Imagine a poor, innocent dove. Its wing is wounded and it is covered in dirt such that its beautiful white feathers have been discolored. Who would hurt such a beautiful creature?

  This is how Bardom felt when he laid eyes on Princess Adella, when he finally found her in Aya Ralu’s captivity.

  Donning a hood over his armor, Bardom exited Kagarani’s quarter of the city on the back of a borrowed horse. It cost him five silver for the horse, but it was necessary to traverse the length of the city safely at night. Stet-Lek was large, far larger than Katan-Bat. While trotting on the brown mare, people recoiled in fear from him. Enough of his armor was visible for it to be clear he was a soldier, but only knights rode horses. Little did they know that it was just a slave that did not own any coin.

  Once he exited Kagarani’s territory, If he saw a large patrol troop he turned down a side street. If he saw too much light, he kept his head down. Ralu’s quarter was a harder place than Kagarani’s. The soldiers mistreated the people. The Shavuim were worked far too long and far too hard. Ralu’s entire mentality was on display. Extort. Take. Abuse. Repeat.

  I must stop thinking of this injustice, he thought. What could I do for these people?

  Slavery was outlawed in Katan-Bat and Stet-Lek for centuries. However, when Rontisil won the war that left him king of Stet-Lek, he allowed his friends to take Shavuim to supply their armies with fighting men, only later to deploy the females and their children as maidservants to nobles. Then peace persisted and Shavuim of both sexes were put to work, building up the city, building ships, and, for Aya Ralu, forging weapons for his army.

  The smiths banged through the night, the consistent dinging of hammers hitting his ears.

  The thought came again as he passed Shavuim speaking in their native tongues, eating soup despite the heat. Across the street, children ran alongside his horse, little more than skin and bones. Bardom could not tell if these were Shavuim or free Lekkians. It did not appear to be freedom.

  “Sir knight, we are so hungry!” one child spoke up.

  Bardom stopped, he fished three silvers out of his pocket, one for each child. “Hands.”

  They each reached up eagerly. He placed one coin in each of their hands.

  Seventeen left, he thought. Damn my warm heart. Adella needs me, and I am giving away silvers…

  The White Building was a three story pleasure house next to Ralu’s stronghold, towering over its entrants. An acre away, the lord’s keep sat. It was a mansion rather than a castle like Kagarani’s, but was fortified like one, nonetheless. Guards patrolled the balconies and the layered rooftops, with spires high in the air. Bardom exhaled through his nose, then turned his attention back toward the White Building with its marble pillars and arched windows. That keep was an infiltration for another day. Tonight, he only had one goal.

  “May I take your horse, sir?” a hunched stableman asked, taking his reins.

  Bardom nodded, letting his chin drop and his back hunch, erasing his royal composure. I am Na’Vanad, now, do not forget it. One mistake could lead to my demise, and Adella’s.

  The stableman looked expectantly at Bardom with his hand extended, and he could not help but roll his eyes. He gave him a silver, and hopped off the horse

  A patrol of Ralu’s men walked past him, none even looking at him. Nevertheless, he let out a relieved breath as he turned toward the entrance from beneath his black hood.

  Two formally dressed guards stood before the door and waved him in smoothly. In the entry room, a woman waited inside at a fine wooden podium. Bardom frowned as he noticed the white marble floors, surrounded by white painted stone walls and wooden ceilings. This would cost several fortunes to build at this scale.

  Then he noticed the woman at the podium—simply gorgeous. Her black hair cascaded over tan skin, with dark eye shadow and liner, her eyes striking in the shadowy warm light of candles and lanterns. So inviting.

  “Ladies,” she said in a soothing command.

  Two women approached Bardom, one on each side of him. They touched his shoulder pads and torso as they giggled. When one reached for his hood, he grabbed her wrist swiftly. She gasped with a flash of fear, then retreated into a practiced seductive look.

  “Don’t,” he warned in a steady voice.

  “What are you hiding, sir?” she asked playfully.

  The woman at the podium snapped, her voice like a cracking whip against the soft ambiance. “A broken whore will cost you!”

  Bardom released her.

  “No weapons or masks inside,” she continued.

  The ladies swiped his belt and sword before Bardom could protest. The other took his hood as he stammered.

