e; the acrid, cloying scent of stale fear clinging to every garment and skin; the exotic, clashing sweetness of unfamiliar spices wafting from distant stalls, sickening in their incongruity; the

d anguish, had been simply the preparation. T

ants. The unceasing clamor of the city, a deafening boom of cartwheels, distant cries, and ceaseless chatter, vibrated through the very soles of his boots

xquisite wine, their lives going in blissful ignorance, while only yards away, human beings

ny of shouting from auctioneers, the heart wrenching wails of separated families, the sharp, whistling crack of whips

yed on high wooden platforms, their bodies exposed to the leering gazes of possible buyers. Their mus

innocent eyes reflecting the dread of their new existence. Old men, their spirits already broken by the voyage and the loss

ereft of the ferocious spark he recalled. A knot of scorching wrath twisted in his core,

r absorption, for calculated tolerance. Survival, he knew with a sickening surety,

s of possible purchasers. The brand scorched onto his shoulder,The Dog, felt like a fresh burn, a constant, searing

rp and cold, always looking for strength; the effeminate nobles with delicate, pampered hands, seeking exotic pleasure or status symbols; and the grim faced trainers from

a man, but property. He felt his warrior's soul wanting to recoil, to strike out, to rip out the necks of these arrogant, cas

to endu

to be s

Ka

rred Harvester, nor did he possess the raw, crude swagger of the other arena trainers. This man was thin, almost exqui

uating every detail. He moved with a calm, almost predatory ease, examining, not with overt lust or vulgar, physical

Dominus

in the stuffy air, a tremor i

most with a simple, almost unnoticeable flick of his wrist. His eyes seemed t

inally settled on M

no tell tale narrowing of the eyes. It was a analytical glance, di

trength, but also, Marcus instinctively understood, the way he held himself despite the chainsa fla

and on Marcus's shoulder. He didn't prod or poke like the others; he didn't need to. I

st smooth, a stark, sophisticated whis

wild caught, I presume? He

cutting through the clamor

sequious man whose smile never quite reached his

a demon, he did. Took three of my best men to bring him down. Untamed. Stron

of something inscrutable in their depths, possibly a

whisper, testing the term, le

abduction, Marcus sensed a different type of test, not one of overwhelming force or physical suffering

n't fl

defiance that was tightly controlled, barely visible ben

man the satisfaction of

imperceptible n

noticeable inclin

spite the branding. That is promising. A rare f

exaggerated gestures of the slave trade. The slaver, eyes glittering with avarice, lauded Marcus's

untamed character, his potential for persistent rebellion, his lack

sly organized dance of power and wealth,

ed and humiliation, forced to listen to men hagg

m beyond the increasingly clear realization that his existence, his misery,

clap reverberated, piercing throu

onclusive

oice bland, devoid of passi

s m

force of a physical blow, a sta

hostage, a victim of cir

ld, formal exchange of moni

general holding area towards a small, roped off section where other newly acquired gladiatorial slaves stood,

more glance back

urveying another group of captives, another potential champion, another

, a raw material to be refined and broke

, a signal of utter obedience,

ket's cacophony engulfed him whole, a new,

s not t

ng, created in the cru

ackled, yet his mission remained, a bri

Ka

uscle, but something deeper, something he believed he

ightening clarity, would be his inadvertent

uld l

uld e

ld sur

ent of terrible sadness, was not simply gold, but

d get i

of