I do not know how much time I spent in this cell. But one day a young handsome man in a black jacket and high leather boots entered. In his hands he held a thin whip with a rubber petal on the end. He immediately slapped me on the chest with this whip and ordered me to kneel. I obediently executed the order and even lowered my head down.

The man looked at me from all sides for a long time, but without saying anything, he quickly left. But soon a tall, plump woman entered the camera. I ran a cold on my skin when I saw her face. It was all covered with signs of smallpox, the eyes are small, and the look is so angry that I could not stand it and turned away.

This woman quickly came close to me and with a sweep she weighed a strong slap.

- look at me, rubbish! - She screamed in a nasty low voice and hit me again.

Then more and more. The blows fell one after another, and I could not even defend myself from her hands. Tears flowed in a stream, but it only inflamed the babyshchu, and she continued to beat me more and more. Her nose was bleeding, her lips were broken, her cheeks were burning, and she beat me all the while and laughed loudly, enjoying her power.

- Enough! - I suddenly heard a voice, - The blacksmith is waiting. Bring her upstairs.

“As you say, Master,” croaked the woman and dragged me out of the chamber.

Before taking to the yard, they put a bag of coarse burlap over my head. I did not see anything. You could only hear the hammer on the anvil. Suddenly, I heard a heart-rending cry, and behind him again came the loud neighing of a mistress.

“Let's come next,” a male voice shouted.

I was picked up and lowered to my knees, chest pressed against the log. Then they removed the leather collar and immediately put an iron one on his place. A hammer popped, and soon the hoop tightly squeezed my throat. The blacksmith tapped the hammer a bit on it, and it became easier for me. The collar took shape neck.

When I was put on my feet, I felt the weight of this slave iron. I began to cry again, but no one was concerned. And again they dragged me somewhere, but first they removed the shackles from their feet and released their hands.

When the bag was pulled off my head, I realized that I was in a common barrack. Next to me lay curled like a kitten, a dark-skinned girl. She wore almost nothing of clothing, and a severe burn burned on her thigh. Then I learned that this was the personal stamp of the owner, and that soon they would put me the same, only on the left breast.

“But you have no stigma,” Horn interrupted the girl.

- True, sir, - the slave smiled, - Earl for some reason delayed branding. But it was even worse.

- Why? - the young man was surprised.

- When you constantly wait for this and see what other people suffer, you begin to experience spiritual anguish. So short to go crazy. And the slaves look askance at you, whisper among themselves that you are special. And then there's some foolish fantasies appear. Like, the owner wants to let this slave. And there and further: he will give money, he will find a good husband.

“Did Count Lazar ever let anyone go?” - crookedly asked, was Gorn.

“I don’t remember this,” Livia shrugged. “But there have been cases when slaves just disappeared.” Tonight he is sitting on a chain with everyone in the barrack, and in the morning he has caught a trace.

They sat for a long time, looking at the fire, and were silent, thinking about their own.

“It's time to sleep,” Gorn said at last, “Tomorrow is a lot to do.”

“Yes, sir,” Livia pressed her cheek to her master's foot.

“The night is cold,” the young man said thoughtfully. “I want you to warm me in bed.”

- Yes, sir, - the girl jumped to her feet, - I will cook now.

“Prepare, slave, and wait for me,” smiled the young man. “I will come soon.”

Outside the window, the storm broke out with a new force, but for Horn and Libya this no longer mattered. They were together, and any adversity was nothing to them.

ANOTHER RUNNER

It was late evening. Rain tediously pounded on the roof. Kull was lying on his couch, staring blankly at the ceiling of the shack. The wound on his shoulder still made itself felt, but he already got used to the pain and hardly noticed it. His thoughts were occupied by others. Today Kull was summoned to the master. The master's behavior surprised the slave a little. The count inquired about his state of health, and then set off into lengthy arguments, the meaning of which remained a mystery to the giant.

Again and again he scrolled the words he heard in the office of his master, but he could not understand what he was headed for. At first glance, he forgot about the miss of his servant. But only those who did not know Lazar as well as Kull knew could think so. Count never forgave anyone even the slightest mistakes.

A small phrase suddenly came to mind. The owner said that his faithful slave might be tired, and it’s time to think about peace. One could only guess what it meant, but Kull had the most overcast thoughts about it.

Due to the noise of increased rain, he did not hear the door open. It was only when someone’s shadow slid along the wall that the slave turned his head. In the dim flame of a candle that burned on the table, he distinguished a small figure of Mi. Kull noticed how the girl was beaten with a small nervous tremor.

- What's the matter? - He asked in surprise, - Why are you trembling?

“I ...,” the slave took a shy step towards the bed, “Sir!” I...

- What does it mean? - Kull grabbed the girl by the shoulders, - What else have you done?

On the arms and legs of the slave, heavy shackles gnawed dully, instead of the usual dress she wore a canvas canvas, which represented the usual broad band with a hole in the middle. Instead of a belt, the waist made a cloth apron. Only the checkered shawl remained unchanged.

- What are you chained for? - Kull asked more gently, pressing the girl to his chest.

“Oh, sir,” she whispered, “the Master does not explain his actions.” But don't worry about me. Maybe everything will cost.

Mi raised her head, and Kull read in her look a poorly concealed alarm.

“Sir,” having mastered herself, the slave already spoke more confidently, “You need to run.”

- Why? - croaked the slave.

“Today I served the host at dinner,” she began, a little worried, “He had Claro.” He, of course, did not sit at the table, but stood nearby. The owner ordered him to finish with you tonight. I gasped involuntarily, and the owner sent me to the stable. Claro gave me ten lashes and shackled me.

- Bastard! - the giant howled, clenching his fists in fury, - I will tear him to pieces!

“Your wound,” Mi gently touched her shoulder, “She hasn't healed yet.” And Claro is healthy and very strong. Do you have to go.

- And you will take the rap, baby, - Kull replied with a wry smile, - I even hate to think what they will do to you.

- Well, they will cut them out, - the slave shrugged her shoulders, - Well, they will give them to the soldiers for the night. But I will stay alive. But what will happen to you, mister? If Claro kills you, then I have no reason to live. Run! Maybe you are saved. And I will pray for you.

“Can't I leave you here to be eaten by these hyenas!” - the slave again grabbed the girl by the shoulders.

“Hurry up,” the black woman insisted, “It's midnight soon.” Claro will not wait.

Kull growled like a wounded lion. He, more than anyone else, knew that the little slave was right. Claro has long been looking for a reason to get rid of the hated rival. Nobody knew what two slaves could share among themselves. But among the servants the most incredible rumors persisted, one of which was that Claro had once stolen Kulla's mistress. Where this slave got to, no one could say with certainty, but many claimed that after this incident these slaves were only looking for an opportunity to break through each other's head.

She herself began to hastily fold Kull’s belongings into a small canvas bag. Then, looking around, she took a dagger from under her apron.

“Take it, sir,” she said softly ... Read more →