II

They had been travelling for days as Frieda's fingers curled loosely around one of the bars and stared out through half-closed eyes at the forests around them, imagining that she could see herself slipping through the bars and darting off into the distance. That dream however slipped further away with every hole the carriage wheels caught, jolting her back into the real world where guards walked beside the carriage and horses walked behind them ladened down with various treasures and supplies.

Her parched tongue darted out to touch her sore, split lips as she saw a guard drinking from an animal skin. She had learnt that asking for water led to quick but hard hit around the head.

Turning away from the hope of the forest and the tactless guard, Frieda's head lolled heavily on her shoulders as she glanced at those around her. Eoghan was sat beside her and he saw her despair.

"You shall be okay," Eoghan reached across and took her hand in his, "I'll protect you."

Frieda looked down at where their hands touched and she felt her heart give a heavy sigh, knowing that she was no alone. She thought about how she and Eoghan had been playing in the fields in Britannica a few weeks earlier, not really worrying about the other, whereas now all they had was each other.

Fatigue and hunger seeped into her muscles as the carriage rolled on, morning turning into afternoon, when they heard a shout up ahead.

She did not understand their words and began to dismiss it automatically when she noted the expression on Bradan's face change. He shifted closer to the bars from where he was sat opposite her and looked up ahead. It was the most life that any of them had shown since leaving the city.

"I can see a building," Bradan told them, shoving his hair out of his eyes, "It's very large, with a high wall."

Frieda craned her neck over her shoulder to look but there was no space for her to turn and her muscles protested at the sudden movement. Sitting back, she tried to imagine it instead but her imagination was lacking and her energy had left her. The other people began to stir from their own thoughts as they heard Bradan speak; detailing what could possibly be their new home. The carriage rolled on and Frieda thought that they must have surely passed the building by now when she felt the horses upfront begin to slow and there followed some more shouting.

Bradan's cheek was pressed against the bar as he stared out eagerly, "We are approaching the doors."

Frieda's heart began to beat a little faster as she turned to Eoghan and they shared a look of apprehension between them.

"The doors are opening," Bradan relayed and everyone began to shift uneasily, apprehensive of what their future held for them when the guard beside them hit the side of the bars with his wooden spear, pushing Bradan back. Frieda flinched away from the bars as they began to roll forward once more.

Everyone's eyes were looking outward as they passed through the doors and beneath a wall as thick as she was tall. After days of staring out at dark forests and muddy ground Frieda was forced to squint as the sunlight glared painfully off of a yellow stone floor.

People were speaking around them but she was transfixed by her new surroundings when she heard the unmistakeable sound of the doors being shut, trapping them inside, before the back of the carriage was opened and the steps set up once more for them to disembark.

As the hatch at the back was wrenched open, they could see a guard on either side waving them out. Their faces were thick and brutish, their lips opened wide as they shouted at them. Frieda had been the first to enter which meant she would be the last to leave as she waited for everyone else and, despite the fact that she had already been in there for days, as she saw everyone else leaving the putrid air inside the cage began to suffocate her.

She let out a small sob of pain as she started to move. Her knees cracked as she shifted onto all fours, her muscles protesting as her fingers slipped through the fresh layers of muck on the carriage floor. As she gripped the outside of the door, Frieda hoisted herself up but her legs wobbled and she nearly fell down the steps.

Quivering from their sudden use, Frieda's legs hurried down the steps but as she regained her balance her eyes were drawn upwards towards the sky as she found herself confronted with a large wall. It was higher than any wall she had ever seen, nearly the collective height of four grown men, and it seemed to touch the sky. Turning her head, Frieda followed the length of the wall to the corner but she could not see where the rest of the second wall led to as it disappeared behind another smaller brick wall.

Wiping her hands on the rags she wore, she felt something small and hard press against the centre of her back and pushed her into line behind Eoghan. Looking behind her she saw a guard lowering his spear when he moved and she spotted a handful of guards lifting a heavy length of wood across the doors before they left, leaving two men stood on watch. As she looked back she saw that Eoghan had seen it too, his blue eyes watching curiously.

The line began to move and they were led through a gap between two stone pillars and inside the second, smaller but still substantial brick wall which she had seen. As a thin layer of sand grazed her bare feet, they were led to the left and Frieda almost froze from what she saw then. Around them, men and women were walking about freely but from the state of their clothes, or maybe just because she was one of them now, Frieda knew they were slaves.

Huddled into small groups or stood alone, they watched in earnest as Frieda and the others were led past though Frieda noted the lack of chains around their wrists and ankles. Not wishing to stare at them for too long, Frieda looked to her right and spotted a large square patch of green grass with two long cylindrical wooden posts in the ground about ten feet apart. The grass was bordered by wide paths of yellow stone on which she now walked. Whilst on the other side of the path were rows of stone cells which lined each side of the courtyard. The doors, made from thick wood, were flung open but it was too dark inside for her to see anything.

