with those same childish instincts. The gentler slap of Zechs' hand on his shoulder told him that all was forgiven as the tribal leader went to tend to his own duties. Sally's gentle gaze was all he met when he finally lifted his head. "It's so easy, isn't it?"
"What is?" she questioned softly, finishing her ministrations to his throat.
"It's so easy to forget that it's a person you're dealing with. Easy to not remember that it's a living, feeling, breathing person instead of a piece of wood."
Sally smiled gently as she ruffled his hair. "Yes, it is, but knowing that fact and remembering it even when you want nothing worse than to strike out will do you and him a world of good."
Nodding softly, Heero rose to his feet and slipped out of the cave, wanting to get his own work finished as soon as possible and back to what really concerned him.
***
The gentle hand that had touched Heero's head nearly half an hour ago slid through the spun gold locks of Quatre's own hair as Sally Po gazed down at the sleeping boy. Unlike Heero, she was prepared for the upwards swing of the Arabian's twined hands for the point of her chin. Her own crossed wrists deflected the hit as she remained still. Zechs had been right in a great deal of what he said. Attacking Quatre right now, even to treat him, could be disastrous. While Quatre and his people thought themselves civilized, Sally knew that the Abydians' thought them no more than dirt scrabbling savages. She had to wonder if the blonde's people thought the same of the Abydians.
She winced as the boy jerked from under her hand and snarled like a caged animal, taking a good snap at her with his teeth in the process. Natural quickness formed in battle saved her from a nasty bite. As he slunk away from her, she sighed and studied the frail seeming blonde. The cuffs about his wrists were made not to cut or chafe under normal circumstances, but normal circumstances did not include repeated pulling on them until the skin was rubbed raw and bleeding. They might have to be removed or at least the one on his right wrist to treat the wounds. A few cuts and bruises flecked the boy's pale skin from where Heero had attempted to get a hold on the slave before he was kicked or hit away. Regardless of how little he looked, from what Sally had seen this morning, he had a hellacious hit and kick. It was for that reason that she didn't pursue him right off as Quatre slunk as far from her as he could and the chain would allow. He'd taken Heero's bedding and made himself a loose covering, something he shivered in now as he crouched on the floor. Sally heart sunk at that. The room and entire fortress was warm right now, that shaking meaning that he was most likely sick.
"Noin, bring me some of the stew left over from breakfast," Sally murmured as she pushed aside the thick curtain that served as Heero's bedroom door.
Noin blinked in surprise up at the red-haired woman, setting aside the dishes she was cleaning. "Mistress Sally, Master Zechs said…"
"I know he did, Noin, but he didn't know the boy was sick and neither did Heero."
Distress shown on the slavegirl's face, a mirror of Sally's own, as she hurried to get a bowl ready. Whatever he had might infect the entire tribe or even kill him. Not within a city, they depended on the herbs that they could gather from the land or trade for instead of the doctors that could be found elsewhere. Medical skills were more valuable than gold in times of sickness.
Sally turned back to Quatre, trying to understand what he was murmuring to himself. For the most part, it was senseless gibberish of whatever language he spoke. Little wonder one tribe often thought another was made up of savages with all the different dialects and languages they used. A few words she could pick out, recognizing them as her native Chinese. Switching to that language, she spoke gently to him, "My name is Sally. You are Quatre?"
The blonde's head snapped up as suspicious eyes regarded her, another tug on the chain given as if he thought it might miraculously stretch and give him more length to get away from her on.
Crouching down to be on the same level as he was, Sally slid a bit closer to him, wary enough still to get out of his reach if he attacked. Speaking Chinese after all this time felt strange to her, but if it got him to understand that no one was going to hurt him… "Please, Quatre let me see your hand. You're bleeding and look like you're coming down with something. I'm the healer around here, and I don't want you getting worse."
Straining his wrist at the end of his chain, Quatre frowned at her. While Wufei had taught him his language, it took time for him to translate everything she said. A healer? Why should they send a healer to see him? The name Sally brought back the memory of speaking to Wufei last night before bed. Had it just been last night when everything had been sane and right in his world? Had it been that short of a time ago when this nightmare hadn't existed? Stumbling over his words, he formed a reply, his pronunciation bad enough that Wufei would have winced, "I want go home. Now."
While the Chinese boy wasn't here, Sally did the wincing for him. So Chinese wasn't his first language. At least they could communicate. "You can't. Heero has claimed you, and only he can set you free if and when he chooses. Quatre, please, let me see your wrist and have a look at you."
