Your Blood
“Why he got those chains?”
Kole slumped limply on the ground. The fire in his eyes persisted, but the fight was out of him. A sharp jab to the stomach left him vomiting on the leafy ground, the followup now showed in his swelling eye.
“He’s a slave, course.”
“Why he got all dem scars?”
“He’s a bad slave.”
The gang of mercenaries stood in a semi circle around Kole. Two of the others seemed disinterested, but the two that now stared at the youth made his flesh crawl.