A Brief Interrogation

Peter turned to see Sugo Pratt.

What was the leader of the group of Rota Sukans doing visiting them? Why was he speaking to them? His fellows had formed camp some distance away. There were tents and music and laughter. Peter could see them playing games of chance, telling stories, and making merry. The Rota Sukans had come alive. They would be home tomorrow. Though Peter resented their happiness, he understood it. What he didn’t understand was why Suga Pratt was addressing him.

Their meager fire was the furthest away from where the Rota Sukans had made their own. Here, at the edge of those gathered, it was isolated and dark. There were animals in the darkness. Wolves perhaps, or something meaner. Peter was no stranger to keeping wild animals away from the livestock. The fires would be sufficient, but if they went dark, the beasts might descend on them. He would have to forage for wood to keep the fire lit. He was tethered to Turian and Ramon. He couldn’t go far out of the range of the light anyway, but it was imperative that they stay in the safety of the light.

Sugo Pratt didn’t ask to sit. He lowered himself across from the trio. “Why do you not leave him?” His pale, grey eyes regarded Ramon’s haggard, slim form.

“Because.” Peter did not feel inclined to justify his compassion. The sentiment made him feel defiant, even if it was dangerous. The Rota Sukans would have cut Ramon lose like they had others on the journey. The old man was just another liability. Another resource that would not fetch a profit at market. They didn’t care if he lived or died and that made Peter feel indignant.

“An insufficient reason.” Sugo Pratt may have had an accent, but he spoke Sessainian fluently. He regarded Ramon, then looked back at Peter. There was patience on his face and curiosity in his eyes. Peter still could not adjust to the size of the Rota Sukans. They towered over the average human and were easily three times thicker. Sugo was festooned in jewelry and wore fine, flowing clothes made out of a shimmering fabric. He would have mistaken him for some foreign diplomat, a man of sophistication, if he wasn’t gargantuan and his people didn’t have a soured history,

“He was our elder in the town you took us from. He knows many things.” It was Turian that spoke up.

This seemed to appease Sugo Pratt. He nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Ramon. “A lore keeper.”

“Mr. Sugo Pratt, sir, milord, master, I am Turain De’Lain. Happily at your service.”

Sugo Pratt regarded Turian over the bridge of his nose. He hesitated, and was clearly trying to decide if Turian disgusted him. But his disdain faded to a toothy grin.

“You know your place crassack. This is good. It will serve you well and fetch me a suitable price. You’re friend here would benefit from such a lesson” Sugo Pratt glanced at Peter who glared at him defiantly.

It was weird to Peter. The man could clearly speak Sessainian, but every so often he would use Rota Sukan words. Maybe prisoner or slave wasn’t good enough for him. Maybe the reality of what he did got to him. Whatever the case, he would never submit to being some Rota Sukan’s pet. He would never be a compliant lap dog. He glanced over at Ramon. They could threaten the old man. That might convince him, might cow him into submission, but he wasn’t going to tell them that.

“There is no point in resisting. You are big, powerful, and I am small and inferior. I stay alive because you will it. I won’t lie, I would avoid this fate if possible, I will earn my freedom, you can do that in Rota Suka, yes?” Turian ingratiated himself. Peter gave him a baleful look. The man would do anything to survive.

“Yes, it can be earned, but it is not easy.” Sugo Pratt responded in a hollow, cryptic tone. He was staring into the flames of the fire. The glow made his eyes shimmer with light.

“I didn’t think it would be easy, but I will do whatever is required to earn it.” Turian clenched his jaw and nodded.

“Survive the trip to market first crassack. Then I will fetch a fine price for you, and then you can bargain about freedom with your master.” That seemed to be Sugo Pratt’s ending to the conversation. He had sated his curiosity. He had asked his questions. He was not here to be interrogated by a prisoner. He grunted as he rose, stared at Peter, then strode off toward his people.

“How can you stand yourself?” Peter gave Turian a caustic glare.

“Peter, I am not strong like you, not as durable. If I want to survive, I will have to try other tactics. I’m sorry if that goes against some morals you acquired somewhere, but I will be free. Don’t you want to be free again?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then you need to play a game. Hitting a wall will only end in death. This isn’t some tussle back home. You’re not in some drinking contest at the Greenview. Pissing off Sugo Pratt, or your new master, will end in death. They have plenty of slaves. You’re property. They’ll grieve your loss with little fanfare. We’re on our own. Nobody is coming now. There are going to be no daring rescues. We’re property now. It falls on us to change that.”

There was truth to what he was saying. Maybe he was judging Turian too hard. Still, he had suggested abandoning Ramon. He had been a bully back in Eldorn when he had a small gang and a wealthy father. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t emaciated or small. But he wasn’t a laborer either. Peter had spent his days digging, hauling, and tending to the animals. Turian had spent his days reading and taking long hikes and practicing falconry. He was an adequate hunter. There were long stretches when he was far from town on some hunt. He wasn’t a lazy good for nothing, but he was hardly a friendly sort.

Still, he was a familiar face. There was a sea of strangers around them. Captives from other places who gathered with people they knew. There were even other people from their home town. They had gathered around their own fires. Held their own private councils. He had grown up with Turian. They had run in different circles, but they were the same age, and he was definitely more learned. They were in a strange land about to be sold. He might not like him, but Turian was the closest thing he had to a friend right now.

He sighed and stared into the fire. He had to gather sticks soon to keep the fire going. To keep them alive. But for now, he would rest.