"No, please, don't do this! Don't take me back to him!" the young woman begged, as she had the entire way back here, but her pleading fell on deaf ears even as her tears wet his shirt. Cadmus hardened his heart to her, as he had done with many people before her, and pushed onward as she cried and struggled in his grip, slung over his shoulder like a sack. She kicked at him, but she couldn't do much damage, for he'd bound her legs and arms in anticipation of a struggle.
Right then, he wished he'd thought to gag her, too. At least then he wouldn't have to listen to her begging sobs.
But do this enough times, and soon enough, even that could be tuned out.
This wasn't the sort of job Cadmus normally took on, this...this re-capturing of slaves. But the usual jobs weren't coming in much lately, and he'd been short on money, and antsy with inactivity. So, he'd taken it. It was easy money; the girl had been easy to track, and easy to capture. Hadn't even put up much of a fight. For a moment, it had sickened him, and he'd been sickened by just what he was doing--capturing a girl that couldn't even defend herself, taking her back to gods knew what kind of fate--but at the end of the day, it wasn't his problem.
And if he didn't do it, someone else would, anyway. The girl was already doomed.
Stepping up to the door of the brothel, Cadmus banged on the door until a greasy man opened it. His captive sobbed harder, but Cadmus simply slung her down from his shoulder, pushed her toward the man, and held out his hand. "My payment."
When he left the brothel, coin purse substantially heavier, he felt almost as greasy as that man had looked. He tried to erase from his mind the look that woman had given him before she'd been pushed back inside.
It wasn't his problem.
That was what he told himself as crossed town to the nearest tavern, and settled into one of the tables. That was what he told himself as he ordered a frothy pint and proceeded to drown the memory from his mind, and wash away some of that greasiness.
Not his problem.