  “Ah,” the hostess smiled, sensing that she had the power in this room. “If it isn’t the Shavu-Kara in love with Princess Bilsa! We have two ladies that look much like her, if you’d like them both.”

  Bardom cleared his throat softly, and stepped toward the woman, putting on an interested face as he let his inhibitions fade. There was nothing left to lose. Except for Adella, his conscience stabbed at him.

  He was a head taller than her and approached the podium. He enjoyed this game, and enjoyed intimidating this strong woman. “And if I wanted you?”

  “I would tell you that Shavuim are not welcome here,” she smiled in his face, “but that you could find my home very easily. In such private places, no one could know what you’d do to me.” She batted her eyelashes at him.

  Does she even know to be threatened? Bardom wondered. Or is attraction her defense?

  “I sense that you cannot afford to be here, Shavu-Kara,” she said, grinning knowingly.

  “What is your name, woman?”

  “Sali,” she said, confident in her position, “Shavu-Hiat to Lord Ralu.”

  Bardom pretended to know what that meant with a snicker. “Am I meant to be impressed?”

  “You are handsome, Shavu,” Sali said, entertaining his rudeness, “yet I also know well enough that you are not here to be impressed, nor my affection. Those you could have for free, if you wished.”

  Bardom raised an eyebrow in surprise.

  “Instead,” she grinned, “I’ll require your payment. That is, unless you’re interested in my offer.”

  Ralu must have ordered her to lure me away, Bardom thought. Stay focused.

  “It’s a rare brothel that requests payment before the rendering of services,” Bardom noted as he reached into his coin purse, taking two out and putting them in his pocket.

  “You speak too well for a Shavu,” Sali said. “Where does this mysterious man come from?”

  Bardom put the coin pouch down. “Elsewhere.”

  “Hm,” she counted the coins. “You know, there was a rumor that you’re Lord Vakin’s bastard son.”

  “Perhaps I am,” Bardom muttered, admiring one of the attending ladies rubbing his sheathed sword up and down slowly while showing off her body.

  “This is enough for half an hour,” Sali said. “None of the top-end girls. The older ones, and some of the middle-priced ladies might do it for the interesting stories you may tell.”

  “And you are free?” Bardom checked, sarcastically.

  “For you?” she smirked. “I know a man bound for success when I see one. I’d let you keep coming back, too.”

  “Tempting,” he said, “but I have one woman I want. The lady from Katan-Bat—she is here, yes?”

  The two ladies holding his belongings gasped, drawing Sali’s glare. “Shavu, I don’t think you really want her. You know Katanese mourning customs?”

  “I paid,” he said, “give me what I asked for.”

  “She is deeply broken in,” Sali tapped her fingers. “Each of the General’s vassals had their way with—”

  “I did not ask about that,” he said, with a sharp look in his eye, Na’Vanad fading, and Bardom flaring.

  “Yes, but—”

  “If I wanted a virgin, I’d have asked,” he said with another bite in his voice.

  Sali nodded slowly. “Come, Na’Vanad.”

  Bardom looked at the ladies, who now seemed to fear him, then followed Sali. She took him up winding stairs, passing the muted sounds of all manner of sex. He appreciated that Ralu made all chambers private. It would be rather difficult to speak with Adella otherwise. Additionally, it was a relief not to be subject to the sounds and sights of the acts going on behind those closed doors.

  Sali let him into a private chamber, then whispered to a woman standing beside the door. She left obediently, leaving Sali to guide Bardom to two chairs at a table.

  He sat and she began to take his armor off. “It must be relaxing to take this off, I would imagine.”

  Bardom nodded silently. “Where is the L’Ani woman?”

  “Coming,” she said, running her fingers from his ear to his neck. “I must explain to you how things are here, first.” She straddled him, leaving him scowling as she unlaced his undershirt. “To begin with, I must watch.”

  Bardom's frown deepened. “You must?”

  “The General does not wish to see his property damaged,” she said. “Even this specific choice has financial value, and men such as yourself can get carried away.” She leaned into him, wrapping his head in a lock with her arms. “Only so many women know how to stop a strong man from choking a woman to death when his mind has left him, leaving a monster behind.”

