Chapter 24

Running through the dark woods Azrel had almost been more scared than he had been in the hands of the bandits. It was an over all horrible feeling expecting them to follow and catching up with him at any time. The darkness obscured everything around him and several times he mistook trees and bushes for a man appearing before him. Every natural sound of the forest turned into the sounds of men following him. The simple fact only that he wasn’t at all sure where he was going made the situation even more frightening. Maybe he was going in the wrong direction and would find himself across the border next morning? But he dared not stop to think or try to see where he was. The fear hurried him ever on and not until the sun started to rise did he think he must be far enough from them to stay and rest for a while, to try and get his bearings. He sank down to lean his back against a sturdy tree trunk exhausted more from the fear that had ridden him all through his flight more than the running itself. He waited for his heart to calm down its erratic beating, for his head to stop feeling so dizzy but he didn’t dare to try and sleep. But surely he could relax a little bit now, those men could not possible be at his back. They had been so drunk, he had a good head start and unless they had a tracker as good as Seka among them they probably wouldn’t even know in which direction he had fled… he cut his own thoughts short. Of course, they did have Seka now… A rustle in the shrubbery only a few yards in front of him made his heart starting its frantic dance in his chest again. And he couldn’t believe his eyes as what first looked to be some strange creature of the forest stepped around it to halt and look at him. The ’creature ‘ seemed all but covered up in hair the black tresses wildly ruffled. But no, that was neither elf nor troll, it was Seka and he looked as rushed scared and exhausted as Azrel was. A fact that Azrel registered but did not bother to care about at the moment. The only thing Azrel felt at seeing the slave was anger. So some of those noises he had heard during his flight had been man made after all. Seka must have followed close behind all through the night. "Put that down!" he roared and made the slave jump. Seka was carrying his bow and quiver and that alone made him furious. For a few seconds the slave held on to the bow in his good hand with a white knuckled grip but then he obeyed, shaking, and put the weapon on the ground slowly stepping away from it. Azrel ran to retrieve it while roaring another order in the passing not to move. The slave didn’t, as Azrel loosened the string from the bow and went up to him he was wide eyed and shivering but he didn’t move a finger. He didn’t in any way make it a difficult thing for Azrel to push him to his back either. Seka didn’t make a sound as Azrel turned him on his belly and tied his wrists behind his back with the bowstring. But there was no doubt about the slave’s terror as he was pulled to his feet by the hair and Azrel pressed him back to a tree. He was very, very scared all right and right now Azrel really wanted him to feel fear. "You lead those men here and I swear I will kill you if it’s the last I ever do," he roared at the shivering slave, making him flinch, "Well, did you? Did you lead them here? Where are they?" "No Master… no I swear I didn’t… I swear… I ran from them too… I swear." Azrel’s red-hot fury drained away so fast it made him a bit embarrassed. Of course Seka hadn’t been leading those men to track him down. Why would he? There would have been no logic in cutting his ropes then during the night, would it? And if he had been forced to track him down those men would have been here now too. Seka wouldn’t have been so foolish as to step up to him with such intentions all alone. Azrel did not feel like lingering here in any case. He grabbed his bow and quiver and took Seka by the arm pulling him along. They stopped to rest after a while, as they happened to come upon a creek. Azrel was thirstier than he could remember to have ever been and drank mouthful after mouthful of the crystal clear ice cold water with relish. Seka waited his turn in silence and didn’t walk up to the bank until Azrel outright told him to but then he drank as greedily from it. His hair fell into the water and floated down streams a good way before it came to a halt, the strands whirling like eels in the running water. Azrel watched it with the strangest feeling, odd thoughts appearing in his mind. If Seka died, would they bury him with the hair? Most probably not, that would be like digging down money. A wigmaker would pay a fortune for that mane. He shook those thoughts, why would Seka die? They stayed to rest for a short time both leaning their backs against a tree of their own. Azrel stared at the slave who looked as gloomy and depressed as always stubbornly looking away. A strand of wet hair lay across his face clearly annoying him since he kept trying