Read Online The Copper Horse #1 Fear by K.A. Merikan - Free Book Online
Authors: K.A. Merikan
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black told the guard before moving away and swiftly exiting the room without another look at Reuben. Gone like a summer storm.
"Me?" Reuben choked out in disbelief, noticing another prisoner scowl next to him.
"Why does he fucking choose the half-brain Paddy?" snarled one of the other prisoners, his voice shaking.
"I'm not Ir—" Reuben was interrupted by the guard, who walked over to Reuben and detached him from the chain.
"It's not the brains he's interested in. Mooray!" he shouted with a snarl.
A short fat man rushed into the room, wobbling on his feet. "Yes, sir?"
"Prepare him for Bluefinger. He wants all parasites gone." He shoved Reuben into Mooray's general direction and gave him one more disapproving look. "Cherish what you got, knobhead, or you'll see me sooner than you think."
He didn't have to repeat that, and Reuben was quick to approach Mooray. From what he gathered, it was safe to assume he was to become a servant. Whatever his status might be, any work was better than fighting zombies in the Pit of the Dead. And he was getting rid of lice? Lucky day!
When they left the room, he could still hear the sound of the guard's commanding voice, but Mooray yanked him by the short chain attached to his collar, leading him back into the corridor. "Lucky one, eh? Saved by the Bluefinger."
His voice didn't sound pleasant, but the words were reassuring. Reuben was ready to labor hard, but the thought that he might be doing some kind of coal mining or, even worse, work in the woods made him cringe in fear. Then again, if this 'Bluefinger' wanted Reuben to be healthy and have no lice, than he had to be a good master. At least that was what he chose to believe.
"Yes, I suppose so."
"How much d'ya owe them anyway?" Mooray seemed keen to talk, which was a nice change after the other guard.
"I owe nothing to nobody. Except my father I suppose, but he deserves it," he rambled on, nervously picking on the short chain of his shackles.
Mooray furrowed his eyebrows, giving him a skeptical look. "Then what're ya doin' here?"
"I don't know," Reuben confessed after a moment of silence. "I got betrayed, I suppose."
Mooray coughed, knocking on a low wooden door and entering without waiting for an answer. The room was as simple as the others, although here the window was much larger. Reuben looked at it with curiosity now that he was safe, and he swallowed at the sight of an amphitheater made of wood. There was a medium-sized, circular arena about seven feet below them, and above it, he could see several rows of benches, which were now slowly filling up with a loud crowd. A chill ran down his spine at the sudden realization that all those people were here to watch the undead feasting on defenseless victims.
"So who is that man in black?" Reuben tried to distract himself from looking outside.
"Man in black?" someone said behind him, but before he could look around, Mooray was joined by a young, bearded man who examined Reuben's naked body with a pleased smile.
"The younger Mr. Dal," Mooray said absently.
Beardy shrugged at Mooray's answer. "Hands up." He jumped up to grab a thick rope hanging from a hook in the ceiling.
"Why?" Reuben tensed up again but complied, lifting his arms toward the hook. He could imagine it was a good position for all kinds of torture, and he didn't like that thought one bit.
"'Cause I can smell lice and fleas on you." Beardy laughed, easily securing Reuben's arms above his head. Mooray was sniffing the contents of some vials standing on a table that was the only piece of furniture in the room.
"People don't have fleas." Reuben pouted, not appreciating the position at all.
"Shut up, you old hack," said Beardy.
Mooray returned with a jar and a broad paintbrush. "Get me a cap, will ya?"
"What are you doing?" Reuben felt unpleasantly exposed.
"Gettin' rid of the nasty stuff in ya hair." Mooray dipped the brush in a thick, white fluid which he then applied to Reuben's head. It smelled sour and
"Me?" Reuben choked out in disbelief, noticing another prisoner scowl next to him.
"Why does he fucking choose the half-brain Paddy?" snarled one of the other prisoners, his voice shaking.
"I'm not Ir—" Reuben was interrupted by the guard, who walked over to Reuben and detached him from the chain.
"It's not the brains he's interested in. Mooray!" he shouted with a snarl.
A short fat man rushed into the room, wobbling on his feet. "Yes, sir?"
"Prepare him for Bluefinger. He wants all parasites gone." He shoved Reuben into Mooray's general direction and gave him one more disapproving look. "Cherish what you got, knobhead, or you'll see me sooner than you think."
He didn't have to repeat that, and Reuben was quick to approach Mooray. From what he gathered, it was safe to assume he was to become a servant. Whatever his status might be, any work was better than fighting zombies in the Pit of the Dead. And he was getting rid of lice? Lucky day!
When they left the room, he could still hear the sound of the guard's commanding voice, but Mooray yanked him by the short chain attached to his collar, leading him back into the corridor. "Lucky one, eh? Saved by the Bluefinger."
His voice didn't sound pleasant, but the words were reassuring. Reuben was ready to labor hard, but the thought that he might be doing some kind of coal mining or, even worse, work in the woods made him cringe in fear. Then again, if this 'Bluefinger' wanted Reuben to be healthy and have no lice, than he had to be a good master. At least that was what he chose to believe.
"Yes, I suppose so."
"How much d'ya owe them anyway?" Mooray seemed keen to talk, which was a nice change after the other guard.
"I owe nothing to nobody. Except my father I suppose, but he deserves it," he rambled on, nervously picking on the short chain of his shackles.
Mooray furrowed his eyebrows, giving him a skeptical look. "Then what're ya doin' here?"
"I don't know," Reuben confessed after a moment of silence. "I got betrayed, I suppose."
Mooray coughed, knocking on a low wooden door and entering without waiting for an answer. The room was as simple as the others, although here the window was much larger. Reuben looked at it with curiosity now that he was safe, and he swallowed at the sight of an amphitheater made of wood. There was a medium-sized, circular arena about seven feet below them, and above it, he could see several rows of benches, which were now slowly filling up with a loud crowd. A chill ran down his spine at the sudden realization that all those people were here to watch the undead feasting on defenseless victims.
"So who is that man in black?" Reuben tried to distract himself from looking outside.
"Man in black?" someone said behind him, but before he could look around, Mooray was joined by a young, bearded man who examined Reuben's naked body with a pleased smile.
"The younger Mr. Dal," Mooray said absently.
Beardy shrugged at Mooray's answer. "Hands up." He jumped up to grab a thick rope hanging from a hook in the ceiling.
"Why?" Reuben tensed up again but complied, lifting his arms toward the hook. He could imagine it was a good position for all kinds of torture, and he didn't like that thought one bit.
"'Cause I can smell lice and fleas on you." Beardy laughed, easily securing Reuben's arms above his head. Mooray was sniffing the contents of some vials standing on a table that was the only piece of furniture in the room.
"People don't have fleas." Reuben pouted, not appreciating the position at all.
"Shut up, you old hack," said Beardy.
Mooray returned with a jar and a broad paintbrush. "Get me a cap, will ya?"
"What are you doing?" Reuben felt unpleasantly exposed.
"Gettin' rid of the nasty stuff in ya hair." Mooray dipped the brush in a thick, white fluid which he then applied to Reuben's head. It smelled sour and
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