Chapter 15

Taven laid on his back next to Nikal, as he did most every night now, and Nikal had abandoned his habit of reading a few lines in a book before falling asleep to read Taven’s body with his fingers instead. Nikal pulled Taven’s braid up from under the pillow and placed it on his chest, smoothed it out in its full length down to his thighs, touching the silky rope. "I’m so used to it now that I hardly ever think about it, but now and then it hits me just how amazing this is" Nikal said softly, "I’ve never seen anyone with longer hair than you have. I’ve asked you before, but you never really gave me an answer, why do you keep it?" Taven slowly pulled the braid from out of his master’s hands as if he was afraid he would suddenly pull it off. "Ah, I just do." Nikal persisted. "Yes, but… There must be a reason, and why did your former owners let you keep it? Beautiful as it is, it must have been highly impractical." Taven absentmindedly wound the braid around his left wrist and hand, and chewed on his lower lip. "They called it Virgin Hair," he finally said. Nikal raised an eyebrow. "That’s an odd expression." Taven grinned. "I know, like anything on me could be virginal! It has never been cut, ever, not since I was born, it’s still the first hair I’ve had, so – Virgin Hair, you get it Master?" Nikal carefully unwound the braid from Taven’s hand and retrieved it, looking at it closely with a new sort of fascination. "Really? That alone is remarkable in its strangeness." Taven looked proud. "You can’t do it with everybody, you know? Not just anyone has the hair for it, you know? The widow, she used it when she sold me, to get a higher price for me… Swift… he bought me, I think, because of it… He was like hair-crazy, you know what I mean Master? Like… got off on it?" Nikal nodded. "It was a fetish?" "Yeah, that’s what it was! Swift let people treat me most anyway they wanted to you know, they beat me and all and he just laughed, but he told anyone using me that he would fucking beat them up if they ever damaged my hair… he never… ruined my hair… Only thing he never hurt." Taven swallowed hard, but went on. "I think he kept me as long as he did because he would damn well never find anyone with longer hair than me, he tired of me long before the hair, if you know what I mean? He was just meaner and meaner and I thought he’d kill me any day… Anyway… he wouldn’t allow I cut it…" "That explains a few things," Nikal said, "but why are you, yourself, so careful with it. Why do you want to keep it? Isn’t it only a hassle? I’ve seen you struggle with it. It takes you half a day to entangle it. Cleaning it is a project all on its own. It’s heavy and… For goodness sake, if it isn’t in a braid it downright handicaps you, you can hardly move before it gets tangled in something, or…" Nikal silenced at Taven’s eyes widening in some sort of terror. "No, no, I didn’t mean that I think you should cut it. I like it Taven, you know that I do. As long as you don’t try to strangle me with it again I won’t force you to cut it against your will." Nikal winked at him, but Taven still flushed red. "I--- I’m really, reeeally sorry about that Master, I don’t know what I was think… I wasn’t even thinking at all… I just--- just…" "I know," Nikal interrupted, "you were utterly confused that day, and suspicious about me, I would think. Or did you just want to commit suicide? Most people would have killed you for something like that, do you realize that?" Taven looked away. "I--- I wasn’t thinking… but I knew really, that you maybe would… but… maybe I wanted to," he whispered, "you know… die… because all I could think of… when you bought me, you know… was that now… now it would… you know, start all over again, and I just…" He turned his head back, eyes wide with honesty. "I’d never do anything like that again! I sweeear!" Nikal gave him a very serious look. "You had better not!" he said, but his expression softened soon enough. "I understand," he continued, "you couldn’t know about me. But you didn’t budge until I threatened to cut the braid off, so why is it so important to you?" Taven’s whole face kind of crumpled in an effort to answer that. "I don’t know," he finally managed," why you always force me to, you know, talk, and--- and think! You know how hard that is Master, really?" Nikal smiled. "Yes. I know that’s hard, but once you give it an honest try Taven, you’re actually quite good at it." Taven sighed. "I just want it, because it’s like… it’s me! There’s nothing else that’s me. Don’t remember my mum… no one ever gave me a name… just did to me and changed me how the hell they liked… only thing they left alone… they never touched my hair, only because it was different… exotic, right? Not that they really cared if I wanted it or not, but…. I was the boy with the hair, you know? It’d be gone… I’d not be anything…" "Well," Nikal said, "you do have a name now." Taven nodded slowly. "Yeah, but… I only borrow that, I’m not ‘Taven’ really, that’s your brother." "Borrow? Well, in a way, yes, and in the beginning, I must admit, it felt strange calling you that. But now… Well, I hear that name I see you before me as much as I see my brother before me, and that’s how you truly own a name. And I really like your hair very much Taven, but I actually like you a little bit more. You lost it I would still like you. You’re more than your hair." Taven shrugged and turned in the bed, pulling his braid with him, twisting it around his hands like a comfort blanket. >>> * <<< Nikal was buying himself a new necktie, at the mall. In the most exclusive boutique in the complex of course, but still, at the mall. It was, Taven had heard attending his master at parties, beneath a clan member to shop at the mall, but Nikal seemed to prefer to shop where ‘ordinary’ people were shopping. Be that as it may, there were funnier places in the mall than this. Taven waited patiently beside his master as he held different patterned pieces of cloths up, and he nodded and hummed at all the right places as Nikal asked him what he thought of this or that tie, while his mind wandered elsewhere. The more shocked he got at the hands that forcibly grabbed his shoulders from behind and shook him. Taven’s heart nearly stopped, his knees turned to jelly, and he couldn't help the scream. Ever since Roth and he had run into Swift at the mall, Taven had not been as eager about going there anymore, and felt nervous and tense when they did. Nikal spun around at the scream, looking shocked, but the expression turned to an annoyed frown. "Serenity! What are you doing?" Serenity