Slave Unbound Ch. 35

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Chapter 35

Laying Traps

**Characters and text are protected under copyright law

Disclaimer: This story is not meant as ‘erotica’, but dark adventure-fantasy. It may contain material that sensitive readers might find uncomfortable. Please be advised.

Even three days later, it still hurt to deeply breath. While the alchemical arts of the Order of Hermadyne bordered on the miraculous for how well and how quickly they could heal an injury, there were still some things that had to heal on their own and at their own pace. Leita’s ribs had taken a serious beating, with almost a third of them being fractured. Healer Einrich had been able to greatly accelerate the process of their repair, but had cited that it would take a week before they fully stopped hurting.

That aside, it was remarkable just how well her other injuries had already faded. Her wrist had been swollen up to nearly twice its size by the time she’d gotten back to the House and the slice out of her shoulder had become enflamed and ugly. Now both injuries were nearly erased from her body. Only a faint blemish of the skin marked where the hunk of flesh had been shorn away and a slight stiffness to the wrist.

Her face too was practically back to normal, though the bridge of her nose was still tender when probed. Hulvuc’s kick had cracked the bone there, and like her ribs, bone took much longer to heal, even with infused elixirs and alchemical poultices. She’d also suffered a mild concussion, again, and that was something else that Einrich didn’t have near as much influence over.

His nostrums and creams could regrow skin in a day and cut bone regeneration down to a fraction, but the brain had to recover on its own. He’d advised the Mistress that Leita needed at least a week of recovery time for that and her brutalized rib cage to properly finish healing. However, fate had apparently decided to disrupt that schedule. She’d still been in a cot in the clinic when Sabrina had come to explain a plan that had been brought to her by Master Crahka. A plan aimed at Master Venge. Leita was at the center of that plan, as bait, and that trap had a swift timetable.

The plan put her at some risk, though precautions would be in place to heavily mitigate any actual danger to her. Still, her injuries and the nostrums she was already taking to heal them complicated things. Poison was at the center of the trap and Leita was very likely to be receiving it. She would, of course, have already been treated with an antidote, but the healer’s medications could potentially interfere with the antitoxin’s potency. Even if they didn’t, she would still feel some degree of effect from the poison and her compromised health made that dangerous.

However, she’d agreed to all of it before Sabrina had even needed to command her to accept such risks. She could weather a little poison, if it meant finally giving a little retribution back to the Baroness’ cohort. Of course, she was also likely to suffer a little more than just being poisoned and not just from the Master of House Victorious.

As she understood it, the stage for the trap was a large social event in the aristocratic quarter. Part of the event was a kind of ‘display’ of slaves owned by attendees. Gladiators were often a highlight to this, being a form of celebrity, but most were particularly beautiful pleasure slaves or highly exotic slaves that represented a feather in their owner’s cap. Leita would be offered as a show piece, her recent wins against both Trinka and Hulvoc cementing the legitimacy of her inclusion.

The displayed slaves could be briefly ‘rented’ during the party by guests who wanted a chance to have some liberties with the beautiful or the unusual, netting the owners a nice bit of coin on the side. This was part of why most of the slaves tended to already be pleasure slaves, but gladiators often turned a tidy profit as well, as it was considered a delicious decadence to make someone who seemed so powerful bow to one’s lustful whims.

Of course, there were several rules that had to be followed by renters, with severe repercussions if they were violated. Damaging one of the displayed slaves, even by accident, resulted in financial restitutions being required and, if done with intent and purpose, could do a bit of damage to one’s reputation. The showcase was meant as a display of good faith that one’s property would be safe, if a bit soiled.

That didn’t stop some slaves being very roughly handled during these exchanges and Leita’s injuries could be seriously complicated if a renter became too ‘enthusiastic’ about getting to be pleasured by a rising star of the arena. She would be restrained during these encounters, as well, so there would be little she could do to reduce any potential damage to her already weakened body. Not to mention the indignities of the whole situation, in general.

Regardless, this too she accepted. It would be far from the first time she’d had liberties kadıköy escort bayan taken with her, as a slave, and she doubted any pampered noble, no matter how depraved they might be, could possibly produce even a fraction as much pain as what she’d already endured from the oruhk chief she’d faced.

