Chapter 2: Trial Of Combat

The journey back from the red waste was horrible. The small carriage that the boy and the other enslaved villagers traveled in was filled with feces, vomit, piss and every other kind of liquid that could be omitted from the human body. Many of the villagers had deep lacerations. Some had entire body parts cut off. One woman had an ear torn off, apparently being bitten off by a horse. Another woman was almost crippled in her right leg, only being held together by a thin piece of bone that somehow didn't snap.

The boy tried his best to stay away from these people, but there wasn't much room and his range of motion was limited. Since he was a young male, the slaver saw it fit to put chains on his ankles as well, just as an extra precaution. Not that the boy wanted to escape. Even with so much infection and disease surrounding him he knew that this was his best option. Risking illness was better than dying of starvation. The Dothraki would at least keep him fed, if only so that they could sell him later.

As the ride continued the situation inside the carriage worsened. The rough bumping of the carriage on the trodden dirt paths made many of the slaves vomit from motion sickness. Many of these people had never ridden a horse, much less been in a carriage. As the days went on and illness spread, slaves began dropping like flies. Out of the five hundred or so women and children that were captured, over twenty perished within the first day of travel.

The Dothraki didn't even bother to bury them. Their corpses were thrown off the carriages and abandoned in the middle of the road, food for the few animals that would find them. Not only did they carelessly abandon the dead, before they were thrown away they were stripped for the few pieces of ragged clothing they had. The Dothraki reused everything, not wasting a single resource they had available to them. 

This was an effective way of scaring the slaves into submission. Even though the boy's fears of death had settled down after the first day, many of the slaves were still trembling and quaking. They huddled together for comfort, sobbing into each other's arms with sad, depressive looks in their eyes. Ironically, this only increased the spread of disease. Close contact with other ill people rapidly sped up the death rate. Within one month over one hundred slaves died. One fifth of the slaves had died.

What was even worse was that the old Dothraki slaver noticed something was off with the boy. 

"You're a lot tougher than the other slaves."

It was just a simple comment. One that the unusually chatty Dothraki slaver would occasionally make, but he said this one with a violent smile. The boy didn't reply, choosing to blankly stare at him, but this seemed to be a mistake.

"Get up. I have a special use for you. Let's see if you're as strong as you look." The slaver released him from his chains and called for someone outside of the carriage. "Narak, I want you to test this boy. See if he's strong enough to be my bodyguard."

The boy's heart dropped as the Dothraki man named Narak approached the carriage. It had been a month but he had never forgot that man's face. "Narak", was the same man who threatened to rape him the very first day of his life as a slave. What made him panic even more was that Narak smiled when he saw the boy. For some reason, the Dothraki warrior bothered to remember his face.

"Didn't I tell you you'd be bouncing on my cock if you caused any trouble?" Narak grabbed the boy from his neck and pulled him out of the carriage with one hand.

The boy did his best to struggle his way out of Narak's grip but he wasn't strong enough to take his hand off his neck. Narak held him there, watching him with a sick sense of glee as the boy's air circulation began to fail. No matter how hard he kicked and pulled at Narak, the boy couldn't do anything to stop him. Narak tightened the pressure on his throat and the boy felt himself getting lightheaded. Wasn't the slaver going to say something?

He raised his arm in an attempt to call out for help and the slaver decided to pity him.

"Alright that's enough."

Narak finally let go at the slavers command and the boy fell to the ground. He glared at Narak from the ground as he gasped for air. Narak wasn't offended, keeping that same infuriating smirk that made the boy burn with anger. Narak jumped off his horse, making sure to land right on top of the boy's stomach.

"Haaa!" He only managed to make a heaving sound as he felt the air leave his lungs.

Narak stepped off of him, laughing as he did so. "Do you have a weapon for the little slut?"

The slaver gave Narak a strange look but didn't question him.

"Here. Make sure not to maim him. Even if he doesn't have any talent for combat a healthy slave like him is worth a lot."

The slaver moved his head out of the carriage and tossed an arakh to the boy's feet. It was dull, with a loose leather handle worn out from use. Attached to the weapon through a small hole was a closed loop, probably so it wouldn't leave the hand of whoever used it.

Narak spat at the boy's face as he reached for the arakh blade. "Get up boy. Show me what you can do. If you disappoint me I'll have you wiping my ass after every shit."

Just as the boy wiped away the spit from his face he heard a noise he hadn't heard since the day of the Dothraki raid.

[Trial Of Combat]

[Time Remaining: 5 Minutes]

[Mission: Survive this dual by any means necessary for 10 additional points to combat. Impressing your master will add an additional 10 points to combat. Defeating your opponent will add an additional 100 points to combat.]

5 minutes. He got up from his feet with the arakh in his hand. Narak was a fully grown man, more than a head taller than him. Not only that, Narak came from a warrior society based on strength. His oily braided black hair reached all the way down to his shoulders blades. That was to say, he had been undefeated for multiple years. He had no chance of harming him, much less defeating him.