to get it out of the way by rubbing his face against his shoulder. The fruitless efforts annoyed Azrel and finally he stepped up to him and smoothed all of Seka’s hair back from his face and twisted it into some sort of tail tucking it in between his back and the tree. "Thank you Master Azrel…" Seka said softly. Azrel snarled at him to shut up and went back to his own tree. He didn’t know why but that anger flared up again. He supposed he shouldn’t be angry with the slave, Seka had helped him after all, saved him even, and none of this was his fault anyway but he was angry and before he knew it the words sputtered out of him. "You’re stupid! You know that? Damn fucking stupid. Why did you come after me, ha? Why? That was your people… you’re stupid!" And he had one good reason to be angry, hadn’t he? "You should have stayed with them because you’re gonna die you stupid fuck when we get back home and I tell them… Didn’t you understand that, ha, when you hit me? You hit a free man, you’re going to die, they’ll hang you! You should have stayed with your own people." At that moment Azrel really meant the last. Now as they were on their way home things looked different. Seka had hit him and as soon as they got back Azrel had to do something about that, hadn't he? Azrel couldn’t possibly let something like that pass. He must see to it that Seka got punished for that and he knew what they would do to him and he hated Seka right now for putting him in such a situation. Seka looked down and his voice was shaky as he answered. "I was going to die either way… I heard them talk… They… those men, they were not my people. Just because they talked the same language and were born in the same area as I was it doesn’t make them my people; my people were all slaughtered, by your people. I have no people and that was just a bunch of bandits. It surprised them that I was of the same origin; it amused them to set me free, that was all but it wouldn’t have lasted. They were only having fun with me… with us both. Do you think I could have been of any use to them, small and weak and… and… crippled as I am? I heard their whispers; they didn’t need all that much intelligence to figure out what you’ve been keeping me for. Do you think they would have had any sort of respect for… something like me? I’d rather hang than to have all of those men raping me and then slitting my throat." Azrel silenced, looking a bit stunned but eventually he spoke in a much softer voice, "All right, I can understand that you wanted to get away from them. But why did you follow me?" "Where else would I have gone? There’s nothing left for me back there. And yes, I could probably have survived on my own out here in the woods through summer but when winter came, what then? I would have starved or frozen to death and I would have risked running in to those bastards again at any time. Besides, your father would have sent people to search for me. Whether he wanted me back or not he wouldn’t have stood for a slave running away from him and he would have found me sooner or later. And then he would have flayed me alive… at the very least…" He choked out and couldn’t speak for a long time. "I know… know… I’m as good as dead but I thought… that maybe you could…find it in your heart to forgive me Master Azrel and… and if you couldn’t then… hang… hanging might still be the least horrible choice, at least if it’s fast… if… if you could… Could you make them snap my neck and not let them haul me up?" Azrel looked away and didn’t answer that and yet again the glade was silent until Seka broke down in sobs. "I’m sorry Master Azrel… I am so sorry… that I hit you… I… I didn’t really mean to and…" Azrel turned to him all wild-eyed and cut him short with a roar. "You’re sorry? Yes, of course you are… now! Risking punishment, that makes you real sorry, don’t it?" Seka sniveled and shook his head. "That… that’s not it… I’ve no pride, if you want me to beg I will but that apology was not a part of it, I… I meant it. I’ve never hit anyone unprovoked before in my life, it’s just not me and I am sorry for that. But if it hurt… I’m not sorry if it hurt… you… you’ve treated me like a plaything all these years and you know I’m not… you know! Don’t tell me you don’t know! But only because your country’s army happened to be bigger than ours were, you have the right to treat me like an animal? You’ve both got me so well tamed I can’t even remember myself that I was human once… Back there, for a little while, I remembered and the more I think about it the less sorry I am… You’re right, I am stupid, I should have let them take you back to my land to be sold, would have served you just right to see what it’s like… But I’m so fucking subdued and weak and destroyed that I can’t even take revenge when it is practically given into my hands… You have me hanged, it’s what I deserve all right…" Azrel got to his feet all flustered, fists clenched, looking like he would leap at him. "How dare you? How