Slave Trade - Unexpected
Unexpected copyright 2011 comidacomida
Though it was obvious that Maern didn't understand Sidney's sudden interest in haste, the horse nonetheless dropped everything and followed the fox out of the stables and across the estate. The fox turned and motioned to Maern, "Stay here." he pointed at the ground outside the tanner's front porch and made his way into the building.
"Well... you're here... mostly on time." Gaius announced, reaching behind his work bench to collect a folded harness, "Are you going to have him come in to try it on? Fitting doesn't take that long."
Sidney glanced to the porcupine then out the door then to the porcupine again, "Oh... sure... that's a good idea." he turned to the door again, "Maern!' The horse peeked in through the door, ears up, blue eyes focused on the fox, "Come here." he motioned to himself and the large slave obediently complied, moving over to stand right next to him. Sidney looked back to the porcupine, "Here he is."
Gaius looked the horse up and down, "This should be a close fit." he announced, coming around the work bench to approach the slave,"Probably just one or two adjustments should be fine."
"Alright." Sidney nodded, glancing out the open door, "I just don't want to be late."
"Layt." Maern sounded out.
"We DON'T want to be late." the fox corrected.
"DON Twand dubee layt." the horse scrunched his mouth up as he tried to words.
"Close enough." the porcupine interrupted flatly as he grabbed hold of Maern's wrist and moved to raise the horse's arm. He gave a start, almost stumbling as the appendage moved no easier than a fallen tree trunk. "Sidney... " he looked to the fox, "Do you mind?"
"Oh... sorry, Sir. Of course." Sidney acknowledged, "Maern..." he announced to the horse, and rose his own arm. It took the slave only a moment to understand what the fox wanted, and Gaius, who still had a hold of Maern's wrist, was almost picked up off the ground before he let go.
"Curse the Maker!" the porcupine exclaimed in surprise, then regained his composure, "This one's a lot of trouble..." and he began latching the leather harness to the rope holding the horse's loincloth up. Sidney observed from the side until the leather worker spoke up, "Sidney... this slave is going to need a belt if he's going to have a proper harness."
It was a small enough issue and, despite how much the fox didn't want to be bothered by it, the comment left him reeling, "I..." Sidney paused, "He doesn't have a belt." his paws began to shake; Sidney was already worried enough about the upcoming event that the last thing he needed was the added stress of showing up without Maern being suitably equipped.
"Don't worry about it." the porcupine noted calmly, "I have one that should fit him just fine." He went back to his work bench then glanced over his shoulder at Sidney, "Sit down, Sidney... you look like you're going to fall over."
"I've never been in charge of a gladiator before." the fox noted, taking a seat on the floor, fingers going to his muzzle as he began to absently chew on his claws. He looked up at the porcupine when he realized he was being addressed
"There's a chair right over there, Sidney." Gaius repeated, motioning with his snout to a small wicker chair. He pulled a large leather belt out of one of the drawers in his work bench.
The fox stood and moved to the indicated chair, "In a few minutes I have to present Maern to Lord Hector." the Slave Master continued mumbling to himself, fighting to keep the growing fear in check; if he couldn't get something as simple as equipping Maern right, what hope did he have of becoming a Slave Master Lord Hector could be proud of? "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do." he spoke aloud.
"Well," Gaius announced simply, sliding the belt around the horse's waist, "First, you can stop mewling like a little kit."
Sidney froze immediately; he hadn't really meant to voice his concerns aloud and the leather worker's comment brought him out of his stress-induced trance. "Sorry, Sir." he mumbled, feeling his entire body flush in embarrassment, "I just meant--"
"You're in over your head." Gaius finished for him, latching the belt in place and removing the rope from Maern's waist, "You've had this slave for what... two days now?"
"The better part of three, Sir." Sidney confirmed.
The leather worker attached the front portion of Maern's harness. "And you're only now just realizing you're a little out of your element?" the porcupine inquired. The comment was without blame or reproach; Gaius spoke it as casually as he did when discussing different kinds of stitching.
"I'm worried about his safety." the fox admitted.
"Then you're not a very good Slave Master." Gaius announced, walking around Maern to affix the harness in the back, "At least, not as far as gladiators are concerned."
The fox lifted his head and cocked it to the side, one ear up, the other out, "What do you mean, Sir?"
"Slave Masters of gladiator stables are some of the most ruthless taskmasters out there." the porcupine noted, reaching back behind himself to snap a quill free, and he used it to pin up a loose section of leather on the harness, "You care too much to be a Slave Master."
