He exhaled, forcing levity back into his voice. "Anyway, I’ve gone off on a tangent." His slit eyes flicked toward the silver-haired warrior woman again. "That’s Fenja. I don’t know how he managed to chain her, or her sister for that matter. They’re from one of the warrior tribes north of this forest—fierce people. Normally, they’d sooner die on their feet than kneel as slaves."
Cassian drifted into thought, weighing the risk. That mage looked dangerous—soone he couldn’t afford to cross when he was only a single man in enemy ranks. Brigid wouldn’t be able to pull him out of trouble this ti, not even with her grandmother’s help; he’d already managed to piss off the old woman. And even if Brigid could expose sothing to save him, Analisa would notice a slave-binding spell being used. As a grandmage, she’d have the ans to undo it — and if she chose to, Cassian could easily wind up the daily target of whatever punishnts the cult dread up. True, he couldn’t feel pain the way others did, but the idea of being subjected to routine tornt still made his mouth go dry.
Luke’s voice cut through the thinking. "I think it’s because his son—the Shadow Templar—is in command of this battlefield while the Cardinal’s away."
That changed the calculus. A direct offense against the Luminara would be trouble multiplied: his son’s influence here would turn any small mistake into a public execution. Cassian mused aloud, low and clipped, "I could offend him... if I had a good reason. Make it about her — the woman — and put her on a bet. That might work." But that was the person he need to get information from.
He let the idea hang between them, careful to clarify the limit of his plan. "But the bait must be only her. Not him or sothing that offends his son."
Luke studied Cassian for a beat — they’d only just t, but sothing about the kid amused him. "I can help," he said, slow and casual, "but it won’t be free. Gonna cost you so tal."
"How much?" Cassian asked. He didn’t mind paying; he had more coin than sense.
Luke shrugged. "A lot. But there’s a catch—if you snag her as your slave, don’t gut her for sport. Keep the torture to a minimum. I know that’s kinda your thing, but it’s better for everyone if she stays usable." He gave a crooked grin. "Doesn’t cost extra. Just get her to join my squad when you’re done."
Cassian found the terms tempting, though agreeing outright would chip away at the role he’d been carefully maintaining. Still, he stretched a grin across his face, the mask unbroken. "Just give the price. A strong one who won’t bow down easily? That’s the kind of prize worth paying for." Though no matter how heavy his purse was, he couldn’t match any number thrown at him.
Luke’s shoulders sagged, a trace of disappointnt slipping through before he exhaled. "Fine. Have it your way. Five thousand gold. That’s the price for and my squad to make sure that old mage agrees to stake her freedom on your fight."
Cassian blinked, slightly taken aback. He had expected them to demand far more—but five thousand gold? ’That’s it...’ he thought. He knew most Circle Warriors were well-off, but not every First Circle—or even so mid-rank—warrior had his kind of wealth. Being a Circle Warrior was expensive: healing potions, gear, life-saving supplies. Most had spent years building up their resources, while Cassian had only been one for less than a year. Five thousand gold coins was a fortune to them.
"Fine..." Cassian said, letting a faint sigh of regret slip into his voice. "Once she’s under , you’ll get your five thousand gold." He paused, curiosity sharpening. "But tell ... how exactly does this ’slave’ thing work? Is it so kind of spell? A ritual?"
Luke raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised that Cassian had agreed so quickly. He had expected so haggling—or at least an attempt to weasel out of paying. ’But... the money’s good too,’ he thought, standing up. His smile remained casual, but the slight closing of his slit-like eyes betrayed his satisfaction.
"Well, looks like you’ve got a choice—pick the one you think is best," he said. "And rember, even if she doesn’t beco your slave when you two fight, I still need that money. Better make the arrangents before that happens."
"Fine by ," Cassian replied smoothly.
With that, they left the area together, and not caring getting consent from the main subject of the deal, who hadn’t the slightest clue she was being bartered over.
As they walked back toward the village, Luke said, "First, we need to et my squad captain. Gotta discuss how to get things done." He glanced back at Cassian, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Don’t worry—he hates that guy. Unlike us, he’s actually a decent fellow... just stuck in the cult because of so family situation."
Cassian nodded, keeping his expression neutral. "Anything I should be careful about when eting him?"
Luke’s grin widened slightly. "Just keep your... kinks to yourself. If he asks why you want her as a slave, don’t start unloading all your little torture fantasies."
Cassian nodded, but to keep up the act, he let out a small, rueful sigh. "I was hoping I wouldn’t have to hide that part of my life here... but I guess it can’t be helped."
Luke nodded slowly, walking alongside Cassian as they approached the cluster of tents. "You don’t have to hide that part of yourself too much," he said thoughtfully, "but it won’t hurt if you do. Everyone here has... issues. Kinks, habits, weird little compulsions. Doesn’t matter. The trick is just keeping up appearances. Acting normal, even when you’re not."
Cassian raised an eyebrow. "Normal... in a cult where half the people probably want to gut each other for fun?"
Luke let out a low, amused chuckle. "Exactly. That’s the beauty of it. Everyone here has so dark corner they keep hidden, but most manage to keep it under wraps—it makes daily life easier. And trust ... once you start noticing what everyone likes to do, who they want to hurt, how they want to do it... making friends gets a lot trickier. At least, that’s my take. Though so are happy to share their little fantasies—you might even find yourself joining that crowd."
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