It was a quiet time on the barge for the next few days. A stop or two here and there allowing passengers to disembark and new ones to get on, but always there were fewer going on than getting off, and the barge was gradually emptied as a result.

And through it all, as day and night passed, Ahmarantha felt the weight of punishment bearing down on him ever more. As he waited, he recalled a story whispered to him when a cage was his home and a collar his only garb. The tale was whispered by another elf, one hobbled and gone half mad, covered with scars on his body that were so many that he was a walking story of every kind of injury. ‘That’s the end, yes. When they’ve used us up, they take us out and use us for bait, staking us where wild vampires lost in their bloodlust are thought to live. Or if not the blood suckers, it will be the werewolves, they like to use the old women for that though, werewolves love the taste of women best of all… no escape. Not for us, once they’ve got us… once they’ve got us…’

He never did finish that sentence. A pair of human workers slid poles through the old elf’s cage and carried him cackling and thrashing, naked but for the shadows cast by the bars and a heavy iron collar around his throat, off to whatever end awaited him.

That looming wait for punishment kept his blood and heart pounding. It was only Ahmarantha’s many years of training and self-discipline that kept him from weeping through every waking hour. Sleep had been fitful, and filled with nightmares about what they might do once presented with a proper whipping post or worse.

His new master slept close by, not even three paces from him, the rocking of the boat, far from making the old human sick, seemed to help him sleep. But for Ahmarantha himself, to say nothing of the other elves who made frequent trips to the chain along the edge of the barge to add fresh vomit to the water.

The noise of gulping followed by the gasping heaves as another meal was emptied out and the waters splashed as chunks of half-digested bread and cheese were swiftly gobbled up by fish that were now avid followers of the barge and the meals it so routinely offered.

‘At least we’re not beaten for throwing up the food we’re given. And at least we’re given food.’ Those in and of themselves were favorable features, but it did nothing to ease Ahmarantha’s anxious heart while he lay there staring up at the twinkling stars.

‘A better life?’ That too, haunted his thoughts. Though he’d never experienced it himself, it wasn’t unheard of for humans to purchase elves for perverted purposes, even young ones like himself. But Corwin had only asked that he be referred to as… ‘Uncle? Strange.’ He looked toward the fat human whose copious belly rose and fell. The lack of indecent attention, threats, or even the casual indifferent orders left the young elf feeling ‘adrift,’ his eyes always darting around in uncertainty after his years of constant obedience…

‘And now beyond basic orders that everybody follows, I have nothing to obey. Then what good am I? How am I supposed to act to stay safe? Why are they drawing out the punishment, are they waiting until we’re alone behind closed doors?’ That thought. That one made sense and he squeezed his eyes tight to hide even the starlight from his vision.

His new master was clearly wealthy, and some private rooms featured the tools to discipline a servant, especially in Wenmark.

‘Just deal with it… he must have paid a fortune for you, the inn never sells its experienced slaves, he won’t let you go to waste. It may hurt for a while, but otherwise, no mistakes, and I will be safe.’ The young boy did his best to reassure himself, and lay there until sleep came for him again while the barge continued to bob up and down while being guided from atop the upper rear cabin where the little crew resided.

________________________________________

On the morning of the last stop before they were due to arrive in Wenmark, Speranzi excused herself, leveling one long stare at the elves who still shivered on the wagons. They kept their eyes down, and only the same bold figure from before managed to raise his head when she said, “I am going to question the authorities about any violence done along the way. This is your chance to confess to any violence done to honest people before you attacked my soldiers.”

“We were just hungry… I admit… we took food. We raided a few farms, but for crops, at night! We never hurt anyone; I swear it on your gods!” He vowed, his body shook while he spoke, and it did so even more than those of his comrades who were silent. But his story was unchanged.

“I will pay the cost for any reported losses of food. That will settle their debts without punishment under the law.” Corwin asserted before Speranzi could say anything in return.

She held her steady stare for a moment before nodding. “Death is not the penalty for staying alive.” She recited the scripture from memory and added also, “I am a paladin. Taking from need and not from greed is no sin in the eyes of the gods. You should remember the faith better, Corwin.” She tried to make an affirming wink to her friend, but he didn’t return it.

“Forgive me, I’m not in the best of moods. I hate where we’re going, remember.” He said it quietly, and Speranzi mumbled under her breath…

“How could I forget?”

“I’ll be back in a few hours, before the barge takes on the crew’s rations.” She promised, and as the wooden gangplank was brought out and the ship slid over calm waters toward a simple wide wooden pier. It was the pier of a perfectly ordinary waterfront town, there were a great many piers, at least a dozen if there were two, with a simple wall design of ‘stone bins. In this design, iron rods were driven into the soft earth and metal strips woven between them like baskets. Then the interior was filled with various loose rocks, sand, or earth which made for a level surface to walk on at the top. It spoke of the prosperity of the place that it would have the stone bin design, but given that beyond the wall itself she could see abundant farmland and other little enclaves of civilization, likely the villages that tended the farms, it wasn’t shocking that it should be as it was.

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Before the wall obscured her view, she noted that the dirt highway wove about the land and headed north, with only a few small divergences leading off into forests and out of view. ‘It wouldn’t be hard for elves to avoid people around here… maybe they were telling the truth?’ She wondered as she descended the walkway, moving steadily down despite the wobble that went with the barge.

Despite being lost in her own thoughts, she wasn’t so oblivious that she missed the footsteps behind her.

