A Cruel Passing of Innocence by J.D. Jensen Read Free Book Online Page A

became increasingly aware of the busy sounds of people close by, once again bringing a nagging fear to her heart. There was a muffled dragging noise against the side of the boat, some shouting, some bumping, and the vessel had docked. Above them scuffling feet ran on the deck, and after some moments the hatch was unbolted and wrenched open.
    The instant glare of the sun was blinding to all huddled below, but delicious fresh air rushed into the hold as a man’s face appeared in the hatchway. He shouted an order, his nostrils flaring distastefully at the stench that came up to meet him. Some of the young men reluctantly got to their feet, understanding the shouted order, and started to shuffle, crouching low, towards the ladder that led up to the daylight.
    Nassara whispered urgently to Zheeno, but before he could reply the chain on his collar yanked him forward. He stumbled away from her, the others quickly following him, pulled by the rough chain. Desperately he glanced back at her, his eyes filled with a tenderness that touched her heart. He waved fleetingly then was gone, jerked from sight by the chain.
Chapter 3
    Emerging into the sunlight from the dreadful hold, the sight that met Nassara’s eyes was one she could never have imagined before, and fear clutched again at her belly.
    The boat was moored alongside a stone landing place. Nestling on every side, bobbing gently in the water, were many boats of differing sizes, some monstrous shapes rising high out of the water, sprouting several masts and raised cabins, and with several levels of deck.
    Everywhere teemed with running figures carrying heavy sacks, bundles or boxes to nearby storage huts. As far as the eye could see, in every direction, there were tall buildings, domed roofs and tall towers standing starkly against the deep blue sky. Human activity was everywhere, loud and coarse. Men in strange, richly coloured garments surveyed the comings and goings of the scuttling figures, occasionally shouting orders. Some were armed with fearsome knives that glinted in the sunshine.
    The general noise of the bustling place was offensive to Nassara’s ear. She had never before seen so many people gathered in one place. The alien mixture of odours that came from this dense human habitation was scarcely better than the foul atmosphere of the boat’s hold.
    The sprawling buildings seemed to have been set out one on top of another, crammed together so tightly that they overhung the narrow streets, awesome in their domination of the place. The sheer immensity and hostility of the environment made Nassara feel scarcely of greater significance than a humble insect.
    If any one of the captives had for one moment believed their ordeal was nearly at an end it would have been a cruel, unfounded expectation. Once they had been unloaded across the gangplank, the two files of chained men and women were led away at a fast pace towards the sprawling mass of buildings. Naked, the slaves trotted, one behind the other, with the young men at the front, their chains jangling with disjointed, uneasy rhythm.
    The whip-men were everywhere around them, goading them on, flicking their whips impatiently around their legs. As the file of captives passed by men would stop and ogle them, sometimes shouting blatantly lewd remarks in the disturbing language that Nassara did not understand. Some of the men made lurid gestures, and she felt eyes everywhere upon her nakedness.
    The nearer they came to the buildings rising menacingly before them, the more people came out to look curiously at the new batch of slaves. Women in hooded black garments that made them look like ragged crows, and swarthy men in flowing robes gathered in jabbering groups to watch the pitiful procession.
    Nassara noticed that the hooded women were no less enthusiastic than the men in their jeering gestures, the objects of their derision the bobbing genitalia of the chained young men as they trotted, so dreadfully shamed,