dare you speak like that?" was all he managed to press out. Seka cowered at Azrel’s anger and finally just buried his face between his knees and wept. "What difference does it make," he cried", I’m going to die anyway, aren’t I?" Azrel looked furious as he grabbed at his hair and forced his head up and Seka closed his eyes at the sight of the raised fist in front his face and tried to prepare for the pain. But Azrel didn’t hit him; he let go and went to sit down where he had been sitting before, back to him this time. >>> * <<< The rest was short, too short. Seka was so tired. Young Master Azrel seemed not as tired at all. He strode through the undergrowth with elk-like strides and it was all Seka could muster to keep up. He had to for that matter, Azrel had not once let go of that hard grip of his upper arm as he walked on. They had only halted a few times, mostly because Seka’s hair had got caught in some bush or some lowly hanging branches. Azrel had untangled it every time but looked at him as if he was going to beat him up did it happen again, as if he could help it. Once he had tripped on a root and fallen, as he couldn’t break the fall with his hands he had scraped his chin and knees pretty bad. Azrel had pulled him on his feet again and given him no chance to recover; they had hurried on in silence. Azrel only talked to him once when he, very reluctantly, had asked him if he thought they walked in the right direction. Seka was relieved that he could answer that he thought they did, he did not want to anger Azrel anymore than he had already done. Seka knew he had done the right thing. Even if he himself thought that he had gone completely mad voluntarily returning to slavery. Was he mad? Maybe, or maybe only sensible. It was not like he had wanted to do it. It was not like every fiber of his being had not screamed to walk in another direction and enjoy what short time he could have had in freedom. It wasn’t like some side of him hadn’t thought it a much better destiny to die in the hands of those bandits or starve to death as a free man then live on as a slave. But in the end all courage had failed him. Freedom had suddenly turned into a terribly frightening thing. In all these years longing for nothing else but freedom it had never occurred to him that if he got it he would maybe not be able to handle it. He had really never thought that far because he had stopped believing he would ever be free. So he had followed Azrel and hoped that he would be grateful enough for his help to forget his momentary rebellion. Had counted on that Azrel really had some goodness underneath that spoiled exterior. Had told himself that his best chances laid in that course. Azrel couldn’t really send him to the ropes, could he? He wasn’t that cruel… was he? Seka wasn’t absolutely sure but he was sure that him speaking so openly about what he really thought earlier probably had not increased his chances and he berated himself for his stupidity as he fought his fatigue and tried not to slow Azrel down. They walked forever on it seemed, Seka thought they could not be far form the estate now, but he was really too tired to look about him to try and find out. He stumbled on after Azrel and was thankful now for the grip Azrel kept of his arm (as if he would run after all this) because it was pretty much the only thing that kept him going. When Azrel suddenly stopped he thought at first that his hair had got caught in something again but then he felt Azrel go all rigid beside him and before he knew it Azrel had ducked behind a big boulder and pulled him down with him. "Did you hear that?" Azrel whispered, fear blatant in his voice. And now Seka heard it too, rustles, hoof beats, men’s voices. He would have heard it sooner he thought if he hadn’t been too exhausted to pay attention, or if his hearing would be what it once had been. Azrel’s fear seeped over to him and clenched its cold fingers over his heart too. If they ran into those bandits again… Azrel would still be brought back across the border but him… They would kill him this time, no more games and no easy death like a cut across his throat. He had fooled them, stolen from them even; they would torture him to death like a traitor… And he supposed that in a way, he was. Azrel slowly and carefully peeked over the edge of the stone as the sound got closer and suddenly he slumped beside him and gave up a sigh as if all the air went out of him but when he turned to Seka his face was an expressionless mask. "It’s my father Seka… and men from the estate." Seka nodded and closed his eyes. This might mean the end of him and if ever there was a time to beg it must be now. But he was too scared to even open his mouth. All he could do was to look pleadingly at Azrel. Azrel remained as expressionless, mouth in a tight line as he got them both to their feet. Seka tried to tell himself that he had counted on this too and that he had prepared for it but how can you ever prepare… But