We rushed out of the building, following the crowd. We got closer to the scene. There was gasping and muttering and cold screams from most ladies.
“What’s going on?” I said, as we tried to push through the crowds to get to the front of the scene. We got there and saw a female slave weeping. It was Lily. She was kneeling on the floor and crying. Her blonde hair was scattered all over her shoulders and her hands were packing sand and throwing it back to the ground continuously.
“He was just like a father to me, he treated me like his own daughter. He said he was too old to fight at the tournament and that he rather died now than fight with pairs that he is no match for,” Lily said.
I looked up and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was the very old man that I met when I first came into the Sa
