Dragon's Tale 71 (Patreon)

For more than an hour, I lay on my bed, squirming helplessly as the poison rocked in my veins, doing my best to suppress my natural instincts to heal it. 

Technically, I could have faked it, but the healer was sitting on a chair next to me, observing me nervously as he carefully monitored my condition, healing me whenever I was too close to death, and injecting some poison whenever I showed the signs of recovery. Suffering the pain was easier than interfering with every single diagnostic spell he had used.  

Then, I felt a strong magical presence from the corridor, but it was different enough to get my attention. The aura was not weak, not at all. It was enough to challenge a peak mage, which meant either the source was straining themselves to the limit, or I was about to meet another sorcerer. Yet, despite the strength, the mana, for the lack of a better term, was soft, malleable. If ordinary mana was made of steel, this mana was made of soft cotton… 

My healer’s sudden reaction, injecting me another dose of poison hurriedly, was enough to confirm my suspicion. The healer from House Junia was here. 

I reacted in an instant, healing the poison aggressively, but not completely. I wanted to leave some signs of poison, suggesting most of it had been already cleansed, but I completely erased any remaining signs of the berserk potion. 

If the healer discovered the berserk potion, it would trigger a big mess, and as amusing as imagining the patrician house descending on the gladiator school because they dared to lie, it would be very inconvenient for my plans. I neither needed their attention, nor their help. The situation was already complicated enough without throwing another confusing source. 

“Where’s he?” asked an unfamiliar voice, a woman by any indication. Her voice was soft, but carried an expectation to be obeyed. Understandable, as she was most likely a Sorceress, one dedicated to healing. A sorceress, technically. “Bring me to him.” 

Though it wasn’t the only interesting thing about the voice. She also had an accent that I had never heard. 

“Of course,” Antonius answered, his earlier confidence long shattered, replaced by smarmy obedience now that he wasn’t facing a slave or a healer under his command. “My healer is already working on him to keep him alive, and I trust him completely,” he said. “He’s a very good healer, and nothing would happen to the gladiator unless he makes a mistake.”  

The healer understandably flinched as he looked at me with regret, realizing that Antonius never had the intention of forgiving his screw-up in the first place, but threw him under the raging elephant. He raised his hands, healing energy gathering to cure me, but before he could cast a spell, the door opened, revealing a robed figure, surrounded by four armored warriors, each much more tense and alert than I expected, like they were not in Rome, but in a battlefield. 

She was foreign-looking, though not in a way I recognized from first-hand experience. She was short, with black hair and fair skin, but her slanted eyes reminded me of the descriptions of the mysterious lands of Asia. That was the limit of my information, as there was little communication between the Great Lands of Cathay and the Roman Republic, as the route itself was blocked by two great Empires, Persian and Roman. The information trickled down from the trade caravans was limited, little more than legends and myths. 

What an interesting development. 

“Pull back, amateur,” she ordered to the healer, her order supported by a flare of her mana, which, despite the softness, was enough to mark her sorceress identity. The header pulled back in panic, his gaze dancing between the healer and her guards, his face rapidly paling as he realized just how bad his situation was. 

He tried to slink, but Antonius was ready, and grabbed his shoulder, not bothering to hide his vicious smirk. 

Meanwhile, the mysterious sorceress from Cathay pulled a box from her belt, and suddenly, about three dozen silver needles floated over my body. 

It took all my presence to suppress my instinctual reaction, and that was only possible because the energy that was surrounding the needles could only be used for healing. And then, they sank into my body. 

The healing energy easily destroyed any remaining scraps of poison, far quicker than even I could manage, renewing my stamina in the process as well. However, my eyes widened in panic as she easily bypassed the layers I had established to trick her, far more skilled I expected her. Not only I could have replicated that trick, and I doubted any other sorcerer could easily do it. 

Fuck, I thought even as her powers started to explore my body, focusing on my right arm and my heart, in particular, her eyes growing wide to match my reaction. 