Azrel turned him around and tugged at his arms and loosened the bowstring that tied his wrists. Turning him back he lifted a hand to push the matted knotted strands of hair out of his eyes looking almost embarrassed. "I won’t tell anyone about… you know what… because it really wasn’t that big a deal, right?" he said softly, "I promise, I won’t tell and you do know, whatever harm I’ve done you, that I keep my promises, don’t you? So don’t you do anything stupid now like confessing it yourself, you hear?" Azrel smiled awkwardly at him. "We’ll keep it our little secret." Seka nodded and couldn’t help smiling back from sheer relief. Azrel didn’t see it he had turned his back on him and rounded the boulder waving his arms in sheer joy, shouting at the men. "Azrel?" Lord Medora’s voice echoed through the woods and as the big man jumped off his horse Azrel ran over to him and flung himself in his arms as if he had been a small boy. Seka had in the meantime slowly and shyly walked up to them too, stopping just outside the circle of grinning and hooting men. These men sounded much like the gang of bandits had done but this situation was profoundly different. At least for Azrel, his head sat as loose as ever, if Azrel didn’t hold his promise. He made no effort to try and make them notice him. Seka knew it was not him they had all been looking for. He waited and peeked from under his immensely ruffled hair at his master hugging his son. There was no mistaken the relief in Lord Medora’s face Seka thought and felt that maybe it wasn’t all that appropriate that he witnessed a scene like this. Suddenly Lord Medora caught his eyes over his son’s shoulder and Seka cringed, but his master only looked at him and smiled… >>> * <<< Seka had thought that they would head straight home now as they had found them but no, Lord Medora ordered that a camp would be set up and then he had taken his son aside and talked to him for a long time. Only minutes after his master and his son had returned to the camp Lord Medora had ordered his slave away for a talk too. His master had touched at his chin and asked how the scabby wound had come about and he said that he would ask if any of the men happened to carry a comb so that he could untangle that hair of his. The rest had been a regular interrogation. Medora had asked him all sorts of questions about the men that had caught them and he wanted to know every detail about them. If Seka stammered that he didn’t quite know or was unsure about something, Medora asked again in the same tone of voice until he got an answer out of his slave that seemed to satisfy him. It had not been as bad as Seka had feared. Azrel had obviously not said anything about him hitting him. He had apparently not told that Seka had been the one saving him either. It hadn’t been a pleasant conversation either and Seka was probably shaking more going back to the camp then when he had left it. But Medora had not been angry with him. The information was not to get at Seka; it was to get at the bandits. The discussions by the fire that night had been vivid. Seka had of course not been a part of it. He had combed his hair and Azrel had kindly made a ponytail of it, tying a string around it at his neck. And he had served the men as they ate and then he had retreated to sleep under a blanket given him. But tired as he was he had tried to stay awake to listen to the men speaking and he knew that early next morning a few of them would stay to protect Azrel and himself while most of them would go on a search for those bandits. They were not out to bring them back to face any justice; they were going on a hunt. Seka couldn’t help shivering as he heard them speak. Not that he cared for those bandits; they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill him. But still, these men were talking about a slaughter and it was after all humans they planned to chase down. He fell asleep, the discussion fading out, and dreamt about the bloodthirsty hordes on the street… >>> * <<< Azrel was kind of pissed that his father had not allowed him to go with him and his men on their hunt of the bandits. He would very much have liked to get his revenge on them he told anyone listening. The two men remaining grinned and padded his shoulders and told him that he would get revenge all right but it had to be through his father. Azrel’s mood changed from annoyed and restless to anxious and nervous as the days passed and his father did not return. The men didn’t grin anymore but they still padded his shoulders and told him that it would naturally take time to find the bandits. And that his father knew what he was doing and that it would take more than a bunch of flea bitten bandits to get the best of a seasoned old wolf like his father. Seka could have told him not to worry too if he had dared speak to him and if Azrel had not ignored him totally since days back. Seka did not doubt for a minute that his master would find those bandits and make