Children Born in Chains

Chapter 2

By: Soniclover28

"We near the gates! Once in the city we shall make camp and rest. Slaves! Faster!"

The great white wolf's growl could be heard all throughout the dry forests around the pack of slaves and masters and salesmen. Every slave flinched from the noise, and the carts noticeably picked up a bit more speed.

Younger sat up a bit to look over the other children slaves' heads to see the cart behind them. The one his two older brothers were pulling. They were both straining, their eyes fixed on the ground before them, focusing only on carrying the weight of the cargo they had to transport.

Younger's chocolate brown eyes wandered sadly to his little brother, who sat chained to a notch in the cart, just like all the other slaves. Every slave was only allowed a foot of reach before their chains ran out slack. The purple-clad turtle couldn't even get to Youngest, who was suffering silently halfway inside his shell. The clasps around his wrists wouldn't allow him to pull his hands inside his shell.

Youngest was still wincing and softly crying out whenever the cart would hit a knot in the worn path of the forest floor.

Younger's heart ached for the freckled turtle. The least he could do was meet his brother's eyes before he sucked himself back into his shell.

Younger sighed and turned his chocolate irises upwards. There were clouds in the sky—grey clouds—and Younger figured that it would rain. He'd never been wrong about the weather. After a few years of studying the signs of rain, Younger could easily tell when and how and how long it was going to rain.

The group of slaves and slave traders were headed for a city—a very rich and good city—though Younger never caught wind of the name.

A guard started walking down the line of carts—one that Younger recognized. The male cheetah was holding a large pot of something and passing portions of it to the other slaves. When the cheetah came to the children's cart, he started passing out strawberries and raspberries to the kid slaves. He gave a small smile as Younger took the fruit from him.

Younger gave a nod of appreciation.

This was one of the kinder guards. He was Younger's favorite. The purple-clad turtle had even learned his name—Anax. Anax wore a slightly better uniform than the other guards, and was even treated with very much respect—even from Owner.

Anax tried to coax Youngest to eat some fruit, and, finally, the freckled turtle came out of his shell and took the food. The cheetah smiled, satisfied, and moved on to the other children.

Younger finished his fruit somewhat happily—even licked his fingers clean.

A thought suddenly occurred to Younger, and he looked over the children's heads again to check on his two older siblings. They hadn't received fruit. It didn't look like they were going to, either.

Younger suddenly felt greedy for licking his fingers.

They'd made it into the city. They'd been unchained and then chained again, but this time to each other in groups of six. Younger and his brothers and a pair of twin geckos were all chained in a line.

Oldest was in front, with Older right behind him. Younger was next and then came Youngest. The two geckos fell right behind the freckled turtle. The clasps around the reptiles' necks bit and irritated their skin, and the heat from the day wasn't helping their case one bit.

It was multiplied by the fact that the slaves hadn't had water since sunrise, and it was well into the afternoon.

Owner had finally found a place to set up camp, and the chained slaves were sent to their tents—still in lines—to rest for the night before the auction.

Ah, yes—the auction—the real reason they were in the city in the first place.

In most cases, the slaves would be thrilled at the thought of finally being free of Owner's control. But for siblings, like the twin geckos and the very four turtles themselves, there was always the chance of being separated. Of one being sold and the other three not. Of two being sold and then one being sold again. Of just being split up from their little family of brothers.

Younger stood quietly inside their tent as the maid from breakfast set up six bowls of water in their tent. She gave them a nod and turned to leave without a word.

Younger knew that sign—there was a guard outside. Twelve years of being a slave also meant twelve years to learn 'the rules.' Slaves weren't allowed to speak with each other unless instructed to, but that was rare, and most slaves never speak to other slaves their entire lives.

Or, at least, that's what the mammals thought.

Similar to a school with the rule of no chewing gum, slaves learned to sneak in conversations when guards weren't around. And if they were, body language would speak for them.

So when the maiden lizard did what seemed like a simple nod of the head, she was actually saying 'Do not speak.' And when she paused just before leaving the tent, she was actually saying 'The guard is leaving now'. And when she whispered something under her breath, she was actually saying 'Goodnight'.

The six reptilian slaves sat down and drank their water, and then huddled together and prepared to rest for the night.

"Youngest," Oldest whispered.

"Yes, brother?" Youngest replied from his position against Younger.

"Are you well?"

"…"

"Youngest."

"I will be when I am sold tomorrow," Youngest whispered so softly, that even Younger had trouble hearing him.

"Youngest you do not mean-" Younger started.

"He does."

The four brothers' gazes swept to the twin lizards. The only difference between the two brothers was the pieces of cloth around their necks, crushed under the metal clasps, and the color of their eyes. The one that had spoken had lime green eyes, while the other had piercing, bright blue eyes.

"He has told us, as well. We are to be sold separately tomorrow. The only way we are to be together is if the same buyer will take us," The lizard with blue eyes whimpered.

"Youngest, when were you told?" Older demanded.

Youngest only shook his head and buried his head in his hands. "I was told this morning before the carts set off," He said, and Younger could see tears glistening in his baby blue eyes when he lifted his head up again. "Owner has grown bored of me."

At this, the freckled turtle burst into silent tears. The six brothers, though two of them only acquaintances, buried Youngest into a hug, and the four turtles present all cried themselves to sleep.

What youngest had told them only meant one thing:

When Owner grows 'bored' with his slaves, he simply sales them off to someone else—usually to a buyer he meets up with before the auction. And because Owner has used his slaves so much, and because the ones he keeps personal are usually too damaged for many peoples' liking, Owner knows that he most likely won't get anyone to buy said slaves.

So when Owner goes to the auction tomorrow and finds the person he's going to sell his personal slave to…

…Youngest will be killed.

Me:
Yes, I know that that was incredibly short, but I really wanted to let you guys know that- *Checks pulse* -I am not dead ^^;

See you in the next chap!