The day had not yet broken when the carriage train had stopped. They were away off the road now, deep into the shroud. The trees seemed to press in on them as their boughs obscured the sky overhead while the wagons themselves were arranged in a half circle with a fire pit dug in the middle. Meanwhile, the men went about setting up various tents along the other half of the circle.
Florence had endured the trip as well as she was able. Her eyes were closed in thought for most of the ride, since they were not allowed to speak. Even here, her heart was heavy as images of her love flashed through her mind. His final moments replayed again and again. She had long since spent any tears left in her body that night. Opening her eyes she looked softly at the woman across from her.
She was thin, lithe, and Elezen. Not as young as Florence, but if she had to venture a guess she would have placed the woman in her fourth decade of life. Less than two score years, for sure. She had been here longer than Florence as was apparent by the state of her dress and the grime caked to her forehead. Her rags barely clung to her form at this point. She had no shirt, but a thin shawl-like towel draped over her shoulders which she had to constantly hold closed at the front or risk humiliating herself.
Another girl, a young midlander with dirty blonde hair cowered next to her. She had not spoken a word since Florence had awoken. At the far end of the wagon was a large Roegadyn woman who occupied almost two places herself. It was a wonder her head wasn't permanently tilted as she barely cleared the ceiling. To Florence's right was another highlander woman she did not recognize.
Craning her neck to look out the bars towards the other wagons, at least three others seemed to be the same type, carrying the same cargo. Two others had no bars and were probably full of material wealth or supplies. She eventually settled back down as she could not comfortably see anything for long.
Their captors had meanwhile finished setting up their tents, built a bonfire, and were settling down on various stumps and large stones that were placed around it. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and none of the women could hold back the sounds of their collective hunger. For the time being it seemed they were forgotten. Despite their conditions, the group let out a collective sigh.
Florence watched the Elezen woman for a time before she could no longer take the silence of the night. "Where ar'ya from, then?" she said.
"Gridania.", she replied.
"'N where's tha?"
"Close."
She looked down and away from the woman when it became clear she had no interest in conversation.
They all started when there was a sudden clang from the bars on the opposite side of the wagon. "Oi in there. It's slop time." came a crude voice. The man walked down the far side of the wagon with a pail of some foul smelling broth and a large ladle. He scooped out a generous portion and held it up to the bars just out of reach of the Roegadyn at the end. "Come now, lovelies. You know the drill." he said with a lewd sneer.
The woman sighed and huffed but it was clear he would not relent as he continued to taunt her. Finally she relented and in what was probably the most humiliating act possible, she exposed herself to him. "Aaah, that's be'er.", he said. "This one finally knows her place." He held the ladle to the bars as she leaned forward and drank the broth as he tilted it. Most of it spilling onto the ground.
Continuing down the line he paused at the midlander who was still huddled into as small a ball as she could possibly be. She would not look at him or even acknowledge his presence. When it was clear he could evoke no reaction he shrugged and moved on to the Elezen. "Wot about this one, eh? Care to play missy?"
"Leave 'er alone!" Florence called out without thinking. The men behind her went silent. The one with the pail walked around the cart to glare at her from the side she sat on. "Or wot?", he snarled. He pressed the ladel against her shoulder roughly. "Wot you gonna do about it, missy? Huh? Huh!? Yous that wouldn't even save herself on that beach. Oh, aye, we had much sport chas'n down the rest'o your lot. Count yerself lucky ye ain't with them now."
With that she twisted around and spat at him. "Murderer!"
"Oh, ye shouldn't a done that now, lass."
"Rikard! Quit that wench's mouth 'afore I cut out her tongue." It was Cadmus who gave the order.
"Right, boss. I'mma enjoy this."
The rest of the women clamored to the far end of the wagon as he drew around and unbolted the cage. Grubby fingers reached in as Florence kicked and tried to push back to hide with the rest of them, but her foot was caught. She felt a tug and slid sharply against the wood floor, her clothes snagging splinters and almost tearing. Amidst her cries she was roughly tossed over the man's shoulders and her mouth was gagged. The wagon door slammed shut once more as he carried her off towards a tent behind the rest.
The other women looked horrified at each other, then towards the tent. Her cries were muffled by the gag, but it was quite clear what was happening... or about to. Then silence. Rikard came back out of the tent alone and rubbing his hands. Scrotus piped up at his appearance "Don't tell us ye've gone soft already!". The rest of the man laughed at his crude jest. Rikard went to Cadmus and leaned down, whispering something in his ear.
"Oh, is she now?", Cadmus said with the glint of greed flashing over his eyes. "Aye, we know just the place for the likes of her. Starlight come early boys, we've got a jewel here worth triple price! Change of plans! Nobody is to touch that girl. We need her alive and healthy, aye? Tomorrow night we set out for Ul'dah."
The man, Rikard, returned to the tent momentarily before reappearing with Florence over his shoulder once again. She made no move to struggle as she was carried back to the wagon and roughly thrust inside. She felt her head pulled backwards from the gag as a knife slid along her head and cut it lose once more. The door was closed behind and the bolts locked once more as Florence curled up alone against it, tears streaming down her face once more.
