"Move it. You have 10 minutes," shouted a guard.

Startled, Antalasia sat up with a jerk. In a sleep-induced haze, she watched the other prisoners waking up and walking to the gate. Michaelo and Lizzy remained deep asleep.

"I said MOVE," shouted the guard and pushed a young woman which sent her sprawling on the ground. Everyone made haste.

Worried, Antalasia shook Michaelo and Lizzy awake.

"I'm so tired Antalasia," mumbled Michaelo as he leaned against his big sister. Lizzy too was exhausted.

"Come on. Hurry up. Otherwise, the guard will scold us," urged Antalasia.

The poor children so used to luxury had struggled to sleep on the uneven, pebbled ground despite being dead-tired from their long ordeal. They sleepily walked along with the group of prisoners.

Looking around, the children observed their surroundings. All the prisoners were being held in a small fenced area. A small distance away, there were a few buildings where the guards lived. Next to the buildings stood two tin sheds. One of the sheds was huge with a big doorway. On the opposite side, something shimmered in red under the bright morning light. At first, the prisoners were terrified that it was the Centi-Rhazaqats. But the red sea was vast and didn't move, only glimmered under the sunlight.

Recognizing the young woman walking beside them as the same person who had helped everyone the previous day, Antalasia turned to her and asked, "Who are you? Why are you so kind to us? What will they do to us?"

"Hold up little one. One question at a time. My name is Lydia. I'm the Gemmas' chieftain's daughter. As to why I help you, it's part of my tribe's culture. Along with being amazing fishermen, we are also healers. I don't have access to all the medicines that I would normally do. Therefore, I can't help much. But I do what I can," replied Lydia.

Lydia continued, "Since you are placed with us, you are a breeder. We'll be taking care of the Centi-Rhazaqats. Be careful though, if the creatures get angry, they'll gobble you up. If you are lucky though, you will be out in the field and nowhere near the Centi-Rhazaqats."

Antalasia looked at Lydia closely. She was very short, no taller than 4 1/2 feet. She was skin and bones with her collar bones and elbows sticking out. She was severely nourished. Her bright blue eyes screamed exhaustion and her wide generous mouth drooped tiredly.

"Why hasn't anyone tried to run away?" asked Antalasia.

"Run where? This place is dry and we would need a few weeks worth of food and water to travel back home. Besides, we are all too weak for the journey. Even if do manage to get back home, we are being hunted by these humans and their creatures. It's not safe anywhere. The bastard King Charles also attacks us," said Lydia hatefully.

The children were shocked to hear such terrible words spoken with such venom against their father. 

"I'm sure you are mistaken. Papa wouldn't do that. If he did, there must be a huge misunderstanding. When he rescues us, I'm sure he'll understand and rectify his mistake," said Antalasia earnestly.

Lydia looked confused for a few minutes. 

"Wait, you are King Charles's offspring! You attack us, burn us alive and sacrifice us to the monsters. Despite all the atrocities you have committed, you live happily and sleep deeply. I hate you," snarled Lydia furiously and stormed away. 

Shocked by the animosity shown, the children fell silent and continued walking. The entire group made their way to the red sea.  During the journey, slowly but surely, all the prisoners separated themselves from the three children.

"I miss home," cried Lizzy.

"Everyone is so mean here. I want Father," sniveled Michaelo.

"Me too," mumbled Antalasia and hugged her siblings close.

Tears filled the children's eyes. They were miserable and missed their family. They yearned for comforting hugs and reassurance from their parents. They desperately wished they could hear Prince John teasing them mercilessly.

For the very first time, they were experiencing abject poverty. Gone were silk dresses and seven-course meals. Instead, they wore smelly, dirty clothes and ate stale bread. Gone were soft beds with rooms for themselves. Instead, they now slept on the hard ground under the open sky with small stones poking them. 

More than anything, the children missed the unconditional love and support that they had from their family as well as their kingdom. Feeling the hateful glares and finding themselves isolated by the other prisoners was appalling and depressing.

"Stack those and carry them down the hill," shouted the guard.

Lost in their misery, the children failed to see where they had walked. What had looked like a red sea was in fact, dried wool from the Centi-Rhazaqats. Downhearted, the children bent to pick up the wool.

Aah! Ouch! Mom!

The children cried out in pain. Blood dripped from their fingers. The prisoners looked at the children briefly feeling sorry for them but, turned away immediately when they found Lydia glaring at them.

