Daniel with Sam and Cassie

 

                                                                Masks of Protection:  Part 1  

                                                                                                                                                 By:  Stacy L.  

 

 

“Shh hush, hush now little one, hush.”

 

She closed her eyes bidding the tears that wanted to fall to stop. She continued her steady rocking, holding him so tightly in her arms, mourning for him, for the pain he was in. As he began to toss his head she crooned to him and brushed his hair back from his sweaty brow again feeling anger with him, with the world, with the hand that fate had dealt them. She wanted to rail and scream at him, shake him and scold him but she couldn’t for she knew, she knew why he never stopped trying to escape. He was no slave. He wasn’t born a slave and she’d be damned if he’d die a slave. He deserved so much, so much more than what he now had.

 

“Please don’t not…no…”

 

“Hush, hush little one…”

 

“No, no don’t touch…no!”

 

She clenched her eyes tighter as she heard his ramblings. She knew that someone had hurt him when he was younger before he was brought to this place, and she knew who had done the hurting. She was furious that fate seemed to enjoy making him suffer repeatedly. She knew of his past from things he told her, things he said, things he did. She knew he feared touch as he only allowed her to touch him, her and the ones they shared their home with. Anyone else’s touch he rejected often yanking away or ordering them not to touch him. Again she knew the source: his greedy uncle. The one who decided to punish his nephew by selling him into a life of indentured servitude for running away when the abuse became too much for one young boy to handle.

 

She wanted so badly to help him escape the nasty hand fate delivered but there was nothing she could do so he chose to run repeatedly knowing and not caring that in running he was setting himself up for a lashing. It was his nature to run. The life of a slave was not the life he was meant to lead yet still he found himself serving a master for most of his teenage years.

 

                                                    * * * * * *

He hated attending the auctions, for they were so cruel and so inhumane. He hated them but still came to them searching for someone or several whom he could claim as his own and place under his direct protection.

 

He kept the hood pulled down low over his eyes concealing his face from the onlookers. They knew who he was, but not who he had been. They respected him though he always kept his face cloaked because they knew that he’d pay high prices for slaves they felt weren’t worth a damn. He’d purchase several in a week’s time paying decent money for them so they tolerated his persistence of remaining cloaked and he was extremely grateful for that.

 

As people’s voices started climbing around him he lifted his head inwardly shuddering at the images greeting him. Off to his left were at least twenty young women all chained together, no doubt to be sold for breeding and beside them were men likewise manacled. He could see the multitude of sadistic implements used in the slave trading business: chains, whips and other macabre devices designed as a way to keep slaves in line. Along with the women and men were innocent children, most appeared to be the same age as he had been when in their place.

 

As he continued to observe the slaves he felt his heart breaking for them, tensing when the weeping grew in intensity. He hated that most of all: the loud mournful wails that spoke of the anguish and torment the poor unfortunates felt as their children were yanked from their arms and their partners were harshly ordered to march down the stage as voices shouted numbers, prices placed on human beings.

 

He watched as one woman begged and pleaded with her master, no doubt the man presently walking the stage was her husband, and as her master was outbid and her husband declared sold the wails grew in volume as she nearly crumpled under the weight of it. She would most likely never see her husband again. They would be forever separated.

 

He closed his eyes tightly shut lowering his head as he tried to block out the cruelty of it all. Men and women, children being sold as if they were cattle. Their lives no longer their own as their new masters purchased them and made them their property, made them slaves and servants who no longer possessed a will of their own, for a servant, a slave was considered no more than property, a commodity, an animal…livestock.

 

He felt suddenly cold as his mind dared to send him an image of himself lashed to a wagon, being made to pull it as if he were merely a beast of burden. He shook his head violently, snapping his eyes open in an attempt to eradicate the image before it could turn into something more than that and focused on the stage, watching as another man was ordered to walk. This one held his head high and one could feel the intensity in his gaze as he deliberately made eye contact with the bidders silently daring them to bid. No doubt he thought he was being intimidating but seeing as he was chained and nearly naked didn’t help his attempts in the least. Instead the other bidders seemed very anxious to acquire him, no doubt tasting the victory they were determined to acquire when they conquered and broke the man. Bastards.

