Mark of the Thief (Mark of the Thief 1) - Page 9

Tears were running down Livia's face and they only increased when she saw me. I hated seeing her so upset and wished she could've hidden her feelings better. Because unless we escaped, I would die in the mines anyway, and when I did, my last thought would now be the picture of what that would do to my sister.

Sal came from the other direction and the guards pushed me out of the wagon and then set me on my knees. I immediately noticed that Sal was limping and his cheek was badly bruised. I wondered if those injuries had come from Radulf after Sal lost me in Caesar's cavern.

Sal greeted me with a kick directly to my gut. I had expected something like that and, frankly, was glad he didn't do worse. I took the kick with my eyes down and tried to recover my breath without falling over. The bulla was as heavy as it had been when I tried to run with it inside the cave, far heavier than gold should be. If I was going to take a beating for the bulla, then I figured that confirmed my right to keep it. So when I sat up, I angled my body to hide it better from him.

Livia was closer to me now. I only saw the edge of her skirt, but her cries rang in my ears. I tried telling her to leave but still didn't have enough breath for words. All I had to do was explain myself. Things would return to normal.

"So you're alive?" Sal didn't sound entirely happy about that fact.

"He was trying to escape," a guard said. "We found him near the lake." They didn't mention our encounter with the senators. Neither would I.

"I was only eating berries!" I looked up now. Sal's face was bruised worse than I had first thought. No matter my feelings for him, I still wouldn't have wanted him injured for something I'd done wrong. "When the entrance collapsed, I had to find another way out, and I did. I would've come back here."

"Why would anyone return to this place?" Sal said. "You're not only an escapee, but a liar too."

My eyes darted over to Livia, whose face had drained of color. She often told me that if I ever had the chance to escape, I should do it, even without her. I always replied that I wouldn't leave her behind.

"I belong in these mines," I said. "This is my life."

"There's no life here, Nic! When will you understand that?" He was screaming at me now, but I had to let him do it. Once he calmed down, he'd allow me back in.

I nodded toward the guards. "Have them untie me and I'll go back to work right now."

"Are you asking me to forget about your disobedience before? Or your attempted escape?"

Well, no, not asking in words. Though it would've been nice.

He continued, "And what happens if I return you with the other slaves, with your story about an exit deep inside the mines, and your belly full of berries? What will they think of that? What will they believe about their own chances to escape?"

I could have promised not to say anything, but he wouldn't have believed me and besides, the story would get around anyway. Whispers that I had survived the cave's collapse were probably already floating through the mines.

"Brand his forehead," the guard behind me said. "Let him be a lesson to any others who think about escaping."

"No!" I cried. "Please, Sal, don't do that!" If there was even the smallest chance of my becoming free one day, I could never build any sort of life with my face marked as an escaped slave. Branding my forehead would steal away my last hope. But maybe that was the exact reason why Sal would do it.

Sal brushed a hand over his bruised cheek as he thought it over. Then he crouched near me and parted my hair to reveal my forehead. He tapped the skin and smiled. "We'll put it right here, in big, black, burned letters."

"Don't do it, Sal." My heart pounded wildly, causing my hands to tremble. "You know I wasn't trying to escape. If I had intended to go, I would've succeeded."

"I know that." He removed his hand from my head. "General Radulf was furious when you disappeared. I told him that after everything settled in a few weeks, we could dig out the cave entrance again and get another man to go in. But that wasn't the reason for his anger. He was upset because you'd be dead by the time we got back inside. Tell me, Nic, why does a general of the Roman army care if you're alive?"

I shook my head, genuinely confused. "I don't know. I think you misunderstood him."

"And did you get whatever he wanted you to find in there?"

Letting Sal even touch the bulla was intolerable. He'd stain it with the grease of his hands, and tarnish it with his own corruption. "No, sir," I said, looking him straight in the face. No matter how wrong it was to lie to a master, I couldn't give the bulla up to him. Not to anyone.

Sal searched my face for any sign I was lying, and I was certain he would figure me out. I didn't care. Where I should've felt guilt for my lies, I only felt anger that he was forcing me to tell them. It wouldn't matter anyway. Surely he would sense the tumult of emotions inside me and know the truth.

But he didn't. And from the darkened expression on his face, I soon realized what a mistake it had been to lie. Because without the bulla, he had no reason to tell Radulf I had escaped from the cave. My life was worth nothing to him.

A wicked grin spread across Sal's face. "We can't let the other slaves think there's a way out of the mines. And if they do, they need to know the consequences of trying to leave. It's not enough to brand this boy's forehead. We have to kill him."

Despite my struggles, the guards threw me back into the wagon and held me tight. They wouldn't do it here, in view of the others. Instead, they'd take me back down the hill and leave my body in the weeds for the vultures to find. That terrified me more than anything. To enter the other world without a burial -- I'd never be able to rest, not for the eternities.

"No!" Livia screamed. "Let him live, Sal, please. He's the only family I have left!"

"Slaves don't get to have families!" Sal said. "Because of your foul brother, that general almost ordered my death yesterday. He's not worth the trouble, not even for you. He's a curse."

Tags: Jennifer A. Nielsen Mark of the Thief Fantasy
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