Lifeline
An original fiction by Travis J. DeSantis
Part One
It wasn't a particularly hot day, Kinjo thought. It was certainly muggy and the air was almost stagnant. What few winds did exist that day brought even more warmth. The unpleasentness factor was quite high. Especially when one is standing out in the open, waiting for an informant that may not come.
It was midday and Kinjo was waiting as patiently as he could in the town square of a moderately sized town called Ayaku. He was expecting to meet a man by the name of Loran. Kinjo was snoffing out the various slave traders across the continent hoping to squeeze the information he needed out of them. He was told by a bartender in Ciran that this man, Loran, had much knowledge about certain underground organizations and had arragned a meeting with him in this town.
Kinjo was very good at concentrating and could isolate his thoughts while still playing attention to his surroundings. But this time, his concentration was broken by an odd shuffling of feet that marked the peculiar gait of a partially lame man trying unsuccessfully to be cautious. Turning around as casually as possible, Kinjo was faced with a haggardly man of late middle age with glassy, bloodshot eyes that hinted at many late nights of drinking.
"Art thou the man known as Kinjo?" asked the man. He spoke in an archaic tongue with a slight slur.
"'Tis I, sir," Kinjo replied in kind. "Be I correct in assuming that thou art the infamous Loran?"
"Infamous," Loran proclaimed mockingly. "Hardly, good master. But, I would thank thee not to mock me so. I speak in such an ancient tongue only because I am a stubborn man too set in his ways."
"Forgive me, friend," replied Kinjo. "I didn't mean to offend you."
"No offense, good master."
"Actually, I would appreciate it if you didn't call me that. I'm...uncomfortable with titles."
"Of course, good ma...sir," he grinned.
"Now, shall we get down to business?"
"Not here, my friend. I am aware of a small pub with a back room where we can'st talk privately. Certain...businessmen employ hidden spies that mayest alert them of unwanted attention."
"I see how that could be inconvenient. Lead the way my good man."
~~~~~
"So, that's how it is," said Loran. He had just finished a naration of the basic organization of the local slave trade.
"They actually hold auctions?" Kinjo asked.
"Aye, different times, locations, and on an irregular basis."
"Then how do the buyers know where to go?" This all seemd very confusing to Kinjo.
"They are informed at the end of each auction. Any new buyers must seek out those whom already participate," Loran explained.
Kinjo had noticed that Loran had suspended his earlier form of speech, but he was too polite to point that out. It was probably a ruse to mislead potential enemies, so he considered it an honor that Loran trusted him enough to relax the accent. "That would be a good way to avoid the authorities. Seemingly random slave auctions would be near impossible to trace back to the operator."
"Aye."
"Loran, would you happen to know when and where the next auction is going to be held?"
"Not as such, but I can find out for you."
"Would that take terribly long?"
"Perhaps. I noticed a regular at a table on out way in, but I cannot guarantee he will cooperate. I'll see what I can do." At that, Loran got unsteadily out of his chair and left the tiny room, closing the door behind him. Kinjo didn't hace the time to grow impatient, for the informant returned within the hour. "Majek's square sometime after midnight," he announced. He sat down, a tankard of ale in his bony hand. He gulped it down quickly and set down the mug, visibly relaxing as the spirits took affect.
"Thank you, but why is it being held in a square? Isn't that a bit public?" he asked skeptically.
"Majek's square is really just an empty cul-de-sc in the middle of the slums. The area is a labyrinth, be sure not to get lost."
"I appreciate your help, Loran." As he shook the man's hand, he pressed a few coins into his palm. It wasn't really a lot, but surely enough for a few more tankards of the pub's watered-down ale. "Have a good night," he smiled.
"Indeed I will, sir. And good luck to you," he replied as Kinjo made is way out.
~~~~~
Majek's square was just as depressing as Kinjo anticipated, if not more so. The odor of filth and decay hung in the smokey air. Grime-covered boards and tattered awnings made the sky was almost invisible and even the beautiful scarlet light of dusk could not pierce the gloom of the slums.
Kinjo was waiting, yet again, off to the side in the shadows. It wasn't any more comfortable here than it was in the public square that afternoon. Kinjo reflected on just how much his patience was being tried recently. He was so deeply absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the sudden activity taking place. Various men and women were making their way into the area. All kinds of people were present: he respected were mixed in with the seedy and Kinjo could've sworn he recognized a couple of them from the market he stopped by this morning.
