Chapter 22

He had heard them, he had not been eavesdropping, had only happened to pass underneath the window, they had been arguing, loudly. Still he hadn’t been able to make out more than a few words here and there as Medora and his son yelled at each other. But however unpleasant it was hearing their angry voices he wouldn’t have felt that all too familiar sort of ache in his stomach if one of those words had not happen to be his name. It couldn’t have been about something that he had done, it couldn’t possibly be. Seka was very sure that he had not done anything the last days that he should be punished for but maybe Azrel had made something up? Azrel had been angry with him again, had pushed him in the dirt, had said… strange things that he must without a doubt regret now. He wouldn’t have to wait long to find out. Azrel searched him out only a few hours later and the fact that he stepped up to him with the same kind of childish and expectant smile as he had done a few days ago did not make Seka less worried. "You had better like this Seka," he grinned, "because it wasn’t easy to talk papa into it." Seka thought it some sort of miracle that his master could be talked into anything. But it seemed that no matter Lord Medora’s strength and power he could not say the simple word ‘no’ to his son. Seka said nothing but waited nervously for Azrel to reveal his plans. Azrel smiled even wider. "I’m going hunting, all on my own, I’ll take a few horses and stay out for a few days, camping in the woods. I thought I would get me a stag, one with nice horns. Never taken down bigger game before. That’ll be great. And you are coming with me." Azrel paused and seemed to wait for a reaction. Knowing Azrel Seka thought that giving him a big smile and thanking him on his knees for this generosity was the reaction that Azrel was hoping for. And he was considering if that would not be the best thing to do but it didn’t come fast and naturally to him and Azrel got a little bit of a frown. "Come on, you like the woods I know you do." Seka slowly nodded, of course he did. And it did sound kind of wonderful, staying out a few days; he would like that… it was being all alone with Azrel that worried him. Why had Azrel gone to such trouble to arrange this anyway? Seka understood as much that it wasn’t Azrel wanting to go on a small hunting trip that had caused the argument he had heard earlier, it must have been about taking him along. Seka could very well imagine that Lord Medora had said no at first to such a silly idea. Not that his master did not know that he wasn’t exactly born and raised in luxury, Medora knew he could manage a camp out in a spring forest just fine. That wasn’t it. But no matter what he had been before, no matter what he still might be deep inside, he was required to play the part of a frail, bejeweled, silk clad bed-warmer now and it would simply look strange to let such a creature assist his son on a hunt. That was just not appropriate. Still, Azrel had insisted, why? One side of him thought that maybe Azrel wanted to make it up to him that he had hurt him. Another side of him was convinced that Azrel just wanted an opportunity to hurt him even more. He knew that he was thinking too much, that he shouldn’t think at all and that Azrel soon would have no more patience with his sullen silence, seemed he was intent on appearing good natured today though. "I would even let you take a shot or two," He smiled, "What do you say about that, ha? Don’t tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that, I’ll let you prove to me that all that talk about shooting flying birds wasn’t just empty talk." Azrel grinned happily and generously, no he wasn’t impatient at all today it seemed. And he would let him hunt too? That was really wonderfully generous and nice of him. It really was, Seka really thought it was, still he could feel nothing but bitterness as he finally answered trying to make his voice as blank of emotions as possible. "Thank you Master Azrel but… I don’t think I’ll be able to hold a bow right anymore…" he whispered willing his dead fingers to move knowing he would get no response from the damaged nerves. Azrel’s eyes got darker and he leaned over him to hiss in his ear. "You just won’t let me forget about your damn hand, will you? You blame me for it, don’t you? Don’t you? It wasn’t me crushing your fucking hand, you hear me? I didn’t do that." The last was roared in his face and he reacted instinctively at the anger, going to his knees and protecting his head with his arms. He didn’t even feel ashamed about his pathetic cowering, only wished that he would not shiver so much. Azrel got all silent and Seka could see his booted toes of his left foot scraping on the ground, making a crescent pattern in the gravel. Seka thought he would either order him to stand up again or start to hit him… or worse of all, kick him, he was especially scared that he would kick him. But he got quite surprised as Azrel crouched down beside him. "Hm… you didn’t mean it like it came out, did you?" he said slowly and Seka nodded eager to agree even if it wasn’t exactly the truth but if Azrel didn’t want to hit him and save his pride at the same time he was sure not going to object. "You didn’t intend to be rude, right? Good. It’ll be fun, you’ll see. We’re going early tomorrow morning, be