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Cold Blood

A Story by Onyx Tao

[ This story is licensed under the Creative Commons

Attribution Noncommercial Share Alike 3.0 License

© 2008 by Onyx Tao All Rights Reserved ](%5C)

Chapter Thirteen

Sea of Green

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Author's Note: Writing this series has been a true pleasure, and the comments and feedback a joy. I'd like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has commented on my writing. I'd like to mention two persons specifically: [Gedlion](%5C) and [Noisy Bob](%5C). Both of these fine fellows have chosen to write in the Cold Blood universe. I have greatly enjoyed their stories, and recommend them both. Gedlion's series is called Lexus , and the first story is [Bad Day](%5C). Noisy Bob's series is called [Dogs of War](%5C), and the first chapter is [I, Claudius?](%5C).

I hope you enjoy them as much as I did!

---

Erik moaned - or tried to, as he woke up. Despite the warmth of the fuzzy body holding him - the wolven Talosh had kept him in a tight embrace, even after, finally, he'd gotten out of the tie. His entire body tingled, and for a moment all he was aware of was how soothing the warmth was. He didn't want to move, and he listened to the wolven breathing, hoping Talosh wasn't awake yet. The wolven's breathing was slow and steady. Erik forced his eyes open, struggling to open them. They seemed curiously heavy, and slow to respond.

Talosh's whisper was quiet, pitched for his ears alone. "Good morning, Pink. Don't fret, the lassitude you're feeling is normal. You won't be able to move without a great deal of effort."

Why not?

"Curiosity," said the wolven, "I can taste it. It forms our morning lesson, my dear. It will be a quick one, over quickly, very quickly ... for you. It's something I do hope you take to heart ... and then, after our lesson, I can have breakfast. You may not be hungry." The wolven chuckled to himself, and Erik felt a thread of worry.

Erik finally managed to get his eyes open. The room hadn't changed; still wood planking and now-empty manacles. Tag was slumped, exhausted, in the breeding stand.

"You're hungry now, I know," Talosh said, wrapping Erik tighter in his embrace. "Hunger forms a very important part of this morning's lesson." The wolven released the human, and stood up. "This is a very advanced lesson," Talosh said, lightly. "Tag isn't ready for it." The wolven walked - almost danced, Erik thought - over to the bound human. "I don't want to give poor little Tag here nightmares, when chances are he'll never need a ... final lesson." The wolven put something over the human's ears, and then tied a hood over the rest.

"That's taken care of," Talosh said, in a much more serious tone. "Assuming you're still ready ..."

Erik tried to nod his head, but it just flopped a little. What was this ...

"You're paralyzed, mostly," Talosh said. "Not completely, but ... mostly." He walked over, picked up a thin wooden cane, and snapped it against his arm. It made a cutting sound, a loud thwack that sent a chill though Erik.

It reminded him of the whipping.

Talosh tossed it unconcernedly over into the furs, by Erik, and then walked over to the human. "Here we go," and unceremoniously hoisted the human up. Talosh looped rope around Erik's feet, tightened it in some kind of knot, and in a smooth movement, Erik found himself hanging from the ceiling by his feet.

"Blood rushes to the head, of course," Talosh said, picking up the cane. "Let me see ..."

Thwack! The cane impacted against his calves, right under - or over, since he was upside down - his ass. It should have hurt - stung - like a fiery brand.

It didn't. He felt the impact, and even the sensation of pain, but somehow ... it didn't hurt. There was a soft sound as Talosh tossed the cane back over into the furs. "Pain is dulled, too," Talosh said conversationally. He sat down, putting his head at Erik's. "Do you know why?"

Erik shook his head. No.

"It's so you can be gutted," Talosh said in that same friendly tone. Erik jerked away from the wolven, only to swing back. Talosh reached out a hand, and steadied him. "That's what wolven do, you know," he said. "Gut, cook, and eat humans. Well, the cooking is optional." He looked thoughtful. "As is the gutting." His muzzle parted in a tooth-revealing smile.

Wait, thought Erik. He said this was a lesson_. Not ..._

A 'final lesson,' his memory supplied. Erik looked at the wolven with growing uncertainty.

"But Lord Green said no permanent damage, didn't he?" Talosh said.

Yes, Erik thought sickly.

"I'm afraid I've convinced him to change his mind," the wolven said with mock sorrow. "I spoke to him while you were sleeping - he wanted an update on your progress. I told him that really I thought you were as accommodating as you ever would be, without ... dishonorable alterations. I suggested that I could find a much better use for you." The wolven patted his belly. "It took some doing, but ... I'm pleased to say Lord Green agreed with me, finally. Reluctantly, I'll give you that, but ..."

The wolven ran a claw from the base of Erik's shaft, straight down to the sternum. "That's the first cut." He ran a claw horizontally across Erik's belly. "The second one. I pull out the organs, clean the cavity - well, you'll be dead from blood loss within a few minutes anyway, so what I do after that really won't matter to you."

Erik tried - hard - to move, to fight the paralyzing immobility that gripped him. It produced a few twitches, and he started swaying on the rope again. "Wolven have been doing this to humans for hundreds of years," Talosh said, gently stopping the movement. "It's remarkably straightforward, I think, at least at this point. And stop jerking like that; it's only pain that's been reduced. You'll make yourself sick swinging back and forth like that."

Wait! Can I at least talk to Xavien?