“You’re really convinced they did something, aren’t you? How come?” Skana asked, and Speranzi looked over her shoulder to see the woman walk casually down after her with hands folded behind her head.

For a brief moment Speranzi considered sending Skana back to the barge, there was no need for her to follow along, certainly she hadn’t been told to come, and none of the others had any interest in the river town. But watching as others walked past in groups of two or three, entering through the gate that faced the river, the mercenary leader gave it a second thought and instead of telling Skana to leave, she answered the question.

“Because they’re elves.” Speranzi hissed. “The scriptures tell us that the gods chose humanity, and that the elves never forgave us for their favor. That’s why their monster of a King waged war on humanity. They’re lucky to serve us instead of their own monarch, at least we are chosen stewards, meant to be firm and just. Meant to be better. They’re not. So of course, they’ll betray us, steal from us, and kill us. I don’t begrudge them food to live… but they attacked my soldiers.” Speranzi growled as they left the pier. “Nobody can attack my precious children and find anything but harsh justice in my eyes.”

“Your children?” Skana asked as they made their way toward the open gate. As seemed to always be the case, they were given a wide berth by others who noticed the hostility and rage of the armored paladin.

“Yes.” Speranzi said without hesitation. “I’ve got nobody but them, that’s it. They’re mine, my responsibility, I feed them, pay them, house them, provide for them… even if not one of them can look me in the eye for more than ten seconds…” Speranzi set her jaw and whispered, “It doesn’t matter. Listen, Skana, that’s what it means to lead. My soldiers are like my children, I won’t throw them away, I won’t sacrifice them for nothing, and I will always look after them. And those elves attacked them. Anyone who would do that is on a short shit list with me. They could tell me it was a cloudless day out right now, and even though I am outside I’d still look up to see if they’re telling the truth.”

Skana fell in at Speranzi’s side and said, “I’ve never met an elf before this trip. But I’ve met a whole lot of liars, and all of those were human. These don’t seem so bad, just desperate.”

“They attacked my soldiers.” Speranzi retorted, her left hand tensed into a fist.

“While unarmed and after they’d been caught. That’s something desperate people do. I know a thing or two about desperation. And a thing or three about corruption, and so should you, Speranzi.” Skana felt her heart leap into her throat when she realized that what she’d said sounded a lot like criticism, and even if it hadn’t, it still had to have hit close to home given the recent lashing Speranzi took.

The reaction of the warrior woman was to flinch as if she were struck.

“I’m sorry.” Skana whispered. “That crossed a line.”

But Speranzi did not answer. ‘No way. Those were isolated incidents. Humans are the ones the gods chose. They’re the only ones there for us… they’re my comfort and peace… their scriptures can’t be wrong.’

The hero of Prioche, the maiden of the door, was so thoroughly lost in her own head that she barely noticed that it was Skana who was leading the way, she completely missed the brief pause when Skana asked a leather armor clad guard where criminal reports and bounties could be viewed or asked after. She never really saw the clean streets or the way the buildings all had a slight elevation, or the trenches around them for diverting water.

For Speranzi, the world simply wasn’t. Nor did she return to it until she felt the poke to her side and the clerk cleared his throat to get her attention. She blinked her eyes several times, then cleared her own throat. “Can I see the current bounties?”

The clerk, an overweight, middle-aged man with a great deal of interest in the paper on his desk, clad in simple laced shirt and short pants, only grunted. He reached beside himself to a small tray and took up a small stack of a dozen papers, which he then handed over without even bothering to look up.

Speranzi all but snatched them out of his hand, they crinkled under her fingers and she began to read the flowing script. ‘Arold Vale, wanted for the murder of his father and mother. Aria Kasta, wanted for arson. Jorin the Tall, wanted for banditry, piracy, and murder, along with a band of a dozen convicted criminals. Tiera the Swift, thievery.’ Each one she read came with a description, none of them mentioned an elf.

She was subconsciously handing each paper to her left, toward Skana, who took them without question until Speranzi’s hands were empty.

“And are there no reports of elven brigands, murder, fires? Ravishing of human women? Nothing?” Speranzi demanded, and the fat little clerk shrugged while he continued pouring over his own work.

“No, a few reports of sightings, but we report those to the guards, some were spotted in a farm not far from here not that long ago. But they’re long gone by now.” He held out a hand while scribbling with his quill and accepted the offered bounty list back.

“What would happen if they’d been caught.” Skana asked pointedly and raised an eyebrow, “Forgive my ignorance, I’m not from here.”

The clerk set the papers down and chortled enough to jiggle his ample belly, “Probably the guards would cut their tendons at the ankles and ship them back to their masters. After that, it’s up to their owners. I hear around Wenmark they crucify the ones who run away, and formally execute them with a spear after three days. But if a human was harmed, they leave the runaway up there to die of exposure. Hard way to die, it can take days or even weeks. Around here we just give them the barrel treatment and send them back to their masters.”

Speranzi’s mouth was drawn into a long thin line.

“Have a good day. Thank you for the information.” Skana gave a cheery smile to the clerk who still did not acknowledge their presence.

He only grunted, barely recognizing that they intended to leave.

“Rumors. Just rumors. Nothing more. He just said he heard that’s what they’d do. But that can’t be right. Just gossip, that’s all it is, and people love to make up big stories out of little ones.” Speranzi said when the door shut behind them.

Skana only sighed, “Back to the barge then, we’ve still got a good ways to go.”

Speranzi did not argue.