The Testament of Lukar

Chapter Thirteen

Keelan's footsteps were barely audible in the quiet night as she approached Lukar, who was seated near the slave quarters, his fingers turning the amulet over and over in his hands. Her voice, soft and concerned, reached his ears.

"I heard about what happened. Are you okay, Lukar?" Keelan asked, her eyes reflecting genuine worry.

Lukar looked up, offering a small, appreciative smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just wish Lord Nadik would keep me out of their family affairs."

Keelan took a seat beside him, the cool night air carrying a hint of camaraderie. "I get that. It's like they're weaving a complicated tapestry, and we're caught in the threads."

Lukar nodded in agreement. "Exactly. I just want to be left out of it."

Adan, ever the inquisitive one, joined the conversation. "What brings you here, Keelan?"

She grinned mischievously, her eyes darting towards Petro, who was at a distance. "I'm here for Petro. Thought we could take a walk."

Adan and Lukar exchanged playful glances, their eyebrows wiggling in unison. Adan teased, "A walk, huh? More like a moonlit rendezvous."

Petro, hearing the banter, grumbled, "You boys have overactive imaginations. It's just a walk."

Keelan chuckled, standing up. "Well, a moonlit walk sounds perfect to me. See you both later."

As Petro and Keelan strolled away into the night, Lukar and Adan couldn't help but share a knowing look. The farm, with its complexities and relationships, seemed to come alive in the shadows of the moonlit night.

The night is calm, the air filled with a quiet tension. Lukar continues to examine the amulet, tracing the delicate patterns with his fingers. The silver surface gleams in the moonlight.

Adan, always the curious one, nudged Lukar playfully. "So, what's the deal with the shiny trinket? Lord Nadik deciding to become a generous gift-giver?"

Lukar sighed, glancing at the amulet. "Yeah, something like that. Gave it to me and then Averik thought I stole it. Now, I'm walking around with a family heirloom, apparently."

Adan whistled lowly. "Complicated family dynamics, my friend. The farm isn't just about wheat and plows; it's got its own dramatics."

Thomas, who had approached quietly, grunted in agreement. "Gifts are not always what they seem, Lukar. Sometimes they're chains in disguise."

Lukar nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Guess so, Thomas. Just wish it was simpler."

The trio sat together, the night enfolding them in its quiet embrace. Lukar shared a few stories of his childhood before the farm, Adan threw in some humorous anecdotes, and Thomas, in his gruff way, spoke of lessons learned the hard way.

As laughter echoed under the moonlit sky, Lukar gently tucked the amulet back under his shirt. The silver trinket rested against his chest, a silent witness to the stories of the farm, where every gift seemed to carry more weight than met the eye. The stars overhead watched over them, their distant glow a reminder that, in the vast expanse of the night, each story mattered.

The following day Lukar wiped the sweat from his brow, the weight of the wheat bundles taking its toll. Petro and Adan worked alongside him, their hands calloused from years of toil in the fields. The sun beat down on the farm, casting long shadows as the trio gathered the wheat harvest.

As they stacked the bundles, a mishap occurred nearby. A fellow slave stumbled, the wheat bundle slipping from his grasp and spilling across the ground. The overseer's sharp reprimand echoed across the field, and the slave hurriedly apologized, darting away to fetch another bundle.