In the end, all she had to do was endure a little humiliation and rough hands. Aside from being very likely poisoned, at least. In the end, she was little more than the bait for the whole trap, required to do nothing more than just be there. The real trick would be carried out by agents of the Master of House Blackorchid.

Master Orchidbryar had infiltrated secret agents into House Victorious, ones close enough to both plant ideas into Venge’s head and direct him towards resources to carry forth those plans. Through their manipulations, he’d already learned of her being a featured slave at the gala and had the idea planted of secretly dosing her with a poison that would mimic a death from natural causes. A toxin he could inflict her with while getting to debauch his target before killing her.

The twist was that this same poison would be discovered in the food of a guest. The people who organized the bash were very influential and the event always attracted a number of very high-profile aristocrats and men of political power. Should one of them discover what appeared to be an assassination attempt upon them, anyone in possession of that poison, such as Master Venge, would find themselves in a very socially devastating position, if not outright arrested.

Even if Master Venge managed to convince authorities of his innocence, his social reputation would suffer dramatically, likely losing much of the strong favor he currently enjoyed. The implications alone would destroy his image and name. It might even be the end of his influence and presence within the Grand Arena itself.

Of course, despite Master Orchidbryar’s firm belief that his agents had managed to convince Master Venge to attempt the plan, he might still decide not to risk things. Setting up Leita to get killed in the arena was something he could do without any real chance of repercussion. It would be easier to taint the blade of one of her opponents on the sands than risk being caught with a vial of poison at a social party where people were already cautious of potential assassins.

At worst, he might simply opt to rent Leita and just relish getting to use her within his rights, but do nothing that would harm his reputation. Given his previous attempt at debauching her, he would be very motivated to ensure she regretted the embarrassment she’d given him. And with her being in such a compromised physical state, he could easily claim any injuries he inflicted as being an accident, unaware that she wasn’t in prime condition.

Sabrina had mirrored her thoughts, agreeing that it was very possible that he wouldn’t make a move no matter what was dangled in front of him. However, she could still stand to profit from being included in the gala itself. For her, getting to attend was worth agreeing to the plan at all. She’d not previously ever been granted access to the function, as the organizers were very selective about who got invited. Her own standing in the aristocracy would rise purely by being seen at it.

And if he did make the mistake of trying to ‘accidently’ injure Leita while taking his pleasure, he would pay exorbitantly for it. She intended to make sure that the organizers were made aware of Leita’s delicate disposition and ensure a rather hefty additional fee be added for any injuries to a rising champion. Assuming she was given the ability to, at least.

As it turned out, she was only allowed to attend as Master Crahka’s guest. Apparently, Orchidbryar either couldn’t convince the organizers to invite her directly or it was too late for her to be added to the official invitation listing. They would also be traveling together via a large carriage that was being furnished for them. Normally, Leita would be placed in a separate wagon, transported more like cargo, but it had been arranged for her to be in the same carriage.

To that end, Sabrina had decided that Leita should be ‘cleaned up’ for the occasion. Thus, she now found herself being once again placed into the care of her Mistress’ concubine to prepare for the occasion. This time, however, the experience was a far more pleasant one. Sasiniel was a friend and seemed grateful for the opportunity to finally get to spend some time with Leita again.

“I have seen cheap rope that is silkier than your poor hair, Leita.” Sasinel mused as she struggled to get a brush through the tangled dirty blonde locks. She gave a soft laugh. “Is there any part of you that is not toughened to leather, hei?”

Leita started to chuckle, but it was instantly truncated to a hiss of pain as the sidil hit a particularly gnarly snarl of hair. “My scalp, it would seem.” She offered with a grin.

“My, my, a weakness is finally found.” Sasinel purred, ümraniye escort bayan her accent making the words sound almost melodic. Leita had loved the fluid sound of her voice from the first time she’d ever heard it. Sasinel spoke in a kind of gilded tone, making everything she said sound cultured. Though she was completely fluent in the local language of Karackas, the language of her people had permanently seasoned how she spoke.

