A Demon's Story Part I Chptr 2

 Outside, it wasn't raining, but the fog, coupled with the pre-dawn light, made seeing nigh on impossible. If it wasn't for Father Obesus and his lantern, Ambrose would've probably run into a building.

"Father," Ambrose asked eventually, "Where are we headed?"

Father Obesus paused and turned. He roughly put a hand on Ambrose's shoulder and smiled genially. "To the docks, my child."

Ambrose raised his hand to block the blinding stream of light from the lantern. He cocked his head. "Why the docks?"

Father Obesus' face darkened. "Quiet your mouth and follow me." With that, he turned and continued walking, half-guiding, half-pushing Ambrose with his hand still on his shoulder.

Why the docks? Ambrose wondered. And why won't the tell me?

Arriving at the docks brought about more questions. By the time they were there, the sun was beginning its morning ascent and had begun to bathe the misty world in a surreal golden glow. Ambrose again looked at the Father questioningly, but the Father ignored him.

Why won't he tell me? Ambrose wondered. It couldn't be because he feared Ambrose couldn't comprehend it. Ambrose was a logical, reasonable, level-headed child. Therefore, Ambrose did not understand Father Obesus' reasoning.

Finally, something happened. A rowboat appeared around a small cape in the east. Ambrose supposed that the ship was behind it. Father Obesus tensed at the sight of the rowboat, and anxiously shifted his considerable weight from foot to foot.

Ambrose was still completely in the dark pertaining to the current situation. Perhaps they've come to bring something? Ambrose thought as the rowboat approached. And the Father needs my help bringing it back to the church? But he soon saw that it contained naught but two men.

Ambrose's stomach dropped as he sensed the ominous feeling around the men. If Father Obesus hadn't been there with him, he might've run back to the church. But the Father was there and Ambrose knew he would protect him if anything happened.

Presently, the boat arrived and the men got out of the boat. One of them, the smallest, strode over to Ambrose and began examining him like a farmer would examine a horse he was planning to buy. Ambrose let the man do it, for he knew if it meant harm that the Father would stop it.

"So this is him, huh, Father?" the other man asked, looking at Ambrose and running a hand through his shaggy red mane.

"Indeed he is," Father Obesus replied, also looking at Ambrose.

"Ouch!" Ambrose yelped. His examiner had just squeezed his calves very hard.

The man looked up. "Sorry," he muttered unapologetically. His big, dirty hands began moving up Ambrose's leg. Father Obesus and redheaded man turned around and began whispering frantically.

After checking all of Ambrose's lower half, the man moved on to Ambrose's upper body. "Remove your habit, please," Ambrose's examiner sneered. Ambrose frowned.

"But it's the middle of winter--" he stuttered. He was cut of by the man drawing his large hand back and slapping Ambrose with his open palm.

"You'll do as I say," he commanded.

"Yes, sir." Ambrose immediately began to disrobe.

The man turned to his companion and whispered in his ear. He, in turn, snarled at Father Obesus. "You said he was obedient."

Father Obesus calmly turned to Ambrose. "Look, my children. He has indeed done what you asked, has he not?"

The smaller man glowered at him. "Yeah, after I hit 'em."

Father Obesus simply closed his eyes and smiled. "Ambrose, my child," he began kindly, "Please do whatever these men say, yes?"

Ambrose nodded. The Father and the redheaded man turned around and continued their conversation. Ambrose sighed, and then shivered. "Alright," he said sharply, "I took off my habit. What now?"

The man said nothing, but he continued to examine every crevice on Ambrose's nude body.

Ambrose shivered involuntarily once more as the man's rough hands trailed up his spine. His heart told him something was amiss, but his head told him to stay calm, that the Father would take care of it.

The man was now prying Ambrose's mouth open and examining his small teeth. He tapped the empty space where Ambrose's lateral incisor should've been.

"Where in God's name is this one?" he growled.

"It fell out, and it hurts when people touch it," Ambrose replied, clearly annoyed. "Father says it will grow back soon."

"Oh." The man stood up and took a step back. "So you're that young, that you still have those tiny white munchers?"

"I'm eight," Ambrose muttered flatly.

"Hm." The man cocked his head at the boy before him and stared for a moment. He was about to turn around when he noticed his eyes.

"What's up with your eyes, kid?" he grunted, more to himself than to Ambrose. He knelt down and pried Ambrose's eyes open to get a better look. "Care to explain?"

Father Obesus turned around and cut in. "He was born that way. Don't tease him about it."

"Eh, whatever. As long as he isn't possessed." The man picked up Ambrose's discarded habit and handed it back to him. Ambrose quickly slipped it on.

Father Obesus shook hands with the redheaded man and turned to Ambrose.

"Ambrose, my boy," he began, putting a hand on Ambrose's shoulder. "You always say that you wish you could pay me back for taking you in."

Ambrose nodded. What's he on about? he wondered.

Father Obesus smiled and opened his robe. Concealed within was a large bag full of coins that Ambrose knew wasn't there before.

"You just did."

Before Ambrose could process what he was just told, the redheaded man scooped him up and threw him over one shoulder. He turned to the Father.

"Pleasure doing business with you," he called as the Father began walking away.

Father Obesus turned and yelled back, "Any time, my children." He smiled kindly and waved to them.

The men turned and started toward to rowboat. That's when it finally hit Ambrose what had happened.

He had been sold to these men as a slave. Sold by the only father he had ever known.

Sold.

He began screaming for his mother, and he beat the man's back with his fists. He was crying and yelling and hitting, but nothing worked.

Ambrose was thrown into the rowboat. The redheaded man stepped in, and when the boat tilted and Ambrose slid over to the man's leg, he drew back his hand and slapped him. The slight raven-haired boy whimpered and crawled back to the other side of the boat. He looked to the dock, frantically searching for Father Obesus. But he was already gone, his faithful servant replaced by gold. Cold, hard, solid, gold.

The small man stepped into the boat after untying it. As they rowed away, he grabbed two long strips of cloth and some rope. Ambrose was too stunned to move as he tied the small boy's hands and feet, and gagged and blindfolded him.

"Can't know where we're going," he said as he tied the blindfold.

A few minutes later, the swish of the water stopped. Ambrose heard the creaking of a much larger vessel. Well then, Ambrose thought, I guess there was a ship back there.

As the gentle sound of the water over the oars stopped, Ambrose relaxed his body. One of the men picked him up and threw him over his broad shoulders, none too gently. There was a sudden creaking, and the rowboat lurched upward. Ambrose supposed that they were winching it up on deck.

Several grunts, curses, and bumps later, Ambrose was dropped several feet onto what sounded like a wood floor. He was unbound.

The redheaded man looked at him levelly. "You're a smart boy. You know what's going one, right?" Ambrose nodded. "Good," he muttered and climbed up a ladder and out of the room.

Ambrose sighed and looked around. The room stank of animal feces and rum. Several goats stared at him forlornly as he stood up and began examining the room.

He soon concluded that it was the main hold of the ship, and that it was below deck, judging by the heavy footsteps above. There were two more boys, around his age, asleep in a pile of semi-clean straw. Ambrose shrugged, and, finding no place better to do so, lay down with them and soon dozed off.