ready by sunup. And do find something else to wear, will you?" he added grinning like the sun and raising a hand to caress his naked shoulder where the flimsy silk had slid down to bare it. >>> * <<< It felt good. When they got deep enough into the forests to not hear anything else than forest sounds and the noise they were making themselves as they let the horses follow the deer paths at their own pace, reins hanging lose, good to smell nothing else than fir and wet moss. Back home most of the villagers had not been fond of spruce woods, thought they looked gloomy and dark. Thick growing spruce didn’t let much sun down to the ground, that was true and killed off most greenery and plant life except moss, fern and mushrooms but he didn’t believe the stories about ill minded wee folk living in between the lichen covered boulders. He’d sure never seen any and he’d spent a lot of time in woods like these. He looked about him with a deep sigh, these woods, they looked exactly like the woods at home and suddenly it all felt kind of too good. Better not think like that. This little trip was an exception, he could not hope for things like this to happen often, if ever again, and to suddenly start thinking of home was really stupid. It could do him no good. He had used to crawl inside that brick pipe in the garden of the Medora villa with the sole purpose of being able to remember but since he had been discovered at it he had worked pretty hard on the absolute opposite… to forget! After a while other kind of trees than only spruce began to appear and with the variation the woods became both brighter and greener at places. Azrel stopped by a small clearing next to a creek and announced he had chosen it as their campsite. They weren’t really far from the estate at all, one or two miles at the most but it felt like they were days away from any sort of civilization. This place looked like no human foot had ever trampled its moist grounds. The trees were huge and their powerful roots coiled up from the ground to create arched bridges over the creek. Long green-gray stripes of beard lichen hung from the branches like the tattered curtains of a house abandoned for centuries. Azrel must have been thinking the same. "Look at this," he said and touched at the thick weave making it sway, "I wonder how long this has been growing? You think we’re the first to ever come here?" Seka shrugged. "I don’t know Master Azrel, maybe," he replied, taking the saddle off his horse with one hand raising a knee to steady it against something until he could get his whole arm under it and carry it over to where Azrel had put his. One-handed or not, Azrel had preferred leaning back against a boulder to admire the decaying beauty of this ancient part of the woods while Seka did all the work setting up camp. Seka expected no thanks as he laid out Azrel’s ground sheet and blankets for him, as he got a fire going and served Azrel some of the food they had brought. He didn’t expect it and didn’t get it. After all, Azrel had not invited a hunting partner but had been bringing a slave to serve him. Bed-service included Seka understood as it got duskier around them and Azrel told him to come and share his bed for the night. It was chilly and Seka was grateful that Azrel did not force him to undress more than what was needed to get to penetrate him. Azrel had him on all fours under the blanket at first to get good leverage and Seka leaned on his elbows and pressed his arms to his ears trying to block out the grunts they were both making. Somehow it seemed almost sacrilegious to him to disturb the silence of these woods with such sounds. After a while Azrel laid them both down on their sides and just kept rubbing himself slowly against him, his cock still buried deep inside of him but without thrusting. Seka sighed, Azrel didn’t want a quick release tonight and when he was in that mood he could go on forever. Seemed he was even if Seka could not really tell, it were not only loving moments of bliss that could make time lose its meaning… Seka could not even tell if Azrel had eventually climaxed or not, the whole thing sort of faded out and Azrel did not pull out, just let his cock slowly shrink inside of him as he hugged him close, breathing warm air at his neck. Seka hoped he would get to sleep now but no such luck, Azrel wanted to talk. "You know what Seka?" He whispered, his voice vibrating against his earlobe, "I’ll tell you a secret. No one knows yet except the closest family, it will not be officially announced until we return in fall," he made a dramatic pause, "I will get married. What do you think about that, not bad, ha? Come winter I’ll be a married man. I’ve met her a few times already; she’s a really nice girl. Not as pretty as you are of course but I really like her." Azrel chuckled in his ear and Seka wasn’t sure if that last comment was supposed to be a joke. "Papa is giving us one of the estates as a wedding gift, not this one, unfortunately since I like this place the best, but a smaller one further south. As soon as we get back I will prepare for moving out. Isn’t it all just exciting?" Azrel was going to move out? He wouldn’t have to serve him anymore? "It’ll be great. Me, a married man… that’s something, isn’t it? There’s so much I can do now, like for example… keeping a catamite of my own." Seka