Enraged by Kaleb's defiance, Count Rief scrambled to his feet, the veins in his neck bulging.
"Guards!"
The word tore from his throat, his voice sending echoes into the night sky, the sound bouncing off the walls of the shed as two soldiers snapped into action, their armored steps ringing with urgency.
With a dramatic motion, he extended his arm and pointed a finger directly at Kaleb, the gesture sharp and accusatory, like a sword poised for attack.
"You dare lay a hand on me?"
Count Rief's face flushed red, his entire body quivering with indignation. His finger, accusatory and rigid, stabbed through the air, pointing directly at Kaleb, as if demanding justice for the insult he had just endured at the hands of a mere slave.
The guards clamped their hands firmly around his arm, dragging him backward. His muscles strained as he twisted and jerked, trying in vain to break free.
He thrashed, pulling against the iron grip holding him, as his voice, hoarse but fierce, ripped through the air.
"I won't let you touch her,"
"Kill the wretched thang! Maybe that will teach him!"
Count Rief snapped, wiping his mouth as he tried to regain his composure.
One of the guards drew a sword strapped to his waist with a swift motion, the blade glinting ominously in the moonlight as he pressed it against Kaleb's neck, poised to draw blood. His eyes were cold, ready to carry out the order without hesitation.
Suddenly, from the shed, a voice cut throughthrough the tense air.
"No! Leave him alone!"
It rang out, fierce and trembling. She frantically covered her exposed body, desperation fueling her cry. Her steps were quick as she rushed toward Kaleb.
She grabbed the arm of the guard, dragging it back, but before she knew it the second guard grabbed her, pulling her back.
She thrashed against his grip, her eyes fixed on Kaleb.
"I said leave him alone you idiots!"
She continued to thrash around, her every movement making it harder for the guard to keep his grip tight.
"Leave her the fuck alone! I know you can hear me! I said leave her the fuck alone!"
Meanwhile, Count Rief, watching her futile efforts, raised a hand. He gestured for the guard to pause. A malicious grin spread across his face as he watched Atara's desperate struggle, taking twisted pleasure in her helplessness.
"Laura,"
"Yes my lord?"
"Did i not task you with educating these slaves?"
"You did, my lord"
"So why are they behaving in such a manner before their master?"
"I shall rectify this immediately my lord"
In response, she stormed forward, her expression twisted with contempt.
"Have I not taught you to know your place, slave!"
Her words snapped out, accompanied by a strike across the face that echoed. Atara gasped in shock, stumbling back, her hand instinctively flying to her cheek as she reeled from the blow, her eyes wide with defiance.
"Hold him still!" the count ordered, dusting off his disheveled clothes as he glared at Kaleb with disgust.
"I really should have you executed right this instant, you wretch. But that would be of no benefit to me. I paid quite the sum to purchase you after all."
He wiped the sweat from his brow, he leaned in close, his breath hot and wreaking of alcohol.
"Instead... I will make you suffer."
"Take him to the servants' common room, and have him stripped naked and beaten until he learns his place."
His gaze turned cold and detached, his voice devoid of emotion.
"And for good measure tie and leave him there overnight. But take care not to kill him, I have something special planned for him."
Kaleb's eyes blazed with fury, a deep, simmering rage igniting in them as the guards tightened their grip, dragging him away. His body tensed, muscles straining against his captors, but exhaustion and pain rendered his struggle futile.
Atara's voice, thick with desperation, cut through the air again as she struggled to break free from the guard restraining her.
"Stop! Let him go!"
She screamed, her voice cracking under the strain of her fear and anger.
But all her protests fell on deaf ears as Kaleb was hauled into the distance, his furious gaze never leaving Count Rief.
Kaleb struggled as the guards dragged him away, but he had no strength left, his earlier wounds pulsed with sharp pain, each step an added torment. His vision blurred, a haze of exhaustion and agony clouding his thoughts.
In the moments, before they pulled him away completely, his gaze met Atara's. Her eyes were wide with fear, and her expression raw with helplessness. He had stood up for them and defied the count's cruelty, and now he would pay the price.
A crowd gathered in the common room as Kaleb was dragged through the halls of the servant's quarters. They all stood by as Kaleb's clothes were ripped off, leaving his naked body exposed.
As they were ripped away, the crowd grew vicious. A woman cackled, pointing as he tried to cover himself.
"How pitiful!" she laughed.
"Leave him like that, let him feel the dirt beneath his feet like the animal lover he is!"
Another called out, fueling the guards' cruelty.
With all his clothes ripped away, the guards began their merciless beating. Each punch and kick landed with a thud, the sound of bones cracking echoing through the room.
The guards grinned, encouraged by the crowd's vile comments, they continued to rain blows upon Kaleb's bare body. Each punch and kick was met with more laughter.
