MYSTERIES OF NO-LAND (FANTASY) - CHAPTER 1

in #fantasy7 years ago

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Chapter 1

Bright flowers of every specie he liked were swinging around him, sprouting fresh and lovely blooms as they danced to the rhythm of the moving cart. This was the life he'd dreamt of. Affluence. Clean, scented air and slaves at his beck and call.
A sudden jolt of the cart put a stop to his heaven-like visions and opening his eyes, he found out that he was still in the cage with his head throbbing like it had been bludgeoned with a hammer the size of Bolwart’s hand.
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They came to a halt and he heard mumblings which were almost overshadowed by cries and shouts from different directions.

Where were they taking him to?
He pushed away the cotton material used in sealing the cage from prying eyes. He had trouble doing so not able to use his hands instead having to use his face. He forced his eyes shut, the ray of light blinding his eyes that had seen nothing but darkness since he awoke. From the little he saw, it seemed they were in a market.

“What do you have there?“
The voice was a cracked baritone.
“Some ‘none -of-your business stuff. Get out of our way!“

A brief silence followed and then movement continued. Vince wondered what they could have done to have dismissed the confrontation so quickly, easily. He would have screamed his lungs out if not for the bit that had been expertly fixed ensuring that no noise escaped his mouth. That Salen was a natural-born, talented larcenist.

The movement was smooth from there, no stops, bumps or throbbing until they came to what looked like a slope. They stopped.
Where they gonna throw him in a river?

He dismissed the thought as soon as it came. They surely won't have gone through all that trouble just to dump him in God knows where. He felt the cage being let down. Maybe he was wrong. He waited, his heart suddenly palpitating. Someone tore back the covering of the cage, pulled back the latch and toppled it so that he fell out in a heep.

He had to lower his gaze, the light still hurting his eyes. A kick on his buttocks jeered him to life.
“Get the fuck up you filthy animal!“

He struggled with the instructions. It wasn't exactly easy getting up when you had your hands bound to your back.
Finally, he was up on his feet. The wind kept peeling at his body and the pendant on his chest, cold kept sending chills down his spine as they moved into a grotto.
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He wondered what they could have done with his shirt. That one had been his most expensive yet.
“How much do you think he'll bring? He's not exactly fat or muscular you know!“ the one he'd come to know was Bolwart asked.

Vince gave him a hard glance that earned him a smirk in return.
“You'll be my last boy. When I'm done selling you, I'll buy a house in the hillside and drink myself to death. If the bargain goes well, I might as well get myself a bitch about the size of you. I like them young and fresh. Right Salen?”
The pot-bellied guy who had his ponytail running to his shoulders barely nodded, his eyes never leaving the road. George was left wondering if he enjoyed what he did. Stealing people just to sell them off wasn't exactly a dream job.

They finally came to a big hall where they met some big muscled guys, as shirtless as he was, sporting big muscles, the kind that would make Bolwart jealous. Throughout this pitiable journey, he had often pontificated about how big and powerful he was. Perhaps, he might have bullied the others into joining his line of work. He was worried though that the third and only one among them who seemed to still have a functional conscience was no longer with them. He had been so kind to have allowed him some sip from his water skin.
Bolwart whispered some stuffs into one of the guy's ears and then he left after making eye contact with his other two colleagues.
Vince took liberty of looking around. The place was quainted, bourgeois even. Several furniture covered with mild colored embroidery covered them. On the unpainted walls were several paintings, each unique in their own way. The one with the flaming sword though. He was drawn in by his dark eyes and really black pupils. Looking closer, he saw that he had on his bare chest, the same pendant with him. He gawped at it not noticing when Bolwart came close. He turned to him sharply.

“Where did you get that pendant?“
Shakingly, seeing the fire in Bolwart’s eyes he answered.
“I've had it on before I could even walk!“

“Damn! Salen, grab the boy. We're getting out of here immediately!“

Grabbing Vince, they skippered off only to be stopped by the melodious voice of a lady.
“Going so soon. Where are your manners Bol!“

She was adorned in a wine-colored, floor-sweeping gown with tint of silver lining the collar. She was resplendent and from the way she carried herself, sashaying towards them, she was aware of it. She sat on the sofa. She beckoned on him to do the same but he declined.
“I'm sorry we ain't doing business today“
“Why?”
“Change of plans! “
“Too bad then,” she said shaking her head as she got up. She pointed at her hefty-looking guards.

“Kill them both and bring me the boy. He's the one we've been looking for! “

PROLOGUE

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Great piece, keep the spirit of the pen alive

Thanks liking my story.

This is a master piece
You are good bro

Thanks. I'm glad you like it. Keep coming back please.

Wow! This is amazing! Please keep writing!

I shall. Thanks for reading my story.

You reel out masterpieces. Please keep writing

Good write up. Steem on bro.

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Very interesting,

He wondered what they could have done with his shirt. That one had been his most expensive yet.

Let him buy less expensive shirts if they keep taking it na :D

Interesting story though.

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