Rexi and Talon

By Onyx Tao

Jack: Rexi and Talon by Onyx Tao is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at http://onyx-tao.sofurry.com.

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Talon 2

"Then he doesn't have any bad habits," the deep voice said, calmingly. It was a remarkably smooth voice, and it had a deep, soft rumble to it. Almost comforting. Almost. Almost. If Talon weren't kneeling here in his own filth, he actually thought he might like it. "Five hundred seems ... a generous offer, considering what I'm spending already."

"One thousand."

"Why? Does he have some remarkable talent or skill? He bruises."

"Well ..." said the slaver. "He's a tailor. And he's pretty."

"He would be pretty, if he didn't bruise, and I still don't see why you want even five hundred. He's recently enslaved, correct?"

"Yes. Four days ago. He's ..."

"Yes," the basso rumbled. "Since I'm paying you seventeen thousand in Abadarian bonds, you should accept my reasonable offer." Talon shook his head at the sudden, odd buzz in the voice.

"Five hundred," sighed the slaver. "Fine. You can pay ... now?"

"I can. Get the slips ready, and ... get this one cleaned up. Gently. No more bruises, if you please."

"Brat, you and Dorem do that," the slaver said, and Talon heard footsteps retreating.

Another minute, and he was pulled -- carefully -- out of the cage. After being in there for -- was it really four days? -- he couldn't have fought even if he'd wanted to, so he just let them pull him along.

Until they dunked him into cold water. That shocked him, and he screamed for almost a second before the water closed over him. Talon panicked, struggling wildly, until blackness overwhelmed him.

He wasn't in the water anymore, he was being held -- tightly -- against something, no, someone, the deep-voiced someone. The voice almost echoed in the man's cavernous chest. "... idiots! And where is the key for this ridiculous mask?"

"I'll find it," the slaver said.

"Send it along when you do," the deep voice continued, "and I'll send it back. I cannot believe anyone could be so mindfogged as to dump a dehydrated, starved, half-dead anyone into ice-water!"

"Believe me, it was an accident."

"I suggest you take some time off training your stock, and train your misclassified help," the voice said, and shifted him. "He's awake, and starting to warm up."

Talon still felt achingly cold, and tried to burrow in closer to the warmth that held him. The arms tightened just a little until he relaxed.

"I think he'll be fine with some time to recover. I can't believe you caned someone who bruises like this." The voice sounded more disappointed than anything else, but Talon just couldn't summon the energy to care.

"I didn't know he bruised!"

Too fucking bad, Talon thought, and apparently his new owner agreed.

"Desideraxus Xom, you will do much better in this business if you take the time to understand the strengths and weaknesses of your wares," the voice said. "With a little care, you could have known. And with a little more care, you could have prevented the inevitable scars from the caning. And with even the smallest bit of attention, the ... I am not sure what to call it, debacle, perhaps, of an ice-water shock should have been avoided. I hope I am seeing your business on a very bad day."

"Yes," the slaver said. "You are correct."

Liar, thought Talon.

"Do not imagine I will fail to raise these points when your father and I next meet," the voice said.

"No, of course not, Master Silvercane."

"And find that key!"

Yeah, having the blindfold off would be nice. Talon wished it were off now.

"I'll go find it right now."

"Rexi," the voice said. "Are your family loaded in the wagons?"

"Yes, Master," came a lower voice.

"Good. You will ride with me, in the carriage."

"Uh, yes, Master."

"I trust you know this town?"

"Reasonably well, Master."

"Do you know of the old Blossom Garden Estate? Near the cathedral?"

"Yes, I know where it is. I've never been inside.

"That is where we are going. I purchased it some time ago, and I've been staying there with a minimal ... company. I intend to open the entire estate up." Talon felt himself shift again, the scent of breeze and horse telling him that his new owner had just taken him into the carriage. "Only the kitchen and a few rooms are open right now, I have a few bodyguards staying there. You -- by which I mean you and your family -- will take over all the domestic activities -- cooking, cleaning, and opening up the rest of the house. I have three guards staying with me, they are hobgoblins."

Hobgoblins? That could be trouble, thought Talon.

"Address them as Sir," his new Master continued. "Do what they tell you. I expect you to bring any ... difficulties you encounter to me, promptly. Is this clear?"

It sounded pretty damn clear to Talon, and apparently to the halfling as well. Talon wondered what the slip -- Rexi -- thought about the hobgoblins.

"Yes, Sir."

"Pass on my instructions to the rest of the halflings."

"Yes, Sir."

"The only person on the estate who has the privilege to impose discipline is me," the voice said. "It is not a privilege I intend to share lightly, and my expectation is that I will never have cause to resort to it."

"Yes, Sir."

"So, if someone were to strike you ... what would you do?"

"Uh, tell you, Sir?"