  He dug his fingers up her dress, inhaling her perfume, and feeling her skin. She brought her face to his. She had no idea how right she was about the monster within him.

  “Perhaps we should get started,” she feigned an erotic gasp.

  “Perhaps,” he ran his fingers through the hair on the back of her head, then gripped it tightly as she winced with startled eyes, “you should bring me the woman I requested, Shavu-Hiat.”

  She nodded nervously, her eyes fearing she’d miscalculated. “I warn you, sir. She cries every time. The men do not frequent her because of it!”

  “That does not bother me,” he grumbled, releasing her hair. “Now bring her in.”

  Sali caught her breath and nodded, standing up and recomposing herself. “Please be gentle with her. Please.”

  He nodded with true sympathy in his heart, but his eyes stayed hard. Sali turned to the door.

  “Wait,” Bardom said, he took out the last two silvers he had and raised them to her. “For you to wait outside.”

  She looked at the money, then him. That was more money than most Shavuim could receive in a year. “Will you hurt her?”

  Bardom blinked twice, then, dropping Na’Vanad’s cold voice, said, “I would never.”

  Sali hesitated, then took the money.

  She held it before him, shifting her pursed lips, deciding something.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “You hate the Lekkians?” she asked.

  “Some of them.”

  “Erdoegi?”

  Bardom said nothing.

  “I require an additional favor, Shavu-Kara.”

  Bardom raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

  “An Erdoegi officer raped three ladies this week,” she said. “The last one works here.”

  Bardom sat silently, exhaling through his nose and looking forward. Don’t get involved, he thought.

  “They say you killed Bardom L’Ani,” Sali said. “If that’s true, then you could kill this man easily. This man is far less dangerous than he was.”

  “Why is one slave girl’s honor so important to you?” Bardom asked. “I don’t need to get my hands dirty for you.”

  “Because she was delivered back to us broken, crying as she bled,” Sali said, her voice catching as the venom poured out. “She can’t walk because he broke her leg.” She swallowed as she blinked away a tear, shaking her head. “That woman has two children who don’t deserve to be orphaned. Ralu only demanded enough money to replace her.”

  Honor. Bardom could hear Wahda speaking. A knight has honor, Bardom.

  “Do you think I’m some hero of the Shavuim, then?”

  Her lips quivered as she looked over him. “Yes. I hope so. I can tell you weren’t always a Shavu, and now that you are you must see how horrible this place is for us. Take pity, Na’Vanad.”

  Bardom glanced down, then nodded. “Give me his name and where I can find him.”

  Sali seemed to lighten up. “Yes, of course. When you leave, I-l—” She closed her eyes and clasped her hands before her. “Please, Na’Vanad, be gentle with Lady Adella. ”

  “I will only show her love,” Bardom promised, standing up and pressing the coins into her hand.

  Sali nodded, believing him, then opened the door. Outside, she said something, then guided a hooded woman inside. She wore a tan robe, head bowed as she let Sali remove her hood. Bardom nearly gasped as his heart jumped into his throat.

  Adella had indeed taken to the Katanese mourning customs. Her head was shaved completely bald, her eyes red from crying. She could not look up.

  “The Lady Adella L’Ani,” Sali presented her, noting the look of sadness on Na’Vanad’s face. “Knock when you are finished, Na’Vanad.” She closed the door.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  Adella stood still, eyes looking unfocused toward the floor. Bardom took a deep breath as he observed her. There were bruises but no scars. She was still beautiful, despite her state. Her body language spoke of terror, for she would not even acknowledge him. He closed his eyes and exhaled

  “My dear,” he said softly, standing resolutely as a knight should for a princess, “they have hurt you. I am so sorry.”

  Adella’s eyes widened, quickly rising to look upon him. “Oh!” she breathed heavily and fell down onto his knees as her tears fell like rain. He knelt down and held her. “Oh, Bardom!” She buried her face into his chest and cried terribly. “They said you were murdered! They said—“

  “Shh!” he covered her mouth. “Bardom is dead. He has to be. I am only Na’Vanad. I am a simple slave soldier. That is all. Do you understand?”

  She blinked away warm teardrops onto his fingers and nodded silently. He released her lips.

  He heard her breathe as she hesitated asking her question. “My children…?”

