“I knew you would follow me,” came a hoarse voice behind him.

Gorn sharply turned and drew the blade. Only at the last moment did he hold his hand. In front of him, leaning against the wall of the barn, stood Kull. He did not even try to defend himself. His clothes were completely torn, his shoulder bandage was soaked with blood. Apparently, the wound caused a few days ago did not heal and was now bleeding. A fresh scar on his bald head.

“Do not waste your strength, lord,” Kull croaked hoarsely, breathing hard, “I will not even defend myself.” If you wish, you can kill me.

“I’ll still be in time,” Gorn sheathed his dagger, “How did you get here?”

“Long story,” said the slave, “I ran away from the count.” But I'll be back.

- What for?

“Well, not to thank him for his worries,” the giant mumbled with a malicious grin, “I ...”

Suddenly his eyes rolled up, and Kull slowly began to sink to the ground. His dark skin began to turn a deadly whitish color. Horn, without thinking twice, caught the slave and dragged him into the shed. Putting it on the straw bedding, he sat down beside him.

“Kill me, sir,” Kull hissed, trying to raise his head.

“Lie still,” Gorn ordered him. “I'll be back soon.”

Kull exhaustedly dropped his head on the straw and fell into oblivion. The young man took off his cloak and hid the slave with it. Out on the street, he quickly headed for the forge. Primus, having listened to him, picked up some flasks and tools, and they both went to the slums.

“I don’t understand why you need all this,” grumbled the blacksmith, barely keeping up with Gorny, “At first this slave, but then I can still comprehend something.” Then a half-dead slave. Who will be next? I would not be surprised if Gant or someone from his gang turns out to be one.

- That's good, - grinned the young man, pointing to the breach, - We came.

Primus was not only a good blacksmith. Gorn watched with admiration as he cleverly processed the wound, stopped the blood, then, taking a long thin needle and vein from the bag, carefully sewed it up and put on a clean bandage.

- Where did you learn this? - asked the young man.

“I lived in the barracks for several years,” Primus replied, wiping his hands, “Anything has happened.” Sometimes he had to deal with healing when soldiers in a drunken stupor waved their swords. They said that my hand was light.

“They are right,” Kull opened his eyes, “I felt nothing.”

- Can you stand up? - Gorn sat down to the slave.

“I'll try,” the giant, groaning, rose to his feet.

- Sip wine, - Primus handed a slave a pumpkin flask, - It will give you strength.

Kull fell to the neck with cracked lips with pity. Soon his face was covered with a thick blush, and his eyes sparkled. Rising to his feet, he, swaying, headed for the far corner of his refuge. Rummaging in a pile of straw, the slave pulled out a canvas bag.

“Sir,” he said in a weak voice, “What must I do to deserve your forgiveness?”

“Tell me why you ran away from Sebastian,” Horn explained. “But not here.” I don't have time now. I'll take you to the house where I live, and we'll talk in the evening.

- Yes, my lord, - Kull bowed his head as a sign of resignation, - I am a slave, but I have not yet lost a human face.

“By the way,” the young man pointed out to Primus the collar, blackened at the giant's throat, “Can you take it off?”

“I have the tools with me,” the blacksmith's porter's bag, “I'll try.”

CLARO

Claro was urgently summoned to the earl, barely dawn. He stood before his master, arms folded, and listened attentively to his order, eagerly catching every word. Sebastian, as usual, seated in his huge armchair, trimmed with black velvet, spoke loudly, sometimes breaking into a heart-rending cry. But the hysterics quickly receded, and his voice again gained confident intonation and firmness.

Count Lazar stumbled upon this small man in the forest while hunting. Claro, apparently also deciding to replenish his supplies, shot down the roe and was about to carve the carcass when the owner of these places suddenly appeared in front of him. Attacking the hunter, Sebastian made a terrible accusation of assassinating someone else’s property and poaching, and immediately offered an option to which Claro agreed, without hesitating for a second. It is not known what the count was thinking about, but the hunter immediately understood his advantage.

From the first minutes of appearing in the castle of Lazar, Claro gained fame as a cruel and cunning scoundrel, which he was in reality. His aversion to this man was aggravated by his eerie appearance: a huge body that looked like an elongated barrel, the body hardly knit with short curved legs, always shod in heavy peasant shoes with heels like a horse. Huge muscular arms possessed superhuman strength. On the first day, Claro effortlessly with one blow pacified a raging mule, who did not want to get into the yoke. I had to say goodbye to the poor cattle. He had a broken skull. But the count only grinned and did not punish his new servant for damaging his property.

But a special horror inspired his creaky voice. It seemed that he penetrates the mind, hypnotizes, makes obey. At the same time, Claro looked at his interlocutor with rounded, colorless eyes, in whose unblinking gaze was read only fierce hatred of all who came across his path. And in moments of special rage, his bald head, framed by sparse hairs that looked like matted tow, was covered with drops of sweat, and blue veins on the back of his head.

Of all the servants, only one Kull did not fear this freak. And one day, when Claro, of his own will, decided to punish a slave for the fact that, in his opinion, he didn’t respond too courteously, Kull grabbed a heavy whip from the hands of the freak, with whom he wanted to beat the poor girl, two days did not leave his home.

Claro harbored a grudge against the giant and began to wait patiently for an opportunity to take revenge on an insignificant slave. Like a shadow, he followed Kull everywhere, looking, listening, remembering. But nothing could be done. The slave was still in favor of the owner, and he, apparently, appreciated this burglar more than the jagged freak.

But finally, Claro was rewarded for his patience. Once, the count ordered Kullu to punish one of the slaves who worked in the house. What caused the owner's anger was not discussed, although it was clear to everyone: the girl did not satisfy the gentleman in bed. Claro saw a slave sobbed and rested on a lasso dragged into a torture chamber. Kull walked behind, holding in his hands the very whip that walked along his back.

Rolling over on his crooked legs, Claro followed them, but was not allowed into the cell. Kull slammed the heavy iron door shut in his face. When the guards left, Claro snuck into the basement and heard loud cries of the unfortunate. Another would quietly walk away, but this torture lover was not like that. He decided to wait until the end of the execution and evaluate the talents of his opponent in the matter of punishment.

When the door opened, Cloré from his cover clearly saw Kull dragging a “punished” slave on his shoulder. But the experienced eye of the sadist immediately noted that this theater was played out especially for him and the owner. When the “battered” slave was left in the barrack and was not even put on a chain, Claro understood everything. This slave was Libya. Kull did not torture the beauty, knowing full well that the girl was not to blame. It was just that Sebastian was in a bad mood that night.

Immediately everything was reported to the graph. Lazar was infuriated, but the first to be caught by him was the scammer himself. Sebastian mortified him so that the natural deformity was nothing compared to what turned into the physiognomy of his new servant. Since then, on the face of Claro remained scars and scars caused by his master, and in the head of the ugly began to see a plan of terrible revenge.

Upon learning of this, Kull arranged for Libya to escape, furnishing ... Read more →