34. CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
“So, what’s the plan?” Alena asked.
The towering walls of Bruna glistened under the scorching sun, their surface seeming to ripple like water. Sun-dried mud brick walls stretched as far as she could see, with a single-entry point: arched wooden gates flanked by colossal marble statues.
Rasennan deities, no doubt.
“I have a friend in Bruna,” Leukos said.
Alena lifted her braided hair and wiped away the sweat trickling down her neck. Leukos, annoyingly, seemed perfectly at ease in the summer heat.
“A rebel friend?” she asked.
He nodded. “Something like that. Once we reach the city, we can scout the slave market first and visit my friend once night falls.” He drank from his waterskin, then poured the rest of the water over his head.
Alena retreated to the shade of a tree. From her spot, the short walk to the gates seemed impossible in the baking heat.
Leukos swept a hand down his face, shaking off beads of water. Strands of hair stuck to his sun-kissed skin, framing his sharp cheekbones.
Alena’s breath caught in her throat when his gaze met hers. She glanced away and busied herself with her satchel. “Are your wounds bothering you?”
“No, they’re fine.”
They were far from healed and putting him in a foul mood, but her Megarian idiot was too proud to admit it.
She released a sharp sigh. “Your wounds are ‘fine’ when I tell you they are ‘fine’. If there’s any sign of swelling or redness, you have to tell me straight away.”
He cut her a look, then took off, not even honouring her with a response.
Alena pinched her lips before trailing after him.
The audacity of that man! How could the son of a Silver Shield have such terrible manners? It infuriated her how he kept quiet about his wounds, refusing to admit any pain or discomfort unless she put her foot down. At least he drank the healing tea she brewed for him every night despite its terrible taste.
Halfway to the gates, the colossal stone statues guarding the wall loomed into sight. Their finely sculpted features made them seem lifelike.
Leukos jerked his chin. “Laran, the Rasennan god of war, and the Emperor. We’re in their territory now.”
“They seem so real.” The god’s sculpted physique, draped in a crimson mantle, and the blue jewels in his eyes created a fierce impression.
Her companion scoffed. “These are nothing next to the statues in Megara.”
“Is Megara larger than Bruna, then?”
He arched an eyebrow, giving her the same haughty glance she’d come to loathe over the days she’d spent with him. It always made her feel like some uneducated idiot. “Megara is the largest city of Achaea and the birthplace of the arts. Bruna is merely a fraction of its size; its city defences aren’t even made of stone.”
His patronising tone irked her. He was only a few years her senior—twenty, as he’d once confirmed, just like Katell.
“I’d like to see it someday,” she answered, maintaining her composure. “It sounds incredible.”
Her words seemed to catch him off guard, and his expression softened. “Someday, I hope you do.”
They announced themselves as travellers to the city guards, who after a quick inspection, granted them passage inside. Alena followed Leukos’ lead, heading down the main road through the city and towards the marketplace.
Crushed flowers of all shapes and colours covered the dusty path beneath their feet. They must have missed a recent celebration or festival.
The further they marched towards the centre, the bigger and more elaborate the houses became. Dirt roads gave way to cobbled streets with high stone pavements on either side, bordered by shops and stalls selling yards of cloth, jewellery, and above all else, food. Above neat lines of deep terracotta jars, vibrant frescoes depicting the shopkeepers’ specialities graced the walls. Ceramics, wine flasks, and amphoras filled the stores, along with patrons clamouring orders.
Incredible sights and enticing smells pulled Alena in every direction, but she kept one eye on Leukos, scared of losing him in the crowds. The row of shops transitioned into larger walled houses, leading up to a magnificent colonnaded building in the distance.
Alena stopped in her tracks, her heart racing at the sight of the painted mantels and terracotta roof. Her father had described the temples and forums of the Old Lands to her a dozen times in his stories, but reality dwarfed any vision she’d concocted inside her head.
“Don’t get lost now.” A warm hand closed around her wrist, and Leukos steered her towards a blinding marble staircase.