minced meat out of them. He only wished now that his master would kill them at sight and not take them prisoners and talk to them in case they might tell him what he had done. He sighed; he had sunken that far? He truly didn’t care if those men lived or died anymore. Three more days and no sign of Lord Medora. Seka really didn’t mind staying out here. The weather was nice. Azrel was too anxious about waiting for his father to return to think about things like sex and he left him alone most of the times. The men weren’t hard on him either. They knew what he was and they ordered him about a little and had him serve them at meals but they did not hassle or touched their lord’s private plaything. Seka enjoyed the time for what it was, a relief from his usual duties and a time to rest. Still he began to feel a little bit of Azrel’s nervousness. What would happen to him if the wolf did not come back? He did. The men returned near sundown and Seka watched them being greeted by Azrel and the two men, feeling as he had done all the time, that he was no part of it. And he felt a sort of safeness in being a slave at that moment, there were many aspects of free men’s lives that he did not want to be a part of and now he didn’t have to. He remembered Azrel actually admitting to him once that it wasn’t easy having to be a man either, the demands could be staggering he supposed. He sat leaning against a tree trunk as the men talked and laughed and his heart took a leap of joy as he suddenly discovered his little white horse among the loot his master and his men had brought back. He had thought he would never see him again. Seka wanted to rush over to the horse and throw his arms around his warm neck but thought such a behavior would not be accepted and remained. After a while Azrel left the crowd and unexpectedly came up to him. Seka started to rise to bow to him but Azrel waved at him to sit down again and seated himself beside him. His eyes held a boyish excited glow and the words fell over his lips in and likewise excited manner. The bandits were all dead he said, his eyes glowing, his father had showed no mercy and they had never stood a chance. The hard part had been finding them, that had taken several days, the fight had taken less than an hour. His father was pleased with them both, Azrel said. Thanks to them a problem had been discovered. These were the first kidnappers but there would certainly be others. But now they knew about it. His father would bring back that information and measures would be taken to secure the borders. And it was all thanks to him, Azrel said, oh and Seka too of course. Seka could not really feel the honor of it. If what had happened to Azrel and him made the conflict between the two countries flare up again innocent people in his former land would get hurt. He wanted no part of that. Of course if he hadn’t given his master the information innocent people on this side of the border would have been hurt. He really wanted no part of that either. How did he get so mixed up in things? He felt sick. Azrel cut himself short in his exhilarated tirade as a shadow descended over them and it was like he could feel that that it was a slightly different man who looked down at them as he slowly looked up to meet his father’s eyes. "Is this the man?" Seka knew Azrel must be staring at the object in lord Medora’s hand with the same abject horror as he was, he gulped and forced himself to look away from the thing’s contorted features. He had seen severed heads before when he had nearly lost his own. But that had been a dark heap of lumps and he had been too scared and shocked to look any closer at it. Now it was very hard not to stare at every gory detail as his master held the head of the bandit’s leader by the hair practically in their faces. Seka cast a glance at Azrel, his expression was blank but his eyes were large and unblinking and he had turned pale, no not pale, greenish. Seka wondered if he was going to throw up, he looked like he would. Seka wouldn’t have blamed him if he did, he felt pretty nauseated himself. The head smelled… oozed of rotting blood. "Son I asked you if this is the man?" Azrel took his eyes off the head with great difficulty to look up at his father and the sight didn’t seem to make him feel any better. He gulped repetitively as if fighting the nausea and remained silent. Oh yes, Seka thought, you have not seen him like this before, have you? You have only seen the father, a strict father at times but still a father. You haven’t seen the warrior, the general, the murderer… You have never really been afraid of him before, have you? "For goodness sake… well, then you tell me slave, is this the man!" They both jumped at the roar and Seka thought that Azrel would have cowered at the anger just like he did if he still wasn’t as if paralyzed at the severed head held in his face. Seka didn’t dare to look up again but he answered obediently. "Yes… yes Master… that’s the leader." Seka