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Disclaimer: Narnia belongs to Jack.
Chapter 3
Pericles walked about in a bad mood for the rest of the evening, taking his wrath out on footmen who had snuck away to the winery or were dozing off. As most in a position of authority, he found it easy to abuse his power, and on most occasions would have stopped himself, but he didn't put forth that effort tonight. Shameth's words buzzed around in his head, constantly reminding him of how unworthy he was for his dear Aoife.
For Shameth had been right about one thing; he was deeply in love with her, and had been ever since he was a little boy, before he even knew what it was like to be in love. It seemed that the two would always be together, and it would have remained that way if his father hadn't been executed.
The thought put him in another bad mood, one which he vented on a soldier who was so slovenly dressed and obviously drunk. He walked away shaking his head; banquets were usually more trouble than they were worth, an excuse to indulge oneself on Suruv Tarkaan's wine. Usually, only about ten percent of the guard managed to stay sober, increasing the chances for a riot or possibly an escape. Which reminded him, he probably should check on the Narnian.
He mounted his horse, who was usually rather shabby-looking but after being tended to at the Tarkaan's request he looked almost like the valiant steed he was supposed to be. The ride to the slave huts was a short one, and in no time, the captain was guiding his horse through the scattered dwellings. They were very simple; mud or clay, with thatched roofs, and all a little misshapen after the storms that had ripped through Calormen a few weeks ago. Tonight, most that weren't too tired from the day's work were patching up roofs or holes in the wall, or tending their own little vegetable gardens, or cooking their miserable little suppers. Most, at the sight of him, ran into their homes, or else stood still as statues. His heart went out to them, but he showed no signs of affection or friendliness; he had heard instances of guards and foremen who tried to be kind to the slaves, and ultimately had to deal with an unruly riot on their hands, or else went insane at sight of the abominable treatment the slaves had to suffer.
He continued on, and finally came to the last settlement, a structure in the making, with a small tent pitched to one side. This was the Narnian's new home, and Pericles was impressed with the progress he had already made on his clay hut. Borrowed utensils lay strewn about, ones that no doubt would be missing by morning; for things like that were coveted by many in the huts. Satisfied with what he saw, he continued across the fields to a dark, strongly built stone building, with small windows and only one door. This was where the disobedient ones were kept, with very little food and water, until the Tarkaan saw fit, which, in the Narnian's case, wouldn't be too long, for Suruv was anxious to start his training. Pericles dismounted and, taking the torch by the wall, unlocked the door and entered.
He wasn't sure why he went in, morbid curiosity possibly, and was satisfied to see a shackled, filthy, but still defiant young man sitting on the floor.
"Still here, then?" Pericles asked, but received nothing but a glare from the other. He matched the glare, determined to let this man know he was not afraid of him. Finally, the Narnian said,
"I remember you."
Pericles was taken aback, "What?" was all he could say.
"You and your father were in Beaversdam once. The faun I was with, he gave you an apple. He grew really wonderful apples, I remember. You weren't much older than me at the time."
Pericles said nothing, searching his mind for the memory. Galian continued, "You're not like the others."
"Excuse me?"
"You don't seem like the others. You're not as stiff or as grim as they. You could pass as a Narnian, in fact, if you weren't so dark."
Pericles wasn't sure what to say to that, and so he said nothing. "No," Galian continued, "you're not like them, and from what I've heard, you owe them nothing either. So why do you insist on keeping me here?"
Pericles laughed to himself. Of course, that had been the Narnian's game, flattery with hopes that Pericles would be soft enough to set him free. Shaking his head, he let the door slam behind him.
Can't blame a man for trying, he thought to himself