Reincarnated to the Past 25: New Home (Patreon)

Reincarnated to the Past
Chapter 25: New Home

-VB-

Siju
A slave of Marris

The Higher River Kettin’s trip back home was a calm and quiet one filled with triumph and glee. Normally, men would cheer at the honor and recompense they had earned, but maybe it was due to the stoic and calm nature of their two leaders that the rest of the free men didn’t act out. 

Ignoring the tribal town in the far distance, Siju made a conclusion on each of the leaders based on what she saw of them.

The chief of the Higher River Kettin, Ghigari, was a common leader rather than an exalted leader; he stood among the rest of his tribes’ men as one of them rather than a higher figure lording over the rest like her home city’s tyrant did. 

She remembered Percote before she and many of the city’s denizens were absconded by Thracian raiders. It was a small city, an ally of the great Troas before its fall, but it was a city that enjoyed its geographical position. While it wasn’t as rich as Troas had been with its army and numerous tributary states, it was a good city with good people. 

But it was gone due to the folly of the city’s tyrant, who drove her home into war and lost it all. The Thracians came afterwards and destroyed the city. 

Ghigari wasn’t like the tyrant of her destroyed home. He listened, advised, ordered, and acted not out of pride but out of necessity, if what she learned of the man was true. 

It was not the chief who concerned her, however. 

Her master, the man known as Alan Marris, was who concerned her. Initially, she thought that he would be a better master than Homkal Mahk, the chief of the Mahk’s Kettins, and was proven right when she heard one of Ghigari’s men grumbling about the good treatment that she and other slaves received like “those slaves back at the tribe.”

It was good to hear and get confirmation for such a thing, but what concerned her was the man’s lack of demand from the slaves beyond the initial greeting and laying of the law. He didn’t tell the slaves to dance for him, to wrestle for his entertainment, or take her or other woman to bed.

She was concerned because she couldn’t predict the man like she predicted Homkal. Homkal could be satisfied with good food, good alcohol, and a willing woman to bed. 

Her new master? Aside from the fact that he was a good master who treated his slaves kindly, she knew nothing about him. As such, she couldn’t predict him and that made her wary. 

She knew she was being unkind to her new master who had only extended his hands back to her and other slaves with kind gestures, but she couldn’t help it. The last time she let her guard down, her big sister had to sacrifice herself to the desires of wanton men to spare her. 

Speaking of her big sister…

“Sister,” she called out when she saw the woman approach with her brood. 

Ten years older than her, her sister, Riju, had been captured by the same Thracians who had captured her. Unlike Siju, her older sister had been just the right age for many lustful men. From day one of their slavery to only just a few years ago, her sister suffered at the hands of men, slaves and freemen alike. 

As expected, she was forced to carry children after children, and though men no longer forced themselves on her, her still kind and sweet older sister was forced to take care of five of the nine children she bore.

Of the rest, two had died in their infancy and two had been taken by their sires.

“Siju, you’re fretting again,” Riju chidded her like she always did before fussing over her. “You know you don’t have to carry any of this, right?” she asked as she hefted her own luggage up. 

Siju giggled while continuing to carry a small satchel filled with foodstuff. “This is nothing,” she replied with ease. Then she frowned while staring at her sister’s children. “How are they taking this?”

She sighed in frustration. “It’s not like they have to hear me when men barge into our hovel, so I actually think this is better.” Then she asked coyly. “How is the master? What did you learn about him?”

“He’s as he appears: a decent man trying to be a decent master.”

“Hmm. What did other freemen say about him?”

“That he has other slaves, though they were prisoners of recent war.”

“And yet he treats his former enemies well?”

“Apparently so.”

“... I suppose that is good to hear,” Riju hummed. “What else?”

“That he is a leader of men… and women.”

“Hmm?”

“That he led women into battle and suffered less death than the warriors.”

Her older sister blinked before slapping her shoulder lightly and playfully. “No way! How can a woman beat a man in the battlefield?” she chidded. “It must be just a rumor.”

“The freemen say that his wife is a warrior. A hunter.”

“A hunter is different from a warrior.”

“But their words are consistent over the days. I’m inclined to believe it.”

“... Huh. A warrior woman.”

Such a concept was heresy in the city that they were born in, but perhaps it wasn’t so here among the Kettins. 

Was it because the Kettins were between the Dacians and the Thracians? Were they so low in warriors that they needed women to fight with them? 

It was a concerning thought. Would she be expected to fight? Could this new tribe keep her and her sister’s family alive? 

She grimaced. 

She hoped it would be safe. Safety was better than kindness for what use was kindness like those of the city she was born in when they lacked the strength to defend themselves?

Sighing, she continued to follow the line of slaves and freemen, led by the chief and his advisor, to their new home.

-VB-

Alan Marris

“Home sweet home!” I laughed as I and the rest of the band walked through the gateway and into the tribal town proper. 

Many people were waiting, probably having seen us coming from afar, and Ureya was one of them.

I lept down my horse and embraced my wife, who had a bit of tears in her eyes. “I’m home, dear.”

She laughed happily, if a little wetly. “Welcome home.”