  Bardom bowed his head down, then knelt to her. “I have failed you.” He felt tears fall from his eyes. “I am so sorry, Adella.”

  She nodded silently, choking back a sob as she squeezed her eyes shut.

  “I buried them myself,” he said. “I made sure they were laid to rest peacefully.”

  “Good,” she nodded through her tears. “That’s good.” She sat on the chair, and rested her chin on her hand. “Oh! My babies…” Bardom held her as she cried. “Oh, the agony…”

  “Hey,” Bardom took her hand in his and looked into her eyes. “We’re going to make them pay. This is our sole purpose now.”

  Adella cried for a moment, then let out a grief-filled laugh. “How?”

  “I am working on a plan,” he said. “It may take years. It may take a lifetime. However long it takes, I promise to get you out of here. I need you to stay strong.”

  Adella nodded. “You need to explain everything. I need to understand.”

  Bardom poured the tea left for them, and began to tell his story. He felt normal for the first time in weeks, thinking of himself as Bardom, truly, and not just the mask he wore to the world.

  Thank you, Yashin, he thought. Thank you for making me do this. He told her all he could.

  “General Kagarani,” she said after he finished. “I’ve heard his name, but I didn’t know he was an adversary to Ralu.”

  “Aye,” he replied. “To get to Rontisil, I’ll need to find a way around both of them. Without Vakin here, those two have the largest armies and a rivalry ready to boil over. While Rontisil's own army is large, he doesn’t like to get involved directly. He wants them to destroy each other in some way. So I’ll aid the better man, the one who didn’t enslave you, and chose to help me.”

  “Hm,” she looked at him, unsure if he was real. “You’ll need a new knighthood. It’s the only way for you to become more than a slave. It’s happened once before in this country. I’ve heard stories.”

  He agreed with a nod, happy to see that she wasn’t crying now. She’d always had a mind for schemes. Atzulah never needed any, but now that he was stolen from her, she’d need to put her skills toward honoring his memory. Bardom cared for her safety first, but he would’ve been lying if he said he hadn’t hoped that she would help him, too.

  “No one here knows what you look like?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “Only one man here knows my secret. I trust him.”

  “This ‘Yashin’?” she recalled. “How do you know he hasn’t sold you out to Kagarani yet?”

  “Because I’m still alive,” he said. “Kagarani is facing a difficult position, so Yashin is convincing him he needs me to triumph. Ralu is angling to dispose of him like he did to Vakin. Rontisil isn’t stopping it from happening. Yashin knows the value of having an accomplished knight on his side.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I will negotiate terms for an alliance with Ralu,” he said. “Kagarani is sending me. We leave in a week for the West Midlands, and we need his firepower.”

  “We,” she scoffed. That hurt him to his core, but he did not say anything to contest.

  Adella saw the look on his face and withdrew her disdain. “He doesn’t even know you’re a knight, why would he do that?”

  Bardom looked into space and pondered the same question. Why take that risk? Yashin had proven Na’Vanad’s worth in training the troops in his regiment, but beyond that he’d made a scene everywhere he went.

  “I suppose,” he finally said, “that I’ve done all he has asked, and has seen my intelligence. I believe he thinks I am the son of the dead Lord Vakin, and I am happy to keep up that ruse to suit my position.”

  Adella thought silently as she took it in. “Or perhaps he finds it a fair sacrifice to lose you if you fail.”

  Bardom nodded slowly as he thought about that. “I am expendable, even if Yashin has tried to make me seem invaluable.”

  “Indeed.”

  Their time was up. A bell jingled outside their door.

  “As soon as I can,” he said, after a moment’s silence, “I will come back, and I will get you out of here.”

  “Nowhere is safe for us,” she shook her head.

  “Trust me,” he said. “I will make this right.”

  “But—“

  “We have no other choice but to trust each other. I’m not asking you to hope, we both know they’ve stolen that from you. Instead, trust that I will make them pay for their crimes.”

  She nodded, sighing heavily. The two hugged.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wish there was another way.” He donned his armor. “Do they give you the Night’s Extract?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ll find some,” he said. “No matter what they do to you, they’ll not leave you with a bastard.”