shrugged guiltily. "Uh… Nothing. I didn’t do anything, I just…" It was only Serenity. Taven sighed in relief, but with relief came embarrassment, and with embarrassment… anger! "You stupid fuck!" Taven went for Serenity, who stepped back with a surprised look, "you bastard!" Taven yelled and clawed at him. But Nikal grabbed him before he reached Serenity, and pulled him back with some force. His master’s hand held his neck in a steel grip, and the words breathed into his ear demanded instant obedience. "Do not create a scene in here, Taven! I’m warning you." Taven choose to acknowledge that order, and Nikal slowly let go as Taven tried to breathe himself calm again. "Jesus, Taven, you don’t have to curse at me like that," Serenity said looking indignant, "don’t you have any sense of humor at all?" "No! I’ve never had any fucking use for that particular sense, have I?" Serenity, in his turn, chose to ignore Taven’s poisonous sarcasm and smiled widely in reply. Nikal sighed. "Well, your sense of humor is utterly childish and immature Serenity," he said, "really, you should know better." Serenity bowed to Nikal. "I guess I should, Master Wren. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle him like that," Serenity turned to Taven and bowed even deeper, "I apologize Taven, you’re not angry, are you?" Taven stared at Serenity’s bowed flaxen head and slim back, feeling utterly uncomfortable at someone bowing to him, and very suspicious. Was Serenity mocking him? But in some way, in spite of Serenity’s habit of joking and teasing… when he sounded as if he was being honest… Well, if he weren’t, he sure as hell was damn good in faking it. Taven didn’t know how to react to the apology, but finally he muttered something about not being angry, and Serenity straightened up at that, and flashed them both a sparkling smile. "Great! Hey, you want to go and look for something funnier than this? Please Master Wren, you don’t need him in here, do you? Can he come with me for a while? Please? We won’t stray?" Nikal shook his head smiling. "You’re just a big kid, aren’t you, heh Serenity? You want to go with him Taven?" Taven shifted feet a few times and looked hesitant, but finally he nodded. "All right then," Nikal said, "but be back here within an hour, you hear me? Don’t make me go and look for you!" >>> * <<< Slaves were not allowed into most shops, or other establishments in the mall. In some of them, not even if they were brought by their masters, and definitely not on their own. So Taven had assumed Serenity and he would just saunter around the public area for a while. But Serenity had a certain goal it seemed, walking straight up to a dark "hole in the wall" framed by blinking neon lights. Behind a sparkling bead drapery there was a cacophony of strange blipping noises, and equally odd flashes of light. "You gotta see this place," Serenity said, "it’s like a museum." "What is it?" Taven asked. "This? This is a real old fashioned Arcade. They have nothing modern in here, only old games, pinball games and what not; it’s real fun actually. So, OK, listen, they won’t let slaves in on their own, so today, I’m not one, but you are mine, get it?" Taven got it all right, but he sure didn’t like it. "Are you nuts? No way!" Serenity sighed demonstratively. "You want to see what’s in here, or not? And it’s not like you can play the master, is it? Hello! Who has the clip-free ear here, you or me? Me? Yes, me! So just go along with it, OK? I won’t boss you around, I promise." Taven could not really deny the logic of that, and he was curious, so he decided to swallow the humiliation, but he gave Serenity a look as they went in that warned him of taking advantage of the situation, which, of course, he did as soon as he could. Serenity padded his head as he walked up to a brightly flashing pinball machine, and made sure his voice carried over the noise. "Now, you just be a good little slave, and don’t move out of the way while your master have a bit of fun here. That’s it," he pushed Taven into a corner behind the pinball machine and began searching for coins in his pockets, "you’re a good little boy, aren’t you?" Taven stayed in the corner, weighing the certainty of a severe punishment against the satisfaction of getting to smash Serenity’s face through the thick glass on the top of the pinball machine, and was just short of consider even execution worth it. But after a while he forgot it, he walked up to see what Serenity was doing and was soon entranced by the game and Serenity’s enthusiasm about it. Taven didn’t get much about how it all worked, but it seemed Serenity was good at it, at least if the flashing, ever increasing, digital numbers on the machine and Serenity’s frequent triumphant outcries was any indication. But suddenly Serenity let go of the whole thing in the middle of a game and cursed, staring over Taven’s shoulder. "Oh shit!" Taven slowly turned and almost bumped into a man standing right behind him. The man was not looking happy. "Hey, you! Yes, you. Get out of here, both of you! Slaves aren’t allowed, come on, get the hell out of here!" The man pushed Taven against Serenity and the situation was worrying enough to make him keep his mouth shut, there was no one here to save them from a possible beating, and this man looked tough. Taven turned to leave, but Serenity grabbed at him and made him stay at his side. "Who says I’m a slave," he said giving the man a condescending look, which was the spitting image of any aristocrat’s. Serenity had surely learnt a thing or two growing up among them. "How dare you? Do I look like a slave to you? Do you see a clip in my ear, hah? Do you? Really, you are insulting me, and I will…" The man was obviously not falling for it; he gave up a mocking laugh. "Don’t even try boy, I recognize a clan pet when I see one, you’re a slave all right. What? Do you think I’m stupid? You’re nothing but a fuck-toy if ever I saw one. Now get the hell out of my Arcade you painted whore, before I call security." To Taven’s utmost surprise Serenity actually made a silly face at the man. "Oh aren’t we the smart one. What? Jealous of my master, are you?" Serenity pushed his slim hips out against the man in a very obvious and rude way, grabbing himself between the legs, licking his lips suggestively. "In your dreams, Mister!" They didn’t stop running until they were almost back at the boutique where they had left Nikal. Hiding behind some big columns, catching their breath. Taven still felt the back of his neck prickle at the fear of getting caught, but it seemed the man had giving up on