Slav's eyes stayed shut--though not for long. His hands were battered; damp locks clung to the bridge of his nose as he stayed in that manner.
The atmosphere inside was anything but civil--the men of the ship were ruthless. Any disobedience resulted in beatings and no food. Though the "no food" wasn't a problem as none got a piece of morsel since the abduction.
The ship mostly had young men--most of whom hadn't reached the age. They sat huddled up, whispering on to one another on what will happen next?
"Will they sell us to the hippodromes?" many shook their head in disbelief.
The hippodromes are where entertainment weighed more than the life of a human being. once a slave enters it--there freedom can only be determined by how they perform. Many lose their life, only a few ever gets to attain their "freedom"
Slav heard of them before, his father Borislav had taught him. He had always thought they were barbaric. Though now, that wasn't his focus.
His sapphire orbs flickered to the window, his lover, Eleanor... where is she? what happened to her? the questions daunted at him.
His hands clenched as he curled them in a fist, he had let them hurt her, it was his fault. "Degenerates"... a sizzling whisper left the juvenile knight's son.
That instant door to the area opened as a man in his thirties entered. He wore a guard's attire, a yellow vest draped by his red cloak--something that every guard wore.
He said words foreign, things like: "Emperor" "to serve" were the most. Latin being the language he had to learn--Slav understood him.
Then-another guard entered, "It's time" he said. To that the other guard nodded.
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Slav's pov: We were swiftly taken away in a cart rode by an impatient coachman. Inside, there were men my age. They gazed at one another in a worried manner. Murmuring, barely.
I took my eyes away from them, my mind being only on the well-being of my lover. The ride would soon come to a halt in a fairly large area; it looked like a camp.
"Get out!" the guards yelled. We followed orders and hopped off. Soon I got to know, it was indeed a camp. The head of the camp had been Aristos. a man in his early fifty's. he had a tanned complexion, his hair--the color of ash. He spoke in a less harsh tone.
"I'm Aristos... and I serve none but the emperor" is hooded gaze flickered over to them, "From on you all as well" He then went on: "This is a squire's camp"
The juvenile men looked at one another* "Squire" someone who hasn't attained their knighthood. He gazed on to their sunken eyes, "If you behave and do the orders given, you may be elevated"
Slav's brows creased, "If you do not do so, then be sure I will be your enemy" he ended with a harsh emphasize. He then began questioning their names.
Aristos inched in closer to him, Name? he asked the young man beside Slav, "M-Marcus" he answered.
He then went to Slav. He glared at him. Aristos returned it back, "Have the cat got your tongue? what is your name?" he asks. To that, "Slav, Vyacheslav, master Aristos" he replied in a steadier tone.
Aristos nods, "much better" he then went on. Slav gazed at the necklace, a charm that Eleanor had given him. He clutched at it tightly.
He will change his fate...
Your name? Aristos' voice fades away.
I will not be a slave...