"Acheron" - читать интересную книгу автора (Kenyon Sherrilyn)

November 8, 9532 BC

I waited on the deck with bated breath for Acheron's return. Over the last four days I'd tried my best to see him, but no one would allow it. Apparently the regular passengers weren't allowed below decks anymore than the slaves were allowed above.

Almost everyone was gone now, even the sailors, while Boraxis and I waited.

At last, I saw Acheron appear. As he had on the day they'd taken him below, he had his cowl pulled low, his head bent down.

Not even a single glimpse of his body or face could be seen.

"There you are!" I said in joy at seeing him again.

He said nothing in return.

When I tried to embrace him, he shrugged me away. When I tried to meet his gaze, he moved past me.

His actions irritated me. Was this the thanks I received for saving him from the madness of my uncle's home? Surely as bare as the slaves' quarters had been, they were preferable to being mauled by others.

"Don't be so petulant, Acheron. I had no choice."

Still he spoke no words.

I wanted to shake him. This was the first time his behavior reminded me of Styxx. "What is wrong with you? Answer me!"

"I want to go home."

I was completely flabbergasted by his whispered request that was tinged with anger.

"Are you mad? Why would you ever want to return to Atlantis?"

He didn't respond.

Sighing in frustration, I led him from the deck. Once we were on the docks, Boraxis went to procure us a closed herio for the journey home.

Still Acheron remained silent. He didn't look around or show any interest at all in the fact that he was safe from Estes's clutches.

"We're in Greece now. Not too far from home."

When he made no response, I sighed and was grateful to see a herio drawing near us. Maybe that would cheer his malaise.

As it stopped before us, a nobleman hailed me.

"My lord?" I asked as he drew near. He wasn't much older than I. His clothes and bearing said that he was extremely well to do, though I didn't recognize him as an aristocrat or dignitary.

He barely looked at me. It was Acheron who held his attention, Acheron who shrank away from the man. "Is he yours, my lady?"

I hesitated at answering that. "Why do you wish to know?"

"I want to buy him. Name your price and I'll pay it."

Anger cut through me. "He's not for sale."

The man finally met my gaze. I swear I saw madness in his blue eyes. "I'll pay anything you wish for him."

Boraxis rejoined us and frowned a stern warning at the man. "Get in the herio, Acheron."

Acheron didn't speak as he quickly climbed inside.

When I tried to join him, the man actually stopped me. "Please, my lady. I have to have him. I'll give you anything you wish."

Boraxis forced the man aside.

I climbed into the herio all the while the man continued to try to bribe me.

"I can't believe this," I mumbled. "Does this happen often?"

"Yes." Acheron's response was barely more than a whisper.

Boraxis secured our door. "I shall ride with the driver, my lady." He handed me a wineskin and what felt like bread wrapped in cloth. "If you need anything, call for me."

"Thank you, Boraxis."

He nodded, then climbed up on the seat outside.

Having eaten a large breakfast on the ship, I wasn't hungry. I could feel Acheron's stare, but he still kept himself covered by his cloak. "Would you care for a bite?" I asked, handing the food to Acheron.

As the herio started forward, he tore into the cloth like a starved animal. It wasn't until he moved to eat that I finally saw a glimpse of his forearm.

There was blood encrusted around the gold band on his wrist. But he didn't seem to notice as he shoved chunks of bread into his mouth.

"Are you all right, Acheron?"

He only continued to eat ravenously.

When the bread was gone, he attacked the wineskin with the same fervor. It was several minutes before he lowered the skin and let out what sounded like a relieved breath.

I reached for his injured arm.

He didn't move as I sat forward and pulled the band back to uncover a nasty wound there. As I looked at his bloodied wrist, I noticed more bruises on his forearm.

And then I saw his face.

I gasped in alarm. Before I could think of what I was doing, I jerked the cowl down. His skin was still that dull, ashen gray, his hair lank and matted.

But it was his face that held me transfixed. Dark purple circles ran underneath both eyes as if he hadn't slept at all. His lips were chapped, raw and bleeding. Both of his cheeks were bruised as if someone had slapped him repeatedly. One eye was red from broken blood vessels.

His clothes were torn and dirty.

"What happened to you?"

He gave me a true, insolent glare that cut through me. "I'm a trained tsoulus, Idika, that you left unprotected for four days. What do you think they did to me?"

Horrified, I called for Boraxis as Acheron replaced his cowl.

The herio stopped immediately. Boraxis came down and opened the door. "Yes, Highness?"

"Take me back to the ship."

"May I ask why, Highness?"

"They… they…" I couldn't even bring myself to say it. "I want everyone who touched Acheron to be put into chains!"

Boraxis frowned.

I pulled the cowl down again and showed Boraxis Acheron's battered face. "Look what they did to him."

Acheron met Boraxis's gaze and something strange passed between them.

"Highness," Boraxis said in a low, calm tone, "I'll take you back if you wish it, but only Acheron's rightful owner can demand restitution for his damage."

I ground my teeth at him. "He is not a slave."

"He's marked as a slave, Highness. That's all that matters."

"So that gives them the right to abuse him?"