"I'd say I'm sorry, or regretful, or something silly like that that, but I'm not, really, and I truly doubt you'd believe me anyway." Talosh said, after a moment. "Would it help if I said I'm really looking forward to this? That I'll think of you very fondly when I'm eating? I will, you know. You should take some satisfaction from that."

No!

Talosh paused, looking directly into Erik's eyes. "No? Pity. It's been a pleasure, mostly mine, but I hope you found something last night to enjoy," Talosh said coolly. The wolven walked over to breeding bench, and produced a sharp-looking steel knife with a five-inch blade. He walked unhurriedly back to Erik - and that was all Erik could think about, the blade and the seeming unconcern of the wolven. This couldn't be happening.

But it was. Talosh ran his hand over his arm, down to his chest. "You've probably never considered the mechicanics of butchering a human, have you? It's really a shame, there's just not as much meat as one might expect. Hardly as productive as, say ..." Talosh grinned, a toothy smile that had very little humour in it, "a bull. Now, a ... bull ... has all that muscle, around the ribs," and Talosh's hand traced around his chest, a light scratching sensation. "Humans have so much less. Meat." A finger - flesh, not talon this time, tapped his flaccid shaft. Again the toothy grin. "Not that that is useful as anything more than a chew toy, once it's dried." The hand rose, held up the soft skin of his sac. "These ... require care," Talosh said. "Garlic and butter. Sort of like snails, only ... a little more delicate. Don't worry, they'll be fine. I'll treat them with all the respect they deserve." Erik jerked again, and Talosh patted him - stilling the motion. "There. Ribs. Not much there, but ... very tasty," he said, dreamily. "I don't want you to think that I'm going to waste anything." He paused. "Well. I can't stand kidneys, actually. But other than that ..." The wolven drew in a deep breath. "Doesn't it make you feel just a little better that I'm going to appreciate you?" Talosh sounded almost wistful.

No.

"No, I get a strong sense of no from you," the wolven sighed. "Well. I am sorry," he said. "I'd so much prefer it if ... if you understood. I love humans." Talosh looked down at the Erik, and smiled again, without the teeth. It looked almost beatific. "I love you," he whispered, and then dropped to his knees, taking Erik's head in both hands. "You're going to be with me forever," Talosh said quietly.

No!

A look of disappointment crossed the wolven's face. "You're fighting me," Talosh said, regretfully, getting back up on his feet. "The time to fight is over. Accept it, Pink, relax. It won't hurt. It will be so much easier on you if you close your eyes," Talosh said, touching the point to where he'd rested his claw earlier, at the base of Erik's shaft. He paused, sighed loudly, and reached down, pulling Erik's eyelids up, across his eyes. "Really it is."

Erik would have convulsed in hysterical laughter at that, if he could have. Instead, he just felt a coldness go down his inverted body, a sharp cutting chill that had nothing to do with cold, followed by a horrible warm wetness cascading down him, the hot metallic smell as something wet, hot trickled over his lips and down, into his nose ... the rest of it streaming down him, but it did nothing to ease the sick cold sensation that ...

Another cold and oddly painless burn, horizontally this time, across his belly, and the warm wet stream turned into a flood. He tried to scream, but he couldn't breathe, he couldn't draw air into his lungs, and he thrashed for a moment before everything went away, with the strangest pulling sensation.

Erik woke up in Talosh's arms again, held close, and for a moment Erik relaxed, pulled himself closer to the comforting presence of the wolven. Memory caught up with him, though, and he pulled away, spilling onto the untidy piled furs. He rolled into a crouch.

Talosh just watched him. "It's over," he said, with an odd tone.

Why ... what ...

"You're done, Pink," Talosh said, almost hesitantly, his eyes seeking back and forth across Erik's face, searching for ... something, Erik, wasn't sure what.

The room wavered, suddenly shaking back and forth, and it made Erik stumble as the floor jerked under him. The wolven leapt across to him as he collapsed, catching him just before he hit the floor.

"You're shaking," the wolven said quietly, lowering him with infinite care down to the warm furs, laying beside him, and holding - not tightly, not even remotely confining, just holding him. "That's ... not unusual."

Not unusual?

The wolven, now was quivering - or - no, Erik realized, somewhere, it was him, he was still shaking. He tried to say something, and remembered that Xavien had taken his voice at the same time as he realized he couldn't breathe - no, he could breathe, it was just ..

The crying was interfering; he had to draw in air between the sobs. Then ... then he could talk. Or he could have, if ...

Talosh hadn't moved, but he had a soft cloth in his hand, and he tenderly dried Erik's face.

And he did it again, a few minutes later, as Erik clung to him and bawled.

It wasn't until the third time that the human managed to bring himself back under control.

Talosh didn't say anything, though, not until after all the sobs had subsided, and Erik had himself back under control. "Are you feeling better?" the wolven said finally.

That started Erik laughing hysterically again. He was alive, wasn't he? That was better than dead, wasn't it? Wasn't it? Wasn't it?

When he'd woken up ... this morning, he was just hoping to get back to Xavien. Now, he just wanted to get away from Talosh. No wonder Breaker had acted terrified. And ... what time was it now. He looked over at the window, and then to the stand where - where Tag was now missing.

"I moved him while you were out," Talosh said, letting Erik loose again, laying in the furs. The wolven got up, stretched. "You were out for ... longer than I expected, actually." He walked over to a shelf, reached into a basket, pulled out an apple. "Here." He tossed the apple to Erik, who caught it.