 

He continued to watch the man, drawn to him for some unexplainable reason and without thought raised his hand to bid. He would be the next one to be saved from the cruel harsh reality of slavery…

 

If he could he would purchase them all and grant them their freedom, but he couldn’t afford it. Yes he was rich, thanks to the gracious inheritance he had received from his parents, but he was no longer alone. Now he housed many slaves. He knew this was where the respect from the other bidders and auctioneers was rooted, not only because he had money but because he also “owned” many servants. If they only knew his true purpose for purchasing slaves as often as he did they’d kill him, but not before torturing him for the information he held.

 

When he was pronounced the new owner he lowered his head and made his way to the back of the stage to pay for his newest acquisition. He paused before approaching the auctioneer to collect his new purchase shuddering internally as he handed the man money for a human being before accepting the leash that was tethered to the collar around the man’s neck and leaving the dingy confines of the auction block.

 

                                                                                                                    * *

He lifted his gaze as another man entered. The one with him spoke in Egyptian, which he could understand very little of. As he watched the newest visitor hand coins to the other he realized that he was seeing his new owner. He gritted his teeth before examining the monster that dared put a price on a human life. He was tall with a muscular build but beyond that he couldn’t ascertain much else due to the robes the man wore, robes that came complete with a low hanging hood that concealed his entire countenance. Damn!

 

He felt anger surge as his “leash” was handed to the newest visitor and a sharp abrupt order was given to him. Clenching his hands tightly into fists he acquiesced, for the moment, and started walking feeling relief wash over him as they exited the disgraceful sight of the slave auctions.

 

As he walked he began to entertain the notion of running tensing when his new owner spoke softly, “To run would be foolish. There are too many people here who would endeavor to recapture and punish you for daring to try.”

 

Shit! How’d the bastard know what he was thinking?

 

Deciding that he’d better wait for another time to run he chose ideal chitchat, “Why do you wear a hood over your face?”

 

The man beside him didn’t hesitate with an answer as he said, “Why? So my face is easily forgotten.”

 

“What?”

 

“My line of work requires anonymity. People are more likely to forget those they can’t see, and I don’t like all the extra attention.”

 

Sneering he replied, “How about I get you some attention and…”

 

“You dare to speak out against me and you will be swiftly gagged. There are many here who would like nothing better than to be given an excuse to beat another. Don’t give them that excuse, Jack.”

 

Jack faltered gazing in shock at his new “owner” and asked, “How do you know…?”

 

“I listen and ask questions, many, many questions.”

 

His voice dripping with sarcasm Jack responded, “Of course you do,” before further inquiring, “So where are we going?”

 

“To my home where you’ll be safe.”

 

Jack snorted before commenting, “Safe? Yeah right.”

 

“Come we must…”

 

Suddenly his “owner” halted causing him to wonder why. Hearing a rather loud guffaw off to his left he focused on the source of the voice. The man with him snapped harshly, “Don’t look directly in another’s eyes! You’re presently a slave to look in another’s eyes is a crime for a slave. Don’t give them an excuse to harm you! You have much to learn, much. We need to show you how to behave so you don’t wind up suffering the wrath of the others.”

 

“Show me how to behave? I already know, you bastard!”

 

He expected anger, rage, cold indifference, anything other than the calm, warm soft reply he received, “Of that I have no doubt, but presently you are not a free man. You’re a servant, a slave, and as such you’re expected to behave in certain ways. If you refuse to do so in the presence of these the punishment will be swift and grave.”

 

“Public flogging?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Unable to resist Jack jeered the man a bit, “Oh you’d do that?”

 

Ignoring the obvious attempt to challenge him he answered, “Not me Jack, them. The others would jump at the chance to harm you for non-compliance. Don’t let your guard down, and don’t be stupid enough to give them an excuse. They have limited control when they punish.”