Not just in how she pronounced some words, but the way she habitually ended every question with ‘hei’. In her native tongue, it was a part of the punctuation, to help signify that a question was being asked. It sounded so natural to Leita’s ear by now that she barely even noticed it anymore. However, everything else she ever said came out so beautifully that it made her want to just sit and listen to the sidil talk about anything.

“Do you miss it?” She asked the pale concubine after another knot of hair was practically torn out by the brush. “Being on the sands?”

Sasinel paused only the briefest of moments to consider the question before returning to brushing. “That is a difficult question to properly answer. There has been benefits to my new role as the Mistress’s companion, but I do not feel as free as I did when I was allowed to fight.” She glanced at herself in the mirror that was set in front of the two of them.

“It is nice to be always clean and groomed again. To sleep in comfortable bedding. To be surrounded by beautiful things.” Her ice-like eyes glided around the reflection of the room behind them, which was as luxuriously decorated as it had been under Cookie’s tenure, but now also bore many hallmarks of her culture. Sabrina had allowed her the liberty to alter the room to her own tastes and to feel a little more like home.

“However, I feel more a slave than I ever have.” She sighed, her melancholy palpable in the melody of her voice. “My body is even less my own now. I was always at her call to be used for her desires, but now I am regularly given out to her guests, used as some toy for the pleasure of those she wishes to impress.”

Leita considered that she would be spending this evening in a very similar fashion. Her body for sale to whomever felt the desire to play with it. “I guess that’s why she made you her new concubine. Not for her own wants, but as something to show off.” She said, pitying her friend. “I had hoped that her seeming to prefer me in her chambers was sparing you something, but I guess it wasn’t.” For Leita, being used as a sexual plaything was nothing anymore. Something she’d prepared for and expected to endure since she’d been a child.

Unlike Leita, however, Sasinel had known freedom in her life. In fact, her time as a slave had been brief in comparison to the amount of her life that she had not known the feel of a collar around her neck. There was only a little that Leita really knew of Sasinel’s life from before they’d met one another, aside from the ambiguous detail that she’d once been a woman of great honor and reputation in her homeland. Now she was simply the possession of someone. An exotic bauble to be flaunted for someone else’s reputation. The sidil seemed loathe to talk of her previous life, either because it caused her pain to think of what she’d lost or because it seemed pointless now to cling to it.

“Really, when I think about it, you’re the first, and still only, sidil I’ve ever seen.” Leita mused. “I can guess how that rarity makes you seem like some kind of unique treasure. I’m almost surprised that you were ever a gladiator to begin with.”

Sasinel gave a solemn nod of agreement to that, her sadness reflected so starkly in the mirror’s surface that it broke Leita’s heart. “In my homeland, it is strongly discouraged for us to ever leave its borders. The rest of the world sees us as elegant prizes to take claim of, however they might be able. I often wish that I had heeded those warnings.”

She gave a weary sigh. “Still, for all that I suffer here, the Mistress does regard me with some semblance of respect for my skills. As much as I hate these bonds, despise being used as some enticement for rude men she wishes to soften up, the Mistress does recognize that I have many more gifts than just the beauty of my body. So much worse could my fate have been at the hands of someone who would have used me up and left me ruined.”

Leita regarded her thoughtfully. “If there was a way to make it home again, would you take it?” Leita asked, unsure where this curiosity on the subject came. Perhaps, it was simply because she could not, herself, imagine what it would be like to not be the property of someone else. To be in control of her own future.

“Why would you ask such a dangerous question, hei?” Came the sidil’s quiet response. “Such an idea can only wither the heart for the wanting of it, but knowing that it will only ever be denied you.” She gave a sour laugh. “My home might as well be on the other side of the whole world from here. It would take long maltepe escort bayan months to reach and they would be months spent crossing one nation after another full of those who would see me only as something to be claimed.”

Leita peered at her sympathetically. “I suppose.” She reached up and placed a hand on hers. “I’m sorry.”

Sasinel blew out her melancholic demeanor and gave an amused laugh. “The only thing you have to be sorry for is the state you keep your hair in.” She gave a sharp tug of the brush Leita’s tangled mane for emphasis. The yank made Leita gasp as the tough knots resisted every inch.

