Читать книгу The Raven's Warrior - Vincent Pratchett - Страница 26

By Sea And By Land

That night as I lay quietly in my bed I continued to rake through my pained memories.

I was cast into the dark hole of their long ship and did not need to be tied for, indeed, I could barely move. By oar to ocean the dragon boats raced, and once there the large mainsail was set, and we were driven only by wind and current. The movement of the ship made me sick beyond measure, and so I lay, in blood, in vomit, and in my own excrement. At first I knew not speed or direction, but by the gathering coldness and the shadows of the sun, I realized we moved northward and to the east. Rough bread was sometimes thrown my way, for even some of these men could still feel pity.

I watched and listened to them daily, to know if I was to be fed or beaten. I got to know their habits and routines, and at times they seemed almost like normal men. They worshiped their gods, ate their food, and drank as my people did. I remembered my mother and wondered if she had faced a similar fate so many years ago, and I hated them with all the power of my immortal soul.

Insects that thought to feed on me were quickly eaten by me, and occasionally a careless rat would find its way by my mouth to my stomach. I bound my wounds with rags found jammed between the planks of the hull, for I cared little if we sank or floated. I watched daily as my captors, men of great girth, little morals, and no fear, danced across the mighty ocean. I had been forsaken by God and prayed only for Death, but even his comfort would not be extended. Here in the cold blackness of my floating prison I knew that all had turned against me, and yet I still lived.

Time passed and ocean became river and direction changed to southward. They carried me to the deck where I saw banks of green and trees of great size and number. I knew we had traveled far, for here and southward the ones we called Viken and Norse were now called the Rus. The great river was named Volga, and it cut through the lands that these wild men called the land of the Slavs, and this vast region was where they hunted freely.

Sometimes we stopped traveling long enough for some of the Viken to run inland, only to return with women taken by force and held like me. At night I would hear the cries of the women as these fur-clad animals raped and violated them in unimagined ways. Some women chose death, but most were carefully bound because these, both fair and homely would fetch them silver coin, and I thought once more about the fate of my mother.

Scraps of food continued to come my way, and blood seeped darkly from my filthy wounds. All along the well-worn route my jailors traded. I saw furs for amber, and silver for the living. New supplies were taken on, and new women were captured. I wondered if they pillaged from whom they traded, selling them back what they had stolen. At places along the river the ship was pulled by rope and pushed by oar, until at last we reached a port called Astrakhan that opened to a huge sea. Here new supplies were taken on and stock replenished. For three days we remained, their mood was joyous for the river was now behind us, and sail would be set once more to cross the sea before us.

Green forest and stark mountain had yielded to sea and sand, and the icy cold had been replaced by scorching heat. On this Khazar Ocean we sailed without incident. The crossing was slow, for here blew only inland winds and not the gales of mighty oceans. I could taste the mist and knew that this inland sea was salted water, and not fresh like the lakes of my world. For two moon cycles we sailed southward until at last we reached another port, and leaving the ship we continued over sand by foot and beast. We traveled now with a desert brown people who on the surface seemed a cleaner race, much less barbaric than the Norse.

The long journey ended much to the south in a kingdom of great wonder. Ironically, it was this flourishing people who had a boundless appetite for slave girls of white skin and fair hair. These great people were the driving force behind this human trade. The trappings of civilization meant nothing, and may God swiftly judge them all.

Amid the sprawling city they called Baghdad, I was placed for sale. My poor condition coupled with the festering wound brought little interest from serious buyers, and I feared I would end as a one-armed eunuch amid a snow-white harem. Finally I was sold, only to be dragged eastward further through sand and heat to a place unknown.

I fetched only a few dinars, and was overcome with joy to know that for all their trouble I had profited the Norsemen little. Few felt I would survive the desert journey, and with so little paid there was little to be lost, and this was my victory. Pulled by chain across the dunes, I felt the constant presence of Death high above my shoulder, but I cared not for my life and so was bound by nothing. In fever I was free and swore that whatever would come I would peacefully embrace.

I pulled myself back from dark recollection and came back to my simple room. Since that time my agony has faded, and I am safe for now with Merlin and his daughter. I give profound thanks for my simple comforts and my fortune. Death had let me be. Instead of freedom from life, he had given me freedom in it.

With this thought I felt hope, and passed gently into sleep.