cast a quick glance at his Master to see him nod at the answer but he wasn’t looking at him, his eyes were still on his son and they held, for a few seconds… contempt. He snorted, dropped the head and turned to walk over to the others. Azrel stiffened and his mouth opened as if he wanted to scream when the head fell into his lap with a dull thud but he didn’t make a single sound. It was not hard to see that Azrel had to conjure up all the mental strength he had not to lose himself into a full fledged panic attack as he sat there seemingly unable to rid himself of the dead thing resting on his lap. Seka slowly scooted nearer to him and with his good hand shivering like a leaf he reached out to take a few of the wispy strands of hair between his fingers and lifted the head from Azrel’s lap. It was heavier than he thought and with a shudder he threw it as far away as he could muster from his sitting position. He leaned back against the tree with yet another shudder and for several minutes he kept cleaning his fingers on the grass beside him even though there was nothing on them. That had been mean, he thought; plain cruel, to punish his son like that simply for not being as damned jaded and cold as he was. >>> * <<< They were to spend only one final night out here before going back to estate in the morning and Seka had already prepared to go to sleep not quite expecting the order. "Slave, you come with me!" There was only cold strictness in that order, nothing else and Seka felt a churn in his stomach but rose on shaky legs and followed obediently. He didn’t know if his master sounded so cold simply because the men from the estate was there hearing them. Or if Azrel had told his father after all that he had hit him, in which case he didn’t think he would return to the glade again. Lord Medora grabbed a blanket on the go and kept walking out among the trees. Halting behind a thick shrubbery he threw the blanket on the ground and told Seka to get his clothes off. He obeyed, closing his eyes and exhaling in relief. No matter how strange it seemed to him at a time like this it was pretty obvious that his master was not angry with him or was about to punish him, he only wanted sex. It turned out to be one of those head-on things. Seka had hardly time to get down on his knees and parting his legs before his master was grabbing at his neck, pressing his face to the ground while pushing at his hole. He ground his teeth and tried to brace himself against the force with which his master used him, tried to relax before it. It wasn’t a pleasure but it wasn’t meant to be. His master didn’t want to be pleasured; he wanted a stress relief that much Seka understood. And no matter how strange he found these people’s way of using sex to soothe just about anything that ailed them he intended to help his master get what relief he could from whatever it was that irked him. A master in a good mood was definitely worth a comparatively short time of discomfort. >>> * <<< Medora flung himself on his back at the crumpled blanket and felt himself relax. The efforts of a real good fuck, breaking into a little sweat… it always did the trick. And he had really needed that right now. Really needed to feel all his blood rush to his cock and to feel all his energy and all his thoughts concentrated only on this the most basic of urges… Not to think, not to dwell on what could have happened now that it was all over and everybody was safe and sound Medora remembered telling the slave beside him that everybody are scared sometimes but he must admit that during most of the wars campaigns that he had participated in he had not been that much scared, not for himself in any case, the generals really didn’t risk all that much. That did not mean that he had lied to the slave, he was scared sometimes. That something would happen to his family was, he thought, the thing that scared him the most. And when day after day had passed and Azrel did not return and he eventually had to realize that something must have happened he had felt something akin to panic. The thought of losing his son had almost made him go mad, made him not knowing what to do, made him almost… useless. He had forcibly turned all those feelings off. He had fought that worry down and chained it to an obscure corner furthest back into his mind so that he could stay clear headed and efficient and able to give his son the help he might need. If he had not been able to do that, if he had let the fear and worry get the best of him so that he could have been of no help to his own son... well then he would not have been a real man, would he? And that was his second biggest fear. It scared him now only to remember how near panic he had been; searching for a son that seemed to have been swallowed up by the earth. It had been an indescribable relief to find him alive and well and all the worry and fear had been turned into cold and efficient hate and anger instead, at those who had dared touch