"What a whore you are to submit yourself to the men!" she screeched, grabbing my hand in her death grip.

"Self-virtuousness is the only means!" screaming again. She pulled me to the edge. Her voice echoed all the way down fifty feet of height.

"Leave me! I don't want to go!" I struggled against the grip she had on my arm. It hurt.

"No whore, come with me!" and she hauled me down, causing my foot to lose its balance.

All I could feel was the rush of air through my lungs as I started my journey down. Below me, I could see her black hairs whipping wildly around her face as she howled, her voice resonating through the thorn forest where we would land and die.

"As if I'll let you die so soon," a pair of arms gathered around my waist and hoisted me upwards.

Surprisingly; back to the open corridor from where the woman had pulled me.

My heart was thumping madly at what happened. I couldn't stop shivering from the feel of going down with such velocity. Opening my eyes somehow, I only saw the woman who was pint-sized by now. Then,

A loud THUD!

I cried out in horror and held the closest thing. Squeezing myself nearer to it as much as possible.

But it wasn't an 'it'. It was a specific someone.

A 'him'.

My arms were looped around his neck. The intense structure of abs on his torso grazed through my thin linen and I came fully awake. Wide awake.

Julian

His eyes were locked on mine, holding me firmly with a hand on my back. But there was something different in his gaze,

Unmistakable tenderness was the thing that surprised me.

Then I realized our position.

"I- I apologise..." I stepped back, tried to free myself from his hold. But he held on.

"Don't be, Althea," he whispered, holding me in a way that didn't hurt a speck.

His hands cupped the back of my head, rubbing gently on a bump I never knew was there.

I was speechless.

Was this barbarian... caring?

"ALTHEA!" a voice roared, causing us to whip our head to the source.

Julian stood with a sword tightened in his hand, jaw fixed on a hard set. The sword dripped with dark blood, making a pool of thick blood at his feet.

"Who told you to come out of the camp?" he thundered. "Do I have to chain you to the bed now?!"

I turned my head back to the Julian holding me. A troubled expression covering his face. He looked much sensible than the one roaring at us.

The stare directed by angry and much realistic Julian had me struggling again out of his embrace.

"Althea," saner Julian whispered calmly,

"He's just a façade, don't be afraid," his fingers reached to stroke my cheeks, looking down at me so adorably that I couldn't believe.

So lost in his sincerity, I didn't realise angry Julian's hand curling around my arm to pull me in an abrupt tug. I crashed against his chest.

"Get the heck away from my eyes!" he growled at saner Julian, who just gave him a look filled with pity.

"You're going to regret it, Julian," he told him cautiously.

"NO, I am NOT!" angry Julian appeared no less than an untamed animal. Dragging me to the edge of the opening, he pushed me down in one swift motion,

"Ha! See I don't regret it!" he yowled at humane Julian, whose eyes were now red, soaked with tears.

I fell and fell... but never reached an end. It was a long journey that I couldn't fathom when would it stop. Julian's red eyes were the only thing moving in my head. Everything else was blank.

"Do you think it's me who has pushed you? You keep falling off the damn bed," an arm circled around my waist, pulling me back from the edge I thought was the fifty feet opening of the mass suicide.

I opened my eyes slowly, blinking repeatedly to adjust to the sharp light. Lifting myself in a sitting position, I scanned the camp to see Julian standing away from the bed, a perplexed look sitting on his face.

My legs weren't feeling heavy anymore. I found the chains to be missing.

Good gracious.

I stretched myself from the tardiness and pressed a hand at the back of my neck, feeling utter relief that the pain was gone.

Must be due to the adequate sleep I got.

He tilted his head, watching me with unwavering eyes. I rose a brow and asked what came to my mind.

"What is your name?"

I could tell he was taken aback. His face turned sour, and he went back to his assortment of swords, clearly ignoring my question.

"I am a writer!" my voice came higher than intended, "I need to know!"

He turned his head around from the hunched position. I didn't know what pleasure I was deriving from his annoyance.

"I don't think you are a Greek woman," he snorted.

"Lucky you to land in Egypt. Wouldn't have been able to survive a single day in Greece with that mouth."

Cheers, he actually spoke something other than his usual threats.

However, he was right. Women had no, absolutely no rights in Greece during this era. You name a thing, and that was banned for them.

