[quote=@persianversion] The whispers were hushed, but cut through the quiet of the night like steel. She had been happy as she walked back, nervous perhaps, but mostly eager for the night to end so they could take Inaya and be another day closer to freedom. Now a rush of fear came over her, and she reached down to grab a handful of her dress, picking the skirt up in her hand before darting. It did not last long. She was only able to move a few paces before the sound of boots behind her grew impossible to ignore, and she felt the rough grasp around her wrist as they pulled her back. She wanted to protest, to beg, to tell them that she wasn’t a whore and that they’d be caught, but before she could, she felt herself being swept up and carried away. Najla never stopped struggling, but the man had locked his arms around her, and he was far stronger and larger than she was. She even cried out for help, but where the deserted marketplace had been her friend before, it was no help here. No one heard her, and as they took her into the warehouse, Najla knew what was going to happen. What part of her hadn’t been consumed by fear before certainly felt it now, but she kept squirming and struggling as they pulled her arms back. The rope was rough, and felt as if it cut against her wrists painfully as she moved, but Najla didn’t seem to feel it. She kept pulling at the rope, trying desperately to loosen it, only to freeze for a brief moment before a familiar face came before hers. The hands that had been tying her left, and her fearful protests ceased as the man began talking. Even here, tied up and surrounded by five men who hated her, Najla’s anger at this man was easily apparent. She recoiled as he brought his face closer to hers, utterly repulsed both by his appearance and his words. He grabbed her shoulder harshly and Najla winced as he dug his nails into the skin. It would likely break and bleed, but that was hardly her concern now. She shook her head at his words, still squirming at the ropes, still trying to pull away with the little space allotted to her, still trying to push the words of protest out. She tried to threaten him, to demand him to stop, to beg him to stop, but when he ordered the men out, Najla knew what was next. No amount of words could stop them, they would use her throughout the night and hopefully she’d be around to recall the trauma in the morning. The hand on her crotch confirmed this, and though she tried to kick out at him, it was pointless. As he continued to touch her, his grimy hands doing as they pleased, she felt the ropes around her wrist loosen slightly. Najla used her fingers to pull the rope apart, and a wrist slipped out, followed by the other. She kept them firmly behind her, still squirming as if she was tied, but the rough rope around her wrists was held up at her will now. The gleam of the dagger at his hip was tempting, especially as his touch grew bolder, but she did not move. He brought his face closer to hers, and Najla maintained eye contact with him. He was an ugly creature, and his smile contorted his now-broken face unpleasantly. His face moved closer towards her, as if he meant to kiss her, and Najla whimpered again and kicked out as she felt his finger move inside her. [i]“I knew you’d like it.”[/i] Finally, his eyes closed as his lips met hers, and Najla was free to end the indignity. Her hand moved in a flash, and she reached for the dagger at his hip, unsheathing it and bringing just past her own neck. She slid the dagger into his throat, pulling her lips from his at the last moment and replacing it with her hand. The dagger did not pierce all the way through, she was not strong enough for it, but she pulled it out and stabbed it in again. She could hear him choking on his blood beneath her hand, and felt the warm blood being coughed up against it, but the sound was muffled, overridden by the heavy laughter behind the door. Najla pulled the dagger out again, swiftly, and he fell to his knees in front of her as he tried to grasp at his throat, his eyes wide and bulging in their panic. No screams could come now, only gargles as the blood pushed through the holes in his throat, and past his lips, falling out over his body. Najla watched angrily as he fell to the ground, her body still burning where he had touched her. She watched as he collapsed, choking on his own blood for another brief moment before his body stilled. Najla kneeled beside his body, resting the dagger gently on the floor. For a moment, she considered closing his eyes, but chose instead to spit into his face, before digging into his pockets, trying to calm herself and understand her new position. Her mind raced furiously, her thoughts pouring out in a steady stream of panic, which Najla was barely managing to pick through. [i]If I go to the trader, they follow, we both die. If I go free Inaya, they follow, we both die. If I return to the castle, I could live, but Inaya will not be freed. She is the only one who knows where I am, she has to go.