Blind Faith

It had been months since that battle; months since he had been left unable to wield his sword without pain or trouble; months since he'd woken up in that infirmary, his torso, leg and arm bandaged heavily. The injuries had left him bedridden for countless long weeks that in the end, Tristan had become so restless the healers hadn't come near him for fear of being told off or hurt in his foul moods.

Dagonet, the healer knight who had nearly died on the ice lake to save them all, tended to him in those final weeks after had spoken of how not only he and Bors would be staying in Briton but also the others were also. They were staying on to help Arthur build and restore the country and hopefully settle the disputes and matters of state.

Each knight had been given a certain part of the land in which to protect and they did so using their tactics and wits to ensure that each of their regions were secure and peaceful, not only within themselves but also those surrounding them.

Tristan had understood why they had changed their minds; they had been afraid; they still were. They feared that returning home was actually a mission that they would not be able to complete. Out of all the dangers and perils they had faced on the hell that was Briton for fifteen years; the mission of returning home was what they feared more.

Despite knowing there was a strong possibility of not finding his own tribe, Tristan –unlike his brothers– had chosen to go see Sarmatia one last time.

He had sworn onto Arthur that he would return and serve him as a knight of Briton's realm when he had found that sense of freedom. That was some weeks, nay, months ago now.

That sense of freedom. He wanted it more than ever. The sense that he knew Saosin, his loyal bird, had whenever she flew.

She sat perched above him now, on a branch, watching him with a slightly tilted head as he lay back against a tree; a small fire burning close by and his mount -his gorgeous Ishtar- tethered to the tree Saosin was in, more concerned with the apple pieces that he had given to her than anything else.

Arthur had known of his intentions to leave for a long period of time before he had actually left. Ever since that night he had sat watch over him only days after the battle of Badon Hill.

Fourteen months it had been since that day and while he'd known that he was never going to be entirely healed of those grievous wounds the Saxon king had inflicted on him, he had left Arthur's realm and ventured to Gaul, the land that rested between Briton and Sarmatia. Traveling by sea had not been pleasant. Tristan had found himself sick the better part of the journey and even two days after landing, he had found his legs unsteady and his stomach uneasy.

He'd passed through Gaul with barely a glance at the people and culture around him. His journey through the land was dangerous enough and he'd only narrowly avoid trouble with a slavers caravan when Ishstar had thrown a shoe.

It took him two months nearly to reach the Sarmatian border but when he did an overwhelming sensation had swelled in his chest. He was home. After being ripped away at the age of seventeen to serve Rome; he had made it back.

The small tribes living close to the border had greeted him warmly. They'd been pleased to hear that more than just a lone knight had survived those long years even if they weren't related by blood or tribe to the knight or his former brothers-in-arms. They were kin because they were Sarmatian and that bond would always be there. It was because of the boys taken that Rome had not destroyed what little remained of the once great nation years ago.

Tristan was from the Rhoxolani tribe; far east of the Gaul border. His father had told him that even if he did return, they may not be where they resided when he was taken. Nomadic was what his mother had called their people when explaining that they did not stay in one place long due to the dangers of living close to the eastern border.

Even if it took him longer, he would search them out. He was a scout; a tracker; hunter. It was in his nature to seek and find what a normal person would overlook.

If there was one thing about Tristan that most of his comrades had learned was that once he had an idea or mindset, it never left him until his aim was accomplished.

Looking down at where his right hand lay on his thigh, he tried clenching his fist only to wince as pain shot up his arm. Dagonet had said he'd been fortunate that they'd saved his arm from the damage.

His right leg was a separate matter entirely. Now he had the slightest of limps in his step from where the thigh injury had damaged the nerves there and nearly left his leg immobilized. Lucky the Saxon hadn't aimed for a higher and deeper body part.

He felt like an old man at times now as he grew tired quickly and had to rest due to the pain. Fourteen months and he still felt like this would be how the remainder of his days would be spent; in constant pain.

Using his right hand he picked up his sword and stoked the fire a little before telling Saosin to keep a look out while he rested for the remaining hours of night.
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Shanxi, a small town in China three days shy of the Sarmatian border where the snow was only a week gone from the small homes and buildings. A population scarce of six hundred resided there in generally quiet, normal lives. The town was rare in that it had not been ravage by the plagues of war that had been sweeping across the land in the last few years.

