Young Writers Society

The man that came through the door with Omeloren had darkened skin, even darker than that of the Dunmer. Do’amha had heard a few of the guards call them Redguards, though that meant little to him. He was dressed in elegant clothes, similar to those worn by Omeloren, and walked with his hands clasped behind his back.Omeloren would babble on about his training methods and the use of punishment and reward to keep the slaves in line.

The Redguard paused outside of Do’amha’s cage with an intrigued expression.

“Ah yes,” Omeloren smiled. “My best slave of them all. He is truly one of a kind, even for a Khajiit.”

“This is the one that I saw fight the troll a week ago isn’t it?” the Redguard asked.

“Yes it is. He is a proverbial golden goose as it were.”

“What’s his name?”

“I believe the slaves call him Do’amha. A rather brutish name if I ever heard one.”

“You there, slave,” the Redguard called to Do’amha. Turning to the Redguard, he was motioned closer. “Let me get a look at you.”

“I don’t think that is wise, Limion,” Omeloren said as Do’amha began to stalk closer to the Redguard. Maybe he could use him as leverage to get out of this cage. Just a few more steps and he would have the dark skinned man in his claws.

“Even after seeing what happened in the arena, I doubt that he is as much of a hell cat in here.” Do’amha nearly froze in place. When he was called a ‘hell cat’ the Redguard turned to him with a knowing gaze. Do’amha’s head tilted, ever so slightly, in confusion as he slowly understood what it meant.

When he reached the bars of the cage, he gently set his clawed hands on the bars, making no move to harm the Redguard.

“Show me your teeth, slave.” Do’amha slowly opened his maw, revealing the yellowed row of fangs within. “I can see how he ripped the throat of that guard. Very dangerous. You blunt their claws, why not their teeth?”

“Do you want to stick your fingers in there to dull them? With these animals, you are likely to come up one short.”

Do’amha closed his mouth as the Redguard began turning his head this way and that to look at his jawline and fur pattern. “He has a good coat,” Limion mentioned. “Put your hands out of the cage.”

Do’amha complied without complaint, pressing his shoulders against the bars as his arms were inspected. Limion began to test his muscle, squeezing them from his shoulder down his arms.

“You feed him well I see.”

“If you don’t keep your best in good shape then he won’t stay the best,” Omeloren replied.

“If I had my pick of the litter,” Limion said as he began looking over Do’amha’s wrapped hands. “I would choose this one as the stud for my stock. For the right price of course.”

Omeloren was too distracted with the talk of coin, that he didn’t see when Limion slipped something into Do’amha’s wraps. Do’amha didn’t even see it, but he felt the object press against his skin beneath the cloth.

“Well, I'm sure that we can set a time for my men to bring him to your plantation for breeding.  I don't like having my merchandise out over night.  I'm sure you understand,” Omeloren sneered.

“Would probably be best to start him off with that black furred one that you sold me earlier. He seemed to have a certain liking to that one.” Limion gave him a quick glance – a subtle signal – to cement the notion in Do’amha’s head. “Or maybe I’ll start her off with one of my own studs.”

If he really is with Karliah, I have to play this up, Do’amha thought. He slammed against the cage doors with a dangerous growl as he swiped at Limion, who quickly ducked away. His eyes turned to Omeloren as he spat out, “You said she was mine!”

“I own all of you, slave!” Omeloren snapped back. “If I choose to sell your little bed warmer, then that is my decision. Perhaps you need another lesson in The Box?”

Do’amha flinched with a very real shudder of fear. “No…no Master Omeloren. No lesson is need.” He quickly retreated into the cage and sat in the corner, gripping his tail once again and began wringing it.

Limion touched a small line of blood on his cheek before he began chuckling. “Damn cat scratched me,” he said.

“Well I would normally have him punished, but I did warn you not to let him get so close.”

“That you did. It was my mistake. I forget sometimes how these things are more animal than person.”

“Would you like to end the tour?”

“No. No. I’m quite alright. Let’s continue. I am still in need of a stud for my Scale Backs.”

“Right this way,” Omeloren said leading them further into the slave pits.

When he was sure that they were gone, Do’amha fished out the object that had been slipped into his wraps. A piece of parchment, folded a few times, now rested in his paws. He quickly unfolded it and a small silver key fell out onto his breeches. Picking it up, he stared at it for a long moment. This is…he thought before looking to the door of his cage. He had seen this key a thousand times to open that very door.

Looking at the parchment he could see the rather elegant writing, written by someone that had spent some time with a tutor to create the fanciful lettering. It told him to wait for nightfall before heading to the north-most window in the arena.

“Karliah,” he said barely above a whisper. He jumped as the sound of Omeloren’s voice was growing closer. He quickly stuffed the small parchment into his mouth and started chewing.The ink tasted like dirt and the parchment was sticking to the roof of his mouth before he managed to swallow it. He slipped the key back into his wraps as Omeloren came into view with Limion right behind him.

The Redguard turned and looked directly at him before giving a very small nod and answering Omeloren’s question about his stock of slaves.

Looks like things are underway, Do’amha thought with a grin.