Page 44 of Rise of a Fallen Man

As the priestess announced the royal couple as a wife and husband to the cheering crowd, I turned away and made my way back to the gate. I left before the bride kissed the groom because the only kisses I wished to remember were those she’d given to me.

Drawing the hood lower over my face, I made my way across the crowded road outside of the palace, then turned to go back to the gladiators’ quarters.

I walked as fast as the crowd allowed. Even a good distance away from the palace, the roads remained packed. With no chance to glimpse the royal couple or even the palace gates, people still came out. The mood was cheerful. Clapping or shouting, and breaking into a song or even a dance, the city people celebrated along with the royals.

Tired of fighting to move against the stream, I left the road and headed closer to the city wall. Here, the crowd finally thinned. Keeping to the shadows from the wall, I made much better progress following the footpath here.

Eventually, the path turned completely deserted. The crowd remained closer to the palace, with not a soul in my way.

I took the hood off, letting the summer breeze cool my head. My chest remained heavy, with a gaping hole in my heart that I could only hope time would heal.

A strangled cry of terror came from a narrow street up ahead. It was cut off short, as if by a hand placed over the mouth or by a blade pierced through the heart. The voice was high, like that ofa woman or a child, which made my hackles rise and my muscles tense instinctively. I had no weapons on me, but I rushed to the street ahead.

The high, windowless walls of the surrounding buildings came close to each other here, not allowing for sunlight to reach the ground. Groans and sounds of struggle from around the corner spurred me to run faster.

A woman lay on her back on the muddy cobblestones, her clothes torn and smeared with dirt and blood. The man on top of her held a knife in his hand.

“Shut up, you monster,” he gritted through his teeth.

He calledhera monster? Whenhewas the one acting like it?

Blood rushed to my head. Rage jolted me into action, numbing all other senses, including the sense of self-preservation.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I lunged at his back. “Get off her!”

I grabbed the wrist of his hand with the knife, stopping his next blow.

The woman’s eyes met mine over the shoulder of her attacker. They were wide open and filled with horror as he clamped a hand over her mouth.

She was alive, thank Goddess, but terrified nearly to death. Blood smeared her blouse around her neck. Crimson droplets beaded from the scratch on her temple and cheekbone, glistening like rubies against her dark-brown skin.

The man growled like a feral beast when I wrestled his arm back, keeping the knife away from his victim. Letting go of her mouth, he swung a fist at me.

I grabbed his other wrist, blocking his blow. We both rolled off the poor woman. She sat up, gasping for air and pressing her torn clothing to her body.

“Run!” I shouted, needing her to be safe.

Thankfully, she didn’t wait for me to repeat it. Scrambling to her feet, she ran as if demons were chasing her or a true monster was on her heels.

The man bucked under me, trying to throw me off him.

“Monsters...” he mumbled, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth. “They’re all vile. Kill them all before they kill you.”

I shoved down on the hand with the knife. He unclamped his fingers, letting it fall onto the cobblestones. He kicked me, then twisted an arm out of my grip, and punched me in the ribs, knocking the air out of my lungs.

I bent over, gasping for breath.

He shoved me off and tried to gather his legs and feet under him, but I threw my bulk on top of him, pushing him back to the dirty cobblestones.

“Stay,” I growled. “Stay and answer for what you’ve done.”

I rolled him over to his back, seizing his both wrists and pinning his hips to the ground by straddling him. He snarled, trying to get away.

“What the fuck did you do to her?” I yelled, unable to comprehend this man and his actions. “How? Why?”

He eased his struggle, staring at me intently.

“Salas?”

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