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Cal wandered home from his afternoon shift at the northern wall and gazed across the mountains that reared up behind the eastern battlements. Torches were being lit along the city wall, dotting the sandstone watchtowers like beads of golden blood on pricked skin. Storm clouds gathered above, a solid mass of churning grey and purple, and just as Cal reached the hilltop where the ancient sun temple stood, the first cool smatterings of rain tapped his head. In the surrounding streets, people leaned out of windows and snatched stiff laundry off washing lines. Customers at the little alley cafes dragged their stools inside. The street merchants slammed lids on spice barrels and threw oilcloths over ropes of dyed silk. The bright colours of the city retreated from the oncoming storm until all that remained were the sandy buildings, the faded watchtower flags, and the smoky green mountains beyond.
As Cal jogged through the twisting lanes of the eastern quarter, he became aware of someone following him. After his run-in with Julian and the Arai at the old governor’s house three weeks ago, Cal had made sure they didn’t get the opportunity to corner him again, and his vigilance had paid off. Or so he thought.
He dashed up a narrow laneway then took a few random turns, darting through the alleys with silent, methodical footsteps. He doubled back twice, waiting in doorways to check for his tail. When he was sure he was alone, he continued at a quick but cautious pace.
He could see the crumbling rooftop of his apartment block two streets away, with candlelight spilling from a top floor window. Artemis would be making a start on their usual dinner of bread and herbs. Cal craved fresh vegetables and meat, but their rations usually didn’t allow for anything more than the bare basics.
A blow caught him on the back of the head. Strong hands snatched his arms, and metal knuckle guards crunched his sides, paralysing him with pain. A hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his agonised cry as he was hauled off the street. Someone kicked a door shut, and Cal heard a rusty bolt grind into its bracket.
Panic seized him and he lashed out. His boot connected with a stomach. He freed one arm and smashed an elbow into a face. He got several more hits in, but after a pounding to his skull, and with darkness all around, he could barely see. They pummelled him with knees and boots and fists till he collapsed and lay gasping on the stones.
‘Hook him up before he comes to his senses,’ a familiar voice said.
Something cold clamped around Cal’s wrist. He tried to shake his vision into focus as indistinct shapes swirled in front of him. The first thing he identified was the iron shackle on his wrist. His gaze traced the chain to a bolt in the wall. Next to this stood a pair of black Bandála boots, and Cal wasn’t the least bit surprised to find that they belonged to Julian.
‘On your knees,’ Julian commanded.
Not wanting another beating, Cal pushed himself up. His skull felt like it was splitting open, and he hurt in a dozen different places. Behind Julian, in the corner of the room, three more soldiers stood watching. In the darkness Cal couldn’t distinguish their faces, but he felt sure they were the same men as last time. One of them appeared to be nursing a broken nose.
‘You were supposed to reveal Nick’s identity to the Bandála,’ Julian growled. ‘Not become his personal combat trainer.’
‘It’s like you said, sir. Roan trained me well.’
Julian hit him hard. ‘I own you, Cal. You will do what I say.’
Cal snarled. ‘You don’t own me. Nobody owns me!’
Julian ducked out of range as Cal strained against the iron cuff and swung a kick at him. The movement sent Cal’s head into a spin. A blow knocked him against the wall. The next was so solid it rattled Cal’s teeth and weakened his knees. He collapsed onto all fours.
Julian crouched down so he was eyelevel with Cal and said, ‘Refusing to comply makes you a liability. I’ll have to kill you if that’s the case. No one will miss a stray Highlander.’
Through the sparking agony, Cal replied, ‘Nick will notice I’m gone.’
‘Ah, yes. Kári. He’ll be next.’
Cal shuddered. He couldn’t help it. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’
But even as he said it, he knew Julian was more than capable of making Nick disappear for good.
Julian didn’t reply. He didn’t have to.
‘Alright,’ Cal said through gritted teeth. ‘I’ll make sure everyone sees his tattoo.’
‘How do I know you’re not lying again?’
‘I said I’d do it!’
Julian shook his head. ‘I need more than that. An acknowledgement of ownership.’
Cal swallowed. ‘What?’
‘You’re not an Arai, Cal, and you’re not Korelian, so that makes you a slave. My slave. And if you want Nick to live, you’ll say it. You belong to me.’
Cal clenched his fists and ground them into the stones. He couldn’t. The mere thought of speaking those words made him feel ill.
‘I won’t.’
With a signal from Julian, one of the Arai yanked Cal’s head back by his hair and pressed a hunting knife against his throat. The blade stung him, and a warm trickle worked its way down his chest.
‘If you don’t obey me, Cal, in less than a week, Rayámina will find Nicholas Kári hanging from a tree on the banks of the Defender’s River, with the evidence leading directly back to Artemis.’
‘No!’ Cal gasped.
‘The Bandála will fail, all because you couldn’t swallow your pride.’
This time, Cal’s protest shrivelled in his throat.
Julian leant over him. ‘Say it.’
‘I...’ Cal gulped, shut his eyes, somehow found the strength to spit out the words. ‘I belong to you, Commander Julian.’
‘That’s right, Cal. You do.’
The delight in Julian’s voice made Cal want to throttle him. His hair was released, and Julian held out the key for the iron shackle.
‘You have three days. We’ll be watching you, so don’t do or say anything you’ll regret. And don’t draw attention to yourself.’
The key clunked onto the stones in front of Cal. Then Julian and his Arai faded into the night.