Chain of Steel

Part 2

Courreus slammed me into the kitchen wall, I tried to get out of his way but he was to fast. I fell to the floor.

" You filthy wretch!!! Every time when you have someone down, you let them live!!"

" I had to!"

" Don't you lie to me girl!!" 

He smacked me with the broadside of his hand. I ran out of the kitchen, locking the door and ran to my room. It was decided that I would have my own room apart from the boys. I curl up on my bed and silently cried out my heart.

After a half-hour, I heard a knock on my door. "......come in....." I whispered. John peaked his head in the doorway, a worried look settled on his face. He walked silently to my bed and told me to sit up. I obeyed, tears streaking my face. After looking over my minor injuries he pulled me in for a hug.      

" It's okay, It's over now." He told me comfortingly.

" No, no it's not." I sobbed.

" Yes, it is, you're safe. I'm never letting him get you again. Never." His voice was pure resolve. He rubbed my back and continued to try and comfort me. I cried and cried until there was not a single tear left in my body. Then I fell into a fitful sleep, still wrapped in his warm and safe embrace.

                                                 ~~~~~~~~~~~~*~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting into my open room. John must have forgotten to close the door last night.

I tiredly roll off my bed and wandered over to the kitchen. I opened the door to John, still in his nightclothes, cooking breakfast. As he worked he hummed a little tune that sounded like something a bird would sing. 

" Hey." 

He practically jumped at the sound of my voice, dropping some bread in the process. 

" Oh, it's just you." He said as he bent down to pick up the bread. I tried to help but we just ended up bumping heads  

" Yeah, just me," I answered back, rubbing my head. I walked over to the oven and popped a small piece of bacon into my mouth. 

" Hey, hey, hey! Leave some for breakfast!" He tries to hold back a smile. 

" Fine. I thought it was Timothy's turn to make breakfast."

" Well, it is. But the guys hate that oat mush he makes, so I was nominated to cook."

" They could've asked me."

" We were going to, but I told them you wanted to be alone for a little while."

He gives me a one-armed hug and smiles his crooked smile. 

" Thanks, John, I really appreciate it." 

He pats me on the back and continues on with his work. 

I leave the mess hall and take a walk in the cool, crisp air. I run to my oak tree and climb up into its twisting branches, its arms clawing at the sky. I look over the training ground and think over the last five years. 

I was thirteen when my uncle adopted me. My parents had been killed by the Roman soldiers and ever since I have hated them. Two months after my uncle had gained custody of me he was flat broke from losing all his money gambling. When a slave driver saw me working my uncles' fields he talked to my uncle about selling me. In the space of ten minutes, I had gone from free citizen to a worthless child sold for drink money. 

One day thieves had come to steal the sheep. When my master saw me fighting them and winning, he decided to hand me over to the Colosseum trainer to turn me into a gladiator. While on the training grounds I endured broken bones, concussions, extensive blood loss and other injuries. In the last five years, I've only had to kill two people. Thank goodness for that!

The breakfast bell rang and I headed inside.