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Chapter

KAESO

Meeting Clara

The 'Twilight Hour', as Kaeso referred to it, was when the slaves returned to their cells, and the dealers completed their transactions with each piece of garbage who won their respective bid that day. Lavish festivities complete with eating, drinking and repugnant fornication at the slaves' expense followed.

Kaeso finished his deal first and told the slave master, Duane, he needed to relax in his assigned quarters before the party.

"Sure man, whatever you need," Duane said, taking the coins Kaeso handed him. The Fresian capitol city of Creyos funded these missions through its governing council, which made his insides twist a little less than if he spent his own money. Duane opened a drawer and dropped the coins in one by one, counting as he eyed Kaeso. His blood froze, not knowing if it should drain from his face or fill it with fiery rage. When the last coin clanged into the drawer, Duane squinted. "Don't I know you?"

Kaeso frowned and shook his head. "We have never met."

"But, I swear you look like someone I know," Duane said, closing the drawer in a motion that lasted far too long.

"Sorry. I guess I have one of those faces." Kaeso ignored the instinct to reach for his weapon. He already counted at least thirty seven in the room. If he started chopping off heads, he would find himself in a cell too. "I usually go to the Lederin Plains camp, but they did not have anything I wanted."

Duane's scowl broke into a smile with eyes so blue they should have projected warmth given the shade, but instead they cast an eerie visage of immorality. They may as well have been black as coal. "Ivy is an excellent choice, my friend. I’m almost sad to let her go. She’s been one of my personal favorites for a long time, but it’s time for someone else to enjoy her. Don’t let her saltiness fool you, she loves to please, and,” he winked, “I assure you, she's had a lot of practice. You're gonna be one happy fucker."

Kaeso smirked and stepped away, picturing Duane's head on a stake. Not yet, though. There was still a job to do.

A guard escorted Kaeso down the tiny stairwell to a corridor of rooms reserved for buyers. He followed the guard down to the third door on the right, and as Kaeso lifted the key to unlock the door, a sharp cry erupted across the hall. The escort scratched his ass and snorted. "Someone's having a good time, eh?"

A mistreated slave, Kaeso concluded. Too soon to act, he made a mental note to investigate after his babysitter left. He opened the door and again, the cry stalled him. Kaeso gripped the door frame and dropped his head. Years later, when looking back, he would understand how and why that sound resonated with him.

A smile tugged at the corners of Kaeso's lips as he turned to face his escort and shrugged. The overconfident sentry raised an eyebrow before his eyes widened. He went for his weapon, but Kaeso's moved quicker, and he seized the guard into a headlock that broke his neck. The cracking sound traveled down the slim hallway, so he waited and listened for potential witnesses. There were none, and he lugged the over-sized prick with a serious hygiene deficiency into the designated guest room, which reeked of evildoing. He closed the door behind him and broke the key off in the lock. On silent feet, he crossed to the room in question.

The door latch released with a quiet click as he pulled on the lever, and he pushed it open unnoticed amid chortles of laughter. Within the poorly lit room, two guards stood over a female weeping in pain.

The Roman gritted his teeth and unsheathed his hunting knife.

Kaeso crept in behind one assailant and slit his neck from ear to ear. The other had little time to react before Kaeso drove the same knife up into his head through his throat, extracted it and jammed it into his liver. He laid them side by side and tied them together. With brisk skill, he severed their heads and tossed them across the room.

Nothing like a plan gone wrong to get the juices flowing.

Kaeso wiped the blade clean on the sleeve of a headless guard and secured it before turning to the slave. She had retreated into a corner and sat hugging her knees with her long locks shielding her face. The woman raised her head to him, and the brightest, most beautiful green eyes imaginable all but paralyzed him. They shimmered in the faint light, if that was even possible...

Fucking hell. Stay focused.

Without a word, Kaeso offered his hand to the woman. A curious expression crossed her striking features, and she stood without his help. She was about five-foot seven, with hair black as a moonless night, and, for heaven's sake, she was skin and bones. They must have starved her for weeks. When her nakedness dawned on him, he redirected his eyes, but she seemed unconcerned. He presumed she was twenty to twenty-five years old when she came to Altyria. Kaeso did not remember seeing her at the auction earlier that day, which meant she belonged to Duane. They always kept at least one for themselves.

Not anymore.

The woman tilted her head to stare at the enigma that just lightning bolted into her life. "You are not like the others. Who are you?"

"I do not mean to frighten you. I am here to help, and we need to leave. Now," Kaeso said.

Her dazzling eyes examined him for a few excruciating seconds. Would he allow the same time for her to consider her options if she were not as breathtaking? Probably not. Her eyelids then fluttered, and the long lashes framing her emerald gaze almost brought him to his knees.

Definitely not.

The woman clamped those soul-stirring eyes closed for a moment before wiping tears and sweat from her chin with the backs of her hands. "I know a way out; a hidden stairway that can take us to a tunnel leading to the opposite end of the mountain."

Awash in surprising relief, Kaeso's mind dictated what his soul already accepted. He would not leave Death Cliff without her. "Where can I find the others?"

She cleared her throat and spoke with a dry rasp, "The cells are two levels below us, and the tunnel is three levels up from here. The guards almost never take those stairs."

Kaeso paused as he worked the logistics aloud and took stock of the mini arsenal in his jacket, chest straps, and belt. "There were seventeen slave traders at the auction, and they are all on the main level right now. Since there are no other guards on this level, we can move toward the stairs you mentioned and slip out unnoticed. But we have to go now," he urged her toward the door.

Hesitant, her eyes widened from their natural, almond shape. She stepped forward and back again, trembling. "I - I do not know if I can. Are you sure you can do this?" Tears rolled over her flushed cheeks as she stifled a sob. The gooey mess occupying the space where his heart should be almost had him reaching out to her, but he restrained himself.

"Yes, I promise, you will leave this place today and never return." Kaeso knew better than to make promises. Those words fell from his mouth prior to the editing process. Dammit, he needed to reel in the knight in shining armor bit and concentrate on the present, precarious situation. This was no fairy tale.

Clothes. She still needed clothes. He pulled off his coat and handed it over. "Put this on, please," he said, averting his eyes.

Her forehead wrinkled for a beat and understanding softened the lines on her face as she accepted the coat. "I will return it to you." After sliding her arms through the sleeves and rolling them to her elbows, she fingered the buttons through their corresponding holes. With most of her skin now covered, it looked like she stepped into a deflated tent, stuck her head through the top and poked her arms out the sides. But the tiny amount of dignity he offered straightened her spine and lifted her shoulders. She rubbed her brow and sniffled as her jawline steeled and her eyes focused, replacing the anxiety that had kept her from approaching the exit moments ago with raw determination.

Kaeso was about to change her life forever, and he had an inkling she was keen to that already.

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