As she tried to peer inside one of them Frieda felt something shove hard against her shoulder, knocking her back out of line. Gasping, Frieda's hand reached up to hold her shoulder as she looked behind her and saw a girl not much older than she was. A strange grimace lay upon her lips and her dark hair had been braided back to reveal a large scar which ran down her hairline, close to her left ear. Not understanding the look in her eyes, Frieda turned and hurried to catch up with the others.

As they left the courtyard, Frieda lost track of where they were going as she kept looking behind her at the people ambling about with no direction. Staring into their eyes, they seemed lost, just like she was when she lifted her head and found herself in a completely different area.

This large expanse of space was still highly walled on all sides but the floor was completely paved and burning the bottom of her feet as a hand gripped her arm and dragged her back into line. Frieda saw a few potted plants in the corners but her attention was drawn to an entrance set in the wall. The drape of fabric which lay across it was pushed back to reveal the same man from a few days prior when they had been sold.

Frieda and the others all looked to each other as the man began to speak but none of them understood what he was saying. Wearing a floor-length red tunic with a gold sash which highlighted his slightly rotund stomach, Frieda thought he looked rather strange. His thick dark hair appeared greasy at the roots as beads of sweat ran down the side of his olive skinned face. His eyebrows were as thick as insects and seemed to move as he spoke, but what he said was lost on all of them as he extended his arms to them before clasping his hands in front of his chest, a smile spreading across his greedy lips.

Frieda looked to Eoghan to see if he understood but he simply shook his head, lifting his shoulders a little in confusion.

The man before them looked up towards to the sky before his hands fell back to his sides and he turned and walked away. Frieda was not sure what to do when another man stepped out from beneath the drape and walked towards them. This man was tall and thin with large bug eyes which he settled on Frieda as he came to a stop in front of her.

Frieda wanted to take a step back from his penetrating gaze but she stayed where she was and watched his dark eyes trail from the very tip of her head down to her bare feet. He reached out a hand and grasped her wrist, trying to yank her arm out in front of her but Frieda pulled her arm out of his grasp. As she did so, the guard beside her moved forward to strike her but the man held up a veiny-hand, smiling down at her as if he was pleased with what she had done as he turned to speak to a different guard stood behind him.

Frieda looked over his shoulder to see that the other guard was writing things down. She looked to Eoghan but he seemed just as perplexed as she was when the man turned back and motioned for her to step forward. Apprehensive of what was about to happen, her muscles clenched as she stepped forward and waited to be struck but instead the man walked around her, speaking in his native tongue to the guard who wrote everything down.

She did not know what was happening as he reached out and grasped her jaw, opening her mouth and pushing her head back to inspect her teeth. When he tried to reach a finger inside, Frieda swatted his hand away and shook her head out of his grasp.

But the man did not try to look again instead he made a passing remark to the guard and suddenly Frieda was on her knees before him, multiple pairs of hands holding her down. She struggled as much as she could but the hands were strong, pushing her into the ground. She could hear Eoghan shouting beside her as she felt a hand push a length of rag away from her arm, exposing her flesh at the top of her arm.

Seeing someone come to a halt in front of her, Frieda looked up to be immediately confronted by the burning end of an iron rod. As she realised what it was, Frieda tried to pull away but the hands on her body kept her immobile as the glowing metal filled her vision, obscuring everything else as it grew closer.

As she stared at it, she realised that the tip of the iron had been welded into a strange shape and that was what was burning, covering her face in warmth so that a sweat broke out on her forehead. Staring at it, Frieda saw that it was a straight line with a second longer curved line stretching from the bottom of the first to the top creating an almost oblong semicircle.

The man said something and stepped to the side of her. Watching the tip of the iron rod, Frieda shouted as she watched the man hover it over the exposed skin on her arm, the warmth from it burning her flesh.

"Eoghan!" Frieda shouted but there was nothing Eoghan could do as he and the others were held back. Frieda's lips were wrenched open, her scream filling the air as the burning rod was pressed hard into her flesh, searing her skin. She could hear her flesh hissing as it melted under the intense heat and she could feel each and every side of the strange shape so much that she could draw a detailed picture from that alone.

After what felt like an eternity, the rod was removed from her skin but the burning did not stop as the guards released her and Frieda fell forward on the ground, too weak to hold herself up. Panting through the pain that gripped her, Frieda squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that spilled down over her cheeks as she realised that she had been branded like cattle. Frieda suddenly felt very sorry for the animals that her father had done that too back in Britannica because now she knew how it felt.

A pair of hands cupped her arms painfully and lifted her to her feet, pushing her back in line as if nothing had happened whilst Frieda's arm burnt painfully, warmth spreading out across her chest as she stood, wavering unsteadily on her feet.

