33 Two Brothers

Chinua arrived at the bustling village market, dismounting her horse with a fluid grace. Holding the rope loosely in her right hand, she walked slowly beside the horse, her eyes scanning the vibrant chaos around her. The market was far more alive at night than it had been that morning, a swirling throng of people, sounds, and smells. She couldn't quite recall the exact spot where she had seen the brutally beaten man, so she navigated the winding paths, her gaze fixed on every post, every shadowed corner, searching. Just as despair began to creep in, a hand, cold and clammy, clamped onto her ankle.

Chinua looked down, her heart lurching. A blood-soaked hand, barely distinguishable in the dim light, was clutching her. She tried to pull her foot away, but the grip, surprisingly strong, tightened.

"I'm not dead," a raspy moan came from the ground. "I can smell you."

Chinua knelt, carefully helping the man sit up, guiding him to lean against the rough wood of a pillar. "I admire you greatly," she said, her voice filled with genuine awe. "To still speak after such injuries. What is your name?"

"Jeet…" The man panted, each breath a struggle.

"I was told I can't buy slaves here," Chinua confessed, her brow furrowing. "I'm not sure how I'm going to free you. Perhaps we'll have to fight our way out."

Jeet looked up at Chinua, a faint, almost ethereal smile on his battered face. He couldn't see her features clearly through the haze of pain and blood, but he felt a warm, reassuring light radiating from her.

Chinua studied Jeet. His long, dark curly hair fell past his shoulders. His complexion was deep, his frame muscular, and his body was a roadmap of old and new scars, a testament to a brutal life. "Sell me your life," she urged, her voice firm, unwavering. "And I will do everything in my power to free you."

Jeet looked up, his eyes half-closed. He thought that even if he broke the merchant's shackles, his hands would only be bound by the new master's chains. There was no point in selling his life, not to this person, not to anyone. "Why should I?" he asked weakly, a bitter cough racking his frame, spitting a fresh gout of blood. "With you or them, these shackles will never leave my hands and feet. So, why should I?"

"Sell me your life," Chinua repeated, her voice resonating with conviction. "I promise, as long as I am still alive, no one will dare to put shackles on you again."

Jeet's eyes flickered open, a new spark within them. "If you can save my brother," Jeet rasped, pointing a shaky finger towards a cage not far from where he lay, "we'll sell you, our lives."

Chinua looked back. The merchant had a formidable number of guards surrounding his collection of human property. If she tried to free the two brothers now, they'd be quickly overwhelmed by the traders. She took a deep breath, steeling herself, then rose and walked deliberately towards the group of men.

"Can I help you, young man?" the merchant asked, a smug smile on his face.

Chinua's eyes darted to the man's waist, where a keychain dangled, six keys glinting in the dim light. "I just want to know where and how much you're going to sell your slaves for," she said, feigning casual interest.

"We're heading to the border," the merchant boasted, rising to his full height. "If you want to buy my slaves, you'll have to cross into Tanggolia." He looked Chinua up and down, his smirk widening. "Young man, I don't think you can afford my slaves. Every one of them is expensive."

"No, I don't think I can afford them," Chinua said, turning away, her shoulders slumping in a feigned act of defeat. She took a deep, deliberate breath, then slowly let it out, a silent apology whispered to herself. "Forgive me, Mönkhbat."

In a flash, Chinua spun back around, pulling the ribbon from her hair. Her medium-length hair cascaded over her shoulders. With a practiced swiftness, she seized the merchant's hand and, before he could react, placed his palm firmly on her left breast.

"HELP!" Chinua shrieked, her voice cutting through the market noise, raw with manufactured terror.

Her piercing scream immediately drew the attention of everyone in the vicinity. One man, enraged, rushed forward, yelling at the merchant, "It's broad daylight, and you dare to attack this young woman!"

"What…?" The merchant stared at Chinua, bewildered, his mouth agape.

"HELP!" Chinua screamed again, her voice cracking. "He said he would rape every Magoli woman he saw!" As the enraged crowd began to surge closer, Chinua swiftly snatched the key ring from the merchant's waist.

"It must be a misunderstanding!" the merchant stammered, his face paling. "I've never seen that person before! I thought she was a man!"

But it was too late. The people began to yell and curse at the merchant and his men, drawing even more attention from the growing crowd in the market.

Chinua dashed to the nearest cage, fumbling with the keys. She inserted them one at a time, her fingers trembling with urgency, but none would turn the lock. Finally, with the fifth key, it clicked open. She yanked Naksh out of the cage just as a man roared.

"She's freeing the slaves!" one of the merchant's men shrieked, pointing a trembling finger at Chinua, who was now dragging Naksh from the small enclosure.

The merchant and his men struggled, trying to force their way through the furious crowd that had surrounded them.

Chinua saw the merchant and his men almost pushed through the crowd. She quickly undid the shackles on Jeet's right foot. Grabbing the whip from beside Jeet, she tied it to a nearby cart, then to the horse's bridle. Just then, the merchant and his men broke free from the surrounding mob, drawing their swords and charging towards Chinua and the two brothers.

Naksh helped Jeet to his feet, his own expression grim.

"Go!" Chinua yelled, pushing them forward.

Naksh began to move, supporting Jeet. Chinua snatched up the whip and brought it down hard on the horse's buttocks. The horse shrieked in pain, bolting forward, dragging the cart, and crashing into the fleeing crowd. Chinua quickly ran to join Jeet and Naksh.