As all this was happening, another man was entering the 'square' from a hidden room. He was short and stocky with a smug expression on his face, but he had a commanding manner about him. Behind him followed a larger, muscular man with a black leather mask. He had a broad sword belted at his side and was holding a chain in his right hand. The chain was attached to shackles worn around the neck, wrists, and ankles of a young girl. She was probably in her early teens and--despite her filth--was radiently beautiful. She wore a simple homspun dress and a tattered shawl. Delicate eyebrows were furrowed slightly and tiny, pursed lips quavered under her emerald green eyes which were wet with tears. She whimpered as the large man gave her a push forward, a lock of dirty auburn hair falling in front of her face.
"Greetings to all," proclaimed the stocky man. "Let's make this fast, I have other business to attend to tonight. The girl's name is Ryae. She is fourteen years old and as been a slave for eight years. In the pastm, she has proven herself to be excellent with children and has a certain talent for both cooking and sewing."
"Has she any...intimate experience?" inquired a particularly obese man. He wore fancy robes and much jewelry, but the sleazy look on his greasy, pock-marked face didn't inspire much faith.
"Don't draw me into your perversion, Lord Dukus."
"Oh come now," pleaded the dsgusting noble. "I was just asking." However, the expression of lust on his face as he eyed the frightened girl was revolting. Kinjo was quickly learning to dislike this man.
"None, alright?" he stated crossly. "Now for the bidding."
"100 gold crowns!" Lord Dukus cried immediately.
There were a few muttered oaths and more than a few out-right swears. Obviously, no one else could pay more than that. Some people even stormed out in frustration.
"Thank you oh so much for not wasting my valuable time, Dukus," the slave trader growled with obvious sarcasm.
"You're quite welcome," the greasy noble said smugly.
The patrons were filingout of the area as Dukus was finalizing his purchase. Kinjo resolved to get information from this man, though the decision was made with more than a bit of vehement anger. He was careful not to be seen and despite the white clothes he normally wore, Kinjo hid well withing the shadows. At last, Dukus mase his way out, the girl in tow. Kinjo tailed the pair and he cursed when Dukus met up with a pair of burly accomplices. He had to quickly revise his plan.
"You there, boy!" he called quietly. The child was dressed similarly to Ryae, with the addition of pants. Even though he appeared to be no more than 10, the wily look of a trickster was apparent in his face. He eyed Kinjo suspiciously, but said nothing. "Lok, see that fat man with the girl in chains?"
"Yeah, what about it?"
"I want you to steal his purse."
"What is in it for me?" he demanded.
"Gold and jewels I'd assume," Kinjo said thoughtfully.
It took a second for that to register. "Okay, what's the catch?"
"I want you to draw away the two bigger men. Can you run fast?"
"Are you kidding? No one can catch me!" To prove it, the boy dashed off and barreled into Dukus, knocking him into a mud puddle and stealing his purse in the process. The fat noble screamed at his bodyguards to chase the boy and Kinjo quitely congratulaed the boy. He was about to move in when Dukus, obviously too impatient to wait for his enderlings to return, dragged Ryae into a run down tavern. Kinjo swore and hurried after them.
The inside of the tavern was surprisingly well kept and had certain, modern facilities one wouldn't expect in the slums. The clientel left something to be desired however. There were a lot of drunkards, more than are usually expected, and off to the side were a group of scruffy men resembling warriors. Kinjo barely noticed Dukus and Ryae flying up the stairs. He swept past th unsavory folk and up the staircase after them, finding a small hallway with some rooms. It didn't take long to find which they had entered as he heard the girl's screams before even opening any doors. He cautiously eased open the rickety door, praying it didn't creak, and peaked inside. Dukus was unsuccessfully struggling to undress Ryae. Surprisingly, she put up quite a good fight considering she was shackled.
Kinjo shrugged and flung open the door, stepping inside quite casually. "Lord Dukus I presume."
"What the!? What are you doing here!?" he screeched. "Get out, now!!"
"I think now, my Lord," he replied, emphasizing the title with contempt. "You know something that I need to know."
"What are you talking about? Go away, commoner! Don't you see I'm too important to be bothered?"
Quite suddenly, Kinjo launched across the room at a startling speed. Dukus had no time to react as Kinjo's knee dug sharply into his side. The cry of pain that erupted from the fat man's lips was that of pure agony.
"Ready to cooperate now?" Kinjo demanded. Dukus was doubled over on the floor, clutching at the enormous bruise already visible in his flabby side, groaning like he was dying. "I'll take that as a yes."
