Spring had gone by in a blur of busy days, bruises of violet hues and empty stomach once in a while if fortune decided to abandon her and hand her fate over to her master's disposal.
And with uncertainties plugging her mind, she was not fortunate to the bone.
She tried to forget. She really did, but the foreboding sense of dread she felt when they sent off her master's lover had not leave her mind. It was there... like a constant warning that something unfortunate would befall upon them.
She'd momentarily forgot about it during morning, yet, when she laid on the comforts of her bed at night, it would come crawling back to her, resurfacing like a stubborn itch.
So, naturally, sleep had been hard to catch these days. It made her awake at nights and sleep-deprived the next morning.
She was unfortunate but if there was someone with the most unfortunate circumstances than her, that would be Markka.
She felt pity for the poor girl.
For the past months that had gone, Markka was not sold. There were customers who came to the store, took a glance at her direction, some even talked to her, but then, at the end, they all ignored her afterwards.
Physically, Markka was not ugly. Although her body was average, she was pretty. However, her fearful demeanor probably discouraged the customers into buying her. Yes, they wanted submissive slaves but probably not the type who shake like a leaf on a twig upon introducing oneself. She would not even pass as a working slave. Her thin limbs would not endure the heavy task.
Her master was definitely not the happiest man and there was no lover who could appease the bad taste of Markka's failure this time.
Mercy was not given and bruises littered Markka's body in a hue of orange and violet. The girl was starved, maybe thrice in a week depending on the master's mood. Most time of the time, he would hit her while spewing curses.
They all turned a blind eye, a deaf ear just to sleep, but Markka's cries of pain did not help with her sleepless nights. Her master would even shout and ordered Markka to silence her mouth or he'd do it himself like what he mostly did usually.
Tonight as well, the master hit Markka and spit on her face. "Useless!"
Every single one of them had fled to the back to eat their meal in peace amidst the yelling of their master and grunts of pain from Markka.
When the beating had stop, everyone had finished eating. They all cleaned the tablewares and retired for the night without any much fuss. She, on the other hand, relieved her bladder first before marching to her quarter quietly. Well, it was quiet, except for Markka's sobs across the dim light.
Sighing, she scratched her covered head in annoyance and decided to take a turn. She was not one to interfere at other people's problem, but it wouldn't hurt if she gave the girl a piece of advice.
When she reached Markka's cage, she leaned and called the girl, "Markka," her voice a whisper.
The girl ceased her sobbing and turned to her. She could faintly see the wetness of her cheeks.
"Stop crying. If you do not, you would anger the master again. Please, it is for your own sake," she warned her. It's the least she could do, for Markka and for herself.
"Nameless?" Markka whimpered.
Confused, she tilted her head and frowned. "Name...less? Did you just call me nameless?"
Markka nodded. "Yes. Not a single person has call you by your name yet, even master. Not once, did I hear it being spoken. The other slaves... they call you the slave who barely spoke, the slave without a name -- nameless..." she sniffed and rubbed her nose with her arms. "So... I call you nameless, too. Are you..." she paused, thinking if she should really ask such inquiry. Her curiosity won anyhow. "Are you really without a name?"
Names were not significant to slaves. It was as unimportant as their lives.
She stared closely at Markka's face, noticing the swelling area near the corners of her mouth. She shook her head. "There are plenty of rumors about me so it seems. However, I have a name, but I am not allowed to impart it to anyone's knowledge," she stood up and back away. She spared a glanced to the master's chamber. "You better heed my warning, Markka. If you want to live, you need to be obedient... be creative."
"Creative... how?" Markka asked.
A sigh of resignation left her lips. "For the love of Gods, are you that naive, Markka?" she crouched back and stared at the young girl. "How long have you been a slave?"
Markka looked down briefly before staring at the dark, fiddling with her fingers. "T-Two springs ago..."
"What happened then?" she urged although she had already guess what happened to Markka.
"I am a daughter of a fisherman. Only child. We were poor. My mother left us. No land and could not afford a dowry. When he died, I was immediately taken to slavery to pay his debts."
Payment to debts, of course, she thought.
"That explains the naivety, but that is not an excuse. I'm afraid that one day, it will be the reason to your demise. Listen, you need to learn... quick, or else you will suffer than you are now."
From the cage, Markka grabbed her wrist. "Teach me!"
"Quiet," she warned, her face contorting in pain at the vice grip on her wrist. "Let me go," she demanded.
"Please..." Markka broke down again, her grip loosening. "Are we not the same?"
Her patience snapped. She was not aggressive but Markka was not understanding it.
This time, she grabbed Markka's wrist, her gaze hardening in firm resolution. "You want to learn?"
When Markka did not reply, she tightened her grip and shook the girl, finally getting her attention. "Do you want to learn?" she phrased once again. Each word spoken with emphasis.
When Markka nodded, she released her wrist. "Then, the first step to learning is to cease your crying and accept your fate," her voice was harsh. "That is the only way to suffer less."