Neither Chinua nor Naksh knew their way around the village, but they weaved and zigzagged through the maze of houses. After some time, they found themselves, disorientingly, back in the market. Chinua and Naksh exchanged a glance, about to flee again, when one of the merchant's men spotted them.

"Over there!" he shouted, pointing a frantic finger at Chinua, Jeet, and Naksh.

"I'm afraid we'll have to fight our way out of here," Chinua said, her stance resolute.

Naksh spat on the ground, a feral grin spreading across his face. "A whole bunch of ants. I'm not afraid of them." He cracked his knuckles. "Do you have a spare blade?" Chinua pulled out a small dagger and handed it to Naksh. She lifted her boots, drawing her long knife. Naksh looked at her. "Can I have that knife too?" Chinua handed him the second knife. "Will you look after my brother for me?"

"Alright," Chinua agreed, her eyes fixed on the approaching figures.

Naksh turned to face the charging men, twisting his neck with a smirk. "I'm going to take my time with this sweet revenge."

The first man swung his sword at Naksh. Naksh shifted his body to the left, a blur of motion, simultaneously stabbing the man in the wrist with the knife in his left hand. The man screamed in agony, his sword clattering to the ground. Naksh then used his right foot to kick the fallen sword back towards Chinua and Jeet. Chinua swiftly picked it up.

Another man charged at Naksh, sword raised, but Naksh swiftly flipped the knife in his left hand, stabbing the man in the forearm, then, with ruthless efficiency, slit his throat. More men rushed forward, trying to overwhelm Naksh, but he moved with a brutal, practiced grace, stabbing them to death one by one.

Chinua watched, a grim fascination, as Naksh mercilessly dispatched the merchant's men who tried to capture him. Suddenly, Jeet shoved Chinua violently to the left. Chinua, reacting instantly, pushed Jeet to the ground and swung the sword she'd just acquired, parrying a blow that would have cut them both. She brought the hilt of her sword crashing into the attacker's face, knocking him to the ground.

The merchant stood a few feet away from Chinua, panting, his eyes wide with disbelief and fury. "You dare to snatch my slaves in front of me? Do you know that these two people are going to be sent to the Xin family?!"

"In Hmagol," Chinua declared, her voice cold and clear, "we only fear the Mongke."

"Take those dogs back and capture that woman!" the merchant shrieked, his face contorted in rage.

Three men rushed forward, launching a coordinated attack on Chinua. Chinua quickly realized her combat effectiveness was not as high as she'd imagined. She had experience in one-on-one combat, but fighting multiple opponents was a different beast. She was forced onto the defensive, unable to attack as freely as she desired.

"Go over and take that dog down!" the merchant roared at others.

Naksh, a whirlwind of fury, grabbed one of the men and began stabbing him violently in the chest, a chilling smile on his blood-splattered face. "If you dare to come," he snarled at the men who were about to join the fight from the other end of the market, "you will die." He dropped the dead man, then rushed over, kicking one of the men fighting Chinua with brutal force.

The remaining men slowly backed away, retreating to the merchant's side, their eyes wide with fear as they stared at Chinua and Naksh.

Chinua looked at Naksh, now covered in blood. "You certainly can fight well," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice. "You fight better than those men."

Naksh snorted, a bitter laugh escaping him. "If these bastards hadn't starved me for days, I could have fought much better than this." He looked at Jeet, who was still sitting on the ground. "Hey, are you dead?"

Jeet, despite his injuries, let out a roaring laugh. "I'm waiting for you to die first!"

Naksh chuckled. "That's the spirit!"

The merchant stared frantically at Chinua, Naksh, and Jeet, his face twitching with barely controlled rage. "I want them dead!" he gritted through clenched teeth.

"Boss," one of his men said, his voice trembling, "we seem to have received a report that soldiers are rushing over."

Just then, Taban walked in, flanked by several armed soldiers. "It's you again," he said, his voice flat, looking at the merchant with disdain. "Though I told you never to show your face again, you still keep coming back."

"Captain Taban," the merchant said, his tone suddenly conciliatory, "don't say that. Last time, I gave you what you wanted."

Taban's gaze drifted to Jeet, who sat motionless on the ground. "Are you still torturing people?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm.

The merchant chuckled nervously. "No… I don't know that person sitting there."

Taban sneered. "Really?" He turned to look at Chinua, then back at the merchant, his eyes hard. "Many villagers have reported that you molested a Hmagoli woman in the market. So, what are you going to say about this allegation?"

Chinua stepped forward, her expression serious. "Captain Taban, this is a misunderstanding." She looked pointedly at the merchant.

"Yes, a misunderstanding!" the merchant eagerly agreed, seizing the lifeline.

"It's him," Chinua said, pointing directly at Naksh. "He's the one who harassed me."

"Yes, it's him!" the merchant immediately echoed, relieved.

Taban surveyed the scene, then sighed. "Tell your men to clean this up, and I'll let it go this time. Remember, no more next time."

"Yes!" the merchant practically shouted, and he and his men quickly scurried away.

Chinua looked at Taban, a genuine gratitude in her eyes. "Captain, thank you."

"If General Mönkhbat knew you were buying slaves, he wouldn't treat you well," Taban said, his voice stern, though a hint of amusement played in his eyes. He began to walk away. "If you want to find a place for those two, come with me."

Chinua and Naksh supported Jeet between them, and together, they began to follow Taban towards his house.