Chapter Text
"Get up! Come on!"
He cried out as the whip came down on his battered back, tearing it open again. Fresh blood streamed down his back, covered in dirt and sweat. Wearing only a rag of trousers, he stood up and stepped out onto the sandy streets of Egypt with the other five men. His once short brown hair lay in light curls over his shoulders, and his striking face was framed by a beard. His once clear blue eyes were dull, and his otherwise slightly muscular frame was emaciated. Ribs were clearly visible, as were scars and scabbed wounds on his arms and torso.
"Faster!" his dealer snarled angrily, driving them before him like cattle. "If I don't sell one of you lazy slaves today, I'll kill you myself!"
Slaves... Yes. He knew nothing but the life of a slave. Even as a small boy, he had been sold again and again to work everywhere. He didn't know his parents, nor his name... His masters had repeatedly given him new names, so he never truly had one of his own. When one of the men in front of him stumbled and fell, he ran to help him up, but immediately felt the stinging pain of the whip. He cried out, but stayed standing, even though his legs threatened to give way.
"Move!" shouted his trader, shoving the two forward.
Stumbling, he held on to the elderly man so he wouldn't fall again and supported him until they reached the market. There, everything was sold: slaves, animals, clothing, carpets, food, and much more. He stood with the others, as he had done every day, in the same spot where the merchant had his place. Many people walked past them, barely looking at them. His rough, dry fingers gripped his amulet tightly. It was a rusty Egyptian eye that he had owned since he was a child. It looked a bit strange because of two lines going down the eye.
His merchant once tried to take it away from him, but when he saw that it had no value, he gave it back to him after hitting him dozens of times with a stick. When his dull blue eyes saw a small child drinking water, he swallowed reflexively and coughed, having nothing but a dry throat. His lips were chapped and cracked. They hadn't had anything to drink for two days. They hadn't had any food for four. Sweat poured down his temple as he tried to stop coughing, but the scratchiness in his throat made it difficult.
"Stop coughing!" his dealer snarled angrily, punching him in the stomach. He fell to his knees, gasping for air. Choking, he held his aching stomach and tried to suppress the urge to cough.
"You shouldn't treat these people like this," he suddenly heard a sweet female voice. "Don't you see their condition? They can barely stand on their feet."
Who was this woman who was interceding for him and the others? This had never happened before. The scent of resin filled his nose, and as he slowly raised his head, it seemed as if a goddess stood before him. The young woman had long brown hair covered by a blue silk scarf and radiant brown eyes. Her lips were a light red, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, presumably from the heat. She was dressed in a beautiful dark blue, tight-fitting linen dress with delicate gold lines.
A small string of pearls hung around her slender neck, and he could also see jewelry around her wrists: a gold bracelet and two pearl bracelets. Gold earrings adorned her earlobes. He barely listened to the two, too captivated by her beauty, until his dealer suddenly raised the hand in which he held the cane. Fear filled the young woman's eyes, and before he knew what he was doing, he had stood up and stood between them. He gently embraced the woman's beautiful figure to protect her from the blow that landed on his battered back. He bit his tongue to suppress a cry of pain.
"How dare you!" his merchant snarled angrily, but he didn't listen to what he was saying. Instead, he pulled away slightly from the woman, who looked at him in surprise.
"Are... you okay?" he asked in a ragged voice.
Before she could answer, they heard someone shout, "Lady Snow. Lady Snow!"
People scattered as a handful of soldiers appeared, and then he was roughly grabbed by one of the soldiers and thrown to the ground. He immediately covered his face as if he were about to be punished, but instead of punishment, he was shouted at.
"How dare you touch Lady Snow with your filthy form and hands!" The soldier, who seemed to be the leader of the group, looked at the merchant. "What are you waiting for?! Punish that bastard who dared to touch Lady Snow!"
"Y-Yes. O-Of course," the merchant stammered, raising his hand with the whip.
"Stop!" The beautiful woman's clear voice cut through the hot air, and his tormentor immediately stopped. He looked at her in confusion, as did the soldier who had just given him the order.
"But Lady Snow..."
"No!" she interrupted the soldier angrily. "That man protected me from his master when he tried to hit me with the cane."
The soldier turned to the merchant. "What?!"
"I-I didn't know who she was. I-I thought..." the merchant stammered in panic, but fell silent immediately as the soldier drew his curved sword and touched the tip to his throat.
"Choose your words carefully!" the soldier growled.
"You know what? You-You can take him. I'll give him to you. Hmm? How-How would that be?"
Lady Snow looked at the man silently for a moment before speaking, "Fine. But if I see you beating those men again, your head will roll."
