Chapter Two
What the hell was that?
It didn't make any sense. Nothing like that had ever happened to him! But even now, in the middle of the night, the heat and grit of the stone block he'd knelt on still faintly burned his palms, and he could feel the press of that eager, sweaty hand closed about his ankle.
They were all strangers. I saw them so clearly, but I didn't know any of them.
Before, he'd had nightmares where people he knew were mean to him. People he cared about. That, he'd come to expect. People he cared about had hurt him all his life. Even Jounouchi had, without knowing it.
Jou would never understand if I told him why. He'd say I was just being…well…cruel. Teasing. Trying to bait him.
He doesn't know. How could he?
As long as I can keep it to myself, he'll never know.
It's better that way. He's happy now. Happier than he was a few months ago. And he's not kicking my ass every time I look sideways at his sister, at least.
But the matter of the nightmare transcended his own personal dilemmas. It wasn't pleasant, whatever it was. And he had no personal experience, movie, television, or otherwise, that could match up with that strange, exotic world.
It looked like a scene from Trigun. Sand and wind and heat…but there were no tall buildings, no glass windows. Just yellow stone saltbox cubes that looked like they'd cook their residents inside like an oven. Ancient. Even the wind felt old.
It has to be from a movie. I imagined it. That's all it was.
But surely he'd never watched a movie that portrayed child slavery, had he? And among other things, that was an aspect of the dream of which there was no doubt. The irons, the hoarse voice of the hawker, the eager buyers watching him on his platform…Honda stifled another shiver that came from deep within. Television never bugged me so bad, before. And I didn't use to have an imagination, past imagining seeing pretty girls naked…or, well…heh…
Otogi shifted beside him in the dark, and Honda froze. The soft crackling of the corn chips had long since stopped, and now, gentle snores issued from the other boy's sleeping bag. They were reassuring, as well as the kittenish sighs of Ryou, and Jounouchi's irrepressible mutterings about food. Yuugi was silent, but since Yami had left him, he was quiet much of the time, anyway.
I wish we knew where Yami was, Honda sighed, and turned over to tactfully avoid Otogi's chili-pepper breath spilling into his face. He could probably tell me what this is. He wasn't such a bad guy, really…
His last thoughts were of the pharaoh's spirit, before sleep captured him once again.
"What am I bid for this one? Young, strong, and strapping as an ox, for only sixteen!"
The audience clamored, and one of his 'attendants' hauled him rudely to his feet to turn him, yanking him away from the bastard who'd clamped onto his foot.
"Keep yer distance," The hulking brute of a man had said, as he clutched under Honda's arms and kicked at the assailant to force him back. It was the first time anyone had ever protected him here, and despite the fact that he knew he was only valuable merchandise to these men, it was still a touchstone in the madness to cling to.
Then the rest of the minutes passed by in a swirl of voices, until a hoarse shout of "Sold!" signalled the end of the tirade. A man in a pristine linen kilt and a glittering gold armband came to snap a new lead to his shackles and take him away.
"Where…?" Honda mumbled to himself in the reality of sleep, although he knew his captor wouldn't answer. Otogi stirred again, awakened by the sound of his friend's voice, and propped himself on one forearm, eyeing the other's slumbering form with misgiving.
Time passed. How could he dream of time passing? But he knew, by the hardening of his body, and the growth of ache of his feet and hands. In the service of the king, they said, the son of Ra. A proud station for an animal born of the desert. He felt the brown length of rope between his hands, and the sandy wind whipping his hair against his cheeks, and wasn't so sure.
"…No…"
Honda's hands twitched as he moaned distantly, and Otogi watched him, uncomprehending. What was wrong with his friend? God knew they were all allowed to have bad dreams, but…
"Honda?" He reached out, tentatively, and shook the other boy's shoulder. Honda bolted awake.
"I don't…want…eh? Oh, man…" One massive hand clamped over his eyes, and he groaned. "Not again." Hard labor. He'd dreamed of hard labor. Now he knew for certain that it wasn't a movie. No movie he'd ever seen had a premise like that!
"You all right, man? You were talking in your sleep…"
"What time is it?" Honda demanded. Otogi squinted at the clock on Yuugi's microwave. "Like…two in the morning…dude, was it you? Were you the one who yelled 'no' earlier?"
"Don't worry about it."
The boys stared at each other levelly.
Like hell I won't, said the green eyes.
Leave me alone, Honda's gaze retorted, silently.
Otogi's eyebrows rose.
Honda coughed. "Well, if it's all the same to you, I'm going back to sleep." He turned away from the other youth, scrooged down in his sleeping bag, and drew the cover up almost to his chin. Otogi eyed his 'cold shoulder' in disbelief. But there was no sense in arguing with someone's back.
"If you say so," he sighed, and pounded his pillow a little in frustration before dropping into it, facefirst.