Disclaimer: I don't own this wonderful world. I only own the lowly subcharacters.
68. Lightning
It was day 163. The snow had been falling constantly for two days, burying the town under several inches of the powder. The horses were harder to take care of, especially the stallions. As long as Edmund transported the mares together, they would huddle up and follow him willingly. The foals were more or less the same, though they had never seen snow or felt such cold before and were much more apprehensive about their surroundings. The stallions were a completely different story. Most went outside willingly, almost eagerly. They would romp in the fresh snow and ignore Edmund for the most part. Some of the stallions, however, hated the weather and would refuse to go outside. With one such horse, a blue roan, it would take up to twenty minutes of pulling, coaxing, tempting with feed, and a good slap on the rump or two before he would leave the barn, and just as long with the same routine before he would get far enough into the gate of his pasture before Edmund could close him in.
By the time Edmund would get inside, he would be soaked and frozen stiff. Asha was quick to hang his clothes in front of the fire and give him a warm set, but it couldn't keep the chill from reaching his very bones and make him shiver for a good hour before finally warming up. Edmund had never been fond of winter, even as a child. After dealing with Jadis' form of cold and feeling it so deeply for so long, he had grown to loathe the season. He was more susceptible to the cold temperatures than most people he knew, and usually on the worst days he would have his siblings to snuggle up to and plenty of thick, hot blankets to wrap up in. But not here. Here, he has no one who would rub his arms and kiss his forehead. Here, he was given only two blankets to stave off the cold and only his own body heat to warm those up. Here, the cold felt so much worse.
It wasn't until five days after the snow had started that it slowed to a stop. Edmund had to wade through nearly two feet of snow and ice to get to the horses in the morning, though by dusk the ice had melted for the most part and Edmund only had the snow to deal with. The cold had begun to stick with him, even through the warm clothes and blankets, to the point where nothing could shake it and he was constantly shivering. It gave him quite a bit more grief than usual with Mahir, as well. Guests were starting to become a regular thing, coming every two to three days. Luckily no one had been sold, and Edmund was happy about that, but when he shivered while setting the table and made the china clink together, causing a glance from a guest or two each time, Mahir would grow red in the face and give him an extra few minutes of beating for each time it had happened.
Even when Edmund wasn't shaking like there was an earthquake, he was in pain. His left shoulder, the one that had been dislocated three times over, had grown weak and sensitive due to the amount of misuse and no cordial to heal it properly. The cold made his shoulder ache, sometimes badly enough that he could only use one arm when leading the horses out or washing the dishes. Mahir, apparently noticing his weakness and not wanting to permanently damage his slave, made a point to avoid his shoulder when he was hitting Edmund, but it didn't help much. Simply turning too quickly or stumbling from being hit would send sparks of pain up and down his arm and neck, making him wince. He knew that couldn't be a good sign, but he didn't have the time or means to care, let alone do anything about it.
On day 171, Edmund's shoulder was doing a bit better and he was able to stave off the shivering enough that the plates didn't make any noise when he set the table. He had to put out two extra place settings for a pair of noble-looking Calormene men. One was old and beginning to gray while the other looked as though he was just reaching his twenties. They reminded Edmund greatly of the men he had heard mocking Peter in the marketplace, and he had to bite his tongue to the point where it bled to keep himself from saying or doing anything stupid. He stayed as far away from them as he could while they visited, not caring to hear what they had to say or why they were hanging around. It wasn't until after Edmund had put the horses away and gone up to bed that he regretted doing so.
Mahir and Asha led the men upstairs to see the slaves, as they had done with every set of guests that came by. This time, however, the men looked interested in the people that were ready to doze off for the night. They were particularly interested in the girls, it seemed, and when they whispered a question to Mahir, he led them straight to Hanah. He explained that she was the miracle girl who tended to the horses. The three men haggled over her as she watched on, sickly pale and glancing at the others as they talked. Eventually they settled on a price, eight hundred and fifty crescents, and Hanah was led away. Once all of them had filtered out of the room, Basam blinked and looked over at Nash.
"Eight hundred and fifty crescents? They must be joking." Basam was shaking his head and staring at his hand, as though trying to figure out what that much money would look like.