"Yes. O-Of course! I swear, Lady Snow."
Two soldiers moved behind Snow to grab the man, who was still lying on the ground, by the arms and lift him to his feet. He groaned in pain and his legs buckled again. They roughly helped him up again, which Snow noticed.
"Careful. Please. Can't you see he's injured and too weak to walk? Bring my horse, then he can ride until we get home."
"Lady Snow!" cried the leader of the soldiers indignantly.
"No..." They all looked at the man, who was still being supported by the soldiers. "I... can walk. But... I thank you... for your... kindness... Snow..."
"It's Lady Snow to you!"
"That's enough, Ronald!" She scowled at him before turning back to the nameless man. Her gaze softened, and a small smile graced her beautiful face. "Okay, if this is your decision, then I will accept it."
With that, they set off, and he didn't turn back. So this would be his new life? He would serve this woman and do everything she asked of him, just as he had done all these years. They crossed the market and Snow mounted her horse, which was imposing and had a dark, glossy fur. He walked beside her, one of the soldiers supporting him. His gaze flickered to her every now and then, observing her for a brief moment before looking forward again.
His legs trembled when they stopped a short while later in front of a gigantic house made of white stone. Sweat poured down his body, and he could barely keep his eyes open, he was too exhausted. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snow dismount her horse and one of the soldiers lead the animal away. He caught a glimpse of her lips moving as she spoke to the leader before his legs buckled and he fell unconscious to the ground.
Snow, dressed in a white dress, was on her way to the room where they had brought the man after he collapsed unconscious on her doorstep. Two days had already passed, and he hadn't woken up yet. He had been cared for when she had asked her people to. After they had washed him, his wounds had been tended to. She quietly opened the door to the room and closed it behind her. She turned in alarm when something suddenly fell to the floor with a clatter, just in time to see the nameless man fall as well. He lay there groaning. He was dressed only in a white loincloth, while his upper body was wrapped in a bandage. She quickly went to him.
"Are you okay? What are you doing? You should be in bed resting."
The man flinched and again covered his face with his arms. Only now did Snow understand why he was doing this, and the realization hurt bitterly.
"I won't hurt you. I promise."
Very slowly, he removed his arms from his face, and his clear blue eyes looked at her fearfully. She smiled. "Come. I'll help you up."
She held out her hand. He looked at her hand hesitantly and skeptically, but then he took it. Her skin was warm and soft, while his was rough. He carefully got back to his feet and stood before her. He was a head and a half taller than her, which made him look down on her. When he realized he was still holding her hand, he immediately let go and took a step back. He bowed his head slightly to the ground, submissively, as he had been taught since childhood.
"You should stay in bed and rest. Your wounds haven't healed yet."
"I-I can't..." he answered in a raspy voice, licking his dry and chapped lips.
"Why not?"
"I have work to do. You got me as a gift, Mistress. I will serve you until I die or you no longer want me. I will do anything you ask." He coughed slightly, his throat still dry. He swallowed when he heard Snow pour water into a glass. He would do anything to get a sip of water.
"Look at me." He raised his head, his eyes widening as Snow held out the glass of water. "You must be thirsty. Drink. But slowly. Your throat must be very dry."
He blinked in confusion. "You... You'll give me something to drink? B-But I haven't done anything to earn this reward yet."
Snow giggled, and it was like music to his ears. It was like the bells of the tower that stood in the market, yet as bright and lovely as those of a small bird. "You are no longer a slave."
"I-I don't understand," he said, taking the glass of water with trembling hands, his fingers touching hers for a moment. It seemed as if electricity sparked between them, and for a moment, Snow gasped. She looked at him with slightly wide eyes. She quickly lowered her eyes and closed them, and seconds passed before she fixed her gaze on him again.
"Everyone is treated equally here. Everyone has their job here. Some take care of the food, others take care of the household or the fields I own. They work for me, and I give them a wage so they can feed their families."
The man looked at her in disbelief. This couldn't be true. No, never. This was a fever dream. He must still be unconscious. Lady Snow! Yes. That name! There were very few like her here in Egypt, who had people work for them and gave something back in return. Many despised her and the others who did such things, but none of these people dared to raise their voices against them, since they were powerful and wealthy. His gaze fell on the glass of water in his hand, which was still untouched. Slowly, he raised it to his lips and took a small sip. The cool water spread in his mouth, and when he swallowed, the liquid flowed down cooled his scraped throat. He hadn't drunk anything for so long. The taste of the water was like heaven to him. Greedily, he drank another sip and another until he choked and coughed.