The man performed the same inspections upon Eoghan except Eoghan did not wish for his mouth to be inspected or his arm branded and he was forced to his knees. His jaw wrenched open and his arm was disfigured just like Frieda's had been.

Frieda did not know how long she had been stood there but after a while she stopped staring at the floor and instead lifted her eyes to watch the doorway with the drape, wondering if the other man would ever appear again. He was the man in charge of this, he was the man that had paid for her and brought her here to do with as he wished. Frieda felt anger for him rise inside her chest but no matter how long she watched the doorway he never showed.

As the man and his guard finished with Bradan at the other end of the line, his guttural cry barely affecting her after listening to a dozen screams just the same, one of them her own, Frieda's legs were ready to collapse beneath her when the man who had been inspecting them picked up a covered bowl from across the courtyard and handed them each a single piece of bread, no bigger than the palm of her hand.

The stale bread had barely grazed the flesh on her hand before Frieda had stuffed it into her mouth, chewing through the tough texture with a pleasure she had never known. Her stomach growled for more as she swallowed it but the next thing Frieda knew was she was being marched out of the courtyard and back through the narrow alleys and covered corridors of the large villa. She hissed as the cold air stung her burnt arm.

Before she knew where they were going, they turned a corner and she found herself back at the beginning by the large patch of grass and rows of stone cells, those stood idly around moved out of the way of the guards. Frieda looked up and saw the girl with dark braided hair leant against one of the stone pillars, her gaze fixed upon Frieda. Frieda kept walking, afraid that they were going to be forced back into the carriage, when the guard turned and held up a hand for her to stop.

Frieda watched him uncertainly beneath his helmet as he called for someone behind her and she turned to see a second guard approach with a hammer and a long, thick iron nail. The guard in front of her grabbed her wrists and held them out in front of her as the second guard placed the tip of the chisel against the bindings of her chains.

Frieda wanted to pull away, afraid they were about to break her arms, when the guard brought the hammer down on top of the nail and the iron cuff around her wrist broke open. As it did so, Frieda felt a rush of air pass her lips as the chains dangled from only her left wrist. The guard repositioned the tip of the nail on her left cuff and soon that too broke open, the chains clattering against the stone floor which the guard quickly collected.

Frieda winced as she rubbed her wrists; the skin was red and bleeding from where the metal had cut into her flesh, marking her skin, when the guard began to shout to get her attention and she looked up to see him pointing at a cell. Frieda cupped her wrist in her hand as she stared into the cell but it was too dark to see what lingered inside.

The guard grew impatient and wrapped a hand around her arm, dragging her forward. Frieda cried out as his fingers touched her fresh burn, sending shots of pain up her arm and across her chest. The guard pulled her to the front of the cell and hurled her inside. It felt as if she weighed no more than a sack of potatoes to the man as her feet left the ground and she fell hard on the stone floor, her body rolling a few times before she came to a stop.

"Frieda!" Eoghan's voice called to her but it felt very far away.

Wincing, Frieda placed a hand on the ground, feeling straw beneath her palm, and pushed herself up in time to see the cell door being swung shut, covering her in darkness. Frieda swallowed in fright as she heard the key turn in the lock, trapping her inside.

"No," Frieda whimpered as she slowly pulled herself to her feet and hurried to the door where a small rectangle had been cut out of the wood and bars placed in its stead. Curling her fingers around the bars, Frieda stood on her tiptoes to peer outside. Her eyes squinted slightly against the onslaught of the light before she spotted Eoghan's face in the line as they walked away from her.

"No, Eoghan!" Frieda shouted, straining to keep her body up as she pressed her chin against the wooden door, her eyes peeled to Eoghan's form as the line of Britons were marched to the opposite side of the patch of grass where another row of cells waited. Frieda's panic decreased slightly when he saw that Eoghan had been placed into a cell directly across from her with Bradan.

So they were to be separated, Frieda realised, but not completely. But despite them being less than a few hundred yards away, Frieda felt more alone than ever before. Swallowing around the dry lump in her throat, Frieda continued to watch Eoghan as he looked back at her through the same barred gap in his cell door before her arms grew tired and she was forced to relinquish her hold on the door.

Frieda shivered as she took a step back in her cell and felt the cold, dark shadows of the small room begin to creep forward and wrap themselves around her. The prickly ends of the straw which dusted the floor stabbed at her bare feet as she walked back but she never let her gaze shift from the small patch of light in her door. Soon her back hit the stone wall of her cell and she slid slowly to the ground.

Overwhelmed, alone, and afraid, Frieda hugged her knees to her chest and focused on the patch of light across from her, trying not to let the darkness frighten her but as she thought about her room back in Britannica with its thick blankets and warm hearth she began to cry. She would never feel the warmth of those blankets again or see her parents or younger sister.

Frieda let her eyes close as she was confronted with the thought that she was to be locked in this room for the rest of her life. Burying her face in her knees, Frieda sat there and cried.