Markka only stared at her. The tears stained her cheeks once more. With that, she left Markka to ponder over her words or to wallow on her misery.
As she closed the drapes, her heart and lids felt heavy. Thankfully, sleep had consumed her consciousness.
The next morning, news of an unexpected return had took them all by surprise, especially, her master.
Upon hearing the return, her master had the look of a happy other half that's been waiting for his beloved, however, it did not last for long and her master's expression morphed, mirroring her own confused one.
He stared at her anxiously and she did the same. They both have a bad feeling about this yet neither of them voiced out their concern.
The journey to the river of Dnieper was not easy and definitely not short.
From Staraya Ladoga, they would cross Lake Ilmen. Onwards, they would pass plenty of river channels, going upstream and downstream before they reached their destination.
Her master had picked servants to accompany him to the harbor and she was fortunate enough to be left at the store to keep guard.
Although she was as curious as the others, she didn't like the idea of seeing the viking again, or vikings to be exact since he had a twin and both have a bad temper if she may add.
She stood next to Markka's wooden cage. She remembered their exchange last night and how harsh she had acted. She wanted to apologize but Markka beat her to it first.
"I apologize for how I... acted last night. I am deeply sorry," Markka started, her eyes showing her sincerity.
She stared at her out of surprise before shaking her head. "It is fine. I was also harsh last night."
"I... I am serious about it," Markka casted her eyes down as if ashamed.
She stared at Markka. "About what?"
"To learn. I do not want to suffer."
She shook her head. "I have nothing to teach you, Markka. You have to learn everything by experiencing it yourself. Besides, the only lesson you need to learn is obedience. Masters expect nothing from us but obedience. And Markka..." she stared directly to Markka's eyes. "Suffering is tied to the souls of slaves. Our body is not our own... our decisions... our life... Remember that."
Markka did not say anything afterwards and both of them remained silent.
They both stared in silence as one of the slaves that their master brought along to the harbor came back looking like he had been soaked in ice cold water by how his complexion had gotten pale. Behind him, Nankov trailed, his expression grim.
She noticed Markka inching close towards her. "So... what is the commotion?"
She averted her eyes away from Nankov and stared at Markka's black pools of curious eyes. Bruises covered the corners of her mouth. Patches of blue and violet could be seen peeking from the holes on her ragged dress.
"Remember the master's friend?" she started, helping Markka to remember the friend of their master.
Markka nodded, "Yes."
She continued, "He had travel to the river of Dnieper first month of the spring and now he had returned."
Markka's eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Oh... then why is their expression grim? Should we not feel happy about it?"
She shook her head at Markka's naivety. "You do not understand. He was supposed to return at the end of the fall. He came back too early. Something must have happen."
"Is it not a good thing to come home early? Maybe he had sold all his commodities that is why he had returned earlier than what was expected."
She admired Markka's naivety.
That could happen but a nameless, neophyte who's not even a proper merchant. A babe in the field of silver tongue and deceit would not accomplish such fits. Not even with her master's help.
When Nankov emerged from the back, she approached him. "Nankov..." she called in a whisper.
The said man turned to her. Worry etched his features and now, she was certain something bad had happened. "Did the master's friend returned safely?"
He looked behind her and saw Markka's body leaning towards, eavesdropping on their conversation.
"Should we take this conversation in private?" she offered.
He shook his head. "No, it is fine. Everyone will bound to know."
He sighed, "About your question earlier... the answer is yes."
"Yes," she repeated and waited for him to continue. The way his eyes dart everywhere, unfocused and anxious told her there was something more.
She waited for Nankov to calm down and when he did, he exhaled loudly, "Their boats were attacked. They were caught by surprise."
"That's unfortunate."
Attacking boats boarded by merchants were common in the trade routes.
"The other boat was destroyed. None of the goods were lost but five of the varangians' slaves were lost."
By Varangians, he meant the vikings.
"None of the goods were lost. I assume the master is relieve then?" she asked.
She could already imagine herself enduring the nights and days to come. With her master's lover back in the store, she would be cleaning his chambers that smelled of unknown stink for the upcoming days.
"The master? Yes, but the vikings..." Nankov stared at her. Realization hit her.
They lost five of their slaves so it was only natural for them to be angry.
"No..." she finished Nankov's sentence. A sense of dread filled her body, making her tremble. She forced a step and stumble forward. She caught herself before she slumped to the ground.
"The vikings were asking for a compensation," Nankov added.
She felt nauseous. "A life for life..."
"Yes... a slave for a slave," he agreed.
"What is the master's opinion on this?" she clenched her fingers to stop them from trembling.
She feared for Nankov's answer but it was inevitable. "The master agreed and he will let the twins to choose for themselves."
At that moment, the door opened and her heart dropped as familiar faces strolled in.
Her master gestured at her. "Gather all of your fellow slaves here. Now."