“We can’t all be exotically beautiful, you know.” Leita said through her grimace. “I make a far better gladiator than pleasure slave, obviously.”

Sasinel gave her a wry look. “Says the one who the Mistress regularly calls to her pleasure most days.”

Leita gave her a smirk. “I’m sure I’m just a passing novelty.” She lied. While she couldn’t really explain it, Sabrina had grown a deep affection for her, an emotional attachment that was giving the women significant trouble. As she considered that, a thought swam into her mind. Might she be able to bargain for her friend and mentor? Somehow convince their Mistress to allow the sidil some greater degree of freedom with reassurances that Sasinel had nowhere else she could go anyway?

She remembered that Cookie seemed completely unfettered to do as she wanted, to leave when she felt the desire to. Sasinel, on the contrary, was not allowed to go anywhere without being escorted by guards. Admittedly, Cookie may have long earned that level of trust and had, at least in word, been allowed her actual freedom and remained because she wished to.

Still, if the sidil could regain even some illusion of the freedom she’d lost, perhaps it would make her life easier. Perhaps the pain of being enslaved against her will could be lessened enough that it did not make her heart hurt so much. Sadly, Leita wasn’t even sure if that would help the woman or just make it worse, being so much closer to freedom, but still bound by a chain.

“I seem to have finally tamed it.” Sasinel said off-handedly, her brush finally passing unhindered through Leita’s hair. “Now to see if I can teach it to do a trick or two.” She laughed.

“I still don’t understand why this is even necessary.” Leita groused, looking at herself in the mirror. “Rather like trying to dye a potato in hopes of it looking like a rose.”

Sasinel clucked at her. “In my homeland, there are those who can carve works of outstanding beauty from something as common as a potato. I would also point out that a hungry man would value the potato over the rose every time.”

Leita sighed. “Well, I’m certainly going to be there for the hungry.” She grimaced a little. “A poisoned meal, after one point.”

Sasinel glanced down at her as she continued to work. “Why would you even agree to allow such a thing, hei?”

Leita gave an honest chuckle. “Would it have even changed things, had I not agreed? Mistress would have only commanded it of me anyway.” With a slight shrug, she added. “I will have the antidote in my system, so I will probably suffer very little effects anyway. Being able to do something to bring some justice to Master Venge is worth a little risk.”

“Even if it means having to endure his hands upon you as well, hei?” Sasinel asked quietly.

“I have endured worse.” Leita replied absently. “If things go as they did when last he tried to take his liberties with me, it may even be amusing.”

The sidil shook her head in amused disbelief. “You are sometimes a very strange creature. I look forward to hearing the story, if it does.”

When the door to Sasinel’s room opened sometime later, Mistress Marlowe sweeping through it flanked by a pair of bodyguards, Leita was just having the last touches put on her. While nothing short of the miraculous could have made her look elegant and demure, Sabrina was still halted in her tracks at the sight of her.

“Arsirona’s Aura, is that really Leita?” She asked breathlessly, a visible ardor filling her almost instantly. “I must seriously commend your work, my dear concubine. She looks almost…too good now. No one is going to believe she is the same scrappy fighter from the arena.”

“Thank you, Mistress.” Sasinel replied respectfully. “You honor me with your praise.”

Sabrina walked close to Leita, inspecting her with a lusty gaze. Instead of the usual sorts of subtle make-up that a pleasure slave might wear, the sidil had chosen dark and striking shades. It was almost like a kind of artistic take on war-paint. Her hair was clean and groomed now, firmly styled with strategic braid-work, beautiful silver hair ornaments woven into her locks. The effect was so attractive that it completely distracted one from how dingy the color was.

As if in reference to her place as a warrior of House Firebridge, she’d been dressed in a gown of supple leather make, cut and designed to accentuate the trimly defined build of her body. Long suede gloves encased her arms almost to the shoulders, though those were bare, as was her clavicle. While Leita’s breasts were not particularly large, the firm bodice of the dress bunched them enough to give her rather pronounced cleavage. It also made her sore ribs weep, but apparently beauty was pain.

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