Chapter 41: The Vaelcrest Family(Slave Masters)
Chapter 41: The Vaelcrest Family
...In this place, slavery was the worst burden to carry, and it started out with chains rattling like the laughter of dead men, dragging across the planks of the ship as the slaves were herded onto the port.
The stink of sweat, blood, and sea rot hung thick in the air, only barely masked by the smoking incense that burned in iron braziers atop the wooden watchtowers. Lanterns, their red paper shades bearing the mark of the Somara Empire—(A Golden Crown with seven Jewels) King Solomon’s Sigil—swayed softly with the wind.
As the soldiers guided them down, The taller soldier turned back briefly, searching, his brow furrowed. He squinted at the ship's fore—then stiffened.
Oliver had been right.
Nailed to the curved hull like a grotesque decoration was a man. Naked save for a loincloth soaked in dried blood, flayed from the shoulders downward, but his face was left untouched. Recognition dawned slowly, then violently.
"Martin Vontell…" the soldier muttered, his voice carrying an edge of disbelief. After all, who wouldn't?
Even the workers at the port paused. Murmurs rose from bystanders—traders, officials, and even other soldiers who were meant to be guiding slaves off the ships. Fingers pointed and some gasped.
A noble of the empire had died. But it was not just his death. It was the fact that he had been displayed like beast meat in the summer.
But Oliver wasn’t surprised.
He had expected this.
This was why he’d dared to offer the Contract to the taller soldier earlier—why he’d been bold enough to strike a deal.