[/i] Najla scrounged through his pockets as she continued to think on what to do, situation after situation playing in her head. It did not take long, Najla had few options and fewer still she trusted, but it felt like years to her. [i]I’ve got to get Inaya out. Either her or me.[/i] The thought made her heart sink, and Najla paused for a brief moment, as the sorrow of the realization took over her actions. She wouldn’t be leaving. It was too dangerous, if she ran, they’d know she tried to escape justice. They’d hunt her, as Ketill had threatened, especially if she left a body in her trail. She couldn’t leave now. [i]I was so close. One more day. I would’ve been free tomorrow. [/i] He had ruined everything. She looked at the man under her, the blood still oozing from his throat and onto the floor beneath them. He was uglier in death, most were, but the thought that such a hideous creatures hands had been on her made her shudder. The thought that he had taken her freedom from her made her angry. Yet, there was nothing she could do, there was nothing left to take from him. Najla observed him for a moment, the anger quieting her panicked stream of thoughts. She was not repulsed by the scene in front of her. She had lifted her dress in her hand, and stepped around the pools of blood lightly, so as not to let it stain. Her hands searched through his pockets, uncaring as to how quickly the skin against it was turning cold. His expression was contorted and painful, and the wounds on his neck were ugly, open, and leaking, yet Najla showed no disgust as she observed him. Only anger for what he had taken from her and the frustration that she had nothing more to take from him. Finding the purse where he kept his money, she opened it with her clean hand. The coins clinked softly as she counted them, but she could not count more than a few before she grew wary of the noise. Though the men were laughing beyond the door, she worried that they would be listening closely, anticipating their turn. Najla glanced over the coins quickly, estimating that he had kept about 50, if not more, of the silver with him. He was an idiot to leave any of it in the dormitory, but she was hardly concerned about that now. Picking up the rope they had used to tie her hands together, Najla tied the purse to the inside of her leg securely, taking a few steps and rearranging it to make sure it wouldn’t jingle about as she walked. Guards would see her walking back with a full purse in her hands, and she didn’t want them sitting around guessing how much she had been worth. Najla hesitated another moment, listening to the crass laughter behind the door. She knew she couldn’t exit through that door, but these warehouses had a number of entrances. Perhaps she could have waited, and taken them one by one as they walked in, and though she would have loved to bring justice to those who had wanted to hurt her so badly, she knew she couldn’t. She’d have to pray that the Sawarim brought it to them someday. The dim light the man had molested her by proved just enough to move to the other end of the large warehouse, where Najla felt along the wall carefully until she found a door, smaller than the one they had brought her through, which was likely used for the larger goods in. It opened without complaint, thankfully, and Najla slipped out onto the streets. The sounds of the laughter had not left her ears, and it felt as if the man’s touch was still upon her, so Najla did not hesitate. She picked up her skirts again and moved as far away from their voices as she could before she made her way through the castle. ---- She had learned from her mistake. She gave herself a glance-over as best as she could in the light of a torch, making sure there were no visible bloodstains. The hand she had kept over his mouth had been cleaned as best as she could, but she held up the hem of her dress in that hand, trying to cover up the bloodstain with the fabric. A red mark remained smeared on her neck, and Najla could not wipe it off completely, so she let her hair cover it, smoothing it down. Her dress, she had pulled back up over her shoulder, and she smoothed that down as well, checking it over for visible bloodstains. Surely, there were some, but none that any would see in the dimly lit halls of Coedwin now. She wanted to sprint through the empty streets of the market, pound upon the trader’s warehouse, and demand that he take her home now. Reason forced her to return to the keep, along with the knowledge that the men would be seeking her shortly. It wouldn’t take long for one to grow impatient and storm in for his turn, and she had only the span of their patience to act. It was reason that pushed her through the streets to the keep, through the courtyard and the halls, and