Cadmus himself eventually walked over to the wagon. He thrust his hand through the bars and left a small wooden bowl there with a small piece of the meat and slice of bread. It would have been meager except that it wasn't broth at least. "Here.", he snarled. "And I don't suggest you share."
Florence had endured the trip as well as she was able. Her eyes were closed in thought for most of the ride, since they were not allowed to speak. Even here, her heart was heavy as images of her love flashed through her mind. His final moments replayed again and again. She had long since spent any tears left in her body that night. Opening her eyes she looked softly at the woman across from her.
She was thin, lithe, and Elezen. Not as young as Florence, but if she had to venture a guess she would have placed the woman in her fourth decade of life. Less than two score years, for sure. She had been here longer than Florence as was apparent by the state of her dress and the grime caked to her forehead. Her rags barely clung to her form at this point. She had no shirt, but a thin shawl-like towel draped over her shoulders which she had to constantly hold closed at the front or risk humiliating herself.
Another girl, a young midlander with dirty blonde hair cowered next to her. She had not spoken a word since Florence had awoken. At the far end of the wagon was a large Roegadyn woman who occupied almost two places herself. It was a wonder her head wasn't permanently tilted as she barely cleared the ceiling. To Florence's right was another highlander woman she did not recognize.
Craning her neck to look out the bars towards the other wagons, at least three others seemed to be the same type, carrying the same cargo. Two others had no bars and were probably full of material wealth or supplies. She eventually settled back down as she could not comfortably see anything for long.
Their captors had meanwhile finished setting up their tents, built a bonfire, and were settling down on various stumps and large stones that were placed around it. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, and none of the women could hold back the sounds of their collective hunger. For the time being it seemed they were forgotten. Despite their conditions, the group let out a collective sigh.
Florence watched the Elezen woman for a time before she could no longer take the silence of the night. "Where ar'ya from, then?" she said.
"Gridania.", she replied.
"'N where's tha?"
"Close."
She looked down and away from the woman when it became clear she had no interest in conversation.
They all started when there was a sudden clang from the bars on the opposite side of the wagon. "Oi in there. It's slop time." came a crude voice. The man walked down the far side of the wagon with a pail of some foul smelling broth and a large ladle. He scooped out a generous portion and held it up to the bars just out of reach of the Roegadyn at the end. "Come now, lovelies. You know the drill." he said with a lewd sneer.
The woman sighed and huffed but it was clear he would not relent as he continued to taunt her. Finally she relented and in what was probably the most humiliating act possible, she exposed herself to him. "Aaah, that's be'er.", he said. "This one finally knows her place." He held the ladle to the bars as she leaned forward and drank the broth as he tilted it. Most of it spilling onto the ground.
Continuing down the line he paused at the midlander who was still huddled into as small a ball as she could possibly be. She would not look at him or even acknowledge his presence. When it was clear he could evoke no reaction he shrugged and moved on to the Elezen. "Wot about this one, eh? Care to play missy?"
"Leave 'er alone!" Florence called out without thinking. The men behind her went silent. The one with the pail walked around the cart to glare at her from the side she sat on. "Or wot?", he snarled. He pressed the ladel against her shoulder roughly. "Wot you gonna do about it, missy? Huh? Huh!? Yous that wouldn't even save herself on that beach. Oh, aye, we had much sport chas'n down the rest'o your lot. Count yerself lucky ye ain't with them now."
With that she twisted around and spat at him. "Murderer!"
"Oh, ye shouldn't a done that now, lass."
"Rikard! Quit that wench's mouth 'afore I cut out her tongue." It was Cadmus who gave the order.
"Right, boss. I'mma enjoy this."
The rest of the women clamored to the far end of the wagon as he drew around and unbolted the cage. Grubby fingers reached in as Florence kicked and tried to push back to hide with the rest of them, but her foot was caught. She felt a tug and slid sharply against the wood floor, her clothes snagging splinters and almost tearing. Amidst her cries she was roughly tossed over the man's shoulders and her mouth was gagged. The wagon door slammed shut once more as he carried her off towards a tent behind the rest.
The other women looked horrified at each other, then towards the tent. Her cries were muffled by the gag, but it was quite clear what was happening... or about to. Then silence. Rikard came back out of the tent alone and rubbing his hands. Scrotus piped up at his appearance "Don't tell us ye've gone soft already!". The rest of the man laughed at his crude jest. Rikard went to Cadmus and leaned down, whispering something in his ear.
"Oh, is she now?", Cadmus said with the glint of greed flashing over his eyes. "Aye, we know just the place for the likes of her. Starlight come early boys, we've got a jewel here worth triple price! Change of plans! Nobody is to touch that girl. We need her alive and healthy, aye? Tomorrow night we set out for Ul'dah."
The man, Rikard, returned to the tent momentarily before reappearing with Florence over his shoulder once again. She made no move to struggle as she was carried back to the wagon and roughly thrust inside. She felt her head pulled backwards from the gag as a knife slid along her head and cut it lose once more. The door was closed behind and the bolts locked once more as Florence curled up alone against it, tears streaming down her face once more.
Cadmus himself eventually walked over to the wagon. He thrust his hand through the bars and left a small wooden bowl there with a small piece of the meat and slice of bread. It would have been meager except that it wasn't broth at least. "Here.", he snarled. "And I don't suggest you share."
