The bald man cut off the manacle on the youth’s left wrist and the shackles on his ankles. The right-hand manacle he left for some reason. But because he had taken the chain off the ring, it didn’t dangle awkwardly like before.
The youth looked down at his wrists and ankles. The feeling of heavy steel was repugnant, but he was used to it, along with the callouses over the scraped, even scarred flesh where the metal had touched. The sudden lightness in his arms and legs was peculiar to him.
“Rest a bit, yeah? You’ve got to start earning your keep from tomorrow.”
For some reason, the bald man seemed gleeful as he spoke his words with a wide grin. All incomprehensible to the youth. The man, sensing that the youth couldn’t understand him, smiled even wider as he shut the door to the little hut he had put the youth in.
The youth sat for a while in the peace and calm. At first, he was afraid, but because nothing bad was happening, he gradually began to relax.
On the dirt floor of the hut was a straw mat. Having only ever felt black rock against his bare body for as long as he could remember, that thin straw mat was as soft as cotton fluff to him. The hut was dim but nothing like the absolute darkness of the cave. The air was warm and soft, lightly fragrant with fresh grass and earth. Between the straw of the thatched roof, the stars sparkled above.
He thought of how he’d smashed his steel chains against the walls of the cave just to see a single spark. Had some giant trapped inside the cave of the night sky struck their chains against some unimaginably large wall to create the stars? Had they done it as a cry for help? Or to endure, somehow, the emptiness and darkness? He had no way of knowing. Whatever the reason they were banging their chains against the walls, the trapped giant, like the insect that had crawled by him, could only toss him a disinterested glance.
That was his last thought before drifting off to sleep.
VII
The bald man woke him up early in the morning. The man’s many underlings had the youth’s body and hair washed and his tangled locks cut off. Whenever the youth struggled in fear, the bald man pressed down with his fat, white hand on the scar on the nape of the youth’s neck. It was strange how well he knew how to make the youth obey.
After the washing and the haircutting, the bald man’s followers slathered the youth’s body in oils and put him in ornate trousers. He wasn’t given anything to wear above his waist, so the scars on his arms and upper body were laid bare. The oils made the triangular scars on his body shine like threatening tattoos.
After this preparation was over, the bald man fastened a chain to the cuff on the youth’s right hand. The old chain had been rusted red and was heavy and awkward, but this new chain, while just as thick, was much lighter, its black sheen gleaming in the sun.
The black color made him think of It, blocking the entrance to the cave, its stiff feathers. But because the bald man was now gently tugging at the chain, he came back to his senses and obediently began to walk as he was ordered.
On foot, they eventually arrived in a large square in the middle of a village. At a gesture from the bald man, his followers drove pegs into the square and made a kind of fence. The bald man, chain in his hand, smiled as always while watching them work.
The villagers started to arrive as the fence was being completed. The youth, like before, was staring at the overwhelming crowd in wonder. When they were fully surrounded by the crowd, the bald man detached the black chain from the youth’s cuff and gave him a light push.
“Now, go fight.”
The youth couldn’t understand him. He stood at the entrance, a gap in the wooden fence, and could only stare at the faces of the people gathered around and that of the bald man.
The man grinned again. “You idiot. Go fight! Bite! Shoo!”
And he shoved him hard into the empty space inside the fence.
The people around the fence roared in delight. So strange and loud was this sound to the youth that he recoiled in fear.
When he raised his head, he found himself face to face with a large, black dog that was foaming at the mouth and had murder in its eyes.
Naturally, he had no idea this was a dog. It had been far too long since he had seen any kind of animal, wild or livestock. But its bloodshot eyes and the sharp fangs that glinted through the foam allowed him to instinctively understand what was happening.
The youth looked behind him. The gap that the bald man had pushed him through was now blocked.
Without taking his eyes off the dog’s bloody stare, he started to shuffle sideways, step by slow step.
And another step.
Just as he turned his head to seek another escape, the black dog made a soundless leap for the youth’s neck.