But after a few minutes, his body was battered, bruised, and broken, left half-dead, his breath shallow. As he barely laid there his rage simmering deep within as he watched them leave before falling unconscious.
The next morning, as the first rays of light crept over the horizon, Kaleb was cut loose and tossed aside the building like a discarded piece of rotten meat. Stark naked, barefoot, and trembling from the cold of the night, he was forced to make his way back to the shed.
With each painful step, his legs wobbled. By the time he reached the shed, his body was on the verge of collapse.
Eliora and Rayna watched him as he stumbled in, their eyes widening in shock.
"Kaleb!"
They called out in unison, their voices filled with shock as they rushed to his side.
They quickly tended to his wounds, their hands gentle as they wiped away the blood and dirt, tending to his swollen wounds. His face was barely recognizable beneath the bruises and blood.
Atara stood rooted in place, her face pale and her hands trembling.
She stared at Kaleb's wounded body, unable to process the scene before her. Tears welled in her eyes as the realization of what had happened finally settled in. and tears spilled from her eyes.
She took a step forward, her expression a mixture of heartbreak and fury.
"Why..."
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she struggled to find the words.
"Why would you do something so stupid?"
Her voice grew louder, raw with grief and mixing into a volatile storm.
"Why didn't you think of yourself? You could've gotten yourself killed!"
Kaleb winced as he shifted with every inch of his body throbbing in pain. He looked up at Atara, his eyes filled with exhaustion.
"I might sound crazy to you, but I couldn't just stand by, not again."
Atara's tears began to fall more freely as she wiped her face with the back of her hand.
"What do you mean again?"
Kaleb's gaze drifted as he recounted.
"On the day I was captured... I found myself at the edge of a village. Two men fell at my feet, and one reached out his hand to me, begging me for help. As he fought off the other, I just stood there, terrified, and I watched him die. I've regretted that moment every day since. I couldn't save him. I wasn't going to let that happen again...."
"You can't keep risking your life like this! What will happen to us then?"
Kaleb met her gaze, his expression unwavering.
"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. I told you, I won't make that mistake again."
"You could have gotten yourself killed!"
Atara exclaimed, her voice rising.
"What good does that do anyone? You think being reckless will change anything?"
"If I didn't act this time.... it would have haunted me for the rest of my life. I won't abandon those I can help, not anymore."
Their exchange hung in the air, a mix of anger, fear, and unspoken understanding, as the weight of their choices pressed down on both of them.
Three days later, still weak and battered from the beating at the hands of guards, Kaleb was dragged before Count Rief once again.
He lounged in a chair, a smug grin stretching across his face as his eyes bore into Kaleb with contempt.
"It seems the numerous beatings from my knights have yet to strip you of that irritating and insolent look in your eye,"
He said, clicking his tongue in disapproval.
"No matter."
Count Rief leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with sadistic amusement.
"Today's... 'excursion' will surely help rid you of that... if you survive, that is."
Kaleb, struggling to stay on his feet, narrowed his eyes, confusion and unease swirling within him.
"What does that mean?"
"You'll find out soon enough, wretch."
With a snap of his fingers, two guards stepped forward, hauling Kaleb out of the room.
Kaleb couldn't shake the ominous feeling settling over him as he was led away.
Whatever the Count had in store, it couldn't be good.
He found himself being loaded into a carriage with a bag above his head, they traveled for what felt like an eternity.
The road was rough, the constant jolts only adding to his pain as the carriage rattled on. For an entire day, they traveled, only stopping once to feed the horses.
No one spoke a word to him, but the ominous atmosphere spoke volumes.
As dusk fell, they finally came to a halt. Kaleb was pulled out and shoved forward, his feet dragging across the ground.
He was forced down a steep flight of stone steps, the sound of cheering growing louder as they descended.
As they reached the bottom, the sack was yanked off his head, and stood in front of him was a large wooden door.
A thick, metallic smell emanated from the cracks in the door, and below him, the floor was stained red with blood.
The guards knocked on the door and it swung open, immediately the sounds of jeering erupted, reverberating through the narrow corridor; what Kaleb saw left him speechless.
Row upon row of spectators, leaning over old and rusted railings, shouted and cheered with an unsettling hunger.
The light from torches hung on the stone walls flickered, casting eerie shadows that danced like specters.
The oppressive atmosphere pressed down on him.
"Welcome to the Pits, slave,"
A voice growled one of the Count's guards who had escorted him. His words were laced with contempt.
"Let's see if you keep that attitude after today.... if you survive that is"
Thrown into the arena with nothing but the ragged clothes on his back, he was suddenly engulfed by a large shadow.
Looking up, a hulking brute of a man stood across from him, already waiting.
A man with multiple scars crisscrossing his muscular frame.
The crowd roared.
Kaleb's heart pounded in his chest, but even in his weakened state, he refused to give up
The gate behind him slammed shut, and the match began.