felt a chill up his back as Azrel hugged him harder. "Papa just have to tire of you some time. Maybe I could persuade him to give you to me, you know, as a part of the wedding gift. Would you like that? I wouldn’t keep you like he does, I wouldn’t infibulate you." Azrel silenced and his hand crept up to touch at his throat to caress it, to squeeze it a little. "No, you wouldn’t, would you? You wouldn’t like it no matter how good I treated you, would you? Well, too bad you don’t have any say in the matter." The grip at his throat tightened, not so much it hurt him but his heart still beat faster in fear. "Master Azrel I…" Azrel cut him short. "Oh shut up, " he growled and pushed him out of his arms, "go to sleep!" Azrel turned away from him and pulled the blanket over his head. >>> * <<< Seka wondered if he could actually learn to shoot with his hand being like it was. Maybe it was possible if he could get to practice enough, but that was of course a total impossibility. Azrel did not let him near the bow anyway but he proved otherwise to be true to his word of letting him be involved in the actual hunt. Early in the morning they left the horses and the equipment to quietly walk into the forest and seek a prey out. Seka had seen his master practice sword play with his son on a few occasions and he would be the first to admit that he knew nothing about how to use a sword. He’d never touched one in his life but you didn’t need to be an expert to see Azrel was a natural with it. Seka had gaped in wonder at his speed in making cunning moves and avoid his opponent’s. Had admired his strength, agility and energy. Had been amazed at seeing even Lord Medora having problems with defending himself against Azrel’s furious yet skilled attacks. Azrel would no doubt become a splendid warrior, Seka thought, which was good because he was a lousy hunter. It was not like these people didn’t hunt, they did, quite often. But they usually didn’t hunt like his people did. Or maybe this was the way of noble people no matter where they were from? After all, as a free person he had known nothing about the nobility of his own land and now as a slave he knew nothing about the simple people of this land. What he knew was that when Lord Medora and the likes of him went on a hunt they didn’t try to track down the game. They scared the game out. Last summer he had witnessed such a "hunt" from afar. They had sent more than a dozen slaves into the nearby woods to make as much noise as humanly possible and the lord and his guests had been waiting on horsebacks out on a field to take down whatever panic struck beast had been forced out in the open. That had not been a hunt, he had thought looking on in repulsion. That had been slaughter and he had not been able to look on in the end but had walked away feeling hot tears prick at his eyelids. Deer or people… just scare them out and slaughter them… No matter how many such hunts Azrel had been attending this way of hunting he knew nothing about and it was quite obvious that he knew it too. And not that he stooped to ask Seka’s advice but he nevertheless kind of let him do it all. Seka took over the tracking trying not to make it appear as such while Azrel let him do it, even urged him to do it, at the same time as doing his best to ignore the fact as well. It was silly really; after all, no one saw them here. The interaction between them was comical even Seka thought, only it wasn’t funny really. It felt like Azrel was always playing games with him without telling him the rules first but with the non outspoken assurance that there would be hell to pay if he broke them. The stag Azrel was dreaming about did not turn up but well a small deer, it had been well within shooting range and it was an easy shot really, Azrel missed anyway and it fled on light feet and was soon long gone. "What?" Azrel snarled, turning to Seka, "you think I need another one of your lessons in archery?" Seka just knew Azrel would smack him if he even tried to answer that and drew back shaking his head and looking down. Azrel’s mood luckily improved considerably as they were able to return to their camp by sundown with a hare and the biggest and fattest grouse Seka had ever seen. He wished he had been able to hunt these woods as a free man, they were richer in game than he had ever seen back home. Azrel had been in a good mood the rest of the night and told him that he was impressed at his skills of roasting smaller game over an open fire. The prepared bird had been delicious. He must have meant it, Seka thought, because he had eaten most of it, Seka was happy that he had the much smaller hare to eat from too or he would have gone hungry to bed. He had to share Azrel’s blankets that night as well but Azrel didn’t use him, he only put his arm around him seeking his warmth against the chill. Like that it was kind of nice Seka thought, he could live with that. On the whole this day had not been all that bad. As they woke up the next morning Azrel told him that he would try his luck today too but that tomorrow they would be going back home. He had promised not to be gone too long. But there had been no luck. They had been out almost all day but still returned empty handed towards the evening and Azrel was disappointed. It was a bit later, when they sat in silence on opposite sides of the fire