A hefty man, wrapped in colourful folds, stood atop the steps, his booming voice smothering all other sounds as he read from a scroll. Men gathered, dressed in a similar fashion, and listened with intent.
Warning shouts rang out behind them, and Alena jumped out of the way. A group of muscular men strode by, carrying a wooden litter with an overhead canopy, its occupant hidden behind sheer curtains.
Alena and Leukos followed the crowd and soon stumbled upon a sprawling open market. Fruit, beans, and nuts of all shapes and sizes were spread out before her. Sellers shouted in a continuous cacophony, hoping to attract their next customer. Linen bags, wool dresses, and silks from Serica hung from every stall, their bright yellows, blues and greens inciting customers to admire and touch them.
Further on, men surrounded rows of pens holding pigs and sheep, bartering and shouting as they exchanged leather pouches and coins. Alena had never seen so many people in one place before.
The foul smell of piss hung in the air, and she covered her nose. When she turned away, she found herself alone in the crowd, and her pulse quickened until she spotted a familiar head of tousled black hair.
Leukos strode forward, an apple in each hand.
“Did you steal them?” She glanced around, expecting an angry merchant to come after them.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “No, I kindly borrowed this from an unsuspecting noble.” He dangled a leather pouch from one hand.
Alena’s jaw went slack. “You stole money? Don’t they cut off your hand or hang you for that? What if you got caught?”
He raised an eyebrow and took a healthy bite of his apple. “I wasn’t. And not that I enjoy taking money from others, but we’re both starving, and this pouch is nothing to a Rasennan noble. And no, if you get caught, the Rasennans don’t maim or hang you, that wouldn’t be entertaining enough. Instead, they send you to the amphitheatre.”
His smile dropped, and he pointed at the circular stone building across the marketplace, towering above all others. The roars rising from within were loud enough to compete with the boisterous stalls.
Alena had never heard anything like it. “What is that?”
His expression darkened. “Nothing to worry about for now. Eat your apple, and then let’s take a walk around the slave corner.”
Continuing their exploration, Leukos left her side again to inspect the horses while the cages holding wild animals caught Alena’s eye. Small children gawked at the lions and other exotic beasts, whispering and giggling.
Leukos caught up with her when she finished eating, and together, they approached the stage holding a slave auction.
“Let’s take a closer look.” He veered to the right, avoiding the bustling crowd. “I doubt your sister would still be at the market for sale after so many days, but luck may be on our side yet.”
Alena nodded, wringing the leather strap of her satchel. If there was a chance that Katell was still in the market, then she’d search every corner of it.
Beyond the stage, the slave corner occupied most of the forum. Row upon row of slaves stood together, guarded by traders armed with swords and whips on their belts. The men and women came from all over the Empire, some with tanned, olive skin similar to Katell, others with smooth obsidian undertones, or pale and translucent as milk. The men were separated from the women and children, with some clad in tattered rags and others devoid of clothing—completely exposed to the prying gazes of potential buyers.
The dehumanising display shook Alena to her core. Stripped not only of their clothes but also of their identities, the slaves were reduced to mere commodities.
Further behind the men, more children were bundled in wooden carts while their mothers sat on the straw-covered ground. Thick rope tied their waists and wrists together. Half-naked men squatted in the shade of the stalls under the watchful gaze of slavers. Flies buzzed around them, and heavy chains secured to their hands and feet clinked with their every movement.
Alena’s heart hammered against her ribs, her gaze darting from face to face, desperate to spot dark, braided hair and green eyes.
The carts and stalls gave way to wooden cages, and she froze. Ahead, a group of slavers were dragging female slaves away, separating them from their children by force. Prospective buyers, wrapped in long robes, watched with interest. Children of all ages cried and shouted through the iron bars of their cages, their limbs nothing but skin on bone.
She sucked in a sharp breath.
“Alena.”
A skinny woman clad in a grimy tunic torn across her chest slipped past the guards. With outstretched arms, she rushed towards the cage, shrieking for her child, before a guard hauled her back. She struggled in his grip until his cane hit the bare skin of her thigh, and the other slavers rained down on her.