"Reflexes are good," said Talosh.

Was everything a test?

"You can eat it," the wolven added. "If you're hungry." The wolven considered. "Which you should be, since you haven't eaten since you got here - almost twelve hours. You should be very hungry indeed. So, eat the apple. Whether you think you're hungry or not. It will settle your stomach if it's a little upset." Talosh looked at Erik again. "It's ripe; it's supposed to be green."

Erik looked at the fruit dubiously before biting into the crunchy green apple, but it was firm and sweet. Although he hadn't been hungry before, suddenly he was ravenous, and finished the apple quickly.

"Still hungry?"

Erik nodded.

"Not surprising, not surprising," the wolven said lightly. "I think that I promised you a chance to talk to Lord Green last night, didn't I?"

Erik nodded cautiously.

Talosh smiled. "I did, I did, and ... although it may seem hard to credit at the moment, my dear, I do deliver. If you're willing, we can go up to the main house, and ... I'll have Lord Green restore your voice.

Yes! Erik nearly jumped to his feet.

"I thought that would appeal," Talosh said. "And then, and then, and then ..." the wolven said, "and then ... you can talk to him. Judiciously, I trust. He was quite ... exercised last night, so he was ..."

Talosh opened the door, and said, "Come along, Pink."

In daylight, the layout made a lot more sense. There was the long drive up the hill they'd come up ... was it really just yesterday? And at the top, instead of the single large building he'd expected, was a huge, ground-hugging complex. House Green wasn't a house, but a series of buildings, spread out over the hill - the immaculately gardened hill. No. Erik could see ... windows in the hill. House Green extended down, into the hill. He swallowed dryly. All over the hill - the roof? - humans toiled, neatening, pruning, planting. The hill itself was a formal garden, extending down to the fields ... farm. As far as he could see, humans, farming. If you ignored the three minotaurs, it could be an Imperial farm. Maybe. And were the ... the minotaurs were pulling plows? Erik stared.

"Lord Green's farm is pretty impressive ... what are ... what do you see that surprises you?" Talosh asked. "Pink?"

Erik gestured at the two minotaurs pulling a plow.

"Doesn't the Empire have ploughs?" asked Talosh, puzzled.

NO! What are minotaurs doing pulling them?

"It breaks the ground up, so ..." the wolven paused. "No, that's not it, you understand ploughing. But ..." Talosh paused, looked out over the field. "I'm sorry, Pink, but I really don't see what surprises you."

The minotaurs are drawing a damn plough!

Talosh just looked at him. "It's spring?" The wolven looked out again. "No?" He shrugged. "You can ask me when you get your voice back, Pink. Come on." He walked toward the hill - it was a good distance, but not as far as it had seemed last night, in the dark. The path they went up didn't seem as steep either, but it was steep enough, leading up the carefully terraced hill. In a number of places there were seedlings, in others, perennials were preparing to bloom. Twice they passed human gardeners, both weeding and pruning.

Talosh grunted. "Really. Lord Green is ... I wouldn't expect him to be so, heavens, concerned. If as all the rumours say, he and Lord Fog are really at each other's throats, politically speaking, then I just don't see why he'd go to all this effort." The wolven looked around. "Of course, it's not really his effort, is it? Maybe he just wants to show off his gardens. A shame it's a little too early for the flowering," Talosh said. "It's so nice when it's all in bloom ...

"Not that it isn't nice now, I suppose," the wolven said. "Don't you think?"

I don't actually care, thought Erik, walking up the steps quickly after the wolven. I want my voice back. I want to get away from ... from ... but he couldn't quite bring himself to think about the morning's events. About being killed.

No. He'd faced being killed in battle time and time again.

This morning, he'd been butchered, bled out like ... like ... like a deer or pig or bull. Or ... he'd thought he'd been. He'd felt the cuts, felt the blood and guts spill out of him, pulled out ...

Only now there wasn't even a line, nothing to indicate what he'd been so sure had happened, was happening, ... he looked ahead, up about five steps where Talosh was setting the pace. Had it happened? In some sense the answer had to be _ no _ simply because he was here, walking up the hill, feeling the sun on his skin, the cool spring breeze and the scent of tended earth, and plants, and even the faint sourness of his own sweat.

But if it hadn't happened why did he remember it so vividly?

Was this why all the humans seemed terrified of Talosh? Breaker's reaction - crouching and hoping to be ignored - seemed to make more sense. Only, if that was the case, well, he didn't really feel all that terrified. Angry?

Maybe a little. Less than he really expected.

What he really felt was just puzzled. Why had Talosh put him through that ... death? How was a lesser worry, he'd seen Lord Green do things just as strange; but that still didn't answer the question of why?

That question kept him busy as Talosh led him through the back corridors and doors of House Green, through gardens of flowers, herbs, all lush and tended meticuously. Humans scattered out of the wolven's way, always carefully. Those who could not avoid him, or came on them, simply dropped to the ground, as Breaker had, clearly hoping that Talosh would ignore them. Usually, he did. Once, he stopped, kneeled, and bending over the prostrate form of a young woman whispered something - some instruction, or just perhaps a comment. She said nothing, not even acknowledging him, when he rose, glanced back at Erik, and said "Come."

