Sisters, are you awake yet? I’ve found something new, something interesting! Wake soon sisters! I’m so lonely!

Damien woke with a start, the back of his head was throbbing painfully and it took him a minute to focus on his surroundings. When he laid eyes on the thick iron bars surrounding him the memories of that slimy bastard of a lord’s final visit flooded back and he howled in anguish and rage, trying to throw himself at the bars in a futile effort to escape. That was how he learned that not only was he in a cage, he was chained to the floor in the corner of the cage. He struggled and tore at the chains with all his might, but it was futile.

When he finally stopped struggling long enough to catch his breath he heard a raspy voice, “Heh, now that was a mighty fine show boys! Looks like we got us a live one! Oi, lad, make sure you put up a fight like that once we get ya into the fights! Me and the boys get a bonus when we bring in real contenders!”

Damien turned to face the voice, glaring at the whipcord thin man who had spoken to him. One of the goons behind the thin man chimed in, “But boss, we was told he ain’t been blooded yet! What if he can’t fight, or he chokes or sumthin? Won’t that look bad on us if’n we talk like he is strong and all, then he dies in his first bout?”

The thin man smirked, “Nah, it will look like that fool lord was lying to get in good with the emperor. We win either way, we get paid good coin to bring this ‘un as a gift to the emperor, if he lives long enough we get rewarded for bringin the emperor a gladiator what takes his first life on the Sands for all to see, or he dies and the emperor blames the fool who sent him.” The man leaned closer to Damien, ignoring the angry glower he got in return “Now, that fool of a lordling may have thought he was gettin rid of a problem, but you want to know a secret, boy? The emperor is going to want that little lordling’s land sooner or later, I would wager that the emperor is going to flay the little weasel alive eventually, and if you die too fast it will happen sooner.”

The talkative goon jumped in at that point, his expression slightly worried, “But boss, if you tell him that, he might let them kill him to get revenge!”

The thin man sneered over his shoulder, “Shut it fool!” he turned back to face Damien with a cruel and cunning grin, “You see boy, what your little lordling doesn’t know, is that the emperor is right fond of his champions. Most folk know that a gladiator that starts as a slave can win his freedom. If you make it that far though, and this here is the important bit,” he said, shaking his finger at Damien, “If you survive long enough, you will get a choice, go free, or join the emperor’s Legion. If you join the Legion, the emperor will gift you a boon. Now, I feel like I have a fair bit of talent when it comes to reading people, sumthin tells me that that little lordling did you a good bit of wrong, and you be wantin to see him hurt for it. That makes your choice a simple one boy. Die early, and hope the emperor is irritated enough by some slimy git’s lies to do him in. Or live and join his Legion, then when the emperor himself asks you what you most desire…” He trailed off suggestively.

Damien got the man’s message loud and clear, fight hard enough and he could ask the emperor to let him gut Lord Erick personally. For a minute Damien desperately tried to care, he knew he shouldn’t want to kill him so badly. His mother had always stressed that he should never kill unless necessary, fight with everything he had yes, kill in battle yes, but to lust after another man’s life? To want to stare into the bastard’s eyes while he ran a blade through him? He growled, no, his life was shattered by one man’s greed, his family casually slaughtered in front of him, he would get his revenge no matter what it took.

The thin man broke into a cruel smile, “Ah, I can see it in your eyes lad, you want blood.” He turned and faced his goons, “Alright boys, looks like we will be breaking out the chain and collar for our little gladiator here, can’t have him out of shape for his debut appearance, now can we?” He turned back to Damien, “Of course, you won’t be let out of that cage and put on a leash just yet. First I’ve got to pick up a few more pieces of merchandise before we head out, and I don’t feel it would be all that smart of me to let you out of that cage before we get a good distance from your little lordling. But don’t you worry, I’ll make sure you get plenty of food and exercise before we get to the Coliseum. Perhaps even a spar or two against some of my men.”

Damien had a sickening feeling that the man meant more slaves when he said ‘merchandise,’ and he felt like he should probably add the emperor that allows such a thing to persist to his list of people that need to die. He hated himself for even considering such a list, let alone having one with so many people on it, because as soon as he thought about adding someone to it he realized that he wanted all of these slavers to die too. Is there something wrong with me? Am I evil, or broken inside somehow? Who am I to decide someone needs to die at a glance? Maybe I deserve these chains. I couldn’t even help my parents fight. Maybe this is my purpose in life, to fight, suffer, and die for the entertainment of a bunch of assholes.

