Slave Trade - Prologue
Slave Trade Prologue copyright 2014 comidacomida
Lord Hector Desanti, the only son of a venerable lineage had been brought up with the finest of instructors. As a stag of some thirty-odd summers, he stood tall and sure, broad antlers crowning his head regally and white fur gleaming with a perfect sheen. He had spent his youth learning languages, scholastics, politics, etiquette, fencing, geography, and, most of all, decorum. The man claiming to be a healer, however, was testing the elk's dedication to the final teachings.
"Over eleven hundred years of recorded history, and yet, in that time, I am to understand that the Kingdom of Pross has yet to provide their healers even the most basic training for curing a man of an injured leg?" It was not an insult... not precisely. It was, as those in court preferred to call it, 'inferred scorn', and Lord Hector considered its use to be handed out judiciously... though the hedgehog claiming to be a skilled surgeon was trying his patience.
The healer bowed his head, "Curing men? Yes, my Lord... but your messenger came to the guildhall requesting treatment for a slave... and so you get me." The hedgehog cleared his throat, reaching for the lamp he'd been brought from the main manor; the slaves quarters did not have lamps and he had said that light was necessary for him to work. "When you ask for a surgeon to help a slave walk again you are asking for no small feat, Lord Hector."
"I have the coin to pay for it... that should be sufficient enough."
The hedgehog bowed his head and shook it back and forth, looking once again to the twisted leg of his patient. The mouse slave, Finneas by name, simply stared up at the ceiling passively as the healer worked. The hedgehog finished up with the bloody needle and thread and sighed. "Any healer worthy of a title would not so much as answer your summons. Honestly, your Lordship... to waste such talent on a slave--"
"It would not be wasted if the price was right." Lord Hector objected.
"My Lord... perhaps you do not understand as you hail from Vensii, but in Pross there is a stigma when it comes to--" but the healer was interrupted when the stag's fist slammed onto the wooden post of the bed; the hedgehog fell silent.
"Will Finneas walk again?" the stag asked.
The healer nodded meekly, "That is very likely, yes, your Lordship. I set the bone and the skin is--"
"Then we are done here." Lord Hector announced flatly without bothering to look up from the mouse, "Pay the man."
The hedgehog's eyes went wide when the large, collar-wearing, shirtless lion standing beside the door dumped a fat leather satchel into his paws. The healer stammered, "My Lord... this is--"
"The going rate of a skilled healer." the stag turned to gaze at the surprised man, "You have done as asked, and I keep my side of the bargain."
"But, Lord Hector... after the accident my license was revoked... I... I cannot lawfully charge this much to heal slaves. These are the wages for healing a free man when--"
"I paid you to heal." the stag replied flatly, eyes going back to the mouse, "Why should I care how much you charge? Consider the rest a bonus." and he waved the porcupine away, "Ulric... show him out."
"Come... Sir. You heard the Master." the lion obediently escorted the hedgehog out of the slave quarters... not that there was any doubt which way to go considering the entire building was a single room with only one exit.
The stag waited until they were both gone, "I promised you that I would make this right, Finneas.. you have my apologies for being harmed in my service."
"Thank yeh, Masteh..." the mouse acknowledged, gazing down at his paws, which lay on his stomach, "Ah tried t'git back home--"
Lord Hector smiled, "I know you did... but you should not have tried to walk with a broken leg. Just know that I do not fault you for having to be helped."
"Ahm, sorry, Masteh..." the mouse's eyes remained on his paws, obediently avoiding eye contact with the stag, "When th' slaves at th' pit started sayin'--"
"Enough, Finneas." the stag placed a paw on the slave's, "I want you to rest... and do not concern yourself with such matters."
"Ah'll be ready teh go back fer more errands when yeh need me, Masteh." the mouse promised. Lord Hector wouldn't have expected anything less from the slave; he was loyal to a fault and always eager to do as requested... sometimes too eager.
The stag was firm in his next decree, "You will not be running any errands off of the manor grounds in the next fortnight, Finneas. Do you understand?"