Erik tried not to look at her as he passed, but the motionless form drew his eye, even as he stepped around her. Talosh hadn't even looked back to see that he was following but ... Erik was sure Talosh knew. Somehow, he thought, Talosh knew where all of them were; the slaves quietly moving aside, standing just out of sight, behind a door, choosing another passage lest they be seen, noticed, and perhaps ... what? Was Talosh truly the monster they feared?

They were nearly at their destination before Erik wondered how he knew where the humans cowered, thinking they were out of Talosh's notice.

Lord Green did not have a mere suite, as he'd had in town. Here, in House Green, he had glass-walled rooms that opened to greenhouses, or outside gardens, all full of plants and vines and potted trees. The black minotaur was pacing in a room that resembled some strange cross between a nursery for flowers and a sitting chamber, and standing near him, blade drawn, was a second minotaur, a deep gray blotched with black and brown.

Lord Green - and Erik had no difficulties recognizing when the black minotaur was Lord Green and when he was Xavien - looked up as Talosh walked unconcernedly into the chamber, Erik following him uncertainly. The minotaur was not merely Lord Green, but a frustrated and angry Lord Green.

"This is not the best moment, Talosh," the black minotaur said.

The wolven tilted his head. "Will there be a better one soon?"

Lord Green merely shook his head.

"Then this one may serve, I think."

A deep breath, and a rumbling reply of "Very well," answered him. "What business does my Master of Slave have with me?"

"First, My Lord," Talosh said in a light voice, completely ignoring the grim stare of the minotaur, "I should ask you to restore this one's voice."

That grim stare refocused on Erik. "Unwise," the minotaur grunted. "And if I prefer him dumb?"

"Then make him so when I'm done," Talosh said with just a hint of exasperation. Erik wondered that he'd speak so to Lord Green, but the black minotaur just snorted. Lord Green walked the few steps to Erik, and the human forced himself to remain still. A huge hand rose to his throat, gripped it - softly, gently.

Lovingly? Erik wasn't sure, not anymore.

Warmth radiated out from that touch, a tingling, and then the hand and warmth and tingling was gone.

"It is done?" Talosh said.

"Yes," said Lord Green. "It is done."

"Excellent, then, My Lord. My second request is that you hear a petition."

The minotaur shook his head again. "You may have whatever you want, Talosh."

"I want, My Lord, you to listen to a petition. I didn't say it was my petition."

Lord Green looked up, almost interested. "You didn't." His glance fell on Erik. "His?"

"Yes. My Lord."

A puff of a sigh. "I will entertain his petition. Is there more?"

"Why, yes, My Lord," said Talosh with a note of pleasure. "There is!"

"You are very distracting," Lord Green said - but that, Erik thought, was something Xavien might say.

Talosh just smiled, white teeth glinting in his muzzle. "But you're not curious, My Lord?"

"I am," Lord Green said. "Say on."

"Ah. I think you should double my pay. My Lord."

"Again?" This time there was definite amusement in the minotaur's voice. "Didn't I just double it a year ago?"

The wolven lifted his hands, empty. "And yet ..."

"Perhaps I should triple it," the minotaur said, almost sarcastically. "Quadruple it."

"My Lord," and now Talosh sounded hurt.

The black minotaur shook his head. "And why should I agree to this ... dare I call it adjustment to your pay?"

"Well, My Lord, that seems like a good question, but ... one I should prefer to address after the petition has been made."

The slight sense of humor in Lord Green's manner seemed to evaporate, leaving only the coldness behind. "Proceed."

Talosh looked a little disappointed, but he simply turned to Erik. "Kneel," he said, and then, a moment later, as Erik moved into that position, "Beg."

"He moves better," Lord Green offered, almost unwillingly. "I hadn't thought ..."

"I didn't," Talosh said. "Fortuitous, but not my doing. Pink, I promised you a chance to make your case to Lord Green. This is it. Go. Think of it as a new command. Speak."

Speak. Demeaning as it was, Erik nevertheless swallowed, and tried to get his thoughts in order.

"Master," he said, addressing the minotaur. After the two days of disuse, it was a little hoarse, but he ignored the raw sound and even the slight discomfort of speaking. "I'm sorry. I didn't intend to insult or upset you. I was ... I was saying ... I meant to say that ... that I was foolish - not to understand what ... what I wanted. That I didn't want to ... that." He stopped, started again. "I meant that I wanted to be your slave, Master." It was like talking to a statue, and that just made it harder. His words faltered, losing the thread of his thought. "That I was afraid of it, and ... behaved poorly. I should have listened to your warning, not been ... thinking. Please forgive me, Master. I was inattentive, and that was wrong. I did not mean ... I did not mean to insult you or your kindness. To me. Master."

There didn't seem to be more to say, and from the unrelenting stance of the minotaur, Erik wasn't sure if anything he said would have helped. The silence lengthened, until Lord Green said, "Are you finished?" and with that single cold question, Erik felt the hope drain out of him.

Talosh surprised him by speaking. "He's finished, My Lord, but I'm not." The wolven dropped down to Erik's half-kneeling position, and addressed the human directly. "I thought that was very good, Pink. Not to worry."

The wolven stood, and faced the minotaur with a smile. "And now, My Lord, the time has come for me to earn that salary adjustment."

"Oh?"

"You told me the human was gifted," Talosh reminded the minotaur.

Lord Green nodded.

