CHAPTER 3: Sincerest Apologies
SIR OLIVER
The girl seemed terrified. Sir Oliver did want to intimidate her, but not like this. The girl had shoved him with such force, though... Sir Oliver was regarded by many to be tall, broad-shouldered. Such a bear of a man should never have been toppled by a young girl. She must have the... No, she could not harness the power of Osha without training. Sir Oliver bounced the idea around in his head. She could not.
"Please, I very sorry," the girl pled. Her dark skin and broken Native tongue gave Sir Oliver the impression that she had come from the outer lands, one of the Hells. "Please do not kill me," she begged.
"Why did you steal?" Sir Oliver asked.
The girl shuddered. "I..." she started.
"Shitbag!" said a phlegmy voice from over the hill. Sir Oliver turned to attribute it to a chubby, greasy goblin of a man trudging their way. Rather, a goblin would have been more charismatic. "Shitbag!" the man said again. "What have you done?"
"Is the girl yours?" Sir Oliver asked the man.
"My humblest apologies, good sir," he said, getting in the girl's face. "What have you done?"
The girl was slow to reply, but when she did, she said, "We were hungry. Starving. I stole."
The ugly man spit in anger. "You stole from this good man?! This... who are you, sir?"
Sir Oliver did not want to give his real name. No more misconstrued ballads. "I am Duncan Fields," he replied. "From the Yellow Country."
The ugly man did not seem to believe him, but said anyway, "Donn Raster, of Denk. I cannot apologize enough for the Shitbag's actions, good sir. She will be thoroughly whipped, I promise you. She has given back what she stole, yes?"
Sir Oliver hated this man already. "Yes, she did. There is no need to whip her. She learned her lesson."
"Aye," Raster said. "But where's the fun in that?" He grinned and grabbed the girl forcibly by the arm, dragging her to his cart that he had parked back by the road.
"You left your bucket behind," Raster teased the girl, shoving the bucket into her hand. He turned back to Sir Oliver only to say, "Merry day to you, Lord Fields."
Sir Oliver watched with a budding anxiety. The girl... he contemplated, she has Osha's will in her. She ran like a doe, fought like a... like a lion.
"Raster!" Oliver yelled. The slave owner turned to look at him. Oliver jogged up to them.
"I will give you three shillings for the slave," he offered.
Raster was shocked. "What? Her? The thief?"
"Three shillings. I need a slave. Will that cover her?"
This pig of a man was about to swindle Sir Oliver, but he did not care. Raster replied, "Five shillings."
Sir Oliver did not have much coin left, but... she fought like a lion. "Five shillings, then."
Raster stared into the girl's eyes. There was a sexuality to it that Sir Oliver found unnerving.
"Hear that, Shitbag?" Raster coughed. "The man wants to whip ye himself."
He pushed her towards Sir Oliver and gave her a loud slap on the bottom. "Have fun with this one," he told the knight. "She's a fighter."
Sir Oliver gave Raster one last nod, but could not bring himself to look the pig in the eye.
The slave merchant stunted back towards his cart when a little boy emerged from it wailing, "NO! ARI! NO!"
"Dammit!" Raster yelled, chasing him, tripping in the grass as he did so. "Dammit! You little worm!"
"Ari!" the young boy begged. "Ari no go! No go!"
The girl looked at Sir Oliver, as if for permission. Sir Oliver nodded.
Ari then turned to the boy who was crying, tugging on her ragged smock. She embraced him tightly and softly spoke, "Do not cry, Zani. Be strong. Now you must be strong."
"Come here, you pig," Raster grumbled, grabbing Zani by the hair and pulling him away from Ari.
"No!" she screamed.
Sir Oliver felt helpless. Raster apologized, "Sorry again, good sir. The animals sometimes make friends with each other. Rather disgusting, ye know."
Ari watched her young friend get dragged away, crying. She turned to Sir Oliver, pleading, "Buy him. Buy."
Sir Oliver's mouth hung open, but he could not speak. He spent his last shilling on her.
Ari begged again, "Buy him!"
Raster pushed Zani towards the cart and the boy gloomily hopped in. The child stared at Ari as Raster made his way to the front, sat down and whipped the horses into a trot.
"Good day, Lord Duncan," he said as the cart bounced down the road and out of view.
Ari looked like she might cry. Sir Oliver was bloody with guilt, but he could not have bought the boy.
"I am sorry," he told her.
Ari gave him a look that was no longer fear, only anger. "You will be."