The mouse looked immediately mortified, but responded with a very obedient, "Aye, Masteh."
Lord Hector stood, "Good. Then you will spend the next few days resting and recovering and if you are recovering well I may have you 'gab-and-gather' for me around the estate." The term was one that Finneas had created for himself: a description of the mouse's duties, which involved mainly delivering messages and picking up deliveries on the stag's behalf. "Focus on healing, and before you know it you'll be back to your duties. Do we have an understanding?"
"Aye, Masteh... it's yeh will."
The stag gave the mouse a light pat on the shoulder, "Good man." Standing, Lord Hector took his leave, exiting the slave quarters and stepping back into the early morning light. Although the sun had only just left the horizon it already felt as though the day were much further along than it actually was; such was the way of awakening early to bad news.
Finneas had been sent into town the previous day to collect a house slave for him, but, according to reports, had been beaten by a small mob of other slaves. The mouse had attempted for most of the night to get back to the manor, but had collapsed half way home alongside the highway. Thankfully one of the road wardens had recognized the two shades of green on Finneas' collar and returned him to the stag's estate. Finneas was loyal, and eager to please, but that often meant that the mouse was prone to foolish acts in the name of service.
Lord Hector gazed around the courtyard of his manor; his house, the largest structure on his estate was on the far side of the plaza, while the half-dozen slave barracks were lined up well to the side to avoid detracting from the aesthetically pleasing view of his living area. Three stables, two for slave teams and one for beasts of burden completed the triangle that comprised the courtyard. His walled estate's gate was positioned between the barracks and the stables, which were mostly hidden from general view by a combination of arbor vitae and hedges."Master..." the gruff-but-obedient voice called for his attention, immediately pulling Lord Hector's focus to the wolverine who stood to his side a respectful distance away.
"Yes, Gralz?" he inquired. As one of Lord Hector's three slave masters, the wolverine was chosen to lead the house slaves because he had been able to conduct himself with a degree of refined manners, and that had only become better with practice.
"Your guest awaits you in the study." the slave master replied, looking at him, but not meeting his gaze.
The stag managed to restrain himself from frowning, "I am not expecting a guest."
"Yes, Master." Gralz bowed deeply, "I told your guest as much, but he guaranteed me that you will meet with him if I were to trouble you, and tell you that it is in regard to your fortune."
The stag's ears raised, "Thank you, Gralz... that will be all." and he started off immediately, pausing only long enough to add, "See to it that we are not interrupted."
"I will, Master."
* * * * * *
The curtains in the study were drawn when Hector arrived, cloaking the entire room in darkness save for small shafts of golden light peeking through the crack where the two bolts of thick fabric met. The dusty nature of the room made that single ray show all the more prominently as it cut through the darkness, providing a single blade of illumination on the floor, which highlighted the fur of a pure-white tail. The tail was pulled back into the blackness to join its owner as the stag entered.
"How is your slave, my Lord?" the voice spoke barely above a whisper, the normal volume preferred by his secretive guest during their clandestine meetings.
Lord Hector took a seat purposefully within the cascading shaft of light, "I would ask how you knew, but we both know that answer, don't we?"
The glint of a sharp tooth showed for a split second from the shadows, "You chose your healers well, Lord Hector... if anyone could heal your mouse's leg it would be old Tresyn."
The stag sat forward in his seat, gazing at the dark shadow across from him, "I assume you believe that Finneas is going to walk again?"
"I have no doubt of that, my Lord..." the shadowy visitor acknowledged, "...though not in time to get you your next slave."
"I have no other slaves to send to the market." the stag announced, "And, as you may have guessed, there is far too much here for me to tend to without having to go into town myself to purchase another--"
"You have a suitable replacement for Finneas already."
Lord Hectors ears raised anew, "I do?"
The cloud-white tail flicked back into view for just a moment, the reaction of his guest, who was likely enjoying the stag's confusion. "A fox... his name is Sidney, and he is one of your house slaves... he will make the trip on your behalf."