following them only just outside his Arcade. Serenity almost choked on his own laughter as he tried to breath normally again, and they had just managed to get back into some sort of normal state when they saw Nikal emerge from within the shop, carrying bags. Nikal smiled at them. "Oh there you are, good. Taven take these bags will you." Serenity didn’t seem to want to stay for a possible chastising from Nikal in case Taven would reveal their little adventure. He smiled at them both, gave Nikal a slight bow and told them he had to go, then he quickly disappeared down a lane waving at them over his shoulder. "You had fun?" Nikal asked him. Taven didn’t know how to answer that at first. Had they had fun? Had that been fun? But after a few seconds he decided that, yes, that had indeed been rather fun. He nodded, "Yes Master, but you know… Serenity, he’s just…" and he said it with a totally new sense of respect for Serenity that he had never felt before, "just completely crazy!" Nikal smiled, "you haven’t got that until now?" >>> * <<< Yes, Taven thought, that had been fun, and he was kind of stunned by that thought. He thought that maybe he had never "had fun" before, that he had not even known what "having fun" was, not before he had had it. This life was so different from the one he had lived before; it struck him now and then, just how different it was. Sometimes when he was caught in that strange state of mind you could experience when you were just about to fall asleep, or was slowly waking up, and you didn’t know what was real or what was a dream… he wasn’t sure which life was the real one. Was he still a piece of property belonging to Swift, was he still tied to the pipe, naked on that cold cement floor only dreaming desperate dreams of a better life, a kind master? Or was he really belonging to someone like Nikal, wishing he could simply enjoy being treated so well, and that he could chase away those bad dreams, sleeping or awake ones, of his former abusers? Yes, at those half-asleep, half-awake moments, he wasn’t sure where he was… And for a few seconds that very feeling washed over him as Nikal and he rounded the fountain at the small square at the center of the mall, and James Swift was standing there at the hot dog stand, only a few yards away… >>> * <<< Nikal wasn’t prepared at Taven’s sudden reaction. He almost gave him an annoyed shove and an irritated reprimand when the slave unexpectedly and without warning or explanation threw himself at him. Taven clung to him, grabbed at his arm, forced him to stop by digging in his heels, and dropped the bags on the floor, tugged at his arm… But then Nikal saw his eyes. Taven looked terrified, and he was trying to tell him something, but seemed too much in agony to even talk. None of it made sense to Nikal, but he stopped and turned to Taven, forgetting his annoyance. What on earth was with the boy, was he ill? "Pleease Master… please…" Taven managed a hoarse whisper, tugging at his arm. "Please, we must go… go another way… please… before he sees me… please…" "What’s the matter Taven? What are you talking about? Calm down, you’re not making any sense, and…" Nikal cut himself short to grab Taven by his shoulders and pull him closer. "It’s Swift, isn’t it? He’s here? He’s here somewhere, isn’t he? Show him to me Taven, show me who he is?" But Taven just shook his head. "No, no, no… please Master, let’s just go… he… he’s big… Big! He will… will… hurt you, and… pleeease…" Taven started crying in his desperation of getting them both out of there and away from Swift, and Nikal understood that the slave’s fears were not only for himself. Taven was afraid that Swift was going to hurt him as well. And maybe the slave was only worried about him for all the pragmatic reasons, but Nikal felt oddly touched at that discovery never the same. Nikal pulled him even closer. "Listen to me Taven, don’t worry, I can take care of my self, and you as well. Now, do as I tell you and point him out to me." Taven shook in his arms, but obeyed, slowly he raised a shivering arm and pointed, Nikal looked, and a strange sort of cold determination filled him. He walked the still shivering and sniveling slave to a bench by the fountain and made him sit on it. "Stay here Taven! You hear me? Do not move out of the way until I come for you, that’s an order, understand?" Nikal didn’t really know what he intended to do when he walked up to Swift. Swift didn’t react at first as Nikal silently stopped right in front of him. But after a short while he must have felt he was being stared at, and he interrupted what he was about to say to the guy in the hot dog stand, to look up at him. There was no recognition in his eyes, and how could there be? This was the first time they saw each other, and Swift had not seen Taven, so he wouldn’t make that connection either, besides, Swift thought Roth owned Taven, Nikal remembered. Well, Nikal intended to introduce the true owner of Taven, and then he would… Would what? Again, he wasn’t sure. Maybe he would simply tell Swift what a bastard he was? Tell him that he knew everything about what a horrible human being he was? Yes, maybe he would feel better if he could only get to express his opinion of Swift being a really horrible human being! If one could even call that human. Standing there staring James Swift in the face, Nikal thought he had never seen anything more ugly than that in his life. Not that Swift looked any prettier or uglier than people did in general, if you were to be totally objective. But Nikal had no way of being objective here. He knew of the inner ugliness of this man, and it crept out of every pore and saturated the whole man in utter and revolting ugliness. And as he stood there and stared Nikal saw Taven’s scared eyes in front of him, saw his thin and pale body, covered in whip scars and burn marks… Big black letters flashed in front Nikal’s eyes, blinking *whore* *whore* *whore*… Taven’s cries and screams filled his ears… "Hey! Weirdo! Are you stoned, or something? What the hell are you staring at?" Swift’s voice mixed in with Taven’s nightmare screams still echoing in his ears, and he didn’t even know he got into position before the kick was already in full force. His leg launched out, and for the first time in his life, that viper-strike kick Nikal was so good at hit human flesh instead of an inanimate sandbag… A human face was not as endurable as a sandbag. Nikal felt Swift’s nose cave in under his heel, Swift’s eyes rolled up into his head, blood gushed out, staining his pant’s leg. Swift fell like a slaughtered bull. Nikal stared