Damien began to flex and twist as best he could with the chains binding him to the floor of the cage, working out the kinks in his muscles that had built up from sleeping in a heap, covered in chains. Grief and rage battled for dominance in his mind, and he was consumed by dark thoughts while he carefully tested the limits of his cage. Cheap iron and shoddy woodwork. Shame they knew enough to keep me from getting too good of leverage, or I would be able to pull these chains free of the floor and likely smash out the bars as well. I wonder what kind of watch they will keep, if they don’t watch me too closely I might be able to get out anyways and get a head start on my list.

The thin man cackled, “Alright boys, keep an eye on this one while I go collect the last of our purchases. We should be setting out within an hour or two. And don’t play with his knife-stick either! The emperor pays good money to deliver strong fighters with unique weapons, and I’ll have your hides if it gets broken before we get paid for it!”

Damien spent the next couple hours sitting and studiously ignoring the goons around the cage. In an effort to keep himself distracted he studied his surroundings, he had been focused on the cage itself initially, and he realized that he had no idea where he was. He must have been out for at least a day, which suggested that they had drugged him with something after hitting him. That meant that the easiest way to find his way back would be to escape after they camped for the night, since they would be traveling away from his home. He winced as the thought of home crossed his mind. He silently cursed Lord Erick, then cursed his lack of knowledge about the towns and villages near his former home. If he had paid more attention to that, he would know what village their train of cage-wagons was stopped outside of.

Eventually the ‘boss,’ who Damien had decided to refer to as Slimeball since he had never gotten his name, returned with a few others in tow that he unceremoniously locked inside one of the cages before calling for them to head out. Damien was treated to an exceptionally uncomfortable ride as they trundled down the road, since he couldn’t adjust his balance to compensate for the bumps and bounces they encountered. He also realized that the other slaves must know something he didn’t, since they kept looking at him with a mix of fear and hatred he just didn’t understand. He couldn’t think of why slaves would look at another slave with such enmity, more, in fact, than they seemed to show for the men that had put them in chains.

It left him stumped, but he decided that he didn’t care anywhere near enough to strike up a conversation with slavers to get answers. Towards evening outside of a larger, walled town, they went through another round of waiting outside while Slimeball went inside to acquire more of his ‘merchandise.’ This time though, Damien was surprised by the number of people the man brought out and threw into cages. All of the other cages were filled practically to bursting, and it didn’t take long to realize that nobody was being put in his cage. At least, not until the very last slave was being tossed into a cage. A totally unremarkable man, the only thing that stood out about him was the fact that he was cheerfully chatting with Slimeball. The man said something that made Slimeball laugh before he gestured the man towards Damien’s cage as he locked the one he had been going to throw him into.

The man walked up to Damien’s cage, seemingly without a care in the world, and introduced himself, “Hello there friend! My name is Jack! A pleasure to make your acquaintance!” Slimeball came and let him into Damien’s cage, before telling them that food would be along shortly and leaving them alone. “Ah, well now that our lovely host has left for a bit, why don’t you tell me about yourself? We probably won’t have much time to talk after we eat, since they usually drug the food to keep us from being nuisances and trying to escape. As I said before, My name is Jack, Jack the Knife.” He paused expectantly, “Well that’s a shame, I thought I had made more of a name for myself, but you’ve never heard of me at all, have you? Ah, food’s here even earlier than I had expected, good show!”

Damien was stupefied by the man’s nonchalant acceptance of his fate, but not too stupefied to miss the fact that they gave him steak and potatoes, albeit poorly cooked and less than appetizing considering the day he had just had, while the other slaves were being brought buckets of slop to fight over. He also noticed that Jack had been given a plate of food like his own and not any of the slop and couldn’t resist asking, “Why are you in here? Are you being sent to the coliseum too?”

Jack chuckled, and explained between bites, “We all are. I’m only getting special treatment because the talent scout over there,” he gestured with his handful of food towards Slimeball, “enjoyed my tale of getting caught and sold into slavery. You see, the lord of that quaint little town yonder caught me with my pants down, on top of his new little wife. Better eat up, if you don’t eat, they don’t let you sleep. Or they bash you over the head until you sleep, depends on their mood.”

Damien reluctantly started eating, only to realize just how hungry he was, and before he knew it the food was gone. He thought about convincing this strange man to help him escape, but the world seemed to be swaying and he kept losing track of his thoughts. The last thing he heard before he fell asleep was Jack’s voice asking him, “So you really haven’t ever heard of Jack the Knife?”