"But you didn't tell me how."

"No. It doesn't matter."

"Ah," the wolven said, a long, slow breath of anticipation. "My Lord! Every gifted mage has a signature, does he not?"

"Or she, yes, but ..."

"You don't see it," Talosh sounded almost disappointed. "My Lord. You didn't tell me what his was."

"I don't know what his is," Lord Green said, in the tone of someone trying very hard to reasonable. "I could hardly tell you what I do not know."

"Yes, of course, My Lord." The wolven looked at the black minotaur expectantly.

Lord Green sighed. "Talosh, Lord Fog is ... being hunted. The Imperial Army is armed with mage-weapons such as we outlawed among ourselves long ago. The weather magic that Lord Fog and the human mages invoked has caused ... widespread disruption both in weather patterns and waterflows. Planting has been disrupted; now is the time to seed but ... the weather will not permit. Nor can I read the weather - it's all chaos right now, and still settling. I mentioned, I think, that armed humans tread our lands, and threaten Lycaili forces. Two towns have been evacuated, and Ruus's time is consumed dealing with the refugees. Clan Ouroborous has lost ninety-nine warriors, including fifteen warlords, and blames - rightly or wrongly - us and the Imperials. I am sorry that I do not instantly jump to whatever conclusion you would have me draw."

The wolven pointed at Erik, still holding beg. "He's perfect. He was perfect when you brought him last light night, My Lord, and he's perfect now. For some reason, My Lord, you are reacting badly to him. In a way you do not react to other humans. He is gifted, My Lord, with an unknown signature. And, My Lord ... last night, while I was with this remarkably accommodating human I became enraged at him. I."

Gifted?

"You did?" The minotaur's voice was a stunned whisper.

"I did." The lightness was gone from Talosh's voice.

The minotaur's voice regained a little of its strength, but it was still quiet, shocked and hollow with dismay. "What have I done?"

Talosh threw his head back, and howled. It was not quiet; it filled the room with the wailing note. Erik fought back an urge to cover his ears - something about the sound made him think of being alone, hunted, in the dark. The human wasn't even aware of how long it went on, he could barely concentrate on his heart, threatening to pound out of his chest, forcing himself to stay still, not to start running, anywhere, just as long as it was away from that spine-shivering cry.

But it came to an end, eventually, and Erik was aware of the sweat dripping off him as the terrifying sense of fear faded away.

"Do I have your attention yet?" Talosh snapped at the minotaur, who was now staring at him. "What have you done? You? Are you under the impression anyone CARES?" The last word was a shout - reverberating with the echoes of his howl a moment earlier.

"I care," the minotaur said quietly. "But I grasp your point, and ... you are right. Please do not do ... that ... in the house. Near the house. Near the humans. It's going to take us hours to round up the humans again, and convince them they aren't about ..." Lord Green paused, his attention snapped back to Erik suddenly.

"He didn't run," the minotaur said, wonderingly. "Does he know ..."

Talosh shook his head. "No. Are you convinced?"

"I would have taken your word."

"Head is not heart, My Lord. Are you convinced?"

"Yes. Do you know exactly what the signature is?"

Signature?

The wolven shook his head. "No. I infer it. Some sort of emotional perturbation, or ... acceleration, or ... well, I really don't know exactly or how strong or what it does, but it certainly can affect one's judgment negatively. If one lets it. Now that you know it's there ..."

"I can ignore it," the minotaur said heavily. "I have an amulet, somewhere, for dealings with Sasha and Metrios. It's probably a similar effect. Lord Fog may be able to identify the signature more exactly, when he gets here, if ... if he feels like trying."

"So, My Lord," Talosh said, with a sparkle in his tone, "have I earned my adjustment?"

"Many times over," Lord Green said. "Accepting your offer was one of the wisest things I ever did. Although ..."

The wolven looked at the minotaur dubiously. "Although, My Lord?"

"Please see to it that the humans in and around the household return to their duties," Lord Green said.

Talosh nodded. "I will, My Lord. And ... I know you need him for the time being, but ... before too long, as a reward to him, send him back to me for ... a couple of days."

"As a reward?" asked the black minotaur.

Talosh simply nodded, his gray fur rustling a bit. "When you can spare him, when you wish to show him your appreciation."

Lord Green just stared at him for a moment. "I am instructed by my Master of Slave."

"Yes," Talosh said, from a deep bow. The wolven glanced at Erik, smiled to himself, and took himself out a door on the far side, that seemed to lead deeper into the greenhouse complex. Erik watched the black minotaur as the black minotaur, in turn, watched the wolven leave.

"Lukas." Lord Green's voice was harsh and tightly controlled.

"Lord Green?" the other minotaur replied.

"Leave us."

"I cannot, Lord Green."

"Leave us."

"Lord Green -"

"_ Leave us! " the black minotaur bellowed. "I am not to be attacked in my own home! I _will have privacy for the space of an hour!"

"I can name five mage Lords slain in their own home, My Lord," the other minotaur replied. "The Lord of Waves. Lord Trace. Lord Ravenshire. The Lord of Years. Lord Moon. And I know there are more."

"It is unlikely you would stop an assassin," sighed Lord Green. "Nor am I likely to be assassinated. These days are not those days; this conflict is not such a battle."

"I obey, My Lord, but I protest."