"Name please," I drawled out, "I won't call you so obviously, I would just-"

"Julian Romanowski," he cut me off, "and it's master for you unless you learn to behave."

What a smooth name.

The title was strikingly similar to something prior to my knowledge. Romanowski.

"So, you don't use the Ptolemy title? I haven't heard Romanowski, like shouldn't it be Julian Ptolemy Soter-"

"SHUT UP!"

I stilled at his thundering voice. He got up from his sitting position, temperament looking so lethal he could rip apart anyone who would so much as breathe in his direction.

"Shut. Up," he repeated, meaning every word to the core. His bulging arms looked like freaking python. One twist around my frame and I'd be dead.

"Do you know how easy it is for me to sell you in the Greek market? Perhaps it's a kyrios you need to checkup that mouth," he turned his neck to glance at the wall behind him.

"Oh well, why would you need one when I'm here? Should I resume where I had left the whip?" he threatened, walking back to the deadly lashes. This time, I noticed a small iron blade welded at the end of each whip.

"N- No Jul-, " I bit my lip,

"No, master! I am so sorry."

His hand left off an inch from picking the whip. He turned around with an incredulous look. "Who told you can use my name?"

It was hopeless of me to take him to be the saner Julian. Maybe he was just a figment of my imagination.

There was an enormous gap between us. The fact that I could never be open to him made me sad. Because that was the key aspect to write about him.

But what was the point of being sad in the first place? It's not like he did anything except threaten and hurt me. Then again, who was I fooling?

He's a fourth century warrior, for god's sake. Women are there just to satiate their needs, not a lovey-dovey sweetheart to cherish upon.

I shouldn't have watched all those historical flicks. They had messed up my head pretty badly with practicality.

Amidst the thought process, I didn't realize he had closed on. I jolted from his nearness, but he grabbed both my hands in one. The look on his face was like that of a rabid dog.

A rabid lion, to be specific.

With the other hand, he fetched a series of iron rings attached with rusty chains. Gripping my hands in one, he used his other hand to lock the rings around individual wrists.

Two iron rings were secured around my wrist now. A chain dangling between them, long enough to facilitate movement.

"Get up and be ready. You'll be walking with the other slaves," he declared and strode out of the camp.

Glaring at my handcuffed hands, I decided on one thing.

I'll definitely write about this exceptional securing system. None of the experiences should go wasted.

Just so I could hold up with my writer sanity.

***

"Where are we... going?" the girl beside me panted for breath as unlimited sweat poured out ourselves.

"Romanos," I heaved out, "It's the kingdom.. our master rules."

"Ahh... I can't walk anymore," she gasped, halting for a moment to rest her chained hands on the knees.

My throat was parched again as the cruel Egyptian Sun beat down at us. The burning sand engulfed my feet through the wooden sandals.

Large number of slaves walked in one disarrayed line. Chains and shackles tied to their neck, feet and hands. While the warriors rode on horses, some walked along with us to check if anyone was trying to escape.

"I don't understand. Why have they chained us with this heavy thing? We could walk faster if we weren't tied," she huffed, not even able to gulp due to the dry throat.

Hot air blew across the desert as it picked up particles of sand along, choking us to asphyxiation. Even the trees in the distance became hazy because of the sandstorm.

"Wait, a sec... I can't, oh my God," I halted, not able to continue further. This was impossible.

Wherever this Romanos kingdom was, I could not walk with the chains weighing me down, my neck pricking like I swallowed the sand.

"Sec huh? What is sec?" she wheezed but was cut short when the sickening sound of whip emanated as it hit her soft skin.

"Who said you can talk, hah?!" the warrior who was assigned to check on the slaves shouted, mad fury blazing in his half-burnt face.

"Get moving! It's because of you worthless maggots. We would be late!" he shouted, raising the whip again on the sobbing girl, but I pushed her behind.

"Stop please, we- we will walk," I trembled, peering at the whip that dripped with the blood of other slaves he had hit. It was unjust.

Though I wanted to spit on his face and tell him what a maggot he was, I couldn't. There was no advantage in showing sass.

If I wanted to survive and write the travelogue, I had to keep low and follow the crowd.

His gaze landed on my eyes as he stared deeply into them. A maniacal grin spread across his disfigured face.

He grabbed me by the elbow.

"You, come with me."