The small homes were built sturdy and plain, no decoration or overzealous features. As the small homes drew closer to the main town, the buildings became larger but not for the intents of families. No, these were buildings of industry; butchery, bakery and more.

One of the large buildings in the western section of the town was visited by few of the actual residents of the town.

The Indigo Pavilion. A hostess hall; where decorum that was held in such high regard among their people and land could not be found in a place like this. There was no appropriateness of behaviour or conduct and propriety. There were many through their land and were widely used by the likes of many.

Dewei Fa owned the Indigo Pavilion, a man who saw opportunity at every corner. He was not kind but his hostess hall was run better than most others. The hostesses followed his strict rules of keeping clean and covered until they were paid for their services.

"Tao, I want you to make sure she is ready on time, understood?" the gruff voice barked.

The elderly woman nodded in return and looked at the young girl holding onto her arm, her head lowered to the ground. Despite the fact that she disliked what the girl's fate was to be tonight, Tao nodded and tightened her grip on the girl's arm as their master turned and marched off, his robes blowing behind him through the hallway. "Come Bao."

Bao-Yu, the precious jade of the Indigo Pavilion. The only slave girl in the hostess hall who had not been undressed by men or touched by them save for beatings when she was insolent or did something wrong, and those were rare occurrences in themselves.

It was not common for their people to have jade eyes but that was what made Bao truly unique above all others. That was why her master, Dewei, when he'd brought her seventeen years ago had named her Bao-Yu; precious jade.

Those beautifully haunting jade eyes of pure innocence; even with where their owner had been raised.

When they had not seen the horrors of the world or the things that went on in the halls of the Pavilion it was no wonder. But how could one not see the things that went on everyday right in front them?

No sight.

Bao was blind.

She had been since she was three when her eye sight which had been poor at est then had deteriorated completely. The physician that her father had shown her to had said there was no reason as to why she was blind, but that she simply was. The light had been swamped by the darkness. It was her only true friend now this night.

Tao was a slave who had been in the hostess hall for years beyond Bao's own existence, however she was not kindly like her gesture would currently lead one to believe. In fact; Tao was a bitter crone and only treated Bao with gentleness due to her condition. Tonight she was only aiding her in order to prepare her for Dewei.

Bao's heart pounded heavily. Seventeen years. Her twenty first birthday and she was to be made into a hostess against her deepest wishes. Dewei had all but informed her of his choice to make her into a hostess three days ago and there had been no arguments or pleas to try and sway him because it was pointless. She knew how her master was and that begging and pleading was not something he took nicely to.

Men already had requested after her in the years since she had been at Dewei's side when he had greeted them. But he had called her his precious jade; one that was to remain unseen or undressed by a man - until he decided otherwise.

Today she was twenty-one and what little light she had been able to remember in her mind for those first years of her life was extinguished as her grim fate drew closer by the minute.

As Tao shuffled her along through the hall, the crone muttered under her breath and did not speak to the young women attached to her arm.
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Bao listened as her heart slowed and calmed, ceasing its thunderous pounding in her chest, as she breathed in the smell of the oils in her small satchel. She always smelled of them because they were never removed from her side unless she slept. The satchel housed eighteen small little vials which were precious to her. She had spent her coin since being thirteen in collecting the essences and discovering the properties of them. When questioned as to why she had simply said that wile she could not see the beauty that they came from, she could smell them.

Her wrap covered them and Bao made sure they were tucked away so Tao wouldn't take them from her.

Voices came from all directions as they passed rooms and baths. Slurs, giggles and laughter.

Laughter.

A sound of which she'd heard many times but never experienced it herself. In the hostess hall the laughter generally came from the men and women who were having their fun.

If that is what it could be classed as. She did not really agree with such a term for what it was. All the women or girls of the hostess hall had taken upon either were names of colours or flowers. She hadn't chosen hers.

Bao didn't know what she had originally been named by her birth parents but she didn't care to know it. They had given her away to this man. Given her to the man who was about to turn her into one of the lowest forms of life among her people.

She was not one of those women. She simply lived here and served Dewei, who had brought her when she was four. Why he had was beyond her knowledge.