"So..." the fox fidgeted, "I should care... less?"
"Hells no, boy." Gaius announced emphatically, breaking off another quill to pin up another section of harness, "Just because you're a bad Slave Master doesn't mean you can't be good at being a Slave Master."
"I..." the fox stared blankly, "...don't understand."
"A Slave Master is responsible for looking after the slaves under his control." the porcupine glanced at Sidney as he placed another quill to adjust the hold of the harness, "Do you do that?"
"Yes, sir." Sidney acknowledged, folding his paws in his lap attentively.
"And you're expected to make certain your slaves behave." Gaius continued, pausing to pull a new quill free.
"I haven't done so well at that part." the fox admitted, blushing again.
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." the porcupine noted, staring at Maern, who stared back disinterestedly, "Well?" the leather worker demanded of the horse, "Lower your arm. Deeault ut brak." he demanded.
"Iya." Maern acknowledged and lowered his arm.
"He's obedient." Gaius announced, getting a step stool to get a better vantage of where the harness passed over the horse's shoulder, "He just needs to learn what's expected of him... that, and he needs to learn Prossian... Prossian would help a lot." the leather worker tightened down a buckle and stepped back down, "Besides... you have something the rest of the Slave Masters don't."
"What's that, Sir?" the fox asked, surprised at the strange combination of damning and complimenting coming from the porcupine.
"You have some empathy." Gais explained, "I don't think Lord Hector is too far off his mark with you." the leather worker chuckled, "He's a good man, and he seems to like being surrounded by the same." he tightened another strap, "Fear only generates loyalty for so long... but with the right mix of inspiration and charisma you can do a lot better."
"Slaves are loyal because they're slaves." Sidney blinked, "What does inspiration--"
"Slaves are people, no matter what anyone says, Sidney." Gaius interrupted him, "And treating the more like people gets better results."
"That isn't how things are done in Pross, Sir." the fox retorted.
"I may be Tenvierian, but that doesn't mean that what's true there isn't true here too." the porcupine wagged a quill condescendingly at the fox.
"But saying things like that won't get you wipped in Tenvier, Sir." Sidney pointed out.
"Oh?" Gaius chuckled, sliding the large quill through a section of leather halter and through the belt around Maern's waist, "I suppose if YOU say it, yes... but I'm not a slave so I can say whatever I like." he took a step back and cocked his head one way and the other, looking over his handiwork, "There... that should--" his words stalled when the manor's bell rang out.
"Oh hells!" Sidney jumped up from the chair. Maern's attention went immediately to him. "Maern! We can't be late!" and, with that, the fox took off like a shot, racing out the door. He didn't need to look back to know Maern was following him; the sound of the horse's thunderous hoof-beats was more than enough. Somewhere behind them, Sidney heard Gaius complaining about not finishing the fitting, but the fox was more concerned with Lord Hector's orders.
Sidney arrived at the appointed site completely out of breath, wheezing and gasping as he leaned against a simple wooden post. After spending a good minute regaining what little composure he had, the fox realized that the post was a new addition to the field. Looking around, Sidney saw seven more just like it. The ring they created was a near-perfect circle and the ground within it had been cleaned of grass, leaving only smooth soil behind.
"Ah, Sidney..." Lord Hector called. The stag's voice was a ray of sun cutting through the dark clouds in the fox's mind. The silver-furred noble strolled casually over toward the Slave Master and his charge, "I see you're right on time," he smiled pleasantly, "This should be an excellent test of Maern's abilities." and, with that single comment, the clouds returned full force.
"Yes, Master." Sidney lowered his head, "As you say."
"Maern," the stag addressed the horse.
"Iya, Lord Hek-ter." Sidney was surprised to see Maern bow. It was nothing as formal or as courtly as the fox had seen from the nobility of the land, but there was a simple functionality to the movement; Maern, with his arms at his sides, simply leaned forward slightly, dipping his head.
The stag spoke and the horse listened. Sidney had absolutely no idea what they were saying, but watched attentively as his Master motioned to the circle, apparently explaining what was going to happen. The fox felt more than a little jealous that Maern received an explanation but Sidney had none. He would never challenge Lord Hector's view on who was to know what, but Sidney was curious as to what his part would be in the events to come.
"Ya look like somethin' bit yer tail, mate." the good humored greeting was hardly subtle.
Sidney turned to look at Fineas, who was standing right beside him on the other side of the post, "What are they talking about?"
