King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(42)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“He is the most powerful man in all of Greece, appointed by the gods themselves.”

Okay. King is a representative of the gods. Or at least that’s what they believed. Honestly, given what I knew about him, it would be an easy assumption for people to make. He was, after all, not exactly human.

“Why is he sending you away?” the redhead asked.

“I don’t know.” Not entirely true, either. King was mad, and he knew it. He wanted me to be as far away from him as possible.

“Did he not tell you?” said the blond.

I shook my head no.

“Perhaps she is a thief, and he likes her,” said the other guy. “She is very pretty.”

“I’m not a thief. But if I were, why would that matter?” I asked.

“He would not send you away; he would have you executed.”

“For stealing?” I asked.

“You really have not heard of Draco, have you? He is not kind,” said the blond.

“He is not meant to be,” argued the other. “He is meant to serve justice.”

“He’s an executioner?” I asked.

“He is the law.”

Jesus. King was some Ancient Greek purveyor of justice. Damn. I could envision him really getting off on that. It would appeal to his domineering maleness in a big way. That said, I needed to help him, not go “far, far away.” I needed to break the…

Fuck. That’s when I realized I’d traveled forward without the Artifact. No, no, no. I let out a heavy breath. Don’t panic, Mia. Think.

All right. Maybe I could find a way to go back and retrieve it. But how? I didn’t know how I’d managed to leave Minoa in the first place.

I hit rewind and recalled the moment I’d landed in that dark room. I’d been sitting next to the dying fire on the beach, thinking about King, wondering what had happened to turn him so violent that night on the island.

Maybe that was the real reason I was here; this was another chance to change things. I need to go back and talk to King.

“Wait,” I said to the two men. “I have to—”

Blondie whipped out a dagger and pushed me forward. “Keep going.”

I stopped walking to test if he really intended to use the knife or simply wanted to intimidate me. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Blondie nodded at the other guy, who picked me up and threw me over his shoulder. I fought, and people didn’t seem to care one bit as I yelled and clawed at his back.

We made our way into a crowded square, where I was deposited in front of a large man with white hair who had a crowd of filthy-looking thugs gathered around. The moment the white-haired man saw me, he immediately stopped what he was doing. “Well, well. What have we here?”

Blondie proudly said, “I want my debts wiped clean.”

The man smiled and flashed a mouth full of rotting teeth. “Chain her up over there.”

“Asshole. You’re selling me?” I couldn’t believe I had to go through this again. Only this time, I was being sold away from King.

“Sorry,” said Blondie. “If our master does not want you, then I cannot let a good opportunity like this pass by.” He faced the man. “Make sure she gets sold elsewhere.”

The man nodded, clearly understanding that I was stolen goods.

“You were supposed to take me somewhere far away, somewhere safe,” I protested.

“Trust me,” said Blondie. “You will be taken far. As for ‘safe,’ that will be up to you keeping your mouth shut.” Knife in hand, he pushed me up onto a cart with five other women and then shackled my wrist to a thick chain running along the side. I barely had enough room to sit. From the elevated vantage point, however, I truly registered where I was: in the midst of an ocean of slaves as far as the eye could see. Some in cages, some chained together in long lines. It was a time in history when humanity lacked the utter definition of the word.

After nightfall, the caravan of horses and carts headed out of the city. I couldn’t see much on the dark road, but it felt like being on a movie set for Spartacus. Every man I saw was dirty, smelly, and armed, including the battalion of soldiers—some on horses, but most on foot—accompanying this particular shipment as we made our way inland. With every passing hour, the air grew colder, and I knew I needed to get the hell out of there before I became someone’s property.

What a goddamned nightmare. I bet Justin, aka the history nut, would love being here, though.

My mind hit a brick wall. Justin. With everything that had happened, I’d briefly forgotten about him and my parents. And now I realized that I’d done nothing to change the bleakness of their future. Nothing. All of the major pieces remained intact: King’s people ending in war because of Hagne, King becoming cursed, the Artifact…

I wanted to scream. It felt like no matter what any of us did, fate was determined to see things play out in a certain way.

I don’t care. I still have to try. As long as I still breathed, I would not give up. Not on my family. Not on King. As soon as the caravan stopped, I would break free and make my way back to him. I needed to make sure he knew about the Artifact, that there was a way to break his curse.

It felt like six hours had passed before the caravan halted to allow the men to rest. They built small fires and brought out what I assumed was their wine. They didn’t offer any of us “chattels” water or food, and needless to say, there were no bathrooms. That meant when you had to go, you went over the side of the cart if you could manage it. The conditions were horrible, despicable, and beyond imaginable.

I’d seriously had enough.

“Hey!” I screamed at the group of six soldiers gathered around the fire closest to me. “Are you ass**les seriously going to sit there? Give these people some water. Let us stretch our legs.”

They didn’t bother to turn their heads in my direction.

“Helloooo. I’m talking to you.” They continued eating and drinking.

“You’re all a bunch of disgusting, immoral pigs. I just want you to know that. Seriously, I’ve met piles of horse shit with more attractive qualities. Although, I admit you all smell just as lovely. Haven’t you heard of a bath?”

I heard the other women in the cart snicker under their breath.

One of the men, a lean tall guy with brown hair and a long beard, stood slowly and approached. I expected him to tell me to shut the hell up, but that’s not what happened. He simply stood there and looked me over, his expression cool and calculating.