Upset as he was, even Quatre knew that he wasn't going anywhere with the chain attached to him. Sighing, he extended his arm to the woman, watching her carefully. If this was the woman Wufei spoke of, then it looked as if she wasn't being held prisoner. Ice chip aquamarine eyes stayed on her face as she carefully took his hand in her own, touching gingerly where the metal met skin, sweeping aside the splattering of blood with her fingers. Nodding to herself, she barely looked up as yet another female came in, setting down a bowl of some soupy meat and vegetables. Quatre's stomache rumbled loudly at the hearty scent, even as he gave the olive skinned girl a dark look. Like him, she wore bands about her ankles and wrists, the strands of her raven's wing black-blue hair tied with threads of scarlet. Getting past two was going to be harder than one. The babbling guttural words Sally spoke to the girl were ignored. It was the raider's primitive, savage talk, not something he had the desire to try to understand.
Sally smiled faintly to Noin, relieved that the girl had brought not just food but a basin of water with clean cloths as well. "Can you get me my pouch too, Noin? In the heat, this might get infected quickly."
The mistake was made when she unlocked the chain from Quatre's cuff.
A hissing grasp escaped Heero as Quatre pulled harder on the chain, doing his damnest to strangle his captor. Snapping again at the hands trying to touch him, the boy kept silent. A twist of his body brought the sheet around Heero's legs as well. If he started to convulse in a death rattle, attention might be attracted by the noise. No one, but no one, took the son of a Winner and stupidly tried to subject them to bondage. Duo had taught him better than that. After he finished off this one, he could sneak out, grab a horse and return home… or die trying.
With black roses blooming before his eyes, Heero bucked, trying to throw off the blonde or at least rock him enough to get the chain loose. Dying in his own bed was not what he would have called a proper death. Luck was with him in that Quatre was so slender, muscle there but not enough to match him blow for blow. With the blonde falling off the side of the bed, Heero clawed the chain away from his throat, gulping in air greedily as he tried to get his unresponsive legs to support him. The myriad of stars suddenly clouding his vision was the next nasty surprise.
Quatre wrapped his hands together, fingers lacing through each other as if in prayer and swung at his captor's jaw this time. While he didn't overly like the bands surrounding his wrists, their metal weight created a good force of impact when struck alongside the Abydians' head the first time. A second blow would hopefully crack his skull open. No such luck it would appear as his hands connected again, nearly rolling the already stunned raider. Stopped by the pull of his chain from the wall, Quatre snarled to himself. Just another few inches, and he could wrap the length back around that bastard's throat!
Heero hacked, sounding like a sick dog as he tried to regain his feet once more. The entire room dipped and tilted on him, although he was now sure that he'd somehow nabbed a demon instead of a kawaii angel. Both knocks to his head had confirmed that thought. Trickles of warm blood slid down his cheeks in small threads, bringing him somewhat back to reality. The situation was out of control to say the least. If he didn't get that control back, then Quatre might very well kill him. If he died, there would be nothing stopping Zechs from slaughtering the boy. No slave killed a free person. Ever. "Damn it," he slurred out, making a wild grab for the blonde.
A sharp kick impacted with Heero's side, knocking the air back out of his starved lungs. Dropping to his knees, the Abydian was now sure of his earlier theory. A demon. Had to be. There was no other explanation. Another kick caught him square under the chin and across his shoulder, throwing him backwards. Cloth fluttered around him as he rolled back into a boneless heap, vaguely surprised to find he was staring up at Zechs and Noin, the latter looking as shocked as he felt. Well, would feel if he could get the cloudiness on his mind to break up.
Booming laughter filled the common room as Zechs took in the sight of a bloodied Heero tumbling backwards out of his own room. He'd heard the first stirrings from in there, having made sure he was up early enough to watch the show. Few people were ever happy to go to sleep free and wake up in slavery. He had doubted Quatre would be any different. As he'd seen last night when he'd asked to see the boy's hand, Zechs had realized Quatre was more than capable of holding his own from the muscles laying beneath that silky skin, not to mention the calluses that could only be caused from holding and using a weapon. Now as he watched one of his best warriors being kicked hind over head to his own feet, Zechs knew he'd been right. More laughter broke out from the other tribesmen and women seeing this. Some of them had already been in Heero's place.