The black minotaur - shook. Erik wasn't sure if it was anger, laughter, or some other emotion, but he managed to say, "Thank you, Lukas. I note and accept your protest. Now go. Please."

The other minotaur sheathed his sword, and then just vanished.

Erik was still staring at the spot where he'd been when the black minotaur addressed him for the first time since the cold response. "Talosh has given you an interesting designation," he said. "Pink. I don't know if I like it, but it will do, for now." The minotaur turned. "Come."

This was what he'd wanted. Wasn't it?

They, too, went into the greenhouse. Hot air scented, not unpleasantly, with earth and a touch of manure surrounded them. Most of all, though, the smell was plants, just growing things, green leaves, sweet flowery scents, deeper and sharper herbal smells, fresh wood ... and everywhere sunlight shining in through the hundreds and hundreds of panes of crystal glass on the ceilings and walls. Erik thought, perhaps, they were following Talosh but he saw no signs of the wolven as Lord Green walked carefully through the burgeoning plants.

The black minotaur paused, held aside a curtain of vines that concealed a small - or at least small for a minotaur - door, and opened it. He gestured for Erik to go through, and followed the human. The room was small - tiny - barely large enough for the minotaur and human. The smell of earth and plants was strong, although the room itself had only a stuffed leather chair up against one of the glass walls. Through the thick glass, though, were all the flowering bushes that weren't in the room. It was like a little bubble; the walls had a slight iridescent glow to them, and the wavering glass made it impossible to see exactly what beyond them. All that Erik could see were thick green plants; he couldn't even tell just what they were. The ceiling was glass, too, a flat pane of the same thick iridescent glass that obscured rather than revealed, with - Erik thought - a cone of glass above it. The blue of the sky came through strongly, and the sunlight poured into the room, warming it even beyond the rest of the greenhouse complex.

Lord Green studied the floor for a moment, and stared at a flagstone.

It rose up, becoming an irregular pillar, and then it revealed a small chamber in the stone, with a gold and silver chain, a small book bound in red leather and sealed with steel bands, and a large glowing blue gem - in a strange shape. Erik didn't really get a chance to see either of the latter two items, because Lord Green wasted no time in removing the chain, and once it was in his hand, the pillar of stone dropped abruptly back into the ground, the top looking no different from the other stones around it. The black minotaur wrapped the chain twice around his neck, and the ends clicked together.

Erik looked up at the minotaur, and the chain now around his neck. It was strange, triple links of silver, gold, and copper twisted - almost woven - together, and it was long enough to loop twice around his neck. It wasn't quite a collar, and it wasn't quite a necklace, but was striking against the black muscled pelt of the minotaur. He took a deep breath, and let it out.

"There," the minotaur said. "Perhaps that will help."

It wasn't a question, so Erik remained quiet. Lord Green stepped over to the chair - large even by minotaur standards, and settled himself down. "Come here."

Erik did, and as he reached the minotaur, the minotaur picked him up, and set him down on his lap, and the minotaur stroked the human's hair absently as Erik adjusted to being next to the minotaur. He took a deep breath, letting the familiar salt-pine tang relax him. He could feel the tension flowing out of him as the warmth of the minotaur seeped into him, slowly. The hand stroking his head gently helped, and he curled closer against the hard body.

Lord Green himself said nothing, but Erik could feel his concentration, somehow. At the moment, it didn't matter. He was just happy to be there, next to his master, finally, after ... after ...

Breaker's voice sounded in his memory. "Pleasing him is the reward," the human had said ... what - six days ago? Ten? He'd lost count. He'd thought Breaker was crazy, broken, and that ... that it couldn't happen to him. And here he was, and ...

All he needed to be happy was the knowledge that somehow he was pleasing his Master. And he was, he could tell, and that was good. Was he betraying himself? Was ... should ...

No. Erik didn't even know why he was thinking this, again. He'd decided; Lord Green might be a hard master, but ... he wasn't arbitrary, and his duties weren't hard - he enjoyed them. The old Erik might have disagreed, but that Erik hadn't experienced the sheer intoxicating pleasure of a minotaur. Was it fear, he wondered, that kept men from admitting they enjoyed being fucked? It could hurt, a little, but ... it felt so good, especially when Master was doing it. Here, at least, he wouldn't be looked down upon, or called less than a man. Lord Green was a minotaur, and if he chose to dally with a human slave, well, that said good things about the slave, from everything Erik understood. That might seem strange in the Empire, or even to the old Erik, but not the new one.

Not him. Not now. Here and now, this Erik was quietly, intensely, absolutely happy for no other reason that Master was holding him. And strangely content that he should be so. A month ago, if someone had cared enough to ask what would make him happy, what would he have said? A promotion to Commander-of-a-Hundred? Gold enough to buy himself a villa and the surrounding farms? Slaves of his own?

Today, all he needed was to lean against Xavien, to feel the soft motion of the minotaur's breath, the warmth of the corded muscle under the slick black pelt. Happiness. Fleeting, perhaps, but his for the moment.

The shadows had lengthened in the sunny cupola before Lord Green finally sighed, stretched a bit, careful not to dislodge Erik from where he was sitting. "Humans," he muttered.

"Master? Have I displeased you?"

"No," grunted the minotaur. "Not you. The human so-called Empire has sent another army into our lands, a larger army, armed with the foreknowledge of what happened in our counterattack. None of us imagined that the human generals would be so callous as to offer up six thousand troops as a feint, but there it is," the minotaur said almost broodingly. "I still find it hard to believe."

