Chenga

New Fish

The heavy mist shifted about the quayside.  Nirgalen looked at the four ranks of prisoners.  They were divided on the basis of race.  K'Vathin and the crocodile jawed Turrah formed one line more than two score in number.  A twenty-strong gang of male and female Peytahns stood next to the lizard line.  A large pack of Verelag looked amazingly sleek, as if life on Chenga suited them.  The last line was a hotch-potch of Shaddan, Molemen, Trolls and a couple of female Mino-bultai, who were eying up the newly arrive male bull.  No humans were among the four lines.

Without a word being said, the Verelag, Shaddan and Mino-bultai moved off to join the different lines.  The Rock Troll, slowly ambled off to join the other Murga and Treaga.  All that remained by the quay were five humans, Nirgalen, Simarl, Eylana and the girl, Leyla.

It was then that Eylana turned to Nirgalen.  'Look after Leyla.'  Nirgalen was confused, then stunned, as Eylana strode off towards the Peytahns.

Four leaders emerged from the lines: a tall K'Vathin wearing a thick fur coat, a large Peytahn, a grey Verelag female, and an intense looking Shaddan.  The K'Vathin spoke.

'Eight new fisssssh... what sssay, we ssssplit them, two a piece?'  The K'Vathin eyed up the waiting humans, as if looking at food rather than living people.

'Hmmm, that one smells half dead.'  The large Peytahn pointed at Simarl.

Of the five humans, who huddled together, two were female and three male.  Nirgalen wondered what their crime had been, or whether they just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

'The clan of K'Marg will take the two femalesss, nice fat new fissssh.'  Again it was the K'Vathin who spoke.  With no word of protest, the women moved towards the K'Vathin.

'Yer welcome to 'em, they don't smell much better than that dying one.'  The Peytahn spat onto the quay.  'You, the fat one... and you the skinny one, here now!'  The three human men looked at each other, trying to decide who was fat and who was skinny... and who wanted to go to the Peytahn line.  'Now!!!'  Two of the men shuffled off towards the tall Peytahn, leaving a small, shifty looking character.

The female Verelag scented the air.  'Hmhh... those three are no good.  That one is dying, the little one and the other are diseased.'  As she said this, the Verelag gestured towards Simarl, Nirgalen and Leyla.  'They won't last long.  'Shaddan... what you say... we take the wiry sneak thief there and you keep the three useless ones.  Three for the price of one... and we can settle up when the next shipment comes in?'  The Verelag smiled a sleek feline smile.

The Shaddan laughed.  'You have such a way with words Puri.  I think we can do something about their sickness and their smell means little to us.  We'll take the three useless ones.'

The wiry little man scuttled towards the Verelag, with a look of uncertainty on his face.  With the Verelag he would need his wits about him, but perhaps he was best suited to their furtive ways.

The Shaddan approached Nirgalen.  'We will keep you alive, as long as we can.  Be thankful you're not with the K'Vathin!'  The Shaddan then yawned, revealing its long, coiled and viciously barbed tongue.  'Okay, let's feast!'

Night had fallen and the temperature on Chenga plummeted way below freezing.  The only shelter was in the mines of Atul-Kesh, where the spice was mined.  Deep shafts had been dug and, as they went deeper into the earth, thankfully the air warmed to a bearable level.

The mines were divided into four sections, so that the gangs and races were split.  That helped to avoid conflict.  Nirgalen had been amazed at how easily the four gangs had divided up the human slaves.  For slaves was what they now were.  Nirgalen surmised that human life expectancy here was not long.  Spice was a powerful narcotic when refined, but being surrounded continuously by raw spice was something else.