The Boy with a Flower

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When you're sleeping outside in the fresh air, you tend to get up with the dawn, or shortly thereafter. Which is about the time that the brunette woman in the cage screamed.

Mei was startled into wakefulness and saw the thief on the other side of the bars going through the same. She looked around while blinking sleep from her eyes, feeling groggy. It had not been a restful slumber. The late-night party and the shallow bullet wound in her shoulder had conspired against her.

The brunette had her back pressed up against the bars, hands on her mouth and eyes wide.

And there, directly across from her, was the farmer. His head leaned against the door of his cage, face forever locked into an expression of fear, his mouth hanging loose, eyes open and empty.

Mei quickly turned her head away at the sight, feeling her heart thud. How horrible!

The thief jerked and the brunette screamed again.

This was enough to draw the attention of their captors. The tired night guard strolled over with an annoyed expression and saw the corpse. He mumbled something and then turned and shouted, calling more warriors over. More men came out of their huts and wandered over. Some yawned, others stretched. A few had spears in hand. One was still naked and entirely unconcerned about it. However, none of the men were wearing anything more than loincloths, so it wasn't a huge omission.

They surrounded the cage. Tattoos just glared at them in return, his eyes calculating. The way he sat in his cage appeared to be casual at first glance, but a closer look revealed that he was ready to throw himself out the door if it opened. The Caribs were smart. They knew this and were taking no chances. Four spears pointed directly at Tattoos, threatening him. One preemptively stabbed at him, drawing blood from his shoulder.

Tattoos cursed and said something in a Slavic language. But he didn't relax and his eyes remained intense.

A warrior opened the cage door. Two reached in and grabbed hold of the dead farmer, dragging him out.

Tattoos burst forward but didn't even make it to the door before four spears jabbed him in the chest.

He winced and stopped rather than impale himself. The wariness in his eyes turned to hate.

They removed the corpse and dropped it on the ground. Slamming the cage door shut and re-chaining it caused Tattoos to bare his teeth in frustration. The warriors stood around and argued, fingers pointing at the body, then at Tattoos. They seemed mildly angry. Two warriors grumbled and grabbed the farmer under the arms and dragged him to the center of the village. They dumped him next to the central firepit.

Women were already risen and more rising and going about morning chores throughout the village. An older woman, the one who'd led the butchering of the first guard they'd delivered, stood over the body and frowned. She argued, but the warriors just pointed back at the prisoners. The woman also glanced their way and scowled. Perhaps it was too soon to slaughter another; they already had meat from another guard smoked and waiting, so this would be wasteful. But there was nothing for it; they weren't going to let the meat rot. The older woman glumly waved at other females and grabbed a knife to get to work.

Mei turned away, her empty stomach clenching. She had no interest in watching the process a second time. Instead, she looked at Tattoos.

He appeared to be disappointed and sour. He gave the cage door a couple of vicious kicks which did nothing, then sat back and glowered at the Caribs. His wounds didn't seem to affect him. Or if they did, he pretended that they didn't.

"You murdered him," Mei accused the man.

Tattoos didn't even bother to look her way.

"How could you?" she asked. "Why?"

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