Chapter 39: A Dark Room

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Hello, not long to wait for this chapter because this chapter isn't a particularly long one.

Enjoy.

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There was something about being caught and turned in by Smithers of all people that hurt Imre more than if just any other Tamerian had caught him.

Smithers who had shown kindness, taken his side on the ship, let him stay with Adira.

What was the point?

Of life, of anything? If fate was so set on screwing him over.

He had tried and he had failed.

"Can you stand?" that gruff familiar voice.

Imre shook his head.

Even if he had possessed the strength, Imre was done fighting, done trying.

Reaching down Smithers grabbed a hold of Imre's forearm and slung it over his shoulder.

Imre let him, feeling like a rag doll.

Showing strength beyond that of most men his age Smithers lifted Imre off the ground.

The second his stomach made contact with Smithers shoulder in the fireman's carry Imre let out a groan of pain.

"Quiet now," Smithers warned. "Bite down against the pain boy, don't give them the satisfaction."

Smithers was right. He would stay silent.

He was caught, but at least he would have some dignity in his death.

Gritting his teeth Imre bore the pain that came with each of Smithers steps in silence, trying to breath as little as possible.

It was only a handful of steps before the pain consumed Imre's whole field of vision so that, even though he was still awake and conscious, he was entirely unable to get any sort of bearing on his surroundings.

He knew where they were headed though, to the nearest garrison, or dock masters.

Smithers would likely get some coin for handing him over.

Finally they came to a blissful halt giving Imre some reprieve.

After a few breaths Imre finally had the strength to look around.

The street was quiet and dark.

Where were they?

A door opened, but Imre from his place hanging over Smithers back could not see who answered.

"I'll be needing that back room."

There was a pause, and then the clink of coin changing hands.

Smithers started walking again and Imre let out a groan before biting his tongue.

And then he was being laid down gently on a pallet.

What the hell was going on?

"What were you thinking lad?" Smithers asked, closing the door to the room.

"Where..."

"Somewhere safe, for now."

Safe?

Imre blinked and looked at the humble surroundings, barely visible in the light of the single candle. There was a table, a chair and a fireplace.

As Imre looked around Smithers went over to that fireplace and lit the hearth.

"Why?" Imre finally managed.

Smithers stayed facing away from him, his hands on his knees in the squat as he looked down on the flames.

"Why did you run?" Smithers asked instead of answering.

Imre tried to push himself up into a sitting position and failed miserably.

"I'd appreciate the truth considering I just stuck my neck out for your scrawny arse."

Why would Smithers help him?

Unless...Imre squinted. Did Smithers know the truth of his identity? Was he hoping for a bigger ransom than what would likely be currently on his head?

"Do you know who I am?" Imre asked.

"I heard miss Adira call you by your name. Imre wasn't it?"

"Yes..."

"Well, Imre, I saw you dive into the sea to save her, and I saw you sit by her side...And I saw the way Verek looked at you."

"Why do you care what I did, or who want's my skin?"

Bile rose to Imre's mouth as memories of Verek's hands came back to haunt him.

"I've been alive longer than you have boy." Smithers finally stood brushing off his hands. "I know what should matter, what shouldn't...and what does."

Imre shivered and Smithers shook out straw from a blanket and covered him gently. Then he hauled over the chair and sat by Imre's side.

"If I'm not mistaken, that's his brand on your shoulder. Am I wrong?"

Imre looked away.

"I thought as much."

"I couldn't..." Imre managed.

"I don't blame you."

Imre looked in Smithers face and saw a quiet anger rolling there.

"We'll have to do something about the brand before you go anywhere less you want to be taken right back to where you started."

"I can't go back," Imre said, not bothering to give away the fact that Verek was already dead.

It was one thing for Smithers to help him out of some strange pity it was another thing for him to knowingly harbor a slave wanted for murdering his master.

While Imre had not struck the blow that had killed Verek he hoped that he was the one who would be blamed. The idea of Heftar being drawn and killed for saving his life made Imre want to be sick.

He would confess to a crime he didn't commit before he let Heftar pay for it.

"There are fates worse than death, I understand why you chose to run boy, and I'll be damned if I'm the reason you go back."

Smithers stood and went back to the fire, tension radiating off his body.

"Tomorrow we'll fix you up as best we can, burn over that brand so it becomes something unrecognizable and get you into the market for the slave sale. Its the best I can do for you. We both know that you don't have another run up the canal in you as you are and  Verek takes the ships too often for me to take you in as my own. The market is your best chance." Smithers ran a hand over the side of his face. "I would give you more time to heal, but I ship out first light the day after next. We'll have to cut your hair too, and while you might not like it, its best if we do something about that pretty face of yours. Verek was careful not to make you any less pretty I'm guessing, but if you want to hide from him, a crooked nose and a haircut, a new name and a new master...will hopefully be enough to keep you. This city is big enough for you to disappear."

 A knock came at the door and Smithers answered accepting a tray. Imre caught a glance of it as Smithers set it down on the chair. There was food and a pitcher of wine.

Smithers poured himself a glass of the deep red wine and drank it down in a gulp.

Imre saw his hands shaking and felt a moment of nerves himself when Smithers came towards him, but the older man's hands were gentle as he propped Imre up with a pillow and placed the bowl of soup on Imre's lap before handing him a spoon.

"Eat up and then rest," Smithers nodded towards the bowl. "You'll be needing your strength for what's to come."

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There you go, hope you enjoyed that chapter.

And that you love Smithers as much as I do, if you do please leave some love.

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