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Old 11-02-2005, 09:40 AM   #37
Fordim Hedgethistle
Gibbering Gibbet
 
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Join Date: Feb 2004
Location: Beyond cloud nine
Posts: 1,851
Fordim Hedgethistle has been trapped in the Barrow!
Chakka was taken to the slavedeck by his guards, but he barely noted the trip so full was he of his interview with the Captain. That he had walked out of the Captain’s quarters alive and on his own two feet was a greater victory than he had dared hope for. That he had been able to get the Captain thinking about his insane plan was beyond his wildest dreams. That one quick look the Captain had given him as he left remained in his mind’s eye – what had it meant? Was it a cruel game or some small recognition that they could be allies… Such a petty cruelty seemed so far beneath Rakin that Chakka could not believe it of the man, but was it any more believable that Chakka’s ploy had worked? His mind went back to the Captain’s homily upon the sword, and he realised that while Rakin was brilliant – brilliant and ruthless – he was arrogant. And arrogant men can make mistakes. The Captain knew that he could never trust Chakka, that the slave’s proposal had been nothing more than a gambit. He knew that to put Chakka in contact with the lords would be to play with ruin. But a man like the Captain, an arrogant man, might actually welcome the danger…might actually see it as some kind of game. Chakka imagined that the Captain thrived when challenged, that he was at his happiest when engaged in a contest with a worthy opponent. If Chakka had proven himself such an opponent, then perhaps the Captain would be willing to play. Chakka reminded himself that any game with the Captain would be unfairly stacked in his favour however.

An alarm rang out through the ship and Chakka’s guards hurried their steps. They soon achieved the slavedeck and Chakka was led to an empty bench. A few of the slaves recognised him from his attempt to free them, but they were quick to hide that recognition for fear of drawing the ire of the guards. One or two of the braver men reached out to brush their fingers upon Chakka’s sable skin by way of silent gratitude as he passed. He was roughly put down upon the bench and the long chain which held them all was undone, brought back to where Chakka now sat, threaded through his leg irons and then refastened at the front of the line. The slave master hit Chakka on the back with the but of his whip and ordered him to row. Chakka bit back the desire to seize the man an kill him with his bare hands – something he could have easily done in a moment.

He fell to rowing. As soon as the slave master moved away the man beside him spoke to him in a whisper. “I know what you tried to do for us last night. Thank you.” Chakka made no reply other than to nod – it was not a rude gesture, just minimalist. “I’m Jagar,” the man said.

“Chakka,” he replied. “Do you have any idea what that alarm is about?”

Jagar nodded and quickly explained what had transpired with Ferethor. Chakka was incredulous. “The fool! He wishes to set fire to this vessel? Where does he suppose we are to escape? Does he think the corsairs are going to set us free, give us boats with provisions and let us row away? If he succeeds we’ll roast alive at our oars!” He shook his head at the foolhardiness of the plan. Not only was he dancing upon the knife’s edge with the Captain, now Chakka had to contend with a clearly insane slave. He drove these thoughts from his head, for at the moment, there was nothing he could do about either of them. “I am but new to the life of a galley slave, Jagar. Tell me, is there any hope for us?”
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