that Seka saw it over Azrel’s shoulder. It stood there like an apparition, the last rays of the evening sun gleaming around its hoofs. Silently grazing between the trees on the other side of the creek. A stag, a young stag with a set of horns that was less than impressive but it was a stag and it had not noticed them. Seka felt excitement stir inside of him. This feeling he hadn’t felt in the longest time. This was the perfect chance. The wind was just right, if they only kept absolutely quiet Seka could reach for the bow and put an arrow into its heart in a second and it would never know what ended its carefree days. Seka was so into the moment that he probably would have forgotten all his manners to reach for the bow but his useless hand was harder to forget at a moment like this. No matter how much he would have liked to make that shot, he couldn’t. He stared at Azrel where he sat in silent contemplation cleaning his nails with a small stick and willed him to look up and meet his eyes. Finally he did and as Seka caught his look he put a finger to his lips and slowly lifted a hand to point over Azrel’s shoulder. Azrel turned slowly and got the picture right away. He turned back smiling before slowly reaching for the bow, rising even slower lifting the bow, his hands trembling in sheer excitement. Seka sucked at his lower lip in nervousness as Azrel aimed and finally let the arrow fly. It hit. The animal made no sound but jerked violently to the side before stiffening up like it had turned to stone. "Yes!" Azrel shouted in triumph no doubt expecting the animal to sink to the ground next and die but Seka knew it wouldn’t. He wasn’t at all surprised as the stag startled once more at the outcry and then took off with the speed of lightning. The arrow had hit all right but not in the animal’s heart like it was supposed to but much lower. Azrel had only wounded the stag. The surprised look on Azrel’s face was hilarious really but Seka didn’t feel like laughing at all. He was quite sure Azrel would have shot him if he had done such a thing and he wouldn’t have missed his heart at this distance. Seka tried very hard to appear invisible but it was quite unavoidable that Azrel would let out his perplex embarrassment and disappointment on him. Azrel threw the bow away and grabbed at his arm, jerking him to his feet. "You thought that was really funny, didn’t you?" he spat. Seka did not try to answer that; he didn’t try to avoid the stinging slap that brought him to the ground either. He thanked the Gods that Azrel seemed satisfied with the one blow. At least he didn’t touch him again as he sat on the ground feeling at his mouth, blinking the pain tears out of his eyes and trying to shake the dizziness off. That had not been pleasant but he had expected something like that and didn’t get really scared until Azrel grabbed at him again to get him on his feet. "I… I’m sorry Master Azrel, " he begged, "I wasn’t… wasn’t…" "Shut up!" Azrel cut him off sharply, "can you track that stag down? Well, answer me, can you?" He blinked. "Uh? Yes… I think so…" "Then let’s get the horses ready and we’ll go find it." >>> * <<< Seka thought it madness to go after the wounded stag this late at night, soon it would be too dark to track anything down but he simply did not dare to go against Azrel. They spent the night wrapped up in the saddle blankets, only a short distance from their original camp and as soon as the first rays of the sun hit Azrel in the face he was up and harried Seka into looking for signs. Seka thought the whole thing stupid. That had been a young and strong animal it could probably run a long distance before being tired out by its wound and it had a good head start on them too. And even if he didn’t doubt that he would eventually find it there was simply no use in tracking it down. They didn’t need it to survive, they would get too far away from the camp, they would be late home and Lord Medora would not be in a good mood about that when they finally did return home. But he understood as much that this had nothing to do with practical matters. This was a matter of pride and of free men’s pride he had no conceptions and he would be best off keeping his mouth shut and obey like a good slave should, and that’s what he did. At nightfall Seka found it. It was dead. It was lying on its side the arrow still protruding from the wound; it didn’t appear to have bled much. Azrel looked at it with a sort of blank expression. Seka thought Azrel might find the moment rather anti climactic. What had he expected? The stag alive and waiting so that he could get his revenge on it for running from him? So that he could kill it properly to show what a man he was? "There’s really no use in gutting it and bringing it back, ha? Not even much use in taking those small horns," Azrel said, "well… I guess we’ll spend the night around here… somewhere, we’ve managed to get quite far from the camp I would say. Better hurry on back home tomorrow, papa will get angry…" >>> * <<< Seka’s first reaction at the rude awakening had been that of frightened surprise. Why would Azrel kick him awake? What had he done? But he realized his mistake the second after when the kick made him bump into something big and warm next to him. Azrel was still at his side; it wasn’t Azrel kicking him and that made him even more scared, freezing