"Let them be. They deserve all the pain in the world for what King Charles did," snarled Lydia.

The children were shocked and for a brief minute, forgot their pain.

"It hurts," sobbed Lizzy.

"Oh little one," murmured Antalasia, ripping a piece of her shirt and tying up the wound.

Aaaaah!

An involuntary scream left Antalasia as she stumbled to her knees when the whip cracked on her. Michaelo and Lizzy whimpered in terror.

"Stop dilly-dallying. Start picking them up," said the guard, snapping the whip at his side.

The children nodded, terrified. Lizzy's hand reached out to pick up the dried wool but hovered above it. Her hand shook from fear of pain. Michaelo drew a deep breath and touch the dried wool but, couldn't get himself to hold it. Antalasia was petrified as well. But, she was more scared that the guard would whip Lizzy or Michaelo next. She bit her lip and picked up the wool trying her best not to let any sound pass her lips.

Tears filled Michaelo's eyes as he watched the wool poke his big sister's hand and the blood ooze out. He looked around furiously and watched in surprise when he noticed that none of the other prisoners' hands were bleeding.

"Sis, look. Their hands are not bleeding," whispered Michaelo, nudging Antalasia.

Antalasia looked up and watched the others covertly. She then took one single strand of wool and lifted it against the sun.

The dried wool stood straight like a stick. There were sharp, pointed needles in a single direction. She tried sliding her hands from the other side and to her surprise, the needles folded onto the wool. She observed the other prisoners and noticed that they slid their hands across the wool and then picked it up.

"Look, this is what they are doing," explained Antalasia and the children carefully picked up the wool.

The entire day, the prisoners stacked and carried the dried wool to a shed near the buildings. In the evening, the guards directed all the prisoners into another shed. This shed was huge with a large open doorway. It was two stories high and thirty feet wide. There were heaped mounds of fresh wool. 

"Start working," shouted the guard. He continued, "You need to spread them all over the field to dry. Now, move."

"Look, my hands are all wet and sticky. Why is this sticking?" whined Lizzy as she tried to rub off the fresh, soft wool off her hands.

"My hands are the same. They also have turned red and it stinks. Sis, I can't take this smell. My eyes are burning. I think I'm going to be sick," mumbled Michaelo with tears streaming from his eyes.

"Michaelo!" shouted both his sisters as they both held and comforted him as they watched some of the other new prisoners throw-up as well.

Poor Michaelo. He had hardly eaten any food and now he was throwing up what little he had left in his stomach, unable to bear the pungent odor.

"Its blood of the Centi-Razaqats. Don't worry. You'll get used to it soon," mumbled one of the older prisoners.

The new prisoners paled in disgust and shock. However, none were spared any respite. The guards forced everyone to continue working.

Tired after a long day's work, the prisoners made their way to their quarters - the fenced field. 

A guard came soon carrying a huge bowl of bread. He stood on the other side of the fence and threw the bread pieces on the ground.

The prisoners who had the energy ran to the thrown food and grabbed what they could. They chomped down the dirty, stale bread.

The children scrunched up their faces. They weren't expecting fancy food. But, they weren't expecting soiled food either. Utterly disgusting!

"Eat up. That's the best you will get," said an old woman in a feeble but, melodious voice.

The three children found themselves looking at a hunched, old woman. Her hunch was so bad that she was bent horizontal from the waist and came up to Lizzy's height. She wore strange clothes as well. She had a long piece of cloth wrapped around her lower body which was then wrapped around her upper torso.

The children looked at the other prisoners uneasily. They were all throwing hateful glares and scorns at the old woman for talking with the children.

The children hung their heads and Lizzy said, "You probably shouldn't talk to us. The other prisoners might take their anger out on you."

The old woman glared at the other prisoners and scorned, "I dare them. They are a bunch of cowards who pick on someone who's fallen. Don't you worry about them. They'll get over you being King Charles' children. Now, hurry up and eat. That's all you get until 'morrow night."

The children picked up a few pieces of bread and tried their best to dust off the sand. They forced themselves to swallow the offensive food. They then lay down on the ground to sleep, tossing and turning to find a soft spot, to no avail.

The old woman began humming quietly. Her voice soon picked up strength and she began singing in a strange, forgotten language. The song was soothing and soon lulled everyone to sleep.

Thank you for reading so far.

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