 

“Right. Sure…”

 

“I use the term limited lightly. They will beat you to your knees then proceed to drag you through the village as an example to the other…slaves here. If you’re lucky, IF that is where the punishment will end. If I were to stop them then the others who now reside with me would be likewise punished and I WON’T stand for that. Now come. We must depart quickly.”

 

As they continued on Jack heard several whispers among the crowd, soft mutterings of the scarred one rent the air around him. It wasn’t until the man with him stopped to purchase food when he realized that the whispers were about his new “master”. He watched the man with the woman noting that he was very courteous and friendly. He was gazing at her still with the cloak pulled over his face concealing it from anyone but her. As he finished his purchase he turned lowering his head a bit before continuing on.

 

As Jack followed he sensed that the man who had purchased him held many secrets, some that involved a need to blend in, disappear, go unnoticed in a crowd. He noticed that though he tried to blend in many whispers still flooded the air, hushed whispers of the “scarred one” that peaked his curiosity and breathed life into his determination to find out why his “master” was addressed as such.

 

After they left the village Jack felt relaxed enough to talk so he questioned, “Why do they call you the scarred one?”

 

He observed the slightest little shuffle in the man beside him and wondered how sensitive the issue was then remembered the man was his new “master” and felt less guilty for prying.

 

Silence fell between them stretching until his “master” broke it with a soft reply, “It’s not important though the answer is quite obvious.”

 

“You have scars? On your face?”

 

Silence returned. Nothing. The man gave no reply, nothing so Jack continued to pursue the issue receiving no further answer to his inquiries. Deciding to let the subject rest for the moment he continued to follow noticing that as they put more and more distance between them and the town his master seemed to relax more. He was still highly alert but somewhat more relaxed. Interesting.

 

As they approached his new home all Jack could do was gape at the sight before him. They were in Egypt, but the man’s home was huge. As his initial surprise wore off he released an off-handed comment without realizing it, “And they say size doesn’t matter.”

 

He could swear that he heard a soft snort before the one with him replied, “I house a lot of people, Jack.”

 

“People? You mean slaves, right?”

 

He said nothing entering his home to be quickly approached by a young woman greeting with, “Master Daniel.”

 

Master Daniel? Oh hell no! No way was he going to address the man as…

 

“Layla, you don’t need to address me as master…”

 

“Oh hush! Give me your cloak.”

 

Daniel hesitantly yielded, handing it to her as he said, “This is Jack. Jack this is Layla. Please treat her with kindness and respect. She does much more than is expected of her and is a great cook to bat.”

 

“Oh you…”

 

She blushed before playfully batting Daniel’s arm. Jack stared in stunned silence when he saw Daniel’s face finally uncovered. Shit, the man was beautiful! And he looked so damned innocent!

 

He shook his head as Daniel turned towards him, blushing when he realized that both were looking at him expectantly. He cleared his throat before saying, “Uh sorry… I’m sorry.”

 

Daniel shook his head before replying “Layla will show you to your room. She’ll also show you around. We eat at 5 pm. Please don’t be late. I’m sure the others would love to meet you and tardiness is frowned upon.”

 

He scowled at Daniel in response, waiting for correction when Daniel’s only response was, “Where’s Jacob?”

 

“In the fields… Um Daniel you’re not going to…?”

 

“Help him? Yes.”

 

“Daniel that’s not…”

 

“I don’t care.”

 

“But…”

 

Daniel smiled saying, “Stop worrying. I’ll be fine.”

 

“You’ll be…? DANIEL!”

 

Instead of answering he turned and headed outside. Jack stared at her in question with a ‘what was that’ expression on his face. Her only reply was, “Stubborn man. Stubborn pig-headed man! He’ll end up hurting himself one of these days!”

 

Curious now Jack couldn’t help but question, “What’s he doing?”

 

“Going to work in the fields with Jacob.”

