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| William Allan |
“Smithy!” an oily voice called loudly.
Jon knew this voice, and it made him sick to his stomach just to hear it. It was Husain - a thug from the port - employed as ship’s whipper on cargo boats, invested in ‘crowd control’.
“I am in need of your craft” - he said, for no apparent reason with irony - then laughed a murky laugh - “we need cages - big cages … and manacles - with keys of course … and spikes big spikes.”
He went on to roll out his shopping list of his metallic requirements.
“My Da is dead, and he cannot work no more.”
“Well, you can do it Son. Good practise now you are the chief owner, I say.”
“I cannot. I know not how. I cannot.” Jon said this firmly that the oaf might hear him plainly.
Jon looked at the ground. In saying this he was lying to this hideous man. Yet even his father had refused work from the slave traders - and Jon felt exactly the same. The smell of this man was menacingly close by.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
Jon knew this voice, and it made him sick to his stomach just to hear it. It was Husain - a thug from the port - employed as ship’s whipper on cargo boats, invested in ‘crowd control’.
“I am in need of your craft” - he said, for no apparent reason with irony - then laughed a murky laugh - “we need cages - big cages … and manacles - with keys of course … and spikes big spikes.”
He went on to roll out his shopping list of his metallic requirements.
“My Da is dead, and he cannot work no more.”
“Well, you can do it Son. Good practise now you are the chief owner, I say.”
“I cannot. I know not how. I cannot.” Jon said this firmly that the oaf might hear him plainly.
Jon looked at the ground. In saying this he was lying to this hideous man. Yet even his father had refused work from the slave traders - and Jon felt exactly the same. The smell of this man was menacingly close by.
-Gabriel Brunsdon, Finding Self - Second Guesses- Azlander Series
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