1900

  I cannot believe it. Of all the towns in this country, of all the times I have come through here whenever Baron Malachi requested me or my brethren to enforce Baron rule… I come to the same town which that boy also stayed. Blade, wasn’t it? That was his name, the son of a smithy in the Merchant District. I still recall that night fresher than most. And I had thought him dead. I had every reason to.

  The Salt Pit Revolt was talked of constantly.

  Sandra always voiced her concern that this was a sign of rebellion breaking out in the Oligarchy, though I did my best to not stoke her fears. Despite this belief, it worried me to see how easy it was for slaves to overpower the guards. I found that hard to believe. Either the guards were lax in their duties and had failed miserably or the slaves - malnourished, beaten and tired as they should have been - had help…

  Perhaps Sandra was correct. Regardless, it gives me pause to see Blade again. He looked older, haunted, pained, angry… Emotions that I knew very well growing up. And now I stand, dragging this same boy from the tavern and to the estate. It stuns me.

  Was this the same bright-eyed child whom I saw that night? He must have suffered badly under the charge of the slave drivers.

  Am I also responsible for what he has become? I-

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Wait. Wait. What is this?

  Why are the Hands of Fate doing this to me? What is there to be gained from such an encounter? Is this a reminder of my oath, the same oath that I have failed to keep all those years ago? Truly, my past comes to haunt me now, after all I have done to give a good life to my family? I am at a loss as to what to do.

  ——————

  Insanity. Madness. How could the power that a Baron wields be broken with such speed and destruction? I have seen insurrections for many years of my life. Some in small villages, towns or areas of the city. But nothing that was this violent or this unpredictable. Malachi’s home exploding into a ball of fire and smoke was one. The Manticore male launching an assault upon the battle was another. The strange warrior woman and the Tashiishan efficiently killing the three Bodyhunters like they were town drunks.

  But facing down Blade, once again, was the one that shook me.

  I have never seen a child with that much hatred in his eyes. He truly wanted me dead and showed no regard for his survival in doing so. I had no choice but to fight him. I did not wish to kill him, but it would have been so very easy to do so. Two others intervened on his behalf, the rope-making girl whom Malachi beheld a befouled attraction for and the tavern drunk that I had written off. People so weak and unskilled in blade-work. I could have killed them all. But I chose not to.

  And I still do not understand why.

  By all reasoning based on my life, my job, the society which my son will be raised in, I should have killed them. But I did not. Maybe it is because I pitied him. Maybe because I saw something in him that I…once… No. It is not good to dwell on the past. Move on. Continue with the path I have and I will do what I can to ease my life away from the work.

  It is the only way which I can honour my bargain with the Hands of Fate, protect my family and appease Baron Markus. I only pray that I have done the right thing in sparing that boy’s life and that he and those he has allied with will spend their lives wisely.

  And not waste it, like mine.