Erik felt like he'd been punched. A feint? Unlike Xavien, however, he found it all too easy to believe. Especially given some of the assignments he'd ...

He shied away from those memories, jerking a bit.

"What?" asked the black minotaur.

"I'm sorry, Master, I didn't mean to disturb you. It's just that, given what ... what I was ... what I did, Master, in the armies, it ... that doesn't surprise me at all."

The minotaur just blinked, and looked mildly confused. "Are you suggesting that they were attempting to ... hide evidence of their transgressions? Eliminate the ... units, I suppose, responsible for their atrocities?"

"No," said Erik. "That's ... nobody in the Empire would see it that way. Unless, maybe, they'd done it. It doesn't surprise me they'd sacrifice troops, if they thought it would buy them an advantage. That's what I meant, Master."

"Oh," said the minotaur. "How sad. Perhaps ..." he paused, thinking. "And yet ... but this is for another time, really. More pressing issues must be dealt with before that old problem is reexamined. One of which," the minotaur sighed. "I must address now.

"Did you, human, understand what Talosh said to me earlier?"

"Not entirely, Master."

The black minotaur nodded. "No. And yet I need you to understand it. I mentioned you were valuable to me, I think."

"Yes, Master."

"You have a gift - something like magery," the minotaur said. "And in the hands of a mage like myself, you serve as a focus, simplifying the complex workings of magic, and in some cases, permitting a work to proceed without my direct attention. We term such a human - or a minotaur, for that matter, a lens. It is more complex, because any mage may serve as a lens, but the opposite is not true - a lens need not be a mage. Do you understand?"

"I think so, Master. You're saying I'm a lens."

"Yes," the minotaur said. "And at the moment, I am Xevian."

"I ... yes. Xevian," Erik said. Using Master's name was still uncomfortable, but Erik forced himself to. If that was what his Master wanted, then ... then that is what he would do.

"Good," said Xevian. "Like a mage, a lens leaks magic into the world. It is ... do you understand what I mean by that?"

"No, I don't."

"Unsurprising," said the black minotaur. "You should not have to know. I know it; that should be sufficient. It should have been my concern. And ... in that, I failed. Badly. To the extent that now I'm having to explain it. Every mage - and lens - has what we term a signature; this is the form taken by the leaked magic. In my case, plants around me are encouraged and strengthened. They grow faster, larger, and better."

"Is that related to your being called Lord Green?"

"Yes," Xevian said simply. "Now, as you are a lens, you, too, have such a signature. Usually such things are small, innocuous ... harmless. Sometimes a signature is difficult to discern, something hard to notice. For any number of reasons, sometimes such effects go unnoticed for long periods. Breaker and Dog serve me as lenses, too. Breaker's signature is that dust collects more quickly; Dog causes salt to precipitate out of water. Small, tiny things, hardly worth noting. More powerful mages have more ... notable effects. Lord Fog, as an example that leaps to mind, has a bleaching effect on just about everything, eroding color until there's nothing but a light gray."

"I didn't know," Erik said softly.

"Why should you?" asked Xevian, with almost a hint of amusement. "Often - usually - such strong signatures are an inconvenience or even a danger. But the small ones - meaningless."

"But mine isn't," Erik said, the earlier conversation now starting to make sense.

"No," Xavien said. "Not meaningless, for all that it is a small thing, I think it is nearly as inconvenient as Met - Lord Lash's. And his has long been thought the worst signature ever."

"May I ask ..."

"Lord Lash causes pain in those around him. It varies from mild to crippling, and working magic with him results in a headache," Xevian said. "Although headache is a poor word to describe the effect. It feels something like a small mouse lodged in one's cranium attempting to claw its way out."

"That sounds pretty bad," Erik said.

"It is," Xevian said. "Fortunately, there are ways to block it. But that brings us to your signature."

"I make people mad," Erik guessed.

"I've been thinking about that," said Xevian. "And I've asked Talosh a few more questions while I've been here. It's more subtle than infuriating, more that it intensifies displeasure or anger. I'm not entirely sure." The minotaur was quiet for a moment. "It is an unusual effect, and one that I am poorly suited to investigate. Fortunately for me, Te - Lord Fog's abilities are suited, and he may well enjoy the challenge while he convalesces." The black minotaur grimaced. "I hope."

"Mas - I mean, Xavien? What ... I mean, I'd like to know what ..."

"Shhhhh," the minotaur said soothingly. "Yes, I'm going to turn you over to Lord Fog. But he'll be very gentle with you. And ... gentle. Yes. There's a little more."

Xevian sighed, a long, slow release of breath, and he tightened his grip on Erik, just a little. "Finally, I can come to the point of this. I allowed your signature, this effect that makes anger greater, to distort my judgment with respect to you. Several times. I should have guessed ... especially ... right after the whipping. I knew something was bothering me, something was wrong ... but I couldn't think of it."

"Could the signature have, I don't know, prevented your realizing?"

"Maybe," the minotaur said. "I doubt it, though. I ... so often, most often, signatures are physical that I just ... neglected to watch for a mental one."

Erik shrugged. "You know now, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," Xevian said.

"Then it won't happen again, right?"

"No," the minotaur said with a flat certainty. "Never."

"Then ... I don't understand what the problem is, Xevian."

The minotaur shook his head. "Feral, yes, must remember."