Her screams set Alena’s blood on fire.
“Alena!” A strong grip squeezed her arm. “What are you doing?”
She fought against Leukos, blood thundering in her ears. “Let me go! I have to stop them.”
The beating ended as quickly as it had begun, and the slavers picked up the defeated mother, dragging her towards the auction stage.
Alena’s whole body shook. “Leukos, we have to stop this.”
“Calm down. You’re making a scene.” The grip around her arm tightened. “Put the dagger away.”
She blinked, finally noticing the blade in her hands. She didn’t remember pulling it out of her satchel. Breathing hard, she glared at the curious stares from the crowd and stashed the dagger away. As the auction unfolded on the raised stage, she yanked her arm free and walked away, unable to stomach the proceedings.
She didn’t know where she was headed, but in that moment, she wanted to scream.
How? How could the Rasennans enslave so many? Kidnap entire villages and sell them for a price?
How could the crowd simply stand there and watch families be torn apart? Why wasn’t anyone stopping it?
Hot tears filled her eyes, but she quickly brushed them away, feeling Leukos’ presence at her back.
“I can’t”—her throat tightened—“I can’t watch those poor people…”
She pressed her fingers to her mouth, unable to stop the flood of tears while Leukos guided her towards a deserted staircase.
“Here. Sit down and take a deep breath.”
She focused on her breathing, tears trailing down her cheeks. Above her, colourful paintings plastered the colonnade’s arched ceiling. How the Rasennans could create such beauty, yet still celebrate war and slavery, was beyond her.
“I don’t suppose the Freefolk keep slaves.” Leukos sat next to her, facing the bustling market before them.
She shook her head.
“It must be nice.” His tone was genuine, and he extended his waterskin to her. She accepted it, touched by his kindness during her moment of distress.
“I’m sure you already know King Pandion’s father outlawed slavery in Megara,” he continued, “so I didn’t grow up around slaves, either. But when I visited other Achaean kingdoms, I was always faced with it. Owning and trading slaves is the natural order for most kingdoms and tribes in this world, and even more so for the Empire. Their whole economy is built around it. How do you think they were able to build such large cities? And feed all their citizens? Who do you think mines the salt that preserves our food?”
“I know. I’ve read the texts. And we were captured by slavers after all.” She took a sip of water before facing him. “But that doesn’t make it right. It doesn’t make what they did to that woman right.”
“I know.” She expected a sharp rebuke from him, another haughty glance, but instead his voice was gentle, and his brow furrowed with solemn understanding. “But few people think that way. Those slaves are prisoners of war, and in the mind of a Rasennan citizen, an Achaean, or even a Westerner, they’re destined to a life of slavery. But not all are treated unkindly. Most masters take good care of their slaves because they need them to perform their daily tasks well. Slaves with a trade are highly valued. They can earn money and even buy their freedom.”
“But not all of them,” Alena said in a small voice.
“Not all of them.” He shifted closer, plucking the waterskin from her hands. When she glanced up, his dark gaze locked on hers. “You have a kind heart, Alena. But if you want to survive in this world, you have to cover it in steel.”
Cover it in steel and never get hurt. Never feel anything at all.
It sounded like a terrible way to live.
“Is that what you did?”
For a brief moment, his expression faltered, exposing a hollowness that Alena knew to be the familiar ache of loneliness she’d often felt in her own heart. He averted his gaze, and the fleeting vulnerability disappeared, replaced by his usual stoic mask.
Her question remained unanswered, hanging between them like a curse.
No matter how close they were growing, Leukos revealed very little of himself to her. She’d trusted him with her secrets, yet she barely knew anything about him. Did he ever open up to anyone?
He stood, hung the waterskin at his belt, and offered his hand. “Let’s head to my friend’s house. I never should have brought you here.”
“No.” She stood up on her own, an idea slowly taking shape. “I didn’t come all this way to give up now. I’m going to save Katell no matter what. But first, let’s put that money you stole to good use.”
His brow rose. “What do you have in mind?”
With a sigh, she shifted her attention to the market. “Let’s go buy us some slaves.”