back to her bed. The guards looked at her, a curious glance here and there, but a Sawarim woman walking back through the castle at this hour seemed to be a common sight. She had taken care to clean up her appearance to pass the necessary glances, and so it seemed none knew of the silver strapped to her calf or the body she had left in her wake. [i]They will, tomorrow. And I’m leaving myself at their mercy, like a fool. [/i] She had seen their trials, and it frightened Najla to think she might be subject to one. Ketill had been about to give part of his finger for breaking a man’s nose, she could not imagine the price for the same man’s life. For a Sawarim woman, likely nothing short of her own. The only alternative was that she leave with the trader and die when they caught up to her. She had played with her own life many times over, and perhaps it would have been a gamble she was willing to take, but Najla was the only one who knew where Jalil remained. That information couldn’t die with her. She threaded carefully through the host of slaves sleeping on cots and the ground. It seemed getting to the cot she had shared with Qamar took longer than the rest of her walk, as Najla was forced to tread carefully to avoid stepping on anyone in the dim light of the torch. Finally, she could see Qamar sleeping soundly on the cot, and Najla moved beside her carefully. Ever so gently, she shook the girl awake, leaving a hand over her mouth to prevent her from gasping or making a noise if she were to wake up suddenly. Qamar startled awake, and it was lucky that Najla had her hand over the girl’s mouth, for she let out a sharp gasp that was instantly muffled. Once Qamar saw her, Najla lifted the hand, gently moving a single finger to her own lips, to indicate she was to be quiet. [i]<“Qamar, I need you to listen. You’re my friend, right?”>[/i] Qamar nodded, confused. She was a sweet girl, and Najla took her hand softly. [i]<“If you trust anything I say, trust this. I can get you out of here.”>[/i] Qamar’s eyes widened, and she seemed about to speak, when Najla held another finger to her lips. [i]<“Ya Sawarim, on my life I promise this. Do you trust me?”>[/i] Qamar nodded again, and Najla continued to speak, her voice soft and low, though as gentle as she could manage in her panic. [i]<“Then I need you to listen. Tomorrow, go to a trader in the market. Address him as Suhayb and give him this.”>[/i] Najla explained how to find him and his warehouse, as she reached under her dress and swiftly untied the rope that had been chafing her leg. The bag fell onto the cot with a clink, and Najla gripped it tightly so it made no more noise as she picked it up and handed it to Qamar. Qamar took it in her hand as gently if Najla was handing her a miraculous child, mesmerized by the gift. [i]<“There’s 50 silvers in there. He must use it and whatever else he has to purchase another.”>[/i] This time, Najla explained who Inaya was. Not her personality, or her background, but every identifying marker Najla could remember about the girl, to make sure she freed no one on accident. Clearly this was a task she wished she could do herself, but Najla knew she would never be allowed to wander Coedwin with the freedom to do so again, at least not in the brief week before she left. Even if she wasn’t relegated to a dungeon, even if they decided her cause was just, the crowd would watch her now, every movement she made. Qamar looked confused, and Najla squeezed her hand tightly. [i]<“Please tell me you were listening.”>[/i] Her words were spoken with a smile, almost as a joke, despite the fear that was about to come running down the hall to take her. [i]<“I am, I just-what about you? Why her?”>[/i] [i]<“Don’t worry about me, I will see you soon. Someone has to stay behind and make sure no one follows you, right?”>[/i] Najla paused again, before continuing. [i]<“Whatever you hear about me. Wherever I am. Nothing should stop you from taking that money to the market tomorrow and do as I’m telling you. I know what’s going to happen to me, and I will see you again.”>[/i] [i]<“What’s going to happen to you?”>[/i] Najla paused, then smiled again, hoping Najla could hear the confidence in her words. [i]<“It’ll sound scarier than it is. Trust that I will be fine. So long as you do everything I’ve asked of you, I will not be in trouble for long. If you fail, I will too.”>[/i] They spoke longer, in whispers so quietly the bodies snoring beside them would never hear. But Najla made certain Qamar had. She comforted the girl, telling her that her past as a merchant had connected her to this particular trader, that Qamar should have no fears. She laughed with the girl gently, as if they were sisters gossiping underneath a blanket, and Najla knew she would miss Qamar. Inaya and Qamar would become fast friends however, and Najla was soon heartened when she saw that their talking had caused Qamar to become bolder in her role, more trusting of her friend, and hopeful that she’d be let free soon. [i]<“What will I do, when I’m free? I have few talents…and I don’t want to do that again.”