his son. Slaughtering that gang of bandits as mad dogs had been quite pleasurable and had relieved a lot of stress. The remains of that stress he had now pumped into the sweaty boy lying on his back beside him slowly stilling his breathing much like himself. The boy, yes, Seka. He had worried about him too. It had been another stone off his chest when the black-haired boy’s pale face quietly had appeared behind his son. He had said nothing about the slave as he had gathered his men to go look for Azrel. He had not mentioned him once as they searched the woods. None of the men had asked about him either, most of them had probably not been thinking about him at all. But he had, he had worried about him. Maybe it had not been as strong a worry as for his son and maybe it had not been the same kind but he had worried never the same. No matter what kind of worry, it had been there and he didn’t like it, didn’t like it one bit. He thought that he might have been thrusting so hard just now because of that. That he had held him hard and fucked him hard and made it painful and uncomfortable and humiliating to punish him for it. The slave had taken the rather harsh fuck well of course. Had not protested, tried to squirm away or complained. He always did take it well these days. One of his most valuable belongings he was and he had almost lost him and the feeling he had felt at almost losing the slave might be the third thing that scared him most. Because rich as he was, surrounded by luxury, able to get anything his heart would fancy… he knew one thing, that material things was not important to him. Maybe it was easy to claim that money and fancy clothes, slaves and nice houses and any thing that men might own was not important when one was rich. It would sure mean something if he lost it all. But it didn’t mean much to him never the same. It was not the luxury of his house he had missed being away. He was not indifferent toward his own wealth, that was not it, but other things were really much more important to him. His family, power, honor, people’s respect, friends… His money was important too but if he sacrificed his honor for it then he didn’t use the money, it used him. And any possession that a man finds himself unable to give up… possesses him. Medora turned and reached a hand out to grab at the slave’s chin and turn his face to him. It was remarkable, he thought, that he never seemed to tire of looking at that boy’s face… Boy was he? Medora traced a finger along the slave’s sweaty upper lip; felt at the scarce and soft but dark hairs that grew there. He wasn’t a boy anymore, was he? Hadn’t been for a long time really, had he? It was not all that hard to ignore it since he was small, lean, soft-skinned… All that hair plucking the slave was always engaged in… it annoyed him at times but he had let him continue with it. In fact, the compulsive habit had suited him fine no matter how strange it seemed to him, because he didn’t have to face the fact then, did he? That if the slave didn’t do it "the boy" would soon grow a beard. Seka hadn’t been able to keep that up for a time now and so there they were - the hairs in his face. Soft hairs, not overly manly, would not produce much of a beard really. Medora almost smiled, no not much of a man. In fact, not enough man to bother him. But that it didn’t bother him was the fact that really bothered him. A man does not bed another man no matter what he looked like, that was just wrong. Oh he knew many men that did, there wouldn’t be young men to have at The Quarters besides the women, the girls and the boys if there wasn’t a demand for them. But deep inside he utterly despised the men who used them. And look at him now. Now he bedded this one and this slave was at least eight or nine years older than any other boy he had ever touched. And Azrel refused to keep off him too and it was even worse because the slave was three years older than his son was and maybe the age difference had not mattered that much when they had both been younger but now… Medora sighed; he knew very well what he had to do. And the more his innermost rebelled at the thought the more he knew that it was the right thing to do. The slave looked at him as he held his chin; maybe he felt something was not right? Maybe it made him forget his manners a little bit? Whatever, Seka’s eyes met his and they might very well be the prettiest eyes he had ever looked into… He saw the expression in them change from a suspicious puzzlement to fear and bewilderment as he stopped caressing his face and slapped him instead, a rather hard slap that made his head snap to the side. He angrily commanded the slave to gather his things and leave to find a sleeping place of his own. He felt infinitely much better at seeing those scared eyes fill up with tears as Seka obeyed and hurriedly but silently slid away behind the bush with the bundle of clothes held to his chest

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