"I've never seen one sell for that much," Nash admitted. "But you can't deny that she's got talent, and they probably sold her horse with her."
"I didn't think about the horse," Basam admitted. He stood up and went over to the window, peeking out at the barn that was just in view. "You're right, they're leading the mare out. Well, I'm glad those two won't be separated, anyway. I wonder how much they paid for Hanah individually?"
"No idea, but probably a lot."
Edmund looked over at the two girls who were left. Both had been extremely quiet, and he was worried. Jenae had a habit of bonding with the girls far too much to be safe, and though she and Hanah had never been very close, she had taken a certain liking to her after Lamis and Calla were gone. Now, she looked completely shattered with a small Nasrin patting her back and whispering something in her ear. Edmund could only hope that Jenae sold before little Nasrin. He didn't want to see what would happen to her if she was the last girl left.
Luckily, no one had to see that happen. Three days after Hanah had been sold, 174 days into Edmund's capture, the largest group of guests to enter the house yet entered the house. Edmund set up six extra place settings, wondering how many slaves this batch would purchase. He snuck a peek as the large group filtered in. A middle-aged man and his equally-aged wife came in first, followed by four young girls. The oldest looked to be just a shade under her teen years and she was followed by three mini versions of herself, fraternal triplets about seven years of age from what Edmund could see. He couldn't help but smile a bit at how happy they looked and how the girls giggled at every little thing. They seemed to be especially fond of anything that was pink or purple, and all through dinner they made quite a loud fuss about how beautiful the flower paintings Asha owned were. No matter where he was, Edmund could hear the girls' adorable squeals of laughter. For being the daughters of a Calormene man who was probably looking to purchase some abused, terrorized slaves, they were quite a cute bunch. Even as Edmund tended to the horses outside, he could hear the girls bouncing around and playing in the parlor.
As usual, about fifteen minutes after Edmund had gotten upstairs and into bed, the large family was escorted up the stairs to visit the slaves. Edmund had assumed that the girls would wait in the hallway as their father picked out whom he would purchase, but that wasn't the case at all. Instead, when the door opened, the girls were standing at the front and looking rather excited. They looked up at their father, and when he smiled and nodded, the four girls rushed into the room, a ball of laughter.
The slaves watched on, quite confused, as they spread out, each one looking at a slave by themselves until they had all inspected every one. They gathered in a corner of the room and tried to whisper among themselves (though they failed quite splendidly and their entire conversation could be heard throughout the house) as to which one they liked best. Jenae sat up a bit straighter when it became quite obvious that they had all taken to her, and she smiled for the first time in over a month when the triplets tackled and hugged her. The eldest stood off just a ways and smiled, but it was fairly obvious that she wanted to join in the pile as well, and with a gentle nudge from her mother who had just walked in, she too hugged her new nanny.
It was the first time Edmund had seen a slave be taken away not only willingly but happily. With a quick, silent goodbye to Nasrin and a wave to the boys, Jenae raced the four girls out to the cart, losing to the triplets and tying with the elder. The four remaining slaves watched out the window in stunned silence as she was taken away. They could see her snuggling with one triplet while the other two were taught how to properly braid Jenae's hair by their older sister. It was a sight none of them had seen before and were sure they would never see again.
Utterly confused and rather uplifted by the joyful visit, the group was taken completely by surprise when another family, this one consisting of a father, mother, and son, came to visit the next day. The process went as it always did, though this group was far less perky than the last. The son was young, not even ten years old, but appeared to take after his father quite well. He was very stiff and silent, observing his surroundings with a careful expression. Edmund thought he would make a good soldier one day. When the family came upstairs, the father and son went from slave to slave, hovering with the boys and generally ignoring Nasrin. They stuck with Nash for the longest, but when Mahir told them he wasn't yet for sale, they moved on. When they shoved Edmund's shoulder too hard and he winced, they frowned and looked over at Mahir. They seemed to relax a bit when he admitted that that one also wasn't up for sale yet, and relaxed more when they found themselves quite pleased with Basam. Hardly a word was said between the adults as Basam was taken away, and not a word was spoken as Nash and Edmund watched him be carted off into the distance.
