Thank Hakeshna he could vanish, because when Herrick announced three men approaching, Yasmin about had a heart attack.
But then he was gone, and Yasmin blinked in confusion at the place he'd been before, hearing the footsteps growing closer, she took a quick seat on her cot. A key turned in the lock right as she sat down, and she did her best to look bored and casual as the door swung open.
In the doorway stood the soldiers and they were flanking a tall, strong-looking man in his middle years. Faruq Darzi, her master and a notable merchant. And he did not look amused. Glowering at her, he took a step inside her cell. "Why weren't you in the infirmary?"
"Good evening to you, too, sir," Yasmin said with a cheeky smile and a wave, but a quick, stinging slap to the face took care of her smile. It wasn't a hard one; it left her cheek red, but wouldn't bruise. It hurt, but Yasmin recognized it as a warning blow.
"Don't 'good evening' me, girl. I asked you a question."
"Apologies, sir," Yasmin said, sobered. "I thought that was rhetorical, because surely you'd heard, you know, about the ork. The one that tried to kill me, and that then tried to kill me again. In the infirmary."
From the look on his face, he hadn't yet received that news. Yasmin shrugged at his silence. More than likely, he had only heard that a soldier had found her wandering off alone, if that soldier himself hadn't received the news when he'd found her. "I was just trying to protect your assets, sir."
"Oh, don't give me that kaadir shit. The ork tried to kill you again? Tough shit! Maybe if you'd hauled your ass up and finished it when you had the chance, that wouldn't be a fucking problem! But no, instead you let it end in a draw! Are you trying to play the opposite of how I'd bet? I bet on a flawless victory, and you get mauled. I bet on your victory yet again, and it's a pathetic draw? And with help, too! Whoever that crazy man was..."
He must have seen the way Yasmin's eyes widened, because he barked a dry laugh. "What? You thought I'd bet on your defeat?"
"Actually...yes, sir."
Faruq snorted a laugh. "Suppose that's what I get, thinking you're smarter than an ork. You need to wise up, girl, because at the rate you're going, it may be the safer bet. In any case, consider the money I lost today? Subtracted from your funds. Do better next time, because if you become a liability, I will sell you. And you know I'm the best you're going to get."
Yasmin grimaced. In some ways, that was true. Faruq wasn't a kind man. He beat her in his fouler moods, and he only cared for her well-being the same way someone cared about their horse--they kept them maintained and healthy, but would sell them if they underperformed or let them be slaughtered if they were lamed. She was only valuable to him while she was useful. But at the same time, he'd never flogged her or branded her, and he'd never tried to use her for her body. And, as an incentive for her to perform better, he set up a fund for her: a tiny portion of her victories went into it with the promise that, eventually, she would be able to buy back her freedom.
He had enough slaves and enough money that he dangled that carrot in front of his slaves. And it worked; Yasmin certainly found it good motivation. Of course, she also knew that the honest truth was that Faruq figured none of them would live long enough to buy their freedom.
But even knowing that, that slim hope kept her going.
He was better than many masters.
He was better than the master she'd had before him.
"Understood, sir," she answered at length while he glared at her.
"Fucking right it's understood. Now, I sure hope you're comfortable, because after these last few debacles, you're not leaving that cell except to train. You hear? I think I've been too soft on you. Given you too many privileges. You want 'em back? Earn me back my money."
And with that said, he turned and slammed the door shut behind him, and Yasmin was, frankly, surprised that was it. She had expected more yelling, more smacking around. Hrm. Some part of him likely realized this whole situation was partly his fault; he'd shoved her into the arena, injured, to fight the ork. He wasn't kind, but he also wasn't stupid enough to miss his own mistakes, even if he'd never admit them to her.
Yasmin waited until the sounds of footsteps faded, and then, with a sigh, she flopped backwards onto her cot. "Looks like that was it," she muttered, rubbing her cheek. But though it stung, the loss of privileges stung more. Faruq knew the best way to punish her was confinement. "You can come back out."