  Adella’s eyes drifted to the bed. “I think about that. Then I remember the fear in my children’s eyes as they were taken from me. As they screamed. They tore off my clothes, and Aya Ralu entered my bedchamber. I can’t get the look on his face out of my head,” her voice broke and a few tears fell as she inhaled sharply. “When he took off his pants and forced himself on me, he told me that Atzulah was dead—he laughed as he said it! Those monsters laughed with him—they all laughed at my pain—!”

  She looked up at Bardom, her face stained with her sorrows.

  “Aya Ralu must pay, Bloodson.”

  Bardom felt the tension around his eyes and cheeks as he listened to her. Swallowing the fear her eyes instilled in him, he replied, “He will. In time, he will.”

  Adella lowered her gaze and looked off into space again. “Less men come now. I’ve made myself undesirable.”

  “That’s good.”

  “There is nothing good here,” she said. “We are slaves now. So far from home.”

  She still thinks there might be a way out of this. But there is no escape, Bardom thought. She’ll realize soon that the only way out is to win.

  “Do they keep you here?” he asked.

  “There’s a building they keep us in down the street,” she said. “They clean us and feed us, but otherwise it is harsh.”

  “What can I bring you?”

  She shrugged. “A book?”

  Bardom smiled. “A history?”

  “Histories of this place,” she decided. “We ought to know our oppressors.”

  “You sound like your father,” Bardom commented.

  “Wahda taught me well,” she agreed. As the bell rang again, she took his hand and said, “He wouldn’t have been disappointed in you. He’d be proud.”

  “May his memory be a blessing,” Bardom said quietly, recalling the years he and Wahda spent as student and teacher. He felt her eyes on him as he remembered. She knew how much Wahda meant to him. She knew how much it pained him to leave that all behind.

  A knock came at the door, Bardom quickly reached to put on his remaining armor.

  Sali poked her head in. “Satisfied, Shavu-Kara?”

  He nodded. “She’s a good lady.”

  Adella looked off, somber over her respite from misery ending. “Do come back.”

  Bardom bowed his head to her.

  Sali frowned at him as he exited the room, her gaze following him out. Bardom motioned for her to fasten his armor for him. As she did, she commented, “For someone who murdered her kin, you treat her with immense respect.”

  “You do not know what I did behind closed doors,” he said as Sali’s hands retreated to her sides. “Thank you.”

  She nodded, patting his chest plate. “Aye, but who bows to a whore?”

  As she looked back and forth between his eyes, he smirked. Bardom led her down the hall. “I’m starting to see the world beyond such trivial terms. Whore, slave, Shavu… who cares? We are all equal at the bottom. We all deserve respect, and no one else will give it to us.”

  Sali frowned.

  “Do you disagree?” he asked. “You’re a slave too, albeit a pretty one.”

  Sali glanced from the floor to him. “No, it’s a good point.”

  “I know something about you, Sali,” Bardom said. “You’ve given it away, perhaps by mistake.”

  “And what is that, Na’Vanad?”

  “Like me, you were not always a slave,” he said. “You speak like a noblewoman. Perhaps you were one, or perhaps just an unlucky servant to one. Either way, I can tell that you remember a life before you had chains placed on you.”

  Sali blinked at him as they stood in the main hallway leading back to the entry room.

  “And you’re certainly Lekkian with that accent,” he said. “I wish mine was as refined as yours.” He crossed his arms. “So who were you before you were the hostess of this brothel?”

  Sali glanced down with somber memories coming to her. “I was… I was a servant girl to the old princess, before the rebellion. I’d barely worked for her for a year when the war broke out. Lord Solili’s men… I remember when they took the princess. I wound up being sent to another lady’s house, and when Lord Ralu’s men took the property, they kidnapped all the ladies and made us whores. I was barely a woman then, so he had me learn the business. I managed the money for a long time, now I am in charge of the finest brothel in the country. I suppose that is something.”

  “Yet you live in a slum, and you can’t leave.” Bardom watched her. “I know what you feel. You have to pretend that this isn’t happening to you every day, even as you watch a woman like Adella L’Ani abused by horrific men. You feel it the same way I do. This place is backward. Rotten to its core.”

  Sali blinked away some tears, then heaved a shaky breath.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Maybe you’re right about me. Maybe I can be the hero for the Shavuim. But first they all must see that this is all wrong. That they deserve a better life.”