at the body at his feet, and all he could think about was that he never would have thought there was that much blood in a human nose, and that it could actually gush out like that. There was the oddest feeling in having done something like that. Nikal could never have imagined that he had had such rage inside of him. He was shocked to say the least. Still he could not feel guilt, could not help the feeling of… satisfaction. Nikal was quite lost in his own contradictory feelings, but the slowly rising upheaval around him forced him out of it, and he started to realize what he had actually done. That is to say, gone up to a total stranger in the mall, bashed his face in, kicking him unconscious, without saying as much as a word, seemingly without any reason whatsoever. And this he had done with hundreds of people around, seeing the whole thing. People were starting to react to it. A few women dragged their weeping kids away. Some old lady gave up a scream; others were rushing to surround them. In no time, Swift’s unconscious bleeding body was totally hidden from view by all the people rushing up to check on him. Someone had fetched the guards. The guards reached at him, pulled on his arms, shouted things in his face. The guards called an ambulance; the guards called the police. Men in white uniforms shoved people aside and carried Swift away. Men in black uniforms, pulled his arms back, cuffed his wrists and walked him away. It all happened within a timeframe that seemed to be utterly warped in Nikal’s confused mind. It wasn’t until the police car rolled out on the street that he remembered Taven, but there was nothing he could do about it now… >>> * <<< Taven had obeyed and remained seated on the bench during the whole commotion. But it might have been more for being so utterly stunned at what he saw than obedience. He had had a front row seat view of it all, and he simply couldn't believe his eyes. Had his master really done that? He had watched Nikal go up to Swift with a heavy lump of pure ice in his stomach, but it was Swift who had ended up on the floor. And something had happened when Swift’s nose exploded, something happened when the blood almost seemed to stay in the air while that massive body fell backward… something happened as Swift hit the marble floor with a nasty thud, probably unconscious even before he started falling. Swift was made human! Swift was made into something that actually could be beaten… For a few minutes Taven just sat there, totally flabbergasted by the whole situation. And to think Nikal had lectured him about the importance to control ones anger, and how many times had his master told him not to make scenes! Taven grinned to himself; his master had just now totally lost it, and made the worst scene ever. But then it struck him with full force what had actually happened, and the smile vanished in an instant to be replaced with fear. He was left to himself, abandoned in the middle of the mall. The police had arrested Nikal, and he had no idea where they had taken his master, or when he would come back. He had no idea where to go, if to go anywhere, or what to do. And there were people everywhere, people, people wherever he looked, and he didn’t know what any of them were capable of, and what he might have to oppose to them. His heart started racing, and his head was spinning, he desperately wanted out of here, but he couldn’t even remember where the exit was. Finally he rose from the bench and started off in the direction his nose happened to point to, forgetting the bags on the floor. He wandered about aimlessly for what seemed like an eternity, fighting the threatening panic within him, and when he finally saw an exit he rushed toward it and crashed through the doors. But well outside he wanted to go back inside again. The mall was big, yes; the mall was full of people, yes. But the city outside was even bigger and there were even more people. He looked about him, but didn’t recognize anything. He thought that they had never entered the mall from this street before, but he wasn’t sure, maybe he just had never really looked around before. Following at someone’s heels, you never really paid attention to the streets and the buildings around you. Taven fought his tears as he glided down against the wall to sit at the pavement. What the hell was he going to do? He forced himself to calm down, and told himself that he had to try to get back home in some way, though he had no idea how he would manage that. He didn’t even know in what direction to start walking. But then he suddenly knew… Roth! He had to get in contact with Roth in some way. Of course! Roth could help him. Roth could fix this. He must find a phone and call Roth; it was as simple as that. Feeling less panicky at coming to a decision about something that actually could help him calmed him down considerably, and he started to run up and down the streets, looking about him for a phone booth. He found one soon enough, but not until he entered it did he realize how stupid he was. He had just been clinging to any comforting thought, without thinking through it in the least. So, he had found a phone booth. Did he maybe know Roth’s phone number? And did he perchance have any money to make the call with? Neither, of course. He could have smacked himself. If there would have been a phone book in the booth he could maybe have looked Roth’s number up? He wasn’t that good at reading yet, and he didn’t really know how to spell ‘Roth’… but there wasn’t, so it didn’t matter. Desperate for any information that could help him, he started to try to read the sign above the phone. After much brooding he thought he could interpret some of the words so that if you wanted to call the police or the hospital, calls were free, and then a row if numbers. Some of those numbers were free? OK, he would call them, he wasn’t sure where he would end up, but he was desperate. Wherever he ended up, maybe he could get the person that answered to help him contact Roth? If they didn’t see him, couldn’t see he was a slave… maybe they would? Filled with some kind of hope, he lifted the receiver… but there was no dial tone. He hit all buttons he could find, not a sound. He gave the phone a few punches and shook the receiver violently… still not a sound. The phone was broken. Taven felt only one thing at this discovery, that he wanted to fucking kill that phone. He bashed the receiver a few times against the phone, and then he raised it high over his head for a final forceful "death-blow"… And it was like his hand got stuck in the air! Taven started