The mouse shrugged, "I don't speak Vensian. Meisenylian, yea... Prossian, yea...Tenvierian, a little... but Vensian? Nah."
The fox glanced back at Lord Hector, who was leading Maern into the center of the cleared ring, then back to Fineas, hoping to distract himself from what he knew was to come, "You know that many languages?"
"Yea." the mouse leaned against the post next to Sidney, "Probably th' reason why Lord Hector picked me up from the slavers... most Lords and Ladies don't care much fer slaves that know stuff."
"How did you learn all that?" the fox asked.
"Ah knew it 'fore the slavers got me." Fineas shrugged, "My Da worked as a diplomat... spent a lot a time 'tween th' kingdoms."
"Wow..." Sidney murmured.
"Yea..." Fineas nodded thoughtfully, "nice life, 'til Da caused a big problem... got caught bein' too friendly t'one a the king's daughters."
"Oh..." the fox paused, "That's bad."
"Real bad." Finneas acknowledged, "Threw Da inta th' dungeons an' tossed me and Ma onta th' slave block."
"That's horrible..." Sidney murmured.
The mouse simply shrugged in response, "Eh... almost forty years back... not worth worryin' about now... it'sa different life." and the gray-muzzled mouse glanced back to Lord Hector, and Maern. An ox had arrived and, at the stag's insistence, was presenting a bundle of wooden weapons to the horse. Lord Hector motioned to them and explained something in Vensian. "Hmm... wonder what yer 'orse's weapon a choice is..."
Sidney said nothing, simply staring at the horse and the weapons. The fox almost melted into a relieved pool of feeble fur at the sight: wooden weapons; wooden weapons meant it wasn't going to be deadly. "Koss." the single word as spoken by Maern suddenly made Sidney's fur stand on end. The fox didn't know the Vensian word for 'no' before that moment, but the tone with which the horse had stated it left absolutely no doubt in his mind as to its translation.
"Bora." Lord Hector replied casually and waved the ox away. The stag turned to Sidney, "Sidney... your slave has elected not to accept a weapon." The confirmation caused the fox to wilt, but his master's next words were even more concerning, "Finneas... fetch Wragol and his hopefuls."
"Aye, Master." the mouse confirmed, and he hobbled off toward the other side of the manor.
"He's healing nicely." Lord Hector noted.
"Yes, Master." Sidney acknowledged, looking off after Finneas, "He isn't using a cane anymore."
"I was referring to Maern." the stag spoke.
"I'm sorry, Master." Sidney went to drop to his knees immediately, but latched his paw onto the post and he remained standing; Lord Hector had told him that Slave Masters don't grovel. He slowly turned to face the stag, but he kept his eyes down toward the ground in deference, "I have been tending his wounds, Master."
"You are a much better healer than you give yourself credit for, Sidney." the stag ran his hand across bandages on Maern's back. The stallion remained facing forward, making no acknowledgement that knew of nor cared about the contact.
"Thank you, Master." Sidney bowed his head, "You ordered that I tend to him, and so it was done."
"Your slave doesn't want to fight, Sidney." Lord Hector announced with the same neutral tone as he had commented on the healing; the stag removed his hand from Maern's back.
Sidney looked up in surprise, meeting the gaze of the stag, and quickly averted his eyes, "You commanded that he fight, Master... so he must fight."
"I did not command him to fight, Sidney." Lord Hector announced. The comment surprised Sidney enough for his ears to raise, but not enough for him to break his gaze on the stag's left hoof. Silence passed between the two for several seconds, "That is your job."
If Sidney's ears could raise any further they would have, and that comment was enough to force the fox's eyes to break their hold on his master's hoof and transfer instead to the steely, unreadable expression on the horse's face. Maern gazed right back, fierce blue eyes boring a hole right into him with their intent stare.
"Most slaves, if given the opportunity to become gladiators gladly accept." Lord Hector moved to wooden arm chair brought out by two house slaves and he took a seat, "If a gladiator does well enough in the pit for a long enough period of time then a contract is drawn up by Lord Levid, the ruling noble in this province, and they join his army as indentured servants." He glanced to the still stunned fox, "Do you understand?"
"I do not, Lord Hector." Sidney admitted, still looking at Maern.
"Gladiators can win their freedom from slavery." the stag spoke simply, "I know you may not be familiar with this because I have not made it a habit to have any gladiators among my slaves..." Lord Hector rubbed one of the arm rests, "Personally I find it distasteful... but, considering recent developments, my position has had to change."
