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Chapter 22

Time went by, the months turning into years, as the humans continued their existence as a food source to the elves. Only a few things changed in their lives.

Zahra now went up for her platoon every time they were due, no longer needing the rest breaks that she had initially needed. It was also pointed out to her that the scars on her back were healing so fast and so well that, by the start of their rest time, her body looked like it had never been struck. Except for the scar over her heart. For some reason that never healed, though. Nor did Valna'a's. However, it did mean that she did not need to have the skin peeled off her back any more.

While the soldiers from Cestus IV did not take any more casualties, they became sure that other prisoners were dying, and the number of slaves picked every day slowly went up. Initially the additions were taken from the group of senior officers and officials, the elves deciding it was time they earned their rations. Then it was a second person from each platoon.

Sergeant Mantle took over that role, as often as he could, with the other NCOs relieving him as needed.

One day, when Zahra was working in the palace, the two girls were walking back to their quarters, from the gym, while chatting. Valna'a was talking about the time her brother had embarrassed himself, and their father, at a gladiatorial match by being physically sick when one fighter had disembowelled his opponent. It turned out that he was genuinely sick, but the timing couldn't have been worse and enough people had seen him apparently throw up at the gore that he had been a laughing stock for months afterwards.

She was just demonstrating the look on her father’s face, much to Zahra's amusement, when they heard a snarl from behind them. Engrossed in their own little world the two had not noticed Korsephan had come up behind them.

"Your pet has laughed at me, Valna'a, in public." Sneered the prince.

"You know that's a death penalty!"

The laughter stopped immediately. This was a dangerous situation. Korsephan had them over the proverbial barrel. Technically, he had the right to have a slave executed for mocking him publicly. However, the soul bonding complicated the situation, as it would mean Valna'a's death as well.

Korsephan had been waiting for such an opportunity for years and had researched Clan Law and Customs regarding such a situation. If he ordered Zahra's execution Valna'a was entitled to take it to arbitration, where there was a good chance the execution would be overruled in favour of a horrific but non-fatal punishment. There was, however, a loophole that he had identified.

"I'll give it a chance." Glee obvious in his voice. "If you accept my challenge.”

“What challenge?” Asked Valna’a.

“Combat in the arena. I win and you two belong to me. You win and you both go free. Though the terms have changed slightly. Now it’s two against two. You two versus myself, and a partner of my choosing. Bask'Il rules. You win you both go free. You lose and the two of you are mine for the rest of your miserable lives."

About to speak, Zahra realised her place and looked to Valna'a for permission.

"Thank you, Mistress." She replied to Valna'a's nod.

"Your highness. May we make a counter offer? We win and you release all of the people from my world, including me, and return us to our world. You also allow Valna'a to come with us."

"Why would I agree to that, Cattle?" Deliberately trying to be offensive.

"First: How does it matter what we ask for? You are not expecting us to stand a chance.

"Second. You have some doubt over ordering my death; otherwise, you would have done so by now. Whereas killing us, in combat, in the arena, would, I assume, give our deaths a legitimacy that killing me out of hand would seem to be lacking. "

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Caught a bit off guard by Zahra's insight into his problem Korsephan was a bit confused as to what he should now do. He could have the human beaten, which would deeply upset his sister and leave it at that. However, what he wanted was to have the two of them as his playthings. Something a duel in the arena would allow.

The thought of his sister grovelling at his feet while he tortured her lover had been such an obsession for him for so long that he wasn't thinking straight. In his minds eye he had already forced the two of them to surrender and serve him, and as with any such daydream nothing was going to able to stop him.

"Are those your terms, Valna'a."

"Yes, Korsephan." Valna'a was obviously upset, and rightly so. The chances of the two of them being able to beat two elves was practically zero, but it was their only chance.

Holding up his comms to show the conversation was being recorded.

"Three days from now we meet in the arena. It will be two one on one fights followed by the winners facing off, if necessary. Victory in each fight will be by either death or submission. Agree?"

"Until then no harm is to befall either Zahra or me."

"Sounds fair." Korsephan had been planning on injuring the human during the time, but he wasn't going to risk his sister backing out now he had his victory. After all a healthy human still couldn't be expected to hold their own against a person.

"I agree to the terms we have come up with."

"Enjoy your last week as a free person. You will be known as 03AAA0001, when this is done."

Then to his comms device. "Publish it. And prepare your weapons."

With that he practically danced away on what ever errand had brought him to this corridor at that time.

Valna'a rushed to her rooms, dragging Zahra with her, where she burst into tears and all but collapsed into her lover's arms.

Knowing that they were in a very bad situation and that there was nothing she could say that would help Zahra carried her partner to their bed before laying her down and cuddling up to her. In the grand scheme of things it wasn't much, but she hoped that it was something.

Once the princess had calmed down Zahra got her to explain the situation.

"If either of us dies in the arena, we both die. You know that, right?"

"Yes, hun."

"If we both conceded defeat, without dying, then we will be his slaves to do with as he wants. And he is a really nasty creature."

"Ok, so we can't concede."

"Conceding also includes being so incapacitated you cannot continue. Such as being unconscious, or unable to stand. In both cases the victor can still kill the loser, but can accept their surrender. Especially if terms have been agreed upon in such a situation."

"Like this?"

"Like this."

The Rules of Bask'Il dictate the type of combat. It will be melee, in light armour with one handed weapons. We get a primary and either a dagger or a small shield. The primary is pretty much up to you, as long as it's one handed.

"The light armour will be body, shoulder arms and front of legs coverage. No helmet, elbow or knee armour. I will sort something out for us. And a quick training session.

The humans gathered back in their cell and immediately began comparing notes on the dates. All of them were sure they had been returned early, and should have had at least five days left.

They were even more surprised at the large viewing screens that had been set up, replacing the torture devices along the long wall.

But to top it off was the addition of extra people being brought into the cell. Introductions exposed them as also being from Cestus IV, but from raids before the military built the first fort. Their number was depressingly small compared to the number who had been taken. Just under a third of them surviving this long. Many of them showed signs of being in the current feeding cycle or have having sustained massive injuries in their time here.

Then came the most horrific addition. Some of their own missing, those presumed to have died already, were brought back in. Some of them looked like they had not had too bad a time, but most looked appalling. Even Peterson and Xi returned, though they somehow managed to look worse than when they had when they were last seen. Joints so badly mangled they were unable to walk the two were forced to drag themselves into the cell where they were mobbed for their stories.

It turned out this last batch of inmates came from two fates. Those an elf had taken a liking to and had bought from the state as a pet. These were generally well looked after as judged by their appearances and clothes. The others were the ones taken away for medical use. Some were used for training new healers - injured then healed time and time again, with differing rates of success. Others were used for experimentation - what organs they could survive without, what additional devices they could have installed in their bodies, or for testing new medicines.

On the day of the fight the screen was turned on and the humans got to see their champions fight for their lives in the arena.