At his words Krista twisted against the grip on her arm that was held by her stoic captor. Using the motion of her twist she swung into him and slammed her clenched up left fist directly into his groin. He gave a slight grunt of discomfort, but that was it, which shocked her.
That always worked! He should have been doubled over in pain, but he wasn't!
He quickly grabbed her fist before she could use it again and tightened his hold on her. Having no other recourse she lunged her head forward and sank her teeth into the strong forearm holding her right arm. Suddenly she felt intense pressure on the back of her neck in certain specific spots. Darkness began closing in fast and she half screamed and released her bite trying to escape the pressure squeezing the back of her neck. The grip stayed on her neck and she felt herself going limp, even as she desperately fought against it.
Krista's body slumped unconscious against her captor, who picked her up gently instead of allowing her to fall to the floor. He carried her body to a day bed and laid her down.
The man, who had bought Krista came to stand next to his purchase.
"She has spirit."
"Perhaps too much." Echoed his guardian reservedly.
"Nonsense Rugar! One needs all the spirit one can muster to make a go of it in this life. I only hope for her sake and ours that she has enough spirit for what will be required of her."
"Sir!" One of the servant girls exclaimed.
"Yes, what is it?"
The servant girls had taken Krista's clothes off and she lay there bare as the day she had been born. The servant girl who had spoken had been behind Krista, as they had taken her clothes off. She reached forward and gently pushed Krista over onto her stomach. The other servant women sucked in their breaths collectively at the sight before them. From the top of Krista's shoulders down to the cheeks of her bottom was a lattice work of thin white scars interlacing back and forth across her back that stood out whiter than the already white caste of her skin. The group stared in collective shock for a moment, except for Rugar.
"Young firan cane sprout switches did this. I've seen it before. She must have been a field slave at some point, which means she's a runaway. No slave ever leaves the cane fields for any other reason other than death."
On the back of Krista's left shoulder blade was forever blazed the evidence of her status as a slave. The brand was crude and roughly done. It was in the shape of a nine, but had been branded slightly sideways instead of straight up and down. The edges of the brand were deep and disrupted the smooth skin of Krista's back.