Last Man Standing

Chapter 12: Half-Hearted Promises

The sun was setting by the time we reached our destination. The scruffy man steered the horses through the open gates of the Steppe; the city in the prairielands that was bequeathed to the care of Lord Remus Varinius Tullus after proving his devotion to Emperor Maximus.

The streets were slowly emptying as street venders closed their shops for the night. Shoppers went home with their families to eat supper and prepare for their slumber. Torches were being lit along some of the main roads as the night watch began their rounds. Our wagon was one of the last to make its way through the city, rumbling across the stone laid roads. We turned a corner to travel along one of the side streets, cloaked in darkness and empty of all signs of life. Even the dim candlelight from housing windows began to snuff out as we drove further into this obscure and seemingly abandoned area. Stone turned into gravel, gravel turned into dirt, and dirt turned into sand; the standard of living in this area of town was beyond miserable.

After a long stretch of silent travel, I finally heard the faint sound of music and the laughter of men. The noise grew as we approached an alleyway that flooded firelight. Once we rounded the corner, I could see the merriment of a couple dozen men pouring from an old tavern.

The scruffy man pulled up beside the unstable structure where a couple of free standing poles were planted deep into the ground. Two of the poles had a few people tied to them, and a man stood between them shouting different prices at the curious passersby.

This was where the scruffy man was planning on selling our new travelling companions.

"Tiberius!" The scruffy man called to someone in the crowd of potential buyers.

A man in gold and burgundy robes turned at the sound of his name. He did not dress like someone who belonged in these streets, but nevertheless he seemed quite comfortable with his surroundings. He had long black hair that was tied back with a jewelled ribbon, and a belt made of solid gold. He also wore an onyx medallion around his neck that complimented his dusky eyes.

He smiled as he approached the scruffy man, "There you are, my man! What took you so long?"

The scruffy man jumped down from his perch. "We ran into some trouble with Galacian soldiers, but it was nothing that I couldn't handle."

"I can see that." Tiberius inspected the wagon and its contents. "You brought me a better ride, a new horse and an impressive haul of sellable goods." He paused. A frown began to form on his face before he turned to face the scruffy man, "But only one man in the entire group. I thought I gave you specific instruction to bring me fighters..."

For the first time in our acquaintance, the scruffy man looked frightened. "I had three others, but they died along the way." He quickly moved to my side. "And this boy is a good fighter despite his age."

Tiberius looked at me doubtfully. "He'll die."

"He might, but at least he'll fight." The scruffy man was grasping for approval. He knew he couldn't convince Tiberius that I would win, so the next best option was to classify me as a sacrifice.

Tiberius sighed, shaking off his disappointment as he spoke, "You're lucky that I found three fighters myself."

The scruffy man smiled nervously, "I knew you would."

Tiberius looked around. "Where's your driver?"

"Galacians killed him."

"A shame."

These were empty words; he didn't really care.

"Keep the four women in the cart for Sextus. Tie the rest of them to the posts and start selling." His eyes rested on one of the young girls in the cart. She looked to be no more than fourteen years old, with tangled red hair and whimsical blue eyes. She avoided Tiberius' gaze as best as she could, but he seemed to have a way of captivating a person's attention no matter your effort. A devious smile spread across his face. "Except for this one."