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"Child... what's your name?"
The boy paused for a moment, his expression turning awkward, and his voice became much softer.
"...They all call me Sodomy."
Sodomy? What kind of name was that? (Sodomy, in English,refers to sexual acts between men.)
"No, that is certainly not your name," Hedy fixed her gaze on his eyes and held the jewelry with gemstones tightly in her palm. "Child, what is your name?"
The boy appeared somewhat confused but finally answered softly, "Bazzi, ma'am. My name is Bazzi."
"Bazzi, hold my hand, give me some strength, will you?" she said, her voice softening.
Her Mediterranean-style long sleeves concealed her hand movements, and no one dared to interfere with her possessions.
—Clearly, the kidnappers had warned the ship’s owners. No one dared to let her escape or die from illness.
The boy hesitated but eventually took her hand, realizing what she was offering him.
"Bazzi, good boy. I need to ask you to do something." She could only take this risk; if she failed, she might face even harsher treatment later.
If she tried to escape with only her own strength, the burly guards would likely drag her back.
And if she cried out for help, the customs officers at the port might not even know the lord of Genoa and might think she was just a madwoman locked up.
The more she struggled, the more easily she would be bound, losing the last bit of her freedom.
The boy seemed unaccustomed to being treated with such respect and importance. He listened to her instructions, nervously nodding.
"Please..." She let her hand fall, looking like a pitiable, sick woman. "Make sure you give this silver ring to him."
"...You look a lot like my mother," the boy muttered. "I hope you recover soon."
"Sodomy! Sodomy! Why are you still hanging around here?" A maid, carrying a water bucket, noticed the old fisherman’s sonlingering nearby and rudely yanked him away. "Don't talk to her! Understand?"
The boy meekly nodded and quickly ran off.
Hedy watched as he ran back to the shore, and the maid helped her sit up.
"Sorry for taking so long to come back and take care of you," the maid said, nodding towards the guard, who then went off to the side to drink and rest. "We couldn't find any medicine for seasickness... I'm really sorry."
This fishing boat was indeed very small, and the dim room with a small wooden bed was the best accommodation she had.
Hedy allowed the maid to wipe her arms and neck, then quietly asked, "Why do you call that boy 'Sodomy'?"
"He's weak and submissive, like a little pederast!" A nearby guard let out a crude laugh, making an obscene gesture with the mouth of his wine bottle. "Even if a stray beggar wanted to spread his legs, this kid wouldn't dare to resist!"
Hedy took a deep breath, forcing herself to accept the vulgar and decayed atmosphere.
The people of this time had no respect for children.
If she ever made it back to Genoa... she would make sure to change these things.
"We'll be at the port in ten days. Please endure a little longer," another maid finally appeared with hot soup, speaking with a heavy Roman accent. "Drink a bit. When we depart tonight, maybe you'll get some fresh orange juice from the new supplies."
She silently nodded and continued her long wait.
The boy had just told her that the ship was heading to Rome.