That stung. "I'm trying!"

"Yes," agreed Xevian. "Nor was that an insult, just ... well. You are my slave, you seem to understand that." The finally hung in the air, but Erik ignored it.

"Yes, Master. Xevian." Erik took a breath, and said it. "I'm your slave."

"You obey me," the minotaur continued. "Completely. Absolutely. Without question."

Did he? Not really. Still. "I try, Master. Xevian." Erik thought he caught a faint twitch of the start of the twisted muzzle-grin of a minotaur, but it flattened out almost instantly.

"Yes," the black minotaur said blandly. "But the way we - minotaurs - look at it, we have a reciprocal responsibility to see that those who look to us are fed, sheltered, protected, and instructed. Neglecting a slave, or ... worse, abusing one, is ... inappropriate. Unbecoming. Shameful, even."

"But ..."

"And overreacting to a slave's actions is abuse," Xavien continued calmly. "I have abused you. It was not intentional, of course."

"No!" Erik said. "You can't blame ... that's ..."

"I was responsible to see that it didn't happen, and it happened," the minotaur said. "It's all well and good to speak of reasons, or explanations, or odd circumstances, but that doesn't change the reality that I have failed in my responsibility to you."

"I don't ... I don't think that's reasonable," Erik said.

"It doesn't have to be reasonable," Xavien said, "and you are mistaken. You take your ignorance of magic - for which I am equally responsible - and apply that to me. I know about signatures, I know that they can take any form, and I should have been alert to yours."

"Oh," said Erik.

"Which places me in a difficult situation," Xavien continued heavily. "So here is my question to you, human. Answer it as truthfully as you wish. Do you believe that I would ever permit your signature to affect your treatment at my hands or the hands of another, again?"

Erik didn't even have to think twice. "No." Somehow, though, Erik felt the answer needed a little more formality. "I do not believe that."

The minotaur seemed to consider the answer, and then, finally, nodded. "Very well. I pledge to you, human, that it will be so."

"Master?"

"Xavien," the minotaur replied. "Still."

"It feels ... wrong to address you that way," Erik said. "But ... what if I'd said ... that I didn't think you could?"

"What else could I do?" said Xavien. "I would have given you to another Lord. Perhaps Lord Doze or ... Lord Fog. Depending."

"Depending?"

The minotaur just looked at the human. "Depending on how strongly you felt you could not trust me."

"I trust you!"

"Thank you," said Xavien calmly. "But you have said that; that you wish to be mine."

"Yes," admitted Erik.

"Good," rumbled Xavien. "Show me."

"Xavien?"

The minotaur tilted his head to the left. "You know what I expect from you, human."

Erik took a deep pine-scented breath. "Yes," he whispered.

Xavien released his grip on Erik. "And?"

Erik slid down the slick pelt, slipping his hands onto the minotaur's massive thighs. He nuzzled the minotaur's shaft, and the pine-resin musk of minotaur surrounded him. His lungs pulled in the scent, he could taste pine in his throat, taste minotaur in his memory. He'd missed that, over the past two days, the salt-pine-musk. Found himself thinking about it, on the carriage, walking down the hill, laying next to the wolven.

And he craved it now. His lips found the slowly swelling head of his master's shaft, he touched it, gently, careful to keep the stubble of his whiskers from scratching the sensitive skin. The skin folded back, slowly, revealing the fullness of the head, a heavy red orb of flesh. A deep sigh of pleasure, a hand stroking his head, not forcing him, just encouraging him, smoothing his hair, telling him without words to continue - to do what he wanted, fill his senses with the scent of his master. Just the thought of pleasing Xavien - Master - was enough to make him hard himself, send shivers of thrill running through him. The tip of his tongue made the barest touch to the slick skin of the minotaur's firm shaft. Soft as silk, stretched tight across the harder flesh below, Erik opened, took the tip into his mouth.

Wet slickness and salt dripped from the slit at the top, onto Erik's waiting tongue, and he wrapped his lips around his teeth, pulled himself up the length, until his nose was crushed against the minotaur, he wanted to imbed himself on Xavien, wanted him in him, deeper, and he groaned, pulled back, and then forward, again, and again, over and over, loosing track until Xavien - gently, ever so gently - pushed him back. Erik looked up at the minotaur, stared into Xavien's eyes, unsure of what he'd find, himself, perhaps, reflected in the minotaur's eyes. The muzzle had a smile, though, slight, and Xavien's eyes held nothing but approval of his human slave.

And then the minotaur's arms were reaching down, taking him by the shoulders, pulling him up, bringing his face to Xavien's head, and the black minotaur kissed him. The bovine tongue touched his lips, slipped past them, even as Xavien positioned himself carefully for another entry, the hard firmness brushing against Erik's bottom. The minotaur didn't so much force his way in as Erik opened for him, this was the fullness he'd wanted, this was the feeling he'd craved, to be held, touched -

fucked

• and then there was nothing but the moment, taking the minotaur into him, the pleasure of taking his Master into him, the sweetness of knowing that he was pleasing Xavien, and that made it all the more intense, made the pounding of his heartbeat in his ears thunder, until the minotaur came with a bellow, sending seed deep into him, the grip on him tightening, almost hurting, and then too tight, and release as Xavien relaxed from the grip of orgasm.

Erik curled up against the minotaur's chest, Xavien still inside him, at peace.