"Slowly, there's enough," Snow said, smiling, and he nodded. "Do you have a name?"
He shook his head. "I've been given many names. I was renamed again and again when I was sold to other people that I had to serve."
"I understand. Should I give you a name?" she asked cautiously. Again, he nodded. "I had a dog once when I was little. His name was Harrison. I always called him Harry." He grimaced when he heard it, but Snow continued, "He was a very loyal and kind dog. Harry always accompanied me everywhere, played with me, or even protected me. He died at a ripe old age." She smiled sadly at the memory. "I miss him every day, but I know he's in a better place now." Snow looked at the man with no name. "You remind me of him. In your eyes, I see kindness, compassion... love. You protected me when the merchant tried to hurt me. When you're better, I'd like you to become my bodyguard."
He tilted his head slightly when he heard the request. "But I don't know anything about weapons. I've only ever served to please people."
"Then you will be taught. But if you don't want to, I will respect your decision and you can learn something else."
He swallowed and thought. Lady Snow had been so good to him, and he didn't want to disappoint her. She had saved his life. "Okay. I'll be your bodyguard, Mistress."
Snow smiled happily. Her eyes shone with joy. "Will you take the name?" He nodded, a small smile playing on his lips as Snow jumped a little for joy and clapped her hands together. "Great. From now on, your name will be Harrison."
"Yes, Mistress."
Snow tilted her head slightly. "Please don't call me Mistress. I don't rule over you, Harry. My name is Caitlin Snow."
"O-Okay, Mi… S-Snow."
Caitlin smiled happily. "Now I'll leave you alone. You need to rest some more. Tomorrow I'll show you everything, if you'd like." Harrison nodded. "Good. See you tomorrow then."
"See you tomorrow, Snow," he said in a raspy voice, and he could see her cheeks turning a light pink. She turned around and almost fled the room without looking back. Harry stared at the closed door for a while longer. He now had a name he hoped he could bear with pride. His gaze fell on his free hand. His thumb ran over his fingertips. Had Snow also felt that spark between them when their fingers touched?
Meanwhile, the merchant sat in his hut, counting the little money he had, when he jumped in shock as the door was kicked in. A handful of soldiers rushed in and grabbed him, forcing him to his knees.
"What are you doing?! What are you thinking!" he shouted angrily, trying to break free, but couldn't.
"What am I thinking?" The merchant froze instantly when he heard the feminine voice of the woman he knew all too well. She entered his hut. The woman wore a dark purple, tight-fitting dress covered in jewelry. Her arms and neck were also adorned with jewelry. She had short, light brown hair and blue-gray eyes. Scattered wrinkles could already be seen on her once flawless face. She stared down at him coldly.
"Mistress McGee. I-I wasn't expecting you to arrive," the man stammered nervously, sweat already forming on his forehead.
"I come whenever I please," the woman replied indifferently, looking around the hut, wrinkling her nose. "I always wonder how people like you survive in huts like this. The stench is horrible." Her gaze fell on the man before her. "You know why I'm here."
"Yes, o-of course. If your men would let me go, I could get the slaves."
"No need. I've already sent two men to get him for me."
"H-Him?" he asked, irritated.
"Yes. Him. The man with the long, slightly curly brown hair and those incredibly clear blue eyes. I told you I needed a few days to think about it before I decided."
The merchant licked his lips nervously and smiled. "Well... uhm... There's one tiny problem regarding the slave."
"And what is the problem regarding my slave?"
The man opened his mouth and was about to answer her when the soldiers returned. "Mistress McGee, we couldn't find the man."
"What do you mean you couldn't find him?!" she hissed angrily.
"He's not among the other three slaves," the soldier explained to her.
McGee slowly turned to the merchant. "Where. Is. He!"
"I-I gave him to a young woman. Ah!" The man cried out in alarm as one of the soldiers held a dagger to his throat.
"And her name is?" she hissed.
"She-She's called Lady Snow. Really, that's all I know. P-Please don't kill me. Please," he begged through tears.
"I'm always happy to do business with you," McGee said, turning to leave the cabin, "Even if this was our last business together."
"No! Wait..." The soldier slit his throat, and they carelessly dropped him to the ground, where a pool of blood was already spreading beneath him.
"Hunter." A blond soldier with blue eyes stood beside her. "I want you to find out where this so-called Lady Snow lives, and then we'll pay her a visit."
"Yes, Mistress."
With that, he left her, and McGee and her other soldiers walked to her litter, which was carried by a total of six slaves. If Christina McGee wanted something, she would get it!