Reaching down, Zechs took Heero's chin in his head, examining the bloody bruising wrapping across the warrior's throat. That was mildly alarming. The boy was willing to kill to get out. He would let Heero attempt to handle this, but if it went too far, he'd have to step in and kill the new slave most likely. "Chained him up right beside you and then fell asleep, didn't you?"
Heero managed a confused nod as he stumbled into a standing position, held up for a time by Zechs' grasp on his arm. His legs were just refusing to work properly, probably too many blows to his head. Getting himself shored up, Heero scowled, "Woke up, and he was choking me."
Zechs snickered softly, disguising his own misgivings still. If he let Heero know he believed this was a lost cause, the warrior might believe it himself. While that would have set Zechs' fears at ease, he needed Heero to realize it himself. "If you had suddenly been taken from all that you know and awoken to find yourself someone's bed toy, wouldn't you be a bit upset?"
"Well…"
"Well nothing. You're damn lucky he didn't kill you. At least your weapon wasn't near your bed, otherwise, you might have woken up in Allah's arms instead of here. What are you going to do now?"
Heero's dark gaze moved back to the now silent room that he'd just been literally tossed out of. How the Hell someone that small hit that damn hard was beyond him. His ears were going to be ringing for a week to come. He just looked so… small, not to mention that he was naked. Few people could fight unclothed. The gods only knew why, but having a person's clothing taken from them and left bare usually put them in a submissive position. Shaking his head to try to clear it, Heero stalked back towards it, determined to show who was in charge here.
It took exactly ten minute for him to be sprawled right back out at Zech's feet, bleeding worse than before. Staggering this time as Zechs and Alec helped him up, Heero blinked at them with a pair of nicely bruising eyes. "He got up on top the door ledge. Dropped right on me. How long is that damned chain?"
"It's only five feet," Alec managed to get out between snickers. "It's long enough for him to sleep comfortably, or so we thought. You better take a break, Hee-chan. He's going to kill you if you keep this up."
Zechs nodded as he took the stunned warrior's arm, leading him to the fire for breakfast. "Let him be for awhile and get hungry. He's locked down with nowhere he can go. Eventually, he'll get starved enough to listen or at least let you in, or he'll think things through and realize there's no way out but to settle down or be run through with a blade. We have things to do, Heero, and no time for a stubborn slave."
Numbly accepting the food sat before him, Heero put up with Sally Po starting to clean up his face. Her attempting to smother laughter brought a dark look from him. "What?"
"At least you know he's got good teeth. I see about seven imprints of them on your shoulders alone. I think the one might scar, and the other four need stitched," she replied, struggling to keep a straight face.
"I'd go in there and take a whip to him, Heero," spoke up a sullen voice from across the flames.
It was Une that faced him now, the woman's cold beauty nothing compared to the cruelty she'd shown to some of those below her in the past. She was the one person within the tribe that had no slaves of her own, not allowed them any longer because of her harshness to them. Never was she allowed to be alone with the tribe's workers either, the group knowing full well that she had the tendency to reach for the whip to solve any problems. The woman's slender shoulders rolled in a shrug as her gaze fixed him like a bug on a pin. "You let him think he's in control now, and you'll never get it back."
"Shut up, Une," Sally snapped, flicking a fingertip at Heero's already bruised nose to get his attention. "Heero, if you do that, you're just confirming every bad thought he's having right now."
"I agree," Zechs rumbled from beside him, eating his own breakfast as he fed Noin from his plate. "Never, ever pick up a weapon to strike at a slave because you're angry, regardless of what they do. You wouldn't take a strap to a child when upset with them, and you don't to a slave. Calm down first and think it over. You strike him one time in anger, and he will never forget it or forgive you. You'll end up with one like hers. Afraid of their own shadows and cowering from anyone who comes near them or so bloody rageful that you'll have to kill them just to be sure they won't kill you first. A slave is unarmed and weak. Warriors do not torture the weak and helpless just to have their wills imposed on them."
Une snorted as he ate her own food, openly giving Zechs a glare. She was a powerful warrioress in her own right, but respect of the tribe was something she would never gain. "They're adults, not children, Zechs. Coddling them gets nothing but weak flesh."
"Better than dead flesh, Une, and I would pit the worth of nearly any man against that of my Noin. She can haul as much water as any of them, can tend to any and all of our stock, and runs the household of our home with more efficiency than I have seen before. I do not call that weakness," Zechs replied, ignoring her for the most part as he turned away. The discussion was finished as far as he was concerned.
The woman shook her head and pointed at Heero. "Mark me, Heero. This disobedience will only get worse if you allow it. Eventually, it will progress to where you have to put him down if you let it. Then it will be your failing as a Master."