The stag studdied the darkness for a time, attempting to catch any signs from his guest's intent, "I do not remember any foxes among my slaves."
The sharp-toothed grin returned to its place in the shadows, "Given enough time I am certain you will remember him."
"And you think I should send a house slave to the market while Finneas is healing?" Hector couldn't keep the doubt from his voice.
A far-too-knowing chuckle emerged from the blackness, "Of course not... before the end of the day you'll see fit to promote him."
"You believe he will impress me that much?"
The stag's guest chuckled softly, "I am well aware that very little impresses you, my Lord."
"But you are saying that I should have faith in this untested slave?"
The stag gazed at the blackness without saying another word. His guest shifted slightly and Lord Hector was greeted with the eerie green glimmer of a carnivore's eyes, "I would hope so... you listened to me when you purchased him from Lord Bulhue's auction."
The origin of the fox helped Lord Hector remember, "Ah... yes... the... personal slave. And you think he has the necessary business acumen and temper to be good at bidding against others at the pits?"
"Can you recall the last time I have led you astray, your Lordship?"
If any smile had been on Lord Hector's lips, it quickly disappeared, "No... but I likewise cannot recall the last time I have ever known you to give me a straight answer during these little talks either."
The glinting sharp-toothed grin returned, "Your fox will return before nightfall if you have him sent now. He is working in the main hall... right this very moment, in fact; I saw him on my way in."
Lord Hector flicked an ear in agitation, "The main hall isn't even between here at the door. How could you--"
His visitor laughed, "My dear Lord Hector... since when have you known me to be inclined to use the front door?"
The stag did not bother attempting to add any humor to his words, "Of course... how foolish of me. Was it the garden terrace? The servant's entrance, or perhaps...." he fell silent when he realized he was alone in the study once again, and that's when he discovered the answer to his own question, "...the passage." The soft closing of the door hidden within the book case on the far side of the study attested that he was right.
Saved the time it would take to dispense the over-abundant pleasantries of wishing farewell to his guest, Lord Hector went immediate out to the foyer and, from there, made his way to the great hall. Glancing around, the stag was mildly perturbed to see that it was devoid of a fox. The numerous vases, statuettes, and other such costly trappings of the upper class were all in place and, the elk noted, well cleaned. Just as Lord Hector was about to leave, however, Gralz passed by.
"Gralz."
The wolverine was by his side in a moment, "Yes, Master?"
"The fox you had cleaning here... where is he?"
Gralz paused, but took only a moment to zero in on who Lord Hector meant, "Sidney? I sent him to get some polish from your leather worker, Master."
"Find someone else to run the errand." Hector said, "I am reassigning Sidney to Ulric for today... I need a slave to gather something from the city for me."
Despite the confusion and doubt that snuck onto the wolverine's muzzle for the briefest instant, Gralz was far too obedient to object, "Yes, Master." and he disappeared off down the hall toward the main entrance.
With Gralz seeking out the fox, Lord Hector went to find his leonine slave master to be certain that Sidney received proper instruction. The stag encountered Ulric outside by the side of the manor, directing two field slaves... neither of them were the lion's responsibility, "These men are not your concern, Ulric."
The lion about-faced immediately, squaring his shoulders and puffing out his chest, almost like the king's soldiers; it was no secret that Ulric tried everything he could to seek the stag's favor, and presentation was one of those things, "Yes, Master... they are from Wragol's stable, but he-"
"He is out in the field... and these slaves should be returning to their duties." the stag interrupted him.
"Yes, Master. Of course, Master." The lion gestured dismissively to the bear and the tiger... but neither went anywhere.
"Uraou." Hector spoke the name of the bear, a large, Diermynan grizzly.
"Aye, Masta?"
"Where is Dorias and why is he not with you and Choel?"
The tiger spoke up, "Wragol took--"
Hector didn't boter letting him finish, "I was asking Uraou, Choel."
"He was talking to Uraou, slave." Ulric repeated the stag's comment and backhanded the tiger on the side of the muzzle.