In all honesty, over the years Bao had never found an answer to her question even when she had once tentatively queried him on it; he had laughed and pushed her away, threatening a beating if she dared question him again. Had it been her jade eyes? She could not remember what her eyes looked like, she couldn't even recall the sight of grass before her little feet anymore.

It certainly hadn't been for her gracefulness which had taken years of extreme clumsiness and accidents to finally master.

The only way for her to walk around without needing the aid of another or the walls and features of the hall was to carry a staff around with her.

Bao hated what she was. Her condition did not bother her all that much anymore as it had over those initial years. Being a slave was what she hated. For the past seventeen years she had been one. She knew nothing else. She knew no life or happiness, no love and affection from a person who truly cared for her.

She disliked being treated as though she was nothing more than some dog who had to obey the gruff orders thrown at her everyday or else be beaten.

Tao guided her into a seat and she knew she now sat in front of a mirror. It was not for her but for the two hostess girls who were painting her face, fixing her jewellery and clothing. She disliked this greatly.

She did not need to be broken in by her owner. Bao was not an animal.

Unlike the girls who worked in the hostess hall, Bao did not wish to entertain men. It terrified her. All the stories that the girls told each other, stories that she'd overheard throughout the years scarred her. She did wish for a man to touch her in a way like that when she was blind. Bao did not think of men in such a manner.

Love was something Bao knew she would never have but that did not mean she was going to become a whore in pretty clothes. No man would care for a blind girl. Well at least not care for her genuinely. Her looks were apparently what made men chase after her; at least to Tao's eyes that was.

What good would she be to a man anyway?

"Bao do not be nervous. It is a natural thing," Tao told her gently from close by on her left.

Bao looked over her shoulder at where she had heard Tao's voice come from. "Do I have to do this? Natural it may be but does my consent and opinion count for naught?" she asked softly.

The older woman was silent for some time. Just as Bao made to press the matter she felt hands on her arms, pulling her up out of the chair she was sitting in slowly. "We do as we're told. It is how things have always been," Tao stated coldly.

Bao's stomach twisted uncomfortably as she realized that no amount of words were going to make Tao see her reasoning for not wishing to go through with this. "I am a slave, not a whore. He has dozens of them already why does he need to do this to me?"

She heard a sigh from Tao and then a gasp from one of the hostess girls. Then there was that gruff voice.

That voice that always left her terrified of the consequences of disobeying for fear of its owner's anger reaching out to her. "Leave!"

Bao heard the shuffles and then silence. Silence so thick that Bao's breathing came in heavy breaths and she turned around slowly, only to have a hand close around her throat tightly, choking her of air and pushing her back into the table of things. They crashed to the ground; smashing into little pieces. She struggled; not knowing what else to do but fight what was happening to her. Dewei's breath came harshly into her ear as he tried to tear her wrap from her shoulders.
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Dewei growled as the girl struggled like a wild animal against him, trying to fight her way free. He leaned back and brought his hand up. Her head reeled to the side, her lip splitting from the force behind his slap. She gasped and Dewei smirked crudely as he ripped the wrap from one of her shoulders.

"You will do what I say!" he whispered harshly against her ear.

Without warning, Bao brought her knee up between his legs. He hunched over immediately. Something crashed over the back of his head as he rocked forward, the wind gushing out of him as he clutched at his groin in pain.

Darkness swamped his vision for a few moments; blurs of darkness left him prone on the floor as he called for his guard.
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Bao knew before she had even done it that she had found her chance to escape from here. She had the halls and way to the back entrance memorized in her head. She knew with the right time frame she could get there without being caught. When her knee had collided with his groin, Bao thanked the skies above that she had very good aim and judgement for a blind girl.

Reaching behind her, she felt for the first heavy object she'd been able to find and grabbed hold of it with a stranglehold grip. Lifting it up, she smashed it over where she'd heard his breath come from.

Bao hoped she had killed him more than knocking him down. Tugging the torn wrap back up her arm, she moved quickly, grabbing for the stick she knew was by the door. The halls were full of noise and it assaulted her senses something terribly as she moved along; listening for the similar sound of Dewei's boots on the ground or the guards heavy thudding sandals.

Only a few more moments and she'd be free. Just a few more. Her heart pounded with the excitement of what she was about to accomplish.