|[ THE FAERI'S KEEPER ]|

Chapter 2: Free to Fight

The sun was warm as it beat down on my back, the metal of the armour magnifying the heat. The roof beneath me was hot, the tiles having spent the morning absorbing the sun’s rays. I ignored my thirst, pushing away thoughts of cool water and shade, and focused on the scene below me.

The courtyard had been cleared of all stalls, the whole area booked by a wealthy seller, and crowds had massed at its edges, watching with dark eyes. In the middle stood a pen, set up as if to hold animals, but with people inside. naked, dirty, sweaty; they glared at everything around them with fear burning away like hot coals. I could see some were wounded, bruises showing on their shoulders and ribs, others with grazes or cuts.

Slaves.

They were all human, that much I knew. The Faeri Empire would never allow their own to be marketed. My lips curled in a silent snarl. I would make them all pay. And any who dared step forwards to buy one would too.

“…Ladies and gentlemen!” a man shouted, stepping out of the crowd and up towards the pen. All the slaves reacted immediately, turning towards him and backing into the far end of the pen. It was like watching animals who knew they were approaching the slaughterhouse. “I welcome you to this sales yard! We have great stock for you to choose from, young and healthy, and willing to work the hardest of jobs!” his voice boomed out and his slimy smile didn’t slip from his face for even a second. I turned my glare to the crowds, searching for any wanting to step forwards and purchase the man’s wares.

“Our first subject!” the man crowed, holding his arms wide. Two Faeri Guards stepped forwards and delved into the pen, grabbing one of the dirty slaves. I watched as he thrashed and fought against them, trying to scrabble back and hide amongst his fellow prisoners. “A young man. Fit, healthy, in the prime of his life! Only 20 000 nēta!” one of the guards punched the slave across the jaw and they threw him forwards.

There was movement from the crowd – a man stepped forwards, his hair and beard turning white. I shifted slightly, loading and aiming my bow right at the nape of his neck. He turned slightly, looking around at the other people in the crowds. Gold flashed at his fingers – he was rich. I saw pointed ears. My grip on the arrow fletches tightened as anger bubbled its way to the surface.

“Lower the price, good sir!” the man laughed, “You drive too hard a bargain!” the slaves trader only laughed back.

“One has to make a living somehow. But for you, my good man, I will lower the price to a mere 18 000!” my snarl broadened and I shifted my aim just slightly. I loosed the arrow and the trader dropped, arrow in the eye.

There were screams and people darted in all directions, mothers covering their children’s eyes, men moving to shield their wives. The man with rings glittering on his fingers like teardrops turned and looked up as I slipped from the roof onto a beam hanging out below. The wood creaked slightly but took my weight.

“Guards!” the man shouted, pointing at me with a gilded digit, “Get her! she killed him!”

“Oh shut up.” I snarled, shooting him through the neck. He fell to the ground, clutching his throat.  I turned to the guards, watching to see if they would approach. When they didn’t move I returned my bow to my shoulder and swung underneath the beam to land steadily on the ground below me. I looked at the people around me, saw fear and uncertainty. For all they knew I would turn on them as quickly as I would turn on the Fae.

“I’m here to free the slaves.” I said loudly, reaching down my leg to the knife I had slipped into my boot. As I drew the blade I saw people edge away from me. “I won’t hurt you.” I said softly, holding up my other hand reassuringly, “I’m here to help.”