  Sali nodded. This was one risk Bardom actually feared taking, but her agreement was enough to tell him that the Shavuim weren’t worthless. Thousands of men, women, and children lived in Stet-Lek ready to rise up. That meant something. That was an asset to him.

  At the exit, the ladies returned his sword and put his raggedy cloak over his shoulders. Sali guided him outside as he bid the ladies a good night, while men came in and out, giving Bardom passive looks without a care, being far more interested in the women inside the White Building.

  “Your friend,” Bardom said. “Has she received any care?”

  She frowned at him. “There are no doctors for Shavuim.”

  “Hm,” Bardom looked at his horse. “Take me to her, let me see if I can help.”

  Sali hesitated. “Why?”

  Bardom gave her an impatient look. “Because if I can, I should. Now, let’s go.”

  He let her off the horse carefully as he looked over the slum. It was as active at night as it was during the day. Sali led him inside, as the Shavuim cowered in fear at his sight. They looked hungry and tired, old and young. On the first floor, a woman on a cot laid on her back, the only one he saw in the building. Several women surrounded her, dabbing her head with a wet cloth, which Bardom knew did nothing to dull the pain.

  “Aye,” Bardom muttered as he saw her leg. “No one thought to set it?”

  “Set?” Sali asked. “How?”

  Bardom knelt beside the woman, causing several others to jump out of the way. He rubbed her forehead with his thumb. “My dear,” he said. “I am going to put the bone back into place. It is imperative that you not move while I do so. I am certain it will hurt.” He waved for some Shavuim to hold down her limbs. “We’ll then need to immobilize the leg so that it can heal. You will be unable to move it for months.”

  “Just kill me, my lord!” she gasped. “The pain is unbearable.”

  Bardom sighed as he instructed the others to hold her down. He felt her lower leg and moved the bone into place, the woman gasping as she bit onto a rag. “Get me wood and linen,” he commanded.

  After Bardom finished the woman’s splint, he gave the Shavuim strict instructions on how to care for her. When one man brought up the other damage done to her by the rape, Bardom instructed the ladies to monitor her for infections, and to find him if she came down with a fever. There wouldn’t be much he could do for her if it came to that, but Yashin could find antiseptics if he asked, or at least something to numb her pain as her condition worsened.

  Sali was watching for some time, then left when she saw he was done. While he spoke to the Shavuim who acted as her nurses, Sali waited outside. Bardom found her waiting there, stroking his horse’s neck.

  She spared a glance at him, whispering something in a foreign language to the horse.

  He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

  “Where my father came from, they speak to animals,” Sali said. “They know the secrets of the universe. The Kahl speaks through them.”

  “Never heard of that before,” he muttered.

  “He was from the West Midlands,” Sali said. “They’re more religious there.”

  Bardom raised his eyebrows, looking around the slum as the cool breeze hit. The climate was warm in Stet-Lek, even at night.

  “Your horse agrees with me,” she said as she rounded on him.

  “On what?”

  “That you’re special,” she said. “What sort of slave beds a princess turned grieving whore, leaves her happy for the first time in a month, then rescues another slave’s life?”

  Bardom said nothing.

  “You didn't have to do any of it.”

  “When you are cursed with service,” he found himself saying, “everything is an obligation.”

  It wasn’t his saying, it was Wahda’s.

  Wahda you old fool, he thought. Even when I have only despair, your words guide me

  Sali took his hand. “For your reward, if you wish to have your way with me, I offer it. As gratitude for your kindness.”

  Bardom sharply removed his hand from hers. “I do not transact in sex.”

  Sali nearly laughed, “Then why did you pay me earlier? Where did you even get that silver?”

  “It was in my lord’s interest to know the state of Adella L’Ani,” he said. “I did not defile her.”

  Sali scoffed. “Right, ‘your lord’.” She crossed her arms. “None of these lords care about us. Not Ralu, not Kagarani. You expect me to believe that?”

  He let a smile touch his lips. “I’m glad you don’t. But I did not defile her.”

  She frowned in thought. “Did…?”

  Bardom watched her carefully.

  “Did you take her children from the young men who stole their corpses?”

  Bardom said nothing.

  Sali’s jaw hung slightly ajar. “What sort of slave are you?”