"Old cow," Sally muttered under her breath as Une stalked off to get her group together for scouting. "Jealous old cow at that. None that she ever brought back were as fine as Quatre or Noin."
Heero's thoughts whirled, the male still confused for the most part. Une had a point, as did Zechs. What if he was letting Quatre become something useless by catering to his whims instead of showing who was Master and who was slave? But what if he did strike the blonde and make him like the one ruined slave he had seen of Une's? Her last one, named Marlius, had been a frail looking brunette male, much like Quatre himself. The boy had skittered away from anyone who came close to him. If cornred, he would burst into tears and trying to cover himself as if to cushion blows he expected to be coming. Heero couldn't remember a day when he'd not seen a bruise on the slave. After two weeks of this, Zechs had taken the lad away and given him to another tribe that they dealt with. Last Heero had seen of Marlius, he'd been smiling and much stronger looking among the slaves of that group, but that fear still lingered in his eyes whenever a free person approached him. What if he scarred Quatre on the mental level permanently?
A heavy hand slapping his hurt shoulder jerked Heero out of those thoughts as if he'd had freezing water thrown on him. Zechs' cold blue eyes were regarding him as the man retracted his hand, dismissing Noin to go wash his plate up. With only himself, the Abydians chief, and Sally still left at the fire, Heero found nothing distracting that could pull him out from under that intense study. A fingertip of Zechs' rose to nearly touch the tip of Heero's nose, the leader's gaze never wavering from his own. "Listen to me, Heero, and listen well. If I see you pick up a whip to go in there after him, I will use my right and take him from you. Don't, Heero. Some birds are just too beautiful to be caged and some animals just too wild. He might be one of those. If he is, then… well, we'll decide that when we come to it. Beating him isn't going to bring him any closer to you, nor will I see anyone made as Noin was when we first found her. What one person can do with a single strike, it will take months or years for another to undo. Cruelty isn't something any man, woman, child, or animal responds to well or forgets easily.
"I'll send Sally in there later to check and make sure he hasn't hurt himself after she finishes looking at you, but no one is going to feed him but you. When he gets hungry, he might settle down some. Right now, he's in a strange place with strange people and frightened out of his mind. When I first brought Noin back here, she nearly broke my jaw when she first came to. You wouldn't think a woman that small could hit that hard, but she knocked me unconscious because I wasn't expecting it. It took three days for me to get close enough to touch her. Another five months passed before I could be in the same room alone with her and she wouldn't try to hide in a corner. A full year passed before I bedded her. It was all because a foolish git thought that the best way to make a proud and strong woman weak was to beat her senseless when he thought she required it. I don't need or want another slave, but before I let another be set into the mold that Noin was, I will take him, Heero. It'll hurt me to see you unable to handle him yourself, but I will do it. Hold no doubts about that."
A slow nod answered Zechs as Heero glanced towards his sleeping quarters. It was dead silent in there, Quatre perhaps waiting for him to attempt to re-enter. Sighing to himself, he felt foolish for his momentary anger that made him want to seize the nearest weapon and take it to Quatre. Shame flushed his cheeks, something he knew that Zechs saw, and something he wanted to hide. He felt like a child that had been trying to train a puppy to sit that wouldn't listen and reacted with those same childish instincts. The gentler slap of Zechs' hand on his shoulder told him that all was forgiven as the tribal leader went to tend to his own duties. Sally's gentle gaze was all he met when he finally lifted his head. "It's so easy, isn't it?"
"What is?" she questioned softly, finishing her ministrations to his throat.
"It's so easy to forget that it's a person you're dealing with. Easy to not remember that it's a living, feeling, breathing person instead of a piece of wood."
Sally smiled gently as she ruffled his hair. "Yes, it is, but knowing that fact and remembering it even when you want nothing worse than to strike out will do you and him a world of good."
Nodding softly, Heero rose to his feet and slipped out of the cave, wanting to get his own work finished as soon as possible and back to what really concerned him.
***
The gentle hand that had touched Heero's head nearly half an hour ago slid through the spun gold locks of Quatre's own hair as Sally Po gazed down at the sleeping boy. Unlike Heero, she was prepared for the upwards swing of the Arabian's twined hands for the point of her chin. Her own crossed wrists deflected the hit as she remained still. Zechs had been right in a great deal of what he said. Attacking Quatre right now, even to treat him, could be disastrous. While Quatre and his people thought themselves civilized, Sally knew that the Abydians' thought them no more than dirt scrabbling savages. She had to wonder if the blonde's people thought the same of the Abydians.