 

Jack raised his eyebrows in shock as he stifled laughter, “Him? Work in the fields?”

 

“Yes. The stubborn man doesn’t know how to take a break, relax and BE a sheik.”

 

Jack chuckled prompting Layla to ask, “Why is that so funny?”

 

“He’s too soft. He’d never…”

 

Feeling irritated and angry she jerked her gaze towards their newest resident saying, “Master Daniel is anything but soft! When something needs done he does it. He’s not your normal sheik, but of course you’re new so you haven’t learned that yet. Come I’ll show you to your living quarters…”

 

Feeling properly chastised by the woman he lowered his gaze and followed her to his living quarters. Once there she smiled informing, “If they’re too small or you don’t care for them please let me know and we’ll get you another room.”

 

“Uh thank…thank you, ma’me.”

 

“Layla. You can call me Layla. Now why don’t you make yourself at home and I’ll come check on you in a little while. All right?”

 

“Yes ma’me.”

 

She left and he slowly eased the door open expecting to find a poorly kept room but as he pushed the door open he gaped. This? This was his room? What? There had to be some kind of mistake, had to be. No slave master gave a servant a room like this.

 

As he gazed around the room he noticed it was very clean. It was painted a shade of calming blue and came complete with curtains, carpet and a bed. This was no slave’s room this…this was…it was…

 

He shook his head entering the room walking around looking at the paintings on the walls and the nick knacks scattered about. He noticed a door off to the left and opened it shocked to see that beyond it was a bathroom complete with a tub and sink. He couldn’t believe it only able to stare and jumping when Layla spoke, “Is the room all right Jack or shall I find you another?”
 

“Another? This…this…”

 

“Is your room, if you would like it. Daniel doesn’t mind if you decide to remove paintings or rearrange things. Sheets are cleaned every Wednesday and towels are handed out weekly. If you need any extra supplies ask one of us and we’ll get it. If we don’t have it here Daniel will make another trip to town.”

 

“Daniel will? Who’s…?”

 

“Daniel is the one who purchased you.”

 

“Oh, oh right. But this… I don’t understand.”

 

“This house has many rooms. Daniel furnished them and made them into bedrooms. He wanted those who live here to have some privacy. Of course meals are always eaten together and we all share in the workload. Several of us cook. He runs the place like a bed and breakfast only…”

 

“Why?”

 

“He knows what it is like to be without privacy, without a place to call home so he endeavored to make this place like the home he never had for himself. We’re more of a family than a…”

 

“Slave house?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Right. I don’t believe you.”

 

“Not yet but you will. You will.”

 

With that said she smiled and left the room with a reminder that supper was at five. Then left him to get situated in his new place of residence.

 

                                                          * *

Daniel decided to visit Jack to see how he was settling in. He knocked on the door and smiled when Jack opened it speaking softly, “Sorry for the interruption but I wanted to make certain you’re settling in well. Do you like the room?”

 

“Um yeah…”

 

“But?”

 

Shaking his head Jack merely uttered, “It’s um, isn’t it a bit extravagant for a slave?”

 

“No.”

 

“It’s a bit much.”

 

Daniel grinned replying “Well it sure beats a room with a dirt floor and rags for a bed.”

 

“Yeah but…why?”

 

“Why?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Because this is a home Jack and I won’t have anyone staying in unfavorable conditions. Everyone deserves privacy, a place to call their own, a room to call their own. Everyone.”

 

“But I…”

 

“You don’t understand.”

 

Jack’s only response was to nod. Daniel smiled shyly as he continued, “You don’t need to understand, Jack, just accept what I’m offering you.”

 

“No. Why would…?”

 

“Because I want to, Jack.”

 

“But…”

 

Daniel shook his head saying, “If you need anything please don’t hesitate to let one of us know. I’ll see you at supper.”

 

“But…”

 

Cutting Jack off in mid-question Daniel added, “Supper is at five,” before leaving the room and Jack still wondering about the man who now owned him.  

 

 

Next:  

 

  PART 2  

 

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