Slave To The Seven Seas

Chapter 2

    I was in a state of shock. I couldn't believe what I had just heard. This man, Cyrus, who had saved me from drowning the day before, wanted me to become his slave. To do whatever bidding he required of me. I shuddered at the thought; at the vulgar images and memories that flashed across my mind.

    I had few options: I could accept this stranger's proposition, effectively selling my soul and body to him to do with as he pleases, or I could refuse him, breaking my code of honor (however little was left of it), and return home. Home, however, was a different threat entirely. All that waited for me on those shores was torment. I would surely be recaptured, locked back up in that horrible place without food or sunlight, my only company the harsh visits from my captors that often left me bruised and beaten.

    At least here, it would be my choice to stay. At least I would be fed and clothed and allowed to see daylight. At least this man seemed kind and would take care of me...at least I hoped so.

    "If I were to become your...serf, as you put it, what would that entail exactly?" I tried to keep my voice from shaking. Tried to appear headstrong and decisive. I tugged my bottom lip between my teeth to stop its quaking. If he saw how hesitant I was to accept his deal, he may very well drop me back off where he found me and leave me to the wolves that hunted for my life.

    Cyrus grinned, pleased that he seemed to have piqued my curiosity. He seemed to ruminate on the question for a moment, tapping his finger on his chin. I steeled myself against whatever possible horrors would spill from his lips next.

    "You will dine with me for every meal unless otherwise specified. You will be by my side throughout the day to keep me company and aid in any work I think you're capable of. You will be like a loyal dog, and always come when I call for you, no matter the hour or the reason. You will wear what I choose for you, as you have today. And you will do all of this without argument. Does that sound agreeable?"

    I hummed, thinking over what he said. In reality, none of it seemed as bad as I had first been expecting. The amusement still danced in his eyes, however, leading me to believe there was more to his bargain than he was letting on. But perhaps it was worth a shot after all. Being someone else's lapdog was still better than what waited for me on land in any case. Do I risk the possibility of surrendering myself to someone who could very well be worse than I had experienced, or return to an evil I already knew? I weighed my options carefully, trying to school my features into a look of cool contemplation.

    "I will agree to your terms," I said at last, "but I have some conditions of my own, if that's alright." Cyrus gave a wave of his hand, permitting me to continue. I dug deep, to memories of my father's trade negotiations, delving into a knowledge I had left untouched for years. I would have to word this carefully, deliberately. "I will sleep in my own bedchambers, I have a right to refuse any request that I am completely uncomfortable with, and I get at least one evening a week to myself." At least this way I could have a sense of autonomy, even if I would essentially belong to him in every other way.

    His saccharine grin only widened however, as he agreed to my conditions. He had most likely expected me to either laugh in his face and demand to be returned home, or else shrink in fear and cower from him. For me to agree to stay with him...his expression was over the moon. He could not contain his excitement, however hard he may have tried, and told me they would dock at the next port in order to procure me a new wardrobe that was to his liking.

    As we began discussing which night of the week I would get to myself, a knock came at the door. The man that entered was shorter than Cyrus, and quite muscular despite his slender frame. His shaggy hair was bleached from the sun, and freckles adorned his nose and cheeks.