>[/i] [i]<“You won’t ever have to. Never again. We’ll work as merchants and get so rich we’ll never have to touch a man we don’t want again.”>[/i] They whispered these dreams to each other, and the dreams grew larger and larger, to fancy houses and fine husbands, before Najla said her goodbye. For a moment, she hugged the girl tightly, then released her just as quickly. [i]<“When you find the girl, tell her that his skull remains on a spike where it was taken.”>[/i] [i]<“Whose?”> <“No ones, it’s a code. But you must tell her that, she will know what it means.”>[/i] Qamar nodded again, and Najla smiled once more. [i]<“Ya Sawarim, stay safe. He will return me to you within a fortnight.”>[/i] With this, Najla picked her way through the crowd again. She had far less patience this time, knowing that the men were likely scouring the marketplace for her, or had run back to the castle to alert the Servants. She could wait until they found her among the slaves, but Najla had no assurances of her safety. What if they stormed in and just slit her throat in front of these slaves? They wouldn’t do anything to stop it. Once again, she left the room. Night would be over soon, and Najla knew what came for her when the day broke. She walked through the halls of Coedwin with her shoulders back, no longer slinking about, no intent to hide what she had done. [i]I wish I could find Ketill. At least he’d kill me himself, instead of handing me over to those brutes.[/i] It’d be a preferable death, certainly, as she simply wanted to keep the pleasure away from those cowards. Yet she did not trust that she’d make it to Ketill’s room alive, she was sure that the men would find her soon. So, Najla moved to the front entrance of the castle keep. It would not take her long to find what she was looking for. Apparently the men had seen the body and had already started to search for her in the night, alerting the guards at some point during the process. They had responded with sending out more patrols to look for her, assuming she must have escaped or remained hiding in the marketplace. Najla only had to get to the courtyard before she was stopped by a pair of unfamiliar Servants, clearly on the way to join the search. [i]“Come here and identify yourself.”[/i] Najla walked towards them, her eyes on the ground. She opened her mouth to speak, but it seemed they had seen the bloodstains on her hand, or realized somehow who she was. One moved to pull out a sword, and Najla raised her hands, one clean and one stained red, to show they were empty. [i]“No need, my lord, I am unarmed and submit myself to your mercy.”[/i] There was no fear in her voice, and though Najla felt her heart pounding furiously, she would not have been able to identify herself as frightened if anyone asked. There was a sense of relief in her actions, knowing that even if she were to die, someone besides her knew where Jalil was buried. Soon, the Sultanate would know and her brother could rest. While visibly confused, the Servants were not about to argue with her. One marched forward and grabbed her wrist, while the other let go of his sword. [i]“I’ll let them know we found her.”[/i] The one holding onto her nodded and she was left alone with him as his friend marched off. This should have frightened her more, but he seemed eager to be rid of her, and wasted no time in marching her towards the dungeons. [i]“You’re really ser Ketill's slave?”[/i] [i]“Yes, my lord.”[/i] He seemed surprised, but it was not hard to understand why. Her master seemed to be respected around Coedwin, if not most of Broacien, rather highly. She was going to be a stain on his reputation, but Najla did not care what the others thought of Ketill, so long as they didn’t try to hurt her for it. [i]“He’s not going to like this.” “No, my lord.”[/i] He had meant it threateningly, but Najla would not let herself by frightened by him. As horrible of a notion it was, Ketill was the safest option she had. At least he wouldn’t rape her for what she had done. He marched her to the dungeons, quickly handing her off to the Servants that guarded it. It was the second time she’d find her home in a Brocienien cell, and Najla was finding that she liked them less each time around. It was far better than being tied to a pole in a warehouse however, even as they wrapped her wrists with chains and tossed in into a cell. It was damp, cramped, but thankfully empty, though the various cells of the dungeons had been populated with Sawarim prisoners. Najla found the less damp part of the cell and sat down, her back against the wall. With nothing to do, she prayed, and would continue to do so intermittently until her master came to fetch her. [/quote]