Page 15 of Stolen Fates
Without warning, the building’s door burst open and a man with rugged features and knives strapped to his belt strode into the room, followed by two others wearing red tunics.
Unfazed by their intrusion, Julia wrapped a thin, woollen cloak around her shoulders and went to meet the greasy-haired man. He held out a small coin purse for her.
At the doorway, she glanced back over her shoulder at Nik, remorse touching her face. “I’m sorry.” Then, she was gone.
Nik tugged on the gold manacle with no result. “What do you want?” he asked the newcomer standing in the middle of the room.
“My name is Castur, and I work for Lucius Aurelius,” the man replied in a flat, practised voice, as though he’d had the same conversation multiple times before. “You know of him, perhaps?”
Nik gritted his teeth. He’d heard the name in passing since he’d arrived in the city. Lucius Aurelius was Bruna’s arenamaster. The one who owned all the fighting slaves and organised the arena fights. “I’m not interested.”
“And yet, he’s very much interested in you, Achaean. That’s the Messenger’s Mark, correct?” The man, Castur, pointed to the pair of glimmering black wings circled in gold that adorned Nik’s left pectoral.
Nik paused. How had they known? They couldn’t possibly have found out about his earlier fight against the thugs and come so soon. Unless…
“Thesanthei,” he finally said.
Castur nodded. “Your client owed Aurelius a favour and told us an interesting story about an Achaean sellsword in his employ.”
Nik swung his legs down and sat up on the mattress. “He hired me to safeguard his caravan of goods from Illyria. Me and three others. I’m not a slave.”
Castur cocked his head, strands of greasy hair slithered across his forehead. He sneered, his mouth exposing a set of yellowed teeth. “Unfortunately, that’s your word against an upstanding citizen of Bruna.”
Nik clenched his fists. “I have paperwork to prove it.”
“Your papers are no good here, Achaean.” Castur’s smile widened and then he turned to the others. “Grab him.”
Though Nik tried to resist, without his magic or a weapon, the two bulky men in red tunics quickly overpowered him. They brought him to his knees and bound his arms and chest with rope.
A string of curses shot out of Nik’s mouth until a rough fabric was pulled over his face.
His ears caught Castur’s gruff laughter. “Save your energy for the arena. You’ll need it.”
It was the last words Nik heard before a sharp pain struck the back of his head.
When Nik woke up, his back ached from lying on a hard wooden surface. He found himself in a dark space. The walls looming close were slick with humidity and the pungent smell of blood and sweat assailed his senses.
He raised himself with a groan, his head pulsing with pain. The gold manacle still wrapped around his wrist glinted back at him and, ahead, the room was closed off with iron bars.
Not a room. A cell.
Acage.
“Finally awake,” a feminine voice spoke in the dark. Through a square opening in the wall, a cell neighbouring was exposed, showing signs of movement. Two glimmering silver eyes peered at him in the dim lighting.
He blinked twice. “Twelve be damned…” He’d never seen one of the legendary female warriors before, but he’d certainly heard a great deal about them back in Achaea. “You’re a… you’re an Amazon.”
The woman nodded, then took a step closer.
She looked different from the women he’d envisioned inhabiting the eastern shores of the Great Sea, with her fair complexion and radiant golden hair. Then again, there were whispers of women from all over the known world coming together in Ephesos, the Amazon city, to train and worship their patron goddess, the Huntress.
The one feature they all had in common, however, was their shimmering silver eyes—a Gift from their goddess. The Sight, they called it. Eyes that shimmered with magic, granting them superior vision over their adversaries and heightened anticipation in battle.
A Gift that Rasennan nobles coveted for themselves and stole right from their corpses.
“You’re Achaean?” she asked.
“Yes.” He was wary of answering any personal questions, but she didn’t pry further. “What is this place?”