in absolute horror. As he opened his eyes to look up Azrel was making annoyed and grumpy noises beside him but they were soon enough swallowed up by a startled, choked sound, Azrel must have looked up too. There were men standing around them, shabby looking men, armed men. Several sword points gleamed in their faces. Bad toothed grins, striped wisps of hair and slouchy hats forming a circle above them. "Such luck and that already on our first day here," one of the grinning men said and the others agreed. Seka was too confused to make out how many they were and even if the man’s words struck some cord within him for some strange reason he couldn’t gather his thoughts enough to figure it out, he was still frozen with chock. So was Azrel it seemed, he was as quiet and still at his side. Then it all happened so fast, before he knew it arms reached for him and pulled him up and away and as he was held, his arms brutally bent up along his back he could see the other men reaching for Azrel. They did not manhandle him too badly, they didn’t need to, they were too many for him to be able to resist them. As Azrel’s frozen state wore off and he started to fight them they only laughed and closed in on him, bringing him to the ground, holding him down while yet another man fetched ropes. Seka heard them taunt Azrel’s outcries of anger and his indignant yells were tinted with desperate fear and Seka wondered not at it. He was scared to death himself but didn’t try to fight the single man holding him still. As he was trying to make some sense into what was happening he started to understand what it was about these unknown men that never the same felt so familiar. It was the way they spoke. He hadn’t heard it in years, he didn’t quite speak it himself anymore having slowly adapted to the accent of his masters but that was definitely his language spoken. These were men from his land. His people, here in enemy land and they were obviously not slaves. He was stunned. It was a matter of minutes and Azrel lay helplessly bound and gagged at the ground. That was an inconceivable sight in itself and didn’t make him less confused. The man that appeared to be the leader patted the shoulders of the men standing closest to him and congratulated them on a "good hunt" and when they were through congratulating each other he turned to look at Seka. And even if the man was still smiling the look made him want to throw up. "What about the little one?" the man holding him asked as he was shaking him a bit. The leader’s face changed into a stern mask and he didn’t hesitate on the answer. "Too small and weak, slit his throat!" This could not be happening. He refused to accept that it was happening. That man could not have said those words, and that other man could not be changing his grip on his wrists to twist a hand in the collar of his shirt while his other hand searched for the knife in his belt. He could not have survived all this time; survived war, execution and rape after rape after rape… only to be killed by a single slice of a knife. He just could not accept it. He started to scream at them, yell at them. To try and make them understand to try and make them see… See what? He really didn’t know. What reason were there really to spare him? None. But he was at least a fellow countryman, shouldn’t that count for something? He grasped at that thin straw and babbled like a maniac, all he could think of. All the names of any place back home he had ever heard of. All the people he had ever known the name of. And the more he rambled and ranted the more the old tongue came back and the man who held him held his knife and stared at him in astonishment. And he started to hope and stuttered in his eagerness to remember more names, any names. Suddenly the man who had so coldly ordered his death stepped up and tore him out of the other man’s hand. "What? What did you just say?" Seka shook his head in desperation trying to understand what of all the things he had been rambling had made the man react. "Did you say Maver?" the man asked shaking him. Seka nodded with the same frantic desperation. "Yes, yes Sir, Maver, he was the blacksmith… in … Saemsie?" "You’re from Saemsie? You knew him?" Seka nodded "Yes, yes sir… I mean… no, not from Saemsie, but I was born only a few miles from there and… yes, I knew him… not that closely… but everybody knew him… he… he was the blacksmith…" The stern face in front of him suddenly changed expression all together and a wide grin split it to reveal a set of yellowish pointy teeth. The man laughed and turned to look at his men over his shoulder. "You all heard that? The boy’s a friend of Maver’s," he turned back still grinning like an old wolf. "Well, a friend of Maver’s is a friend of mine. How did you end up here then boy?" Seka looked away, all flushed, and thought that he had probably never felt more ashamed at what he was than right now. "I… I was taken prisoner in the war." He whispered and hoped they wouldn’t ask any details. "You’re this man’s slave?" the leader asked looking over to where a few of his men kept guard over a tightly tied up Azrel. Seka nodded without being able to meet the man’s eyes. But he only laughed boisterously. "Not anymore you are," he hooted, "not anymore. This must be your lucky day boy."

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