"And again, Highness, I repeat, only his rightful owner can demand restitution. All the law will give you for what they did is financial compensation for his use. No free man will be punished for using a slave."

"A slave can be beaten for hurting him like this! And I want it so."

"Highness, a slave wouldn't have dared touch him like that."

I gulped. "What are you saying?"

Boraxis looked past me to Acheron. "Acheron? Who hurt you?"

"The sailors, and when they were done with me, they sold me to noblemen they brought below the decks."

Boraxis returned his gaze to mine. "You are a noblewoman and I your servant. No one will care what we think any more than they will care what was done to a slave."

Then an awful fear went through me. "Did you know they'd do this to him?"

"No, Highness. I assumed he'd be left alone with the other slaves. Had I any inkling they would have harmed him, I would have warned you."

I believed him.

Even so, I'd never been so angry in all my life. If we were in my father's kingdom…

But we weren't. Boraxis was right. Here, outside my father's realm, I had no voice.

Sick over the matter, I nodded. "Find us someplace where we can have his bands removed, Boraxis."

"You can't remove them," Acheron said in a panicked voice. "It is a death sentence to any tsoulus for anyone other than their idikos to remove their bands."

"You're not a slave and I will not have you marked as one!"

He shrank away from me.

Sighing, I looked back at Boraxis. "Acheron needs more food and someplace safe to rest and bathe. He could also use fresh clothes."

"I'll ask the driver for such a place, Highness."

I nodded at him. He left us and climbed back up. It was a few seconds later that we started forward again.

"No one is going to hurt you anymore, Acheron."

Tears gathered in his eyes before he pulled the cowl back up to shield his face from me.

"Speak to me, little brother. Tell me what thoughts you have."

"My will is your will, Idika."

"Stop calling me that! I am Ryssa. I'm not your owner."

And again he had no response to that.

Aggravated, I left him to himself while we traveled for the next hour until Boraxis found us a large hostel where I could rent Acheron a room so that he could bathe and rest.

A short time later, Boraxis brought a smith to the room.

I knocked on Acheron's door, then pushed it open to find him lying naked on his bed. I motioned Boraxis and the smith to stay in the hall while I entered.

"Acheron," I said softly, reaching to shake him awake.

I paused as I saw the myriad of scrapes and bruises that marred his perfect skin. There were places where entire handprints were still visible from his abuse. Gods, the horror he must have faced alone in the belly of the ship.

My stomach churned at the sight of my failure to protect him. How could I be so worthless? I pulled a blanket over him before I shook him very gently and promised myself that he wouldn't be hurt like this again.

He came awake as if terrified.

"All's well," I assured him.

He looked about as if not quite sure he should believe me.

"Boraxis?" I called.

He entered with the smith behind him. As soon as Acheron saw the tools in the smith's hands, he panicked and tried to run.

"Stop him."

Boraxis did. He grabbed him and held Acheron down on the floor while the smith brought a large pair of clips forward to snip through the bands.

Acheron screamed and fought as if we were cutting off his limbs.

"Please, stop!" he begged hoarsely. "Please!"

His pleas tore through me, but this was what must be done. I didn't want anyone else to mistake him for a slave. "It's all right, Acheron. You're free."

Still he fought until the last band had been removed. Then he lay without moving, his eyes dazed.

"Keep the gold," I told the smith, who then thanked me and left.

I looked at Boraxis, stunned by Acheron's actions. "Why would he not want them removed?"

"You took his registration shield. If a slaver finds him now, he doesn't have to be returned to his owner. Anyone can claim him."

I growled at words I didn't want to hear. "He's not a slave."

"He's branded as such on his hand, Princess. If anyone sees that mark, they'll know he's not freeborn."

I frowned. "What brand?"

Boraxis held Acheron's right hand up to show me a jagged brand in his palm that looked like an X through a pyramid. How odd that I hadn't noticed it before. But it made no difference to me.

"No one will know."

"The smith knows, Highness. For that reason, I would suggest we leave here as quickly as possible and reach your father's kingdom before we're stopped again."

My jaw slackened. "You're not serious?"

By his face, I could tell that he was. "Please, Highness. Listen to me in this. The last thing I want is to see either one of you harmed. We need to leave."

"Why didn't you tell me about the brand before the smith removed his bands?"

"Highness, I'm a freed slave. It's not in my nature to question my betters. I love and serve you and should the gods decree, I'd give my life for yours."

He was right. I'd seen my father and Styxx beat many a servant for hesitating after they'd given the servant an order.

Nodding, I went to Acheron who still hadn't moved. "Come, Acheron, we must hurry."

He looked at me then with his eyes filled with despair. "Idikos will punish me harshly for this. Have you any idea what you've done?"

"Estes is not going to hurt you ever again. I'm your sister and my word to you, you are safe."

He shook his head in denial. "He will find me. He always does."

"How many times have you escaped?"

"Enough to know it's not worth it."

"This time, it will be." At least that's what I was hoping. And by all the gods, I intended to make it so. No one deserved to live in fear. No one deserved to be mocked and abused. Especially not a boy who had been born a prince.

But even as I promised myself I'd protect him, a part of me wondered if I could.

Like Acheron and Boraxis, I, too, was prisoner to my station. And even against my will, my wings were often clipped.