"I'm sorry, Master." Sidney apologized; he realized just what the stag was getting at. If the fox hadn't purchased Maern then--
"No, Sidney... this goes beyond anything you've done that you should apologize for. Your mistake, actually, was rather convenient." The fox's eyes trailed back to the stag, who was looking at the stallion, "I've had Wragol working for the past month on finding anyone among the field workers who might be suitable as a gladiator. He's found three possible slaves, and Maern makes the fourth."
Sidney had several questions he would have liked to have asked, but he knew it wasn't his place. The entire situation was an uncomfortable one, but he took solace in knowing that it wasn't his doing that caused his master to promote a gladiator. His thoughts would have continued, but a laugh interrupted him.
"Well... if it isn't Sidney." Wragol chided, walking right behind Fineas, who led him to the circle of posts. Behind the bull came three imposing figures: a massive cave bear, an enormous black-and-white tiger, and a furry yak that looked more like a stone mountain than a slave. "Looks like that horse of yours is about to be put in his place."
Sidney had no response for the comment and shied away a few feet as Wragol moved up to stand beside him at the post outside the circle. "Lord Hector, I have done as you commanded."
"Good, Wragol." the stag confirmed, and motioned to the three slaves "They will need weapons if we're doing this correctly.". The ox beside Lord hector hefted the cloth roll and proceeded over to them, unfurling it to provide the trio with their choice of weapons. The bear chose a large club, holding in with two paws; the tiger selected two swords; the yak hefted a two-handed battle axe.
Sidney fidgeted, looking at each of the three combatants and their weapons, then to Maern, who stood unarmed. Somewhere in the fox's mind he marveled at how relaxed and composed the stallion was. Did Maern realize he was going to have to fight one of these brutes? Sidney's heart almost stopped; what if Maern had to fight more than one of them?
"What's wrong, Sidney?" Wragol inquired, a hint of spite in his words, "Your slave doesn't even have a weapon! Is he worried about having to actually fight?"
"He doesn't wish to fight, Wragol." Hector answered.
"Ha!" the bull slapped Sidney on the shoulder, causing the fox to see stars; it was his wounded arm, "So he IS chicken!"
"Since he did not select a weapon, he will be fighting without one." the stag stated simply.
"This day is only getting better." Wragol grinned wickedly down at the fox.
Sidney wanted to ask for a reprieve. He wanted to beg Lord Hector to reconsider, or at least give him a chance to tell Maern to pick up a weapon, but he was a slave, and it was not his place. He stood next to the laughing bull, numb to the events around him as he watched his master direct Maern out of the ring, and ordered Wragol to present his first two prospective gladiators.
Wragol ordered the bear and the yak into the ring. Sidney watched transfixed, as if he were observing a great catastrophe from a long distance. He'd never seen a gladiator fight before and he was not particularly inclined to enjoy violence, but he couldn't look away. He watched the two beat at one another, watched a weapon's glancing blow here, a blow from the pummel of an attack there, seeing it all in a daze, realizing that, unlike the two combatants he was watching, Maern didn't have a weapon.
"Good." Lord Hector announced when the bear had fallen. The yak had a hoof on the bear's chest and had his axe up, ready to strike but, at the stag's command, he lowered the weapon and held out a paw to help the bear up. The bear, in return, pushed the arm away and got up on his own.
"I'm going to enjoy watching your slave get beaten bloody." Wragol grinned, absently reaching over his shoulder at his back to rub at some hastily placed bandages covering his snap flay wounds. Sidney rubbed his own shoulder in empathy, but his attention was quickly brought back to the pit when Lord Hector announced that the fight would begin.
Maern remained right where he was standing as the tiger slowly circled. The stallion didn't bother tracking him, merely staring straight ahead. "He's not even going to keep facing Choel?" Wragol smirked, "Maybe he just wants this to end quickly."
The tiger let out a roar and charged Maern, both wooden swords held high. The attacker swing both weapons forward with all his might, only to meet empty air; Maern had nimbly sidestepped at that last moment, still facing Lord Hector. Sidney's jaw dropped-- he had no idea someone so large could move so quickly. The tiger stumbled forward, falling down to one knee and dropping a sword. Growling, he picked it back up and turned to face Maern.
"Stop playing, Choel." Wragol snorted, "Beat him up good so we can get back to the real fights."