  Bardom stepped to mount his horse, then looked down at her as her hand crept onto his armored shoulder.

  “Well. My offer still stands. If I must bear a child, it would be an honor for it to be yours.”

  Bardom squinted at her. “Ah. I see it now.”

  “Hm?”

  “You serve Ralu as more than a brothel mistress,” he smirked.

  Sali’s eyes looked briefly frightened as she tried to dismiss the statement.

  “Do you think it is wise to ensnare me in a trap, my lady?”

  “I–”

  “Ralu sends you to me,” he conjectured. “You find yourself pregnant with my child. When Ralu most needs to extort me, he threatens you and the baby. An impeccable method of control, and an excellent way to have one of Kagarani’s own men agree to assassinate him, don’t you think?”

  Sali swallowed, opening her mouth carefully.

  He stepped closer. “But, you did not expect me to be a man of honor. You did not expect that I would help that lady, who is obviously important to you.”

  Sali looked up, her confidence gone. “She is my sister.”

  “Ah,” Bardom nodded, the street finally quiet, the wooden buildings reflecting the light of a few wan braziers. “Why even scheme, Sali? What’s he offering you?”

  “Freedom,” she shrugged. “I doubt it’s true, but it’s what he said.”

  “And what would you even do if you were free?” he asked.

  She parted her lips but could find no words to say.

  “It’s alright that you don’t know,” Bardom continued, “but perhaps my visit tonight will remind you why it’s important that you do.”

  She clasped her hands as her eyes grew solemn. “I don’t know what I’d do without my sister, Na’Vanad. Thank you.”

  “Did a knight really rape her?”

  She nodded.

  “Give me the man’s name,” he said.

  “Why does Kagarani care about Adella?”

  “He doesn’t,” he said. “You were right.”

  “Then why—?”

  “Give me the rapist’s name, Sali,” Bardom demanded with a firm glare.

  She stopped. “Sir Willago Denia.”

  “Is that the truth?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sali, tell it all.”

  “Yes!” Sali cried. “I saw him! I saw him walk out of the alleyway near the market, where she and I were buying food for her children. She lay there broken, bleeding, sobbing…”

  Bardom let her fall into him and cry. He hugged her loosely. “If you tell Ralu about this, then I will kill you.”

  She looked up. “My lips are sealed. Be discreet, and no one will know who killed him except us.”

  He nodded and mounted his horse. “I’ll call on you when I need you. Don’t forget what I did for you when I do.”

  Then he left, feeling the odd sensation in his chest that he should start crying.

  Bardom found Sir Willago drinking late that night. He followed him on his way home, walking in a drunken zigzag down the street. As he approached his house, Bardom whistled, moving in the shadows to confuse him.

  “Who’s there?” he growled with slurred words.

  Bardom stood across the street at the stable door, waiting for him to look over. When he did, the knight straightened.

  “Hey!”

  Bardom turned and entered the stable, commenting, “Fucking drunk.”

  “Oh!” he hollered indignantly, following him inside. Bardom climbed to the second floor interior balcony, waiting on the catwalk for him to enter. “Where are you!”

  “Up here,” Bardom stood with crossed arms, looking down over the wooden railing.

  The drunk knight ran up the stairs and prepared his sword. “Who do you think you are! Harassing me? I’ll have your head!”

  Bardom let him walk over, leaving his own sword at his side. “Good luck.”

  “Rah!” He launched a swipe, which Bardom dodged, following with a hook into the knight’s cheek.

  While the knight gasped in surprise, Bardom kicked the sword from his hand and grabbed him by the collar. “Did you rape that slave in the market today?”

  The knight spat in his face. “Which one?”

  “GRAH!” Bardom threw him through the wooden railing, sending him falling through the air and landing on his back with a THUD.

  “Ah…ow…” the knight moaned. Bardom grabbed the sword, and descended the steps, his face darkened by his hood. “You son of a bitch!” he cried. “I can’t feel my legs!”

  Bardom pinned Sir Wilago’s arm with his knee, and squeezed his throat, letting his one free arm swing wildly at him as he choked. When he finally stopped, Bardom put Sir Willago’s sword back in its scabbard and left out the back.

  That’s enough for one night, he thought.