Chapter 2: Life on the road

I was fourteen years old at the time, and my monthly fluxes were already becoming regular. I’m not sure what motivated Aafiq to accept the villagers’ proposal, but the prospect of sex with an attractive adolescent girl wasn’t the reason. I soon learned that I was the wrong gender for Aafiq’s sexual tastes, although he wasn’t blind to my blossoming body. He even went as far as to provide me with herbs to prevent a pregnancy, although I remained a virgin during the entire time I was with Aafiq.

Aafiq was a moderately talented artist in his spare time. Whenever he acquired something suitable on which to paint, he would have me strip naked and pose for his work. His artwork of me was soon a profitable sideline to his regular trade. He even painted my picture on a warrior’s shield. I wonder whether the sight of my naked body displayed on the warrior’s shield ever fatally distracted an enemy.

My status with Aafiq was ambiguous. I wasn’t a slave, but nor was I free to wander too far on my own. I suppose I was some form of indentured servant. In addition to being an artist’s model, my duties were to help with selling goods from Aafiq’s wagon, and attended to the cooking and laundry. At first Aafiq was misled by the villagers claims that I was a simpleton. It took a few weeks for me to convince him otherwise. I taught him the sign language that Father Siegfried had developed, to which Aafiq and I added a few more signals. Aafiq also expanded my understanding of several different languages, even if I couldn’t speak any of them.

We travelled widely for most of the year. We even ventured into Nenet territory at times. Aafiq knew the best towns and villages to buy and sell wares. Generally we bought goods in the larger towns to sell in the more remote villages and settlements. Aafiq adhered to many Bulaq customs and practises wherever we were. As winter approached, we travelled south, to spend winter in one or other Bulaq town or village. It’s during those extended winter stays that I acquired the habit of dressing in the Bulaq style, and adopting their mannerisms and customs. That wasn’t entirely by choice.

Among the Bulaq my social position was one step above that of a slave. I was expected to be obedient to the whims of my betters, and I was punished for any infractions. My worst misdemeanour was fighting with a village merchant who tried to force his attentions on me. For that crime I was confined to a cell for two weeks, with my wrists chained to the wall above my head. Unlike a slave, I was supposedly permitted to refuse overtures of sex from any males who lusted after my body. However, the law wasn’t applied uniformly, as I had discovered to my cost. Despite that incident, and being treated no better than some of their animals, the closeness of the Bulaq community gave me a sense of belonging.

That brings my story up to recent events. By my calculation, I’m now eighteen, perhaps nineteen, years old. Aafiq and I set out in mid summer to start on our usual trading circuit. In previous years, we left several weeks earlier in the season, but the past six months have been exceptionally wet and cold. While bandits have always been a hazard on the more remote sections of the road, Aafiq has always managed to bribe or cajole our way out of trouble. This year is different. A poor harvest last year, followed by the harsh winter and wet spring, means that the bandits are more numerous and desperate. Our first confrontation is disastrous. If Aafiq had simply allowed the bandits to rob us, he might have lived to tell the tale. But he chose to fight against impossible odds, and he died for his trouble.

Aafiq never allowed me to carry a weapon, even though I can fight with a small sword or knife. I can only watch in horror as Aafiq is cut down. I suspect that it’s only my fair hair and youthful looks that save me from the same fate. My captors obviously decide I’m worth selling as a slave. If they realise that I’m mute, they may reconsider, so I’m careful not to advertise the fact.