The tiger let out another roar and sprang at the horse, both swords leading the way. Maern's expression remained neutral but his eyes finally came off of Lord Hector and regarded his attacker instead. The stallion took a large step back and reached out to grab the over-balanced tiger's head, pushing it straight down. The tiger let out a yelp in surprise as he was forced face-down into the dirt. Maern stepped to the side and his eyes went back to the stag.
"What are you pulling, Sidney?" Wragol bristled, "What is this?"
"I... don't know." the fox replied in a feeble voice, "He isn't fighting."
"Well he isn't NOT fighting either." the bull scowled, "Choel... one more display like that and I'll throw you into sludge detail!"
The tiger's fur stood on end, a growl in each breath as he got back to his feet. The slave picked up both of his swords and began circling Maern once again. The stallion remained facing Lord Hector, calm and collected. The stag glanced casually to Sidney, "So you are aware, Sidney," the elk announced, "the word 'fight' in Vensian is 'covut'."
Sidney yelped when Choel brought both of his blades across Maern's back. The resounding wood-on-flesh crack made the fox's teeth grate. The tiger pressed the advantage when the stallion didn't respond, striking him again on the other side, before hitting both his shoulders with either weapon. Sidney's eyes went wide when blood began leaking out from beneath Maern's bandages.
"Maern!" Sidney screeched, "Do something!" Another two strikes brought Maern to his knees, blood now visible on the blades themselves where the impacts splattered the fluid from beneath the bandages. Choel raised both blades, ready to bring them down on either side of Maern's neck, "Fight back, Maern!" Sidney screamed, "Covut, Maern! COVUT!!"
The blades came down even as Maern's arms shot upward. The stallions' fingers gripped the tiger's wrists and, bowing forward, Maern pulled the tiger right over his back. Choel flipped in midair, roaring in pain as both of his arms were dislocated by the horse's iron-grip, shoulders bending impossibly due to the force of the swing. A split second later, the tiger was on his back, and Maern was standing, hoof raised over the prone slave's head.
"Good." Lord Hector announced, and Maern immediately lowered his leg without delivering the promised stomp. "Iya, Maern... kuus."
"Iya, Lord Hek-ter." the horse noted, and then turned to regard Sidney, "Good?"
The fox paused, staring at the injured tiger. Choel was squirming around on the ground, grunting as he slammed one shoulder against the earth, and then the other, a double-repeat of the sickening sound of his arms moving within their sockets. "I'm gonna be sick." Sidney noted.
"You worthless little puffball..." Wragol growled, reaching out and grabbing Sidney by the front of his tunic, "I don't know how you--" and he stopped immediately, turning to look at Lord Hector, who had leveled his gaze critically at the bull, "Lord Hector... should we prepare the next match?" he offered innocently, reaching down to provide Sidney a 'friendly' slap... on his injured shoulder. The fox let out a yelp and fell to one knee.
Lord Hector blinked, continuing to stare at the bull, who rubbed his palms on his breeches, looking away immediately, "Yes." the stag finally noted after a long pause, "But, considering the fact that I did not get a good judge of Sidney's slave's potential, I think this time we had best try two on one"
A smile exploded across Wragol's muzzle, "Oh, yes Master!" he chuckled, glancing to the bear and the yak, "You two..."
"No." Lord Hector declared, making the bull pause immediately, "I would like to see Dorias fight him, but I think I've seen enough of Uraou."
"Master..." Wragol noted, "The only other slave here to fight him would be Choel, and he--" the bull fell silent when he realized that the ox holding the wooden weapons was presenting them to him, "Me?" his expression was a mix of joy and hesitance.
"You and Dorias." the stag confirmed.
Wragol pointed at Maern, "NOW you're gonna hurt, boy." he declared. The stallion gave no response to the comment. Pushing the ox out of the way, Wragol stalked over and pulled the club out of the bear's paw, "I'll show you how to handle this." and he motioned to the yak, "Come on, Dorias... we're going to turn him into paste."
"This not a fight to the death, Wragol." Lord Hector cautioned, "Use restraint."
"Of course, Master." the bull acknowledged, glancing toward Sidney with a sneer, "I'll be very careful." and he gave a wink to the fox that suggested anything but.
Once the combatants had formed up within the circle, Lord Hector nodded, "Begin."
Wragol immediately charged Maern, head down, horns leading the way. The stallion sidestepped, pivoting on one hoof, and pushed the other out against the bull's rump. Wragol stumbled forward right into one of posts ringing the combat circle, and he met it groin first. Collapsing onto the ground, the bull dropped his club and cupped his crotch, but Maern's attention was already on the yak.
