Page 4 of House of Serpents and Slaves

The soldier's blade flashed, and Tarus’ sword splintered under the weight of the blow. Another strike and the metal blade sank deep into my brother's chest. A cry of anguish tore from my throat as my brother crumpled lifeless before me.

"Tarus!" I screamed, my voice raw with anguish. I thrashed wildly against the soldier's grip, desperate to reach my fallen brother. "No! Let me go!"

I screamed, my voice raw with grief and horror as Tarus fell. The soldier holding me clamped a hand over my mouth, muffling my cries. I thrashed wildly, tears streaming down my face as I watched my brother's blood seep into the dusty ground.

"Shut her up," one of the soldiers growled. "We were supposed to leave no survivors."

“Wait, Darcius," said another, eyeing me with a calculating look. "The girl's young. She could fetch a good price at the slave markets in the city. No one would know."

My captor's grip tightened. "And the boy?"

The first soldier glanced at Septimus' unconscious form. "He's old enough to be trouble. Better to finish him off."

Terror gripped me as the soldier raised his blood-stained sword. I struggled harder, tears streaming down my face. "Please," I begged. "Please don't—"

"Wait, he's strong. Could fetch a decent sum too. There’s an arena not far from here."

“Fine.”

The soldier holding me didn't pause to let me mourn my brother. He simply placed his hand on the back of my neck and with a vice-like grip steered me back towards the houses. One of the others picked Septimus up, throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of wheat. We passed the other soldier and I glared up at him.

"You disarmed him. You didn't have to kill him," I said, hatred seeping into my words. "He was just a boy."

"He was nearly a man," said the soldier, leaning down to wipe his blade clean on a piece of Tarus’ tunic. "And he raised a sword against a soldier of the Emperor."

"He was defending me," I insisted, tears streaming down my face. "And if you're the soldiers of the Emperor, why are you killing your own people?"

"The punishment for high treason is death," answered the soldier.

"Treason?” I gasped. “What are you talking about?”

"Leave it, Arilius," barked the soldier holding my neck. Arilius shrugged and walked away.

Arilius, I thought, engraving the name into my memory, as if I were carving it into stone.

"Move!" growled the man holding me, shoving me forward so that I stumbled and nearly lost my step. I tried to glance back one last time, catching a glimpse of Tarus lying face down, blood seeping into the dirt beneath him. Fury and grief filled me and I tried to turn back, but the soldier's grip tightened. Not caring about the danger, I turned on him hitting and kicking uselesslyat his armour as I screamed. A blow caught me across the face and I fell backwards, landing hard on my back, the air driven out of me.

"Fucking kids," grumbled the soldier, before bending down and hoisting me up, tossing me over his shoulder. Still gasping for breath, I hung limply as he carried me back into the village and into the square.

I scanned the scene with dull eyes, searching for any sign of life amidst the sea of corpses. But there was nothing - only death remained. I looked over to where my father's offices stood. The grandest building in the village, bar the temple, it was the centre of village life. I remembered back only a few weeks ago, to the most recent festival when the doors had stood open and the celebration had spilled into the square with feasting and music and games. Tarus had sneaked a couple of servings of rak when our parents hadn't been looking and had danced wildly with me for several turns, until he'd started losing his meal behind one of the houses. I had teased him about it for days afterwards.

Now the doors of the hall had been smashed open, splintered wood clinging to twisted hinges. Blood and gore soaked the stone steps, the stench of death heavy in the air. The large canopy that had hung over the door had been ripped down and the wood frame had been commissioned for another use. My eyes widened as I suddenly realised what was hanging from the frame and I began to scream.

The soldier ignored me, crossing to a caravan wagon they must have taken from Ursi's store. He threw me into the back and I cried out as I collided with the wooden floor. Septimus was dumped on top of me and he groaned as he rolled to the side then fell silent again. Scrabbling to my knees, I turned and looked back at the bodies hanging in front of the hall.

Two of the village elders, and my parents, had been strung up for everyone to see. Their throats had been slashed and mymother's body was naked. I clapped my hands to my mouth as bile rose in my throat. I wanted to scream again, but no sound came from my mouth as I stared at the brutality before me. Beside my mother swung four other bodies I didn't recognise. Talfen.

The significance of their presence didn't register with me, the shock of seeing my murdered family too much to bear. I retreated back into the wagon, sitting down and bringing my knees up into my chest, wrapping my arms around them. I rocked silently, my eyes still on the swaying bodies, numb with shock and grief.

The wagon began to move, and the thought crossed my mind that they hadn’t tied me up. I could just jump down and run, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave Septimus. I just sat and rocked, staring at the ruins of my village through the wooden slats, bile and anguish churning within me.

Everything I loved, everything I knew, had been ripped away in a flash of steel and shadow. I was hollow inside, a shell of the girl who rose with the dawn to practice her swordwork. The girl who had complained about number problems the day before. The girl who'd squabbled with her brother over the last piece of bread at dawnmeal only a few hours ago. That part of me was dead, ripped away like the lives of my family.

I barely noticed when the wagon trundled down the dirt road, away from the only home I had ever known. I sat motionless, hollow eyes fixed on the receding silhouette of my village. One of the soldiers spat a wad of tobacco onto the ground.

"Look at this one. Prime stock for the arena or the brothels." He leered at me, eyes raking over my slight form. "This one will fetch a high price. Pretty features, fiery spirit. The patrons will eat her up."

I flinched, bile rising in my throat. I hugged my knees to my chest, willing the nausea to pass. I would not give them thesatisfaction of seeing me break. They had taken everything from me - I would not relinquish my dignity. I curled up as small as I could, and stayed quiet.

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