She winced as the boy jerked from under her hand and snarled like a caged animal, taking a good snap at her with his teeth in the process. Natural quickness formed in battle saved her from a nasty bite. As he slunk away from her, she sighed and studied the frail seeming blonde. The cuffs about his wrists were made not to cut or chafe under normal circumstances, but normal circumstances did not include repeated pulling on them until the skin was rubbed raw and bleeding. They might have to be removed or at least the one on his right wrist to treat the wounds. A few cuts and bruises flecked the boy's pale skin from where Heero had attempted to get a hold on the slave before he was kicked or hit away. Regardless of how little he looked, from what Sally had seen this morning, he had a hellacious hit and kick. It was for that reason that she didn't pursue him right off as Quatre slunk as far from her as he could and the chain would allow. He'd taken Heero's bedding and made himself a loose covering, something he shivered in now as he crouched on the floor. Sally heart sunk at that. The room and entire fortress was warm right now, that shaking meaning that he was most likely sick.
"Noin, bring me some of the stew left over from breakfast," Sally murmured as she pushed aside the thick curtain that served as Heero's bedroom door.
Noin blinked in surprise up at the red-haired woman, setting aside the dishes she was cleaning. "Mistress Sally, Master Zechs said…"
"I know he did, Noin, but he didn't know the boy was sick and neither did Heero."
Distress shown on the slavegirl's face, a mirror of Sally's own, as she hurried to get a bowl ready. Whatever he had might infect the entire tribe or even kill him. Not within a city, they depended on the herbs that they could gather from the land or trade for instead of the doctors that could be found elsewhere. Medical skills were more valuable than gold in times of sickness.
Sally turned back to Quatre, trying to understand what he was murmuring to himself. For the most part, it was senseless gibberish of whatever language he spoke. Little wonder one tribe often thought another was made up of savages with all the different dialects and languages they used. A few words she could pick out, recognizing them as her native Chinese. Switching to that language, she spoke gently to him, "My name is Sally. You are Quatre?"
The blonde's head snapped up as suspicious eyes regarded her, another tug on the chain given as if he thought it might miraculously stretch and give him more length to get away from her on.
Crouching down to be on the same level as he was, Sally slid a bit closer to him, wary enough still to get out of his reach if he attacked. Speaking Chinese after all this time felt strange to her, but if it got him to understand that no one was going to hurt him… "Please, Quatre let me see your hand. You're bleeding and look like you're coming down with something. I'm the healer around here, and I don't want you getting worse."
Straining his wrist at the end of his chain, Quatre frowned at her. While Wufei had taught him his language, it took time for him to translate everything she said. A healer? Why should they send a healer to see him? The name Sally brought back the memory of speaking to Wufei last night before bed. Had it just been last night when everything had been sane and right in his world? Had it been that short of a time ago when this nightmare hadn't existed? Stumbling over his words, he formed a reply, his pronunciation bad enough that Wufei would have winced, "I want go home. Now."
While the Chinese boy wasn't here, Sally did the wincing for him. So Chinese wasn't his first language. At least they could communicate. "You can't. Heero has claimed you, and only he can set you free if and when he chooses. Quatre, please, let me see your wrist and have a look at you."
Upset as he was, even Quatre knew that he wasn't going anywhere with the chain attached to him. Sighing, he extended his arm to the woman, watching her carefully. If this was the woman Wufei spoke of, then it looked as if she wasn't being held prisoner. Ice chip aquamarine eyes stayed on her face as she carefully took his hand in her own, touching gingerly where the metal met skin, sweeping aside the splattering of blood with her fingers. Nodding to herself, she barely looked up as yet another female came in, setting down a bowl of some soupy meat and vegetables. Quatre's stomache rumbled loudly at the hearty scent, even as he gave the olive skinned girl a dark look. Like him, she wore bands about her ankles and wrists, the strands of her raven's wing black-blue hair tied with threads of scarlet. Getting past two was going to be harder than one. The babbling guttural words Sally spoke to the girl were ignored. It was the raider's primitive, savage talk, not something he had the desire to try to understand.
Sally smiled faintly to Noin, relieved that the girl had brought not just food but a basin of water with clean cloths as well. "Can you get me my pouch too, Noin? In the heat, this might get infected quickly."
The mistake was made when she unlocked the chain from Quatre's cuff.