Athenian Slave (Book 2)

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Alexios sat in the corner of the room. It was not the room he had first had in mind for her. Somehow he had taken her to his room. And could not fathom at all why he had done it. Sitting on the solid chair, elbows on his knees and his hands hanging between his knees. The darkness had fallen hours ago. The lone light in the room from the single candle on the small table beside the simple bed. The woman upon it had not moved it even longer. Her breath still coming evenly calmed him enough with the knowledge that she was still alive.

She had tossed and turned when he had first placed her down. When some of the female slaves had come to see to her comfort at his command, she had settled somewhat. And he knew that if she went into a period of unrest once more, he would, without hesitation, awaken any of those females to make sure that she was comfortable once more.

While the bruises upon her flesh were temporary, and already beginning to heal. It was her mind he worried for. When she has tossed and turned earlier, her moans and cries had beaten at his heart. A heart he had long thought shrivelled, if not completely gone. It was as if her anguish had reawakened a side of him he did not remember. But he also recognised the sounds as those of a fellow traveller through the depths of Hades itself. She had been through so much, and looked so young. He was a warrior, honed in blood and death, from a young age he had known this was his fate. Yet this girl had had no training, had no preparation for the horrors he was beginning to wonder she suffered.

There was something not right with the story her compatriots were telling. There were parts that rang true. But the best lies worked on a foundation of truth. No. He had been trained to look out for lies, the nuances a person did not even realise they were making as they did so. As a result of this they did not know that he would be looking further into this. They thought he had taken the event at face value. As such, they should begin to drop their guard quicker. And then he would hunt for the information he required.

The slight movement of from the bed had his complete attention. The softest of moans, as her head tipped more into the light. The orange and yellows of the small flame casting a glow, and deepening the shadows in the contours of her face. The shadows beneath her eyes, her lashes melding in with them, as one half was in light before the flames danced once more on an unfelt breeze. The bruising became yet another shadow, only the golden glow of her skin visible in the light of the candle. It was almost as if he had Aphrodite herself within reach. Smooth and perfectly formed. In the darkness she was the light. And was that not the perfect metaphor for himself. He had become the living darkness.

He was the night, and his bleakness had infected her light. His distraction and inattention had left the flickering dawn be damaged by the gloom. He only hoped her fire could be restored to its full roaring fury as she healed. There was something in the back of his mind that had recognised a spirit within her that, if circumstances would allow, would help her to heal, if he could uncover the flame of it within her. If she had let it splutter and die, he would have to spark it back to life. Though how would be a mystery, it was only the fates that could lead him through, if that was the case.