Okay, that was the end of my little adventure, I thought even as I started gathering my magic, while her needles pulled away from my body, no doubt to switch to a more aggressive formation. 

I let my eye wander over the targets as I stood up, trying to decide whether taking the sorceress healer, or her guards was the better idea, my mind already on whether I could hide with Theodora, or just running away was the better option. 

Before I could take an action, however, she started to gather her needles, and spoke. “He’s healed, we can leave,” she said with a calmness that surprised me, even as her gaze found mine, as if she was begging for my silence. 

Despite her face, her tone was calm. 

“He’s healed?” Antonius asked, his eyes widening in shock. “Already!’ 

“Yes, he was already mostly cured. Your healer must be even better than you gave him credit for,” she said as she looked at the healer. 

And she wasn’t the only one that looked at him. Antonius looked at him as well, but unlike her, his gaze was tainted with anger. I could easily read his expression, one that promised a lot of pain and suffering. Unfortunately, since he had been trying to poison me to death moments ago, I wasn’t feeling merciful enough to explain there wasn’t a great betrayal that screwed up his plan. 

However, he didn’t keep his gaze on his healer for long, and turned her gaze to the healer sorceress. “Maybe we should make sure he’s well enough to move,“ Antonius said as he walked toward the healer. “I want to make sure his long-term health is not in jeopardy. 

As he walked, he subtly managed to raise his arm, which, incidentally, revealed a very big money pouch. The implication was clear, that she would receive a big payday if she played along. 

“He’s fine, let’s go,” she said, giving him no place to argue, and at this point, Antonius lacked the angle to argue against. One of the guards grabbed my arm and pulled me up. 

Antonius ordered the servants to bring me new clothes, realizing that, at this point, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. His plan was in shambles. 

Pity I wasn’t in a mood to enjoy his despair. Even as I dressed quickly, I observed the foreign sorceress, trying to understand why she was keeping her mouth shut despite knowing my hidden abilities. Still, I played along, because, even if the worst came to worst, attacking them on the forests between the patrician estate and Rome. 

It was much easier than trying to escape from the fortified capital. 

I followed them, thinking the escape would be trivial, only to stall when I realized they were leading me to a carriage covered with wards. That stopped me, because even with a glance, it was clear that those wards were not there for protection, but imprisonment. 

They had come more prepared than I expected, preparing myself to an explosive last stand. Entering a mobile prison was a worse bet than trying to escape from a fortified city. At least, in the city, the crowds would help me hide. 

Once again, before I could act, another surprise waited for me. One of the guards poked the shoulder of the healer. “Go into your cart, lady,” he said tensely. That made me realize that I had missed one very important detail in my panic. While we walked, the guards were not observing me, but the healer. 

And not because they wanted to make sure nothing had happened to her. 

She passed next to me on her way to the carriage, but not before leaving a soft whisper. “Find me tonight, heretic,” she whispered. She didn’t risk adding anything else, clearly trying to avoid the attention of the guards. 

She didn’t need to. Her status as a prisoner — or a slave — along with the fact that she kept my secret — was enough to convey the deal. She wanted my help. Interesting, but not as interesting as the fact that, apparently, she was a prisoner. 

It was daring to keep a sorceress prisoner, and it was even daring to actually use her as a servant, sent to work.  

Ultimately, I didn’t spend too much time thinking about that, because ultimately, I could just ask her how she was being kept as a prisoner despite her power. Not because I was curious, because I had no other option. She didn’t even need to threaten me with violence, or try to implement a dangerous spell while trying to heal me to force my compliance. 

I wished that was her leverage. That, I could resolve easily. 

All she needed to do was to reveal that I was a mage, and things would be over. Still, making a deal with her was just tempting enough to make escaping the less palatable choice despite the unknown. 

Helpless, I joined the guards as we walked away, wondering why she called me a heretic.