violently at the hand that suddenly grabbed his wrist as out of nowhere, and at the strict voice that spoke in his ear, making him freeze up. "I really hope for your sake that you are not planning on vandalizing this phone booth." Taven tried in vain to jerk his hand free from the hard grip. "I wasn’t… fuck… let go… Ow that hurts! It was already broken… I didn’t break it! I swear, I…" He silenced abruptly as he turned and saw the sleeve of a uniform. A policeman? The police had taken his master; God only knew what they could do to him. He let go of the receiver and the policeman caught it with his other hand and released his wrist from the painful grip. Taven automatically rubbed at his sore wrist, as he stared at the uniformed man. The policeman stared back with a suspicious look, and suddenly he got hold of his upper arm instead, pulling him out from the booth and into the sunlight. Ignoring Taven’s cursing and squirming the policeman held his head to the side and studied the metal clip in his ear. "That’s what I thought… So, slave, what are you doing here all by yourself? Are you on the run? Well?" By now Taven was more than desperate, scared and confused, and the only thing he really wanted to do was to crumple into a small heap on the street and weep. What use was there in answering the man’s questions? What use in telling him the truth? The uniformed man would never believe him, and why would he let him try to explain anyway? The policeman would take him somewhere too, and lock him up. And since his master also had been taken somewhere, and probably was locked up as well, no one would come for him. And surely they would soon let his master go, because he was a clan lord, wasn’t he? And they just couldn’t do that to a clan lord, could they? But when they did let him go Taven would be gone, and how would his master ever find him now? Would Nikal even look? Just see what trouble Taven had caused him, it was his fault that his master had got arrested. He should never have pointed Swift out. The policeman shook him a little and stared sternly at him to get him to answer, Taven fought his instincts to flee, fought the impulse to just kick the bastard in the nuts to make the man let go of him, so that he could turn and run. But it wouldn’t do him any good he knew that. The policeman would catch him soon enough, and then he would find himself not only locked up, but beaten half to death as well. His master had tried to teach him, after all, that not all people were bad people, and it could not hurt to try to plead to a man’s possible sense of kindness. So he would try that first, try to plead with the man holding him. And if that didn’t work, he would give his balls an well-aimed kick, and run for his life. It was not really hard to start to cry that was what he wanted to do anyway. "Please Sir, please I’m not a runaway I swear! More like… like lost and… and I was trying to call the police, honest, only… only the phone wasn’t working and I wasn’t trying to break it… I swear." And miracles of miracles… the man’s expression softened. "Lost you say? All right, let’s go back to my car and sit down to sort this out. Don’t look so scared kid, I’m not going to hurt you." He was lead to a police car parked across the street, and motioned into the backseat. The policeman entered the backseat from the other side, and sat down beside him. Smiling reassuringly at him the policeman brought forth a pair of handcuffs. Taven stared at them with widening eyes, and then turned to claw wildly at the car door, but there was no handle. He was trapped. He cursed inside, how stupid could one get? His stomach recoiled at the mere thought of how much this man would be able to hurt him now. The policeman smiled even more. "Don’t get all panicky on me now boy, I told you that I’m not going to hurt you. This is not to hurt you, only so that I can be sure that you won’t try to hurt me. Only a precaution, do you understand? I swear I will not hurt you." Taven was far from assured but what could he do? He was trapped; he turned and put his hands on his back, swallowing a surge of nausea as the chilly metal gripped his wrists, and at the sound of the cuffs locking. "Jesus," the man exclaimed, "not exactly the first time someone used a pair of cuffs on you, hah? And your wrists are thin as sticks too, don’t your master feed you?" Taven shrugged. "He only eats bird food," he muttered under his breath. "What?" the man grinned, "uh… well… See? I haven’t started to hit you, have I? And I’m not going to either. Now, tell me what you are doing here by yourself, and what you really tried to do with that phone. Take your time and take it from the beginning, and I will only interrupt to ask you if you say something that I don’t understand, OK?" Taven looked up in astonishment. Was he really that nice, or was he only taunting him? And if he really was that nice… Where there hell had all nice people been all of his life before? If there actually were many nice people out there, as his master had claimed there were, then where the hell were those people when people like Swift mistreated their property? "Ahh…" Taven started with every intention to lie about the whole situation, and feeling no hesitation or remorse about it, "there’s not much to it really, Sir… I was just sent out on an errand… Sent out to buy a--- a magazine! But then I lost the money and I wasn’t sure I dared go back and so I just started to stroll around thinking about what to do, you know and before I knew it I didn’t know where I was, you know? Because my master won’t let me go that far ever and I was just so into my thoughts coz I was scared you know? And didn’t see where I went and…" The policeman cut him short with a laugh. "OK I get the picture. But why were you trying to call the police, and not your master?" Taven looked at him as if he was stupid. "Duh… I don’t have any money and calling the police is free, right? Besides can’t read, can I? I don’t know my master’s number, and I can hardly separate the phone book from the bible anyway." Taven straightened up, this story was good and besides the last part of it had not been that much of a lie, sure his master had taught him the basics of reading, and he was good at the alphabet, he was! But most things were still too complicated for him to actually read! The policeman was amused now. "I’ll say, you’re a funny one. All right, I tell you what, you tell me your master’s name, I’ll call the station to find his address and then I’ll take you home. Maybe I can talk a little to your master as well, about the lost money. You didn’t lose