13.Hiding
He takes another sip and the stupor engulfs me, pulling me in along with my tormentor. Fighting for dominance I order the slaves remove themselves from my sight.
They leave me.
The Jaffa avoid my eyes. Even they are frightened.
With studied indifference I order the bodies disposed of and the tortured returned to their cells.
All except one.
There is blood on his face. The bruises are stark on his white skin. His eyes search mine and the moment comes.
The moment when he realises who is in control.
I order him beaten.
I must not show my hand.
I watch.