Lord Hector was not pleased, "ULRIC!" The lion froze at the tone of the stag's voice, "Do you take enjoyment out of damaging my property?!?"
"N-no, Master... I only meant--"
"Go to the courtyard and await me there."
"Yes, Master." Ulric had the good sense of not waiting around to be further addressed. With no other direction required, the bowing slave master made a quick retreat.
The elk turned back to the other two slaves, just in time to hear the tiger growl under his breath, "...his tail down his own throat..." a drop of blood fell from his nose, unnoticed since his eyes remained on the lion.
Lord Hector sighed; field slaves were often some of the most onery, and Choel was certainly no exception, "Go to Wragol and inform him that I expect Dorias to join you when you return to your training... is that clear?"
"Aye, Masta." the bear confirmed.
Choel was less immediately agreeable, "Wragol took Dorias out to the field to help with the plowing, Master."
"Thank you, Choel, for that information... but I did not ask WHY Dorias is with him, only that it is my will that he be with the two of you... training.".
Choel opened his muzzle in what Lord Hector knew was going to be a very improper response, but Uraou grabbed the tiger by the wrist and shook his head. It was enough to get the impetuous slave to change his choice of words, "Yes, Master. I'm sorry, Master."
"No harm done..." the stag replied, "...this time." and he left the two slaves to return to their slave master. Lord Hector had always prided himself in being able to accept any slave, no matter how little liked by their last master, and find something redeeming within them. It was true that some were harder to shape and develop, but the stag believed that everyone had value, and that, for some, it simply meant digging deeper.
The elk made his way around to the front of his manor where he knew Ulric would be awaiting him; the lion was a good example of such a hard-won prize. Impetuous, difficult to manage, and prone to acts of violence on other slaves, it had taken Hector several years of work to help guide him into the position he had been assigned. It was true that Ulric was still not perfect but, the stag reminded himself often, no man truly was.
The lion spoke, eyes gazing down at the ground in front of the elk, "I'm sorry, Master. I will submit to any punishment you feel I deserve."
"For what are you apologizing, Ulric?" the stag asked calmly.
"I was issuing orders to slaves that were not in my stable, Master."
Lord Hector flicked an ear, "And?"
There was a moment's pause as Ulric thought about the question, "And I spoke over you. I would accept a thousand lashes if I had made you think I place myself above you... there is no one above you, Master, and I--"
The stag interrupted him, "You struck Choel."
"Yes, Master." there was obvious confusion in the lion's tone, but he obediently agreed regardless.
Lord Hector chose to elaborate for Ulric's benefit, "Choel was not yours to discipline."
"He disrespected you, Master. As one of your slave masters, it is my duty to--"
The stag's frown alone silenced the lion, and Hector spoke up only once Ulric fell silent, "It is your duty to obey... and we have discussed this before."
The slave master lowered his nead, falling to his knees, "Of course, Master."
The stag placed a hand on the lion's shoulder, "Stand. You can make it up to me."
"Anything, Master."
"I am assigning one of my new slaves to take over Finneas' duties for today. I still need a new house slave, and I am moving a fox named Sidney from Gralz's stable to your supervision... for today only. You are to provide him with this script," at which point the stag handed a sealed envelope to the lion, "and instruct him on what he will need to do to make the purchase at the slave pits in the city."
"Yes, Master."
The stag narrowed his eyes as he gazed at Ulric, who immediately looked down at the ground, "His name is Sidney; I do NOT want him harmed. Ensure that Sidney does well on this and you will have redeemed yourself. Do you understand?"
"I will not fail you, Master." the lion vowed. The promise was oddly apropos, as Hector's visitor had noted that SIDNEY would do what needed to be done, yet the stag had an eerie doubt when it came to Ulric.
In the end, Lord Hector simply nodded, "Dismissed." As the lion trotted off to attend to his task, the stag was left standing on the cobblestone path that lead from his front door, wondering just what was so important about having another slave... and why it was imperative that the strange, young, untested fox be the one to fulfil that duty. Despite his misgivings, Lord Hector left that answer up to fate and trust... but mostly fate.