it on purpose, did you? No? Then you shouldn’t need to fear punishment. We will explain it to him. Don’t you worry." Taven stared, was this man for real? The policeman reached over to the driver’s seat and pulled the car radio back with him to the back seat, soon getting in contact with a metallic woman’s voice at the station. "All right kid, what’s his name?" "Mr. Roth," Taven said without hesitation, lying about who really owned him for the second time. But there was just no use in letting the policeman take him back to the mansion. There were only servants and slaves there now, all of them fair competitors to each other in stupidity, Taven snorted in contempt at the mere thought of them. No, only Roth could help Nikal, that part of his original plan he was sticking to, he thought, and surprised himself with how much he actually did trust the big man to fix this whole mess. The policeman at his side pulled him out of his musings with yet another question. "Nandy says there are 22 Roths in this town, what’s his first name?" Taven looked up, all frozen, that there could be more than one Roth in this town had simply never occurred to him, and now it would all fall on such a stupid thing. He got so surprised by it that he couldn’t think up a plausible excuse. "Ahhh… his first name? Uh… I… I don’t know." It was true, in all this time he had never heard anyone calling Roth anything else than just ‘Roth’ Now the policeman looked suspicious again. "You don’t know your own master’s first name?" Taven got all flustered and angry at the unfairness of it all. "Well… how the fu… how should I know? He only bought me a short time ago and why would he tell me his first name anyway? You think he would just introduce himself… ‘Good evening Mr. Slave. My name’s blah, blah, I hope you will like your stay here’… Ha, like I care to try and find out anyway, like we would ever be on first name basis he and I…" A laugh interrupted his rants. "OK, OK, I understand… jeez… So, do you know anything else about him then? What does he work with?" Taven silenced, a bit caught off guard at the man’s good-natured laugh. "Uh… yeah, he’s… he’s a bodyguard." "Really?" The policeman turned the radio on again." OK, Nandy, got some more info here, a man named Roth, working as a bodyguard? Yes… yes… Aha… Yes, I know where that is, OK, thanks Nandy…" He turned to Taven again, smiling. "Well, we’ll get you home then." Taven’s nervousness increased considerably as they neared Roth’s street. Taven had been here once before when Nikal had visited Roth for some reason, but then he had waited in the car. And it had only been that one time, and Taven was terrible at remembering places. It would look very strange if he didn’t even know the right street door. He couldn’t help a sigh of relief when the policeman pulled the car off at a block of buildings and Taven at once recognized the pizza joint. Yes, he remembered now, Nikal had walked inside the door just beside that pizza place. "There it is!" he cried out and shook his head in the direction of the door, feeling very frustrated about not being able to point it out, cuffed as he still was. Taven thought it was a very good thing that he had recognized the door, because he wouldn’t recognize anything else, and wouldn’t even know on which floor Roth lived. He hoped the policeman wouldn’t wonder at him shuffling along behind him, and think him only apprehensive about facing his master. And he prayed to every God there might be that Roth would just play along. The policeman suspected nothing; he stopped outside a front door and rang the bell. Taven felt a churn in his stomach, what if Roth wasn’t even at home? But he was, and he looked more than surprised as he opened the door. "Excuse me? Has something happened?" he asked, and then he discovered Taven, "Taven? What’s this all about?" The policeman put up a stern front. "Now, Mr. Roth, there’s no reason to be upset. The kid explained it all to me, he simply lost the money and was afraid to go back, and then he got lost. Nothing to it, I’m quite sure he didn’t do it on purpose, and a few cents is nothing to punish the poor thing for, is it? I’m sure he’ll be more careful in the future. It is your property Mr. Roth, but I’d rather not see this kid beaten for such a measly reason." Taven and Roth both stared at the policeman in astonishment at this defense speech. Roth because he hadn’t a clue what it was all about of course. Taven because he couldn’t believe a free man would go through such trouble to save a slave from a beating. Suddenly he actually felt ashamed about lying to the man. Roth gave Taven a look not too kind, and there was both a warning and a promise of a scolding later on in it, but he never the same seemed to get it that there was something wrong. Maybe from the desperate pleading look in Taven’s eyes? In either case he played along. "I’m sorry if he was any trouble officer, and I’m grateful for you finding him and taking him back. You don’t have to worry. This slave loses things all the time, and he would get lost even if this town only had one street. I suppose it’s my own fault for sending him out to… on an errand, thinking that he actually could manage it. But there really is nothing bad in this good for nothing little… Well, so I won’t beat him, I promise. You hear that slave? Now get your ass inside before I change my mind." The policeman took the handcuffs off of him and Taven slipped inside the door. "Well, that would be all then Mr. Roth," he said touching his cap as a good bye gesture before turning to Taven one last time. "You’ll be all right, kid?" Taven nodded feeling his ears go hot with shame. "Yes Sir, thank you for helping me, Sir." The policeman smiled and left. Where, Taven thought, where had all the people like Nikal, like Jan, like Roth, like Dr, Cordoux, like that policeman been all his life, where? >>> * <<< Roth closed the door with some annoyance Taven noticed. "You had better have a damn good explanation to this. What the hell are you doing running around downtown all by yourself? Where’s Nikal? Did you just leave the mansion? What? Has Nikal been on your case about something, and you decided to take your stubborn, rude and spoiled self on a little runaway trip? Well, have you nothing to say for yourself?" Taven grew hot from pure anger. "As if I can get a word in. I haven’t been running, and if I had how shit stupid would I be to let the fucking police take me to you? Master Nikal is not angry with me," he silenced and gulped, "at least… at least he wasn’t, and…" Suddenly it all really got to him, and he sank to