here,â he said to Oleg.
He was on his knees in front of the child. He gently cupped the childâs chin in his large hand and lifted it. The tears were still streaming down his dirty face, leaving obscene white marks in their wake. âWhat is your name?â Merrik said.
The little boy sniffed loudly. He stared at Merrik, his small features so drawn with fear that Merrik said, âI wonât hurt you. What is your name?â
The child said quite clearly, his words only mildly accented, âMy name is Taby. That fat man took myââ His voice died, just stopped cold. He looked at Merrik and the tears were thicker now and the child was sniveling and hiccuping. And there was such fear in the childâs eyes that Merrik wanted to snarl like a wolf, but he didnât. He didnât want the child to fear him more.
He said only, his voice low, slow, âWhat is your brotherâs name?â
The child ducked his head down and said nothing.
âIs he your brother?â
The child nodded, nothing more. He was very afraid. Merrik didnât blame him.
Merrik had looked up as heâd spoken, but the merchant was gone. The child was alone. He looked down at that bowed head, saw the childâs thin shoulders heave and shake with his crying. He knew well what became of children who were alone and were slaves. Most of them died, and if they didnât, well, perhaps what became of them was even worse. Suddenly, Merrik didnât want this child to die. He took the little boyâs hand, felt the filth on the childâs flesh, felt the delicate bones that would snap like twigs at the slightest pressure, and something lurched inside him. The child wasnât as thin as his brother, and Merrik knew why. The older brother had given what food heâd gotten to the little boy. âYou will come with me, Taby. I will takeyou from this place. You will trust me.â
The child shuddered at his words and didnât raise his head or move.
âI know it is difficult for you to believe me. Come, Taby, I wonât hurt you, I swear it.â
âMy brother,â the child whispered, and he raised his head then and looked at Merrik with pathetic hope. âMy brother is gone. What will happen to him?â
âCome,â he said, âtrust me.â He walked away from the line of slaves, the little boyâs hand tucked firmly in his large one.
Merrik knew he would buy the child for a very small weight of silver, and he was right. Soon he had completed his business with Valai, a small man with a twinkling eye and a shrewd, ruthless brain. Valai wasnât, however, necessarily cruel, just matter-of-fact and spoke his mind when it couldnât hurt his trade. He said to Merrik, âI know you arenât a pederast, thus the child will bring you no pleasure and will be only a burden to you.â
âAye, but it doesnât matter. I want him.â
âItâs possible that someone would buy him and he would be raised well, used only to service his masters. Not a bad life for such as he. Better than dying, which is what would happen at many other places.â
Merrik said nothing but he felt his guts surge with rage. Aye, the best that could happen would be that the child would be raped endlessly, then trained to pleasure men, those damned Arabs who kept both sexes in their keeping to pleasure them at their whim. After Taby grew up and no longer had a boyâs allure, he would be thrown into the fields to work over crops until he died. And Merrik couldnât bear that. He looked down at Taby. No, he wouldnât allow that to happen. He didnâtquestion what he would do with the child. He paid Valai, then went to find Oleg.
If Oleg believed him mad, he said nothing, merely stared at the small boy, then grinned and nodded, rubbing his hands together. Oleg always loved an adventure. Merrik realized he was thinking he would grant him one this day. And Oleg