"Now what happens?" Edmund whispered once Basam was out of sight.
"Now we have the house to ourselves." Nasrin looked up when Nash spoke. "It's why Mahir waits until winter to sell us. There's not much to do except for tend to the house and horses and there won't be until the spring thaw. That's when he'll buy more slaves, when there's stuff worth doing around here."
Nash, it turned out, was quite right. Even with all of his household chores, Edmund finished them fairly quickly and it was quite common to find him wandering the hallways looking for something to do. Eventually he sucked up his fear of the cold and spent his vacant afternoons with the horses. He would always come inside with blue lips and shiver for an hour or more before finally warming up, but he figured it was worth it. He was making great progress with Kamal, and that in itself made up for the cold. Nowadays, whenever the black stallion saw him, his ears would perk up a bit and he would take a few steps toward Edmund. When Edmund approached him, he wouldn't come closer, but he wouldn't back away either. It wouldn't be long before he allowed his caretaker to saddle, and maybe one day, ride him. Edmund missed riding a lot, and if he ever toughened up like Nash said he would, he would have to ask Mahir if he could ride one of the horses one day.
Apparently, staying out in the cold wasn't the best idea Edmund had ever had. On day 185, Edmund found himself sick. Body aches, a headache, and a cough plagued him severely. At first, he shrugged it off as a simple cold. When the fever began to set in, however, he thought that perhaps it was worse than that. He tried to do his chores as best as he could, but that didn't last long. Two days after getting sick, Edmund was washing the dishes, or, attempting to, when he found himself lying on the floor. Wondering how he had gotten there, he struggled to get up, but to no avail. His muscles ached too badly to use, and he was racked with chills. He lay on the freezing floor for a good half hour before Asha found him. She struggled to help him up the stairs and helped him crawl into bed. Suddenly exhausted, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.
For the next two days, he found himself slipping in and out of consciousness. When he was awake, he would often find himself staring deliriously into an empty room, rotating between waves of freezing and burning. Every now and again, though, he would wake to see Nash tending to him. Nash was always talking to him, whether he was aware of Edmund watching him or not. He would tell him what had happened during the day and how worried he and the girls were. He said that Asha would check on him frequently, giving him any remedy she could think of. His fever was high, Nash said, and if it didn't go down within another couple of days, Asha would send for a Healer.
One day, day 189 as Edmund found out later, he woke once again to Nash telling him about the day. There were guests again, three of them. He hadn't seen them for himself yet, but with how much of a fuss Asha and Mahir were making, he could only assume that they were very, very rich. He figured they had gotten wind that one slave was left and wanted to claim her before anyone else did, though why they would come for an eleven year old rather than someone older and more experienced Nash could only guess. As Nash talked, Edmund once again slipped into the wonderful world of unconsciousness.
When he woke, it was dark out, and Nash and Nasrin were in their beds. Through the haze, Edmund could hear footsteps coming up the corridor. He shifted and frowned a bit, sending Nash running for his charge. He felt his friend stroke some hair away from his forehead and gently place his hand on Edmund's flushed skin, biting his lip a bit at how hot it was. He watched as Nash looked up at the door, which had just opened, nervously, but didn't dare follow his gaze.
"Emad, someone has come for you." Mahir's all-too-familiar seller line echoed through the room.
Despite the pain it caused him, Edmund stiffened. If his skin hadn't already been chalk white, he would have paled. He clung to Nash's sleeve weakly, squeezing his eyes shut and whimpering. He didn't want to go. He couldn't be sold. He just couldn't. Who would want him when he was so sick and weak? He hadn't even been here a full six months yet, let alone the general year and a half. He whimpered weakly when Nash didn't defend him. Instead, he seemed to almost let Edmund go.
"These people have come for you. You'll go home with them tonight." Edmund squirmed a bit, silently begging Nash to say something, to save him.
"Edmund?" The pained, nearly silent voice struck Edmund like lightning. He froze in shock, blinking before slowly turning his head to see who had called for him. When he saw his sisters in the doorway and his brother rushing for him, tears streaming down his white cheeks, he did the only sensible thing he could think of that his flu-ravaged body would allow. He passed out.