his knees all shaky, having a real problem with keeping the tears at bay. "Damn Mr. Roth it was the worst nightmare… the police, the police took Master Nikal… they… they arrested him. Can they do that? Can they really do that Mr. Roth, I mean he’s a clan lord, can they really do that?" Roth still didn’t understand a thing. "The police arrested Nikal? Why? What on earth for? How come the policeman who brought you here didn’t say anything about it then, and why did you tell him I owned you anyway?" Taven looked up, all teary eyed, but still couldn’t help smiling widely and proudly at the memory. "He hit him Mr. Roth. Master Nikal hit him good, bashed his fucking face in, there was blood everywhere. Oh you should have just seen it… that was… sooo awesome. And Swift like three times bigger than Master Nikal but he didn’t stand a fucking chance. Oh I was just… you know? With one of those high kicks… incredible…" Roth stared wide-eyed at him. "What?" He leaned over Taven and got him on his feet walking him into his living room. "Now we are going to take this from the very beginning, and you are going to tell me exactly what happened, every detail, you hear?" >>> * <<< Roth had sat down at his couch and pulled Taven down beside him. He had patiently listened to Taven’s explanations, however incoherent they seemed at times, cutting him short now and then to ask a few questions, and finally he had the whole story. Roth sighed deeply and leant over to rub at his temples. "I can’t believe this, I can’ believe Nikal did that! The stupid son of a… If he had just… I would have… Oh shit! And you have no idea what precinct he was taken to? No of course not! That’s all right Taven, how can you know." Roth sighed again. "Well, we’ll just wait a while, Nikal will probably try to call me as soon as he can, if not, I will have to start to call every police station in town I guess. Jesus, what a day. I must have me some coffee." Roth rose from the couch, looking down at Taven, "you want some too?" Taven looked up. "Uh? Me? Uh… no…" "All right…" Roth went out into the kitchen, getting the coffee jar from the cupboard and plugged the coffee maker in. How in God’s name could Nikal have done something so stupid, and what did this mean for his plans with the police? They couldn’t really lure Swift into a set up right now, could they? Because according to the redhead on his couch, Swift was in hospital. Roth cast a glimpse at the phone on the wall; Nikal would surely call him any minute now. Who else could he call? Roth was startled out of his musings by a loud scream coming from his sitting room, he let go of the coffee jar and rushed back, finding Taven pressed into a corner, eyes large, clawing at his arm as if ants were crawling underneath the skin of it. "What the fuck is wrong with you? What are you screaming for?" Roth yelled, unable to quench his annoyance. "I-it… that… H-h-he came after me." Taven said, shuddering, and pointing at the couch. Roth looked where he pointed. "What… the cat? You mean the cat?" Taven nodded. "He… he attacked me!" Roth stared at him as if he was totally crazy. "Taven, that’s a cat. A cat. Missy is a 14-year-old cat; she doesn’t attack anyone. Missy doesn’t even attack mice for crying out loud. Why did you think that?" Taven swallowed and looked down, still rubbing at his arm. "He stared at me, and--- and then he--- he came up to me and gore his head into--- into my arm…" "Taven listen to yourself. It’s--- just--- a--- cat! And it’s a she, not a he! Did it hurt, did she bite you, clawed you?" "N-no… but that--- that… fur!" Taven shuddered visibly. Roth suddenly changed expression all together and started to laugh. Still laughing he went over to the couch and lifted the cat up, she settled in his arms and buffed her head into the bend of Roth’s arm as he affectionately stroke her over the head and back. "Yeah, you’re real tough, aren’t you. Afraid of a cat…" Roth laughed. "I’m not afraid," Taven muttered, "that wasn’t it, he surprised me, and--- and I don’t like furry things, and…" "Yeah, Nikal told me you have had bad experiences with rats. But Taven a cat is not a rat. She wasn’t attacking you; she was being cuddly. Cats like to cuddle. Missy butted your arm because she wanted you to caress her, like this. She likes you Taven that’s why she did that. Come over here and see for yourself." "No way," Taven flat out refused and stubbornly looked away. "I told you to come here, and when I tell you something you had better obey me, slave." Taven lips thinned. "You’re not my master." Roth silently counted to five in his head. "No, I’m not, but there is only two people in this room Taven, and one of them is very free, very big and very strong, and the other is not any of those things, get it?" Taven frowned and glared at Roth. "Yes." He finally said. "Yes what?" "Yes, Sir." "Much better, now how about you actually obeyed me as well? Come here Taven! I don’t mean to scare you, just want to show you that Missy isn’t dangerous. Come on, don’t be silly." Taven stepped up to him then and eyed the old cat suspiciously. "You want to hold her?" Roth asked. Taven backed up a few steps. "No! OK, so, she’s not dangerous. I see that now--- Sir." He turned and sat down at the couch, sulkily looking away. Roth shook his head and let the cat down on the floor, going out in the kitchen to finish up. Fucked up, doesn’t cover it, he thought. After a while he sneaked up to the door and peeked inside the living room. Taven sat stiffly perched on the edge of the sofa; Missy had stretched out on the couch beside him, a few inches between them. Taven warily eyed her as if he was prepared to run at the slightest movement from her--- but he stroke the old cat’s head slowly and carefully - with the tip of his index finger only. Roth grinned. Fucked up, and slightly nutty besides. >>> * <<< They both jumped in the couch at the signal. Roth speedily put the cup of coffee down on the table in front the couch, and hurried out into the kitchen to answer the phone. Taven followed to listen in on it, praying it was his master. It seemed it was; though Taven could only hear one side of the conversation. "…no he’s not lost, he’s here… no, he is… He’s fine Nikal, don’t worry about it… no, he’s on my couch, right now and he’s just fine… look, I’ll explain later… OK… yes… no… yes… OK I’ll take care of that… Your father’s lawyer? Why not your own? OK, I’ll take care of it… Just let me get a pen and some paper… OK, got it… uh huh… uh huh… yes… yup, got it… don’t worry… yes, right away… All right, I’ll be there in a few minutes, OK?" Roth