Dorias came at Maern with a quick stride, but did not charge. Within melee range, the yak brought his axe around in a wide swing at head height and, as Maern ducked, Dorias continued the spin and brought his leg up, his hoof connecting solidly to the side of the stallion's head. Maern paused for only a moment, then stood back up.
"Maern?" Sidney called, realizing what he forgot, "Covut." he ordered.
"Iya." Maern immediately reached out and grabbed hold of the yak's axe. The two wrestled over the weapon for a moment until Dorias leaned back and brought his hoof up to connect with Maer's gut. The stallion held his ground, however and, the moment the yak's hoof connected, Maern let go of the weapon. The impact from Doria's kick didn't do much damage, rather, it threw the yak further off balance and he fell backward to the ground.
With a simple stomp, Maern's hoof slammed down on the butt of the battle axe, causing it to rise straight up into the air. The stallion reached out and took hold of the weapon, spinning it around in one hand and arcing the shaft over to land in his other hand. Holding the battle axe in both hands, he looked down at Dorias.
The yak let out a sigh, looking away, "I yield." then added quietly, "Nu saap, iya?"
Maern nodded, "Iya." and he reached down to help Dorias to his feet. The stallion said something more in Vensian, and Sidney was surprised when the yak responded in kind. The fox was almost about to call attention to it, but Lord Hector spoke up first.
"We are done for the day." the stag announced, standing up from his chair.
"Yes Master." Sidney bowed immediately.
"Yes, Mas-tur." Maern repeated, bowing as well... and fell to the ground when a large boulder impacted against his head.
"We're not done!" roared Wragol, "I didn't yield!" and he kicked the horse in the ribs.
"Wragol!" Lord Hector's voice echoed with the rage of a god, cowing Sidney immediately, but apparently not having the same effect on the bull.
"You're nothing!" Wragol shouted at the prone stallion, kicking him again.
"ENOUGH!" the stag bellowed, and he stalked toward the bull.
"He's trash, Master... he's worthless!" Wragol exclaimed, kicking Maern two more times.
"Cease... or I'll have you snap-lashed." Lord Hector promised.
"What, Master? Five lashes? Ten?" the bull raged on, kicking Maern with each number, "It'd be worth it."
The sound of metal on metal finally made the bull pause; Lord Hector had drawn his sword, "No, Wragol." the stag noted, eyes glinting dangerously, "No lashes..." there was murder in his voice.
"I... I am loyal, Master." Wragol noted, taking a step away from Maern.
"Yes, you are," the stag acknowledged, "But you are also disobedient."
The bull spread his arms, "He pushed me to this." Wragol motioned to the horse, "Both of them." he added, pointing at Sidney, "I would never disobey you."
"If that were true, then my horse would not have broken ribs." Lord Hector offered calmly.
"I'm sorry, Master... I'm sorry." the bull lowered his head, "I have done wrong, and I ask mercy."
"Sidney?" Lord Hector inquired.
"Yes, Master?" the fox spoke up, hiding ineffectively behind one of the posts.
"What is it I told you that Slave Masters must never do?"
"Grovel, Master." Sidney answered without a pause.
"Wragol..." Lord Hector spoke, his voice holding an air of command, "I do not want you as one of my Slave Masters any longer."
"Master! I--" the bull gasped.
"Sidney..." the stag spoke up, interrupting Wragol, "What should a slave do when he has angered his Master beyond all rights of mercy?"
"Grovel, Master." the fox responded without even having to think. Getting the picture, the bull fell to the ground.
"Very good, Sidney." Lord Hector acknowledged, and he turned back to Wragol, "He knows more than most give him credit for." and the stag paused, "I do not care for taking life, Wragol, and I'm willing to give you a second chance."
"Thank you, Master... Thank you... I am yours." he spoke into the ground, face down on it, "Always loyal... I'll do whatever you'll have me do to prove myself."
"I'm assigning you to Ulric." the stag announced, and Wragol fell immediately silent, "Is that not acceptable, Wragol?" Lord Hector added after a moment.
There was a momentary pause, "It is your will, Master." the bull announced. Sidney could tell that he was not happy... but, unknown to either of them, Wragol was about to become even unhappier.
"Sidney." Lord Hector turned to face the fox.
"Yes, Master?"
"Wragol's field slaves will moved to your care." the stag announced, "Immediately."
Sidney didn't bother having to find the right response; fainting saved him the trouble.