slammed the receiver onto the wall phone and turned only to bump into Taven. "Taven! For goodness sake, don’t sneak up on a person like that! Now, get back into the living room that was you master on the phone and I have to go and pick him up. Well, shoo! I’m in a hurry here!" Roth shoved him aside and grabbed his jacket on the go on his way to the door. Taven followed. "That was Master Nikal? Really? Where is he? We’re going to go and get him? We’re going right now, right?" Roth stopped with his hand on the doorknob, turning to Taven who was right on his heels. "Right… and wrong! That was Nikal, yes, but we are not going to go and pick him up. I am. You will stay here!" "What? I wanna come too." Roth shook his head decisively. "You are not going anywhere!" "But… but… Please, let me come." "No, you stay here!" "But…" Roth grabbed a hold of the collar of Taven’s shirt and almost lifted his feet off the floor as he walked him back into the living room, sitting him down hard on the couch. "Now you listen to me, I told you to stay here and that’s what you are going to do. I don’t want to hear any talking back from you. Just shut up and obey! And you just give me one reason to think you’re not going to do as I say, and I will cuff you to the radiator. Do you understand?" Taven actually did open his mouth, but he shut it again, thinking better of it, it seemed. "I…" he looked down, pressing the words out, "I’ll obey--- Sir" Roth crouched before him and put a hand on his thigh. "Seriously Taven, you only act nicely like that instead of just contradicting me for the sake of it… well, then you are actually kind of--- likeable. Now don’t worry, I’ll fix this, and have Nikal back to you in no time, OK?" Taven didn’t look up, but he nodded, "OK Mr. Roth, Sir…" >>> * <<< Nikal didn’t look happy as he stepped out from the police station and into Roth’s car at the passenger side. "Not a word about how stupid I am, thank you very much!" he said, before Roth had even opened his mouth. Roth smiled at that, he had had a chance to talk both to the police, Nikal himself, and the lawyer, and it seemed that for once the redhead had neither lied nor exaggerated about what had happened. He complied with Nikal’s wish and said nothing while they drove out on the main street, but he couldn’t keep quiet for long. "Prison life has been hard on you," he said, winking at Nikal. "Ha, ha, very funny… It wasn’t nice, you know. There was this guy… Shaved head, a beard down to here, the biggest beer belly you have ever seen, and more tattoos than clear skin… He--- he called me ‘baby’ and asked if I needed someone to ‘take care of me’." Nikal shuddered and showed an expression which was a mix of prudish shock and indignation. Roth raised his eyebrows at that, but then he burst out laughing heartily. "It was not funny, Roth!" Nikal frowned. Roth had a hard time quenching his laughter. "No--- no of course it wasn’t… He probably just wanted to intimidate you a little though, you know that sort of guy thinks it’s funny to give an aristocrat the willies." Nikal didn’t abandon his indignant expression. "He didn’t know I was an aristocrat. I’m not exactly in any formal wear here, how could he tell?" Roth turned to look at his friend, followed the fine-boned lines of his face, looked at his pale long fingers snapping the air in annoyance, his straight back, the pride that never faded from his eyes no matter what he was thinking or feeling. His accent… Roth smiled and shrugged. "No, how could he tell…" he said, mild amused irony in his voice. Nikal had been about to say something but it never came out, he sighed and let his hands sink. "It is really that obvious, isn’t it?" he let out another sigh. "I’m afraid so." Roth grinned. Nikal was silent for a few minutes. "Uh… Roth, be totally honest with me now. Do you think that I’m a… well, a prissy snotty snob? You know? Weak and spoiled? Tell me the truth! Am I? Roth eyed his friend again through the corner of his eye, thinking about how he had sent Swift, a guy twice Nikal’s size, to the hospital with one single kick. He almost shuddered. "Believe me Nikal, that’s not what I think at all." Nikal was silent for a few minutes. "No," he finally said, "I suppose what you think is that I am a total madman? I really don’t know what on earth got into me… but even now, I… Well, I don’t regret it, Roth, I just don’t." Roth nodded. "I can understand that," he said, "I don’t think I would have either. But it wasn’t very smart Nikal. You know what’s going to happen now?" "My father’s lawyer says it depends a lot on what Swift is going to do, if he won’t file a complaint, I might be home free… You think he will?" Roth shrugged. "Who knows when it comes to that bastard? But I actually think there is a rather large chance of Swift wanting as little to do with the justice system as possible. He might not want to draw any attention to him, as things are." "Ah…" Nikal said, but then he turned to look at Roth, "as things are? What do you mean? You know something about him, that I don’t?" Roth stiffened up in the driver’s seat and looked a bit guilty. "Uh… well… Uh, Nikal, you see… Uh, well I suppose I might as well tell you everything now." Nikal listened to the whole story with an ever-deepening frown. "Roth, Really!" he exclaimed accusingly when Roth had finished talking, "you treat me like I’m some damn kid!" "I was only trying to keep you out of trouble, Nikal. But believe me, I’ll never do that again, because it seems there is now way to keep you out of trouble anyway. Besides, heaven only knows what all this carefully planning is worth now. If you hadn’t kung-fued Swift into oblivion we might have got him behind bars by now, but… now I just don’t know…" Again there was silence, before Nikal again spoke up. "I’m sorry Roth. I mean, I do not like the fact that you went behind my back, not at all, and please never do it again… but, I understand your reasoning, I understand that you did it out of concern, and… well… I suppose in a way I have proven you right by doing what I did back there… I can’t really stay levelheaded when it comes to that man. He’s just like no other bastard I’ve ever come across, the man is a monster, and… But that temporary burst of violence did calm me down a little Roth. Tell me, do you think you can get the police to abandon those plans, and back down when it comes to Swift?" Roth turned his head in surprise. "What? You don’t want me to try to get at Swift anymore?" Nikal looked out the window, and slowly shook his head. "No," he said calmly.

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