"Exactly correct," the deep voice said softly. "Here." There was a faint jingle of coins. "Send someone trustworthy -- other than yourself -- to an apothecary. Purchase some soap -- rose or jasmine -- and some olive-based healing salve, something mild and preferably without fragrance." There was a pause. "Cleaning supplies, if they have them. Anything else that is needed. If anyone needs any, ah, feminine supplies, get them. I expect to see the receipt."

"Yes, Sir, but, Sir, if I may ask, Sir, why not just send me? Sir?"

A silent chuckle tossed Talon against the massive chest for a brief moment. "Because I need you to organize the cleaning and staff. You are now in charge of the household affairs."

"I ..." the halfling's voice didn't sound happy, and Talon couldn't blame him. Of course, the slip could try being beaten, starved, and frozen. He'd be even less happy, Talon thought. Not that it's a contest. We'll both just have to adapt. This was Cheliax; it's not as if there were a choice. "Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir, but ..."

"Yes, Rexi?"

"Uh, what do you have at the estate? Sir?"

"Very little," his owner admitted. "A bare minimum, in fact. I was expecting ... well, let us just say the estate is not in the condition I'd thought."

"Is the kitchen intact?"

There was a quiet space, and then, "There's no cookware, no dishes, just empty cupboards, nothing. The wine cellar is empty -- a painful discovery. The gardens were neglected, although I am hopeful that some of the perennials can be reclaimed. The kitchen garden ... will need to be replanted."

"Oh," came Rexi's dejected reply.

"But what of it?" the voice continued. "All those things can be remedied. This is Corentyn, a significant hub of trade. Everything a house lacks may be purchased. I simply need the house made, first livable, and then correctly. You have had the running of a house, have you not?"

"Yes, but ..."

"Then that is a yes," the deep voice interrupted. "And if you have issues, or problems, or face things you do not know how to solve, then come hand them to me."

"It's going to be expensive," muttered the slip, and Talon nodded to himself.

"Money is the least of my concerns," his owner said dismissively. "Also, food. There isn't any food for you or yours; send another to market to get food for ... everyone. Myself, my three guards, yourselves, Talon. You'll eat what I eat, so don't worry there. The hobgoblins are vegetarians, so ..."

What? thought Talon even as Rexi said, "What? Sir? Vegetarian?"

"They'll eat eggs, milk, and cheese, but no flesh," the voice said. "No beast, nor fish, nor fowl. They are devotees of Irori, and that is part of their devotion to maintain their purity."

"Hobgoblins? Purity?"

Talon could feel the man holding him shrug. "They are devoted, obedient, and capable. As idiosyncrasies go, their diet is a small one, and well worth their service. I do not comment on it to open them to ridicule, but to give you direction you require to offer suitable refreshment. They drink tea, so be certain to lay in a stock of that as well."

"Of course, Master, forgive me, it was ... just a surprise."

"Ensure that the remainder of your family overcome their surprise as well."

"I ... yes. Sir."

"Now, you have coin, you have instructions, and you understand the duties in front of you, yes?"

"Yes, Master."

"I trust that you will not disappoint me, Rexi. You are dismissed."

A loud tap, and the carriage stopped briefly, and the door clicked open and shut as the halfling departed.

A deep breath. "And now for you, sweetling. You are awake, I can feel it. Are you warm?"

Talon nodded.

"Does that damnable mask have a gag? I swear I'll cut the thing off ..."

"No," whispered Talon. The word came out harsher than he'd wanted; he hadn't spoken since the caning.

"Did they hurt your throat?"

"I ... I just have-haven't said anything," Talon got out. "My mouth's a little dry ..."

No sooner had he said that than he was tipped up, and there was a flask at his mouth. "Drink. It's cool tea mixed with honey. I sent the slip for salve for your back ... idiots. Idiots!"

The liquid had a slightly floral, slightly acid tang made pleasant with honey, and it was marvelously refreshing to his throat.

"That's what they do to break slaves," Talon said, and then added, "Master."

A sigh. "There are ... many ways to ... initiate slaves. Not all methods suit all slaves," the voice said. "And some do not suit at all. Brutality can be effective, but it is a blunt force to be applied with great care. And when someone is as fragile as you -- completely wrong."

Talon stiffened at the word fragile.

"I do not care how it is that you became a slave," the voice said calmly. "But you are, and this is Cheliax, and you must adapt. Ideally, a trainer helps a slave adapt. It is not ... a hopeless position, in Cheliax."

A short pause.

"Although it must feel that way to you, right now," the voice continued. "Will it help to know that I will not hurt you?"

Talon snorted.

"I will not," the voice said. "I may need to punish you -- I hope I do not, but even if I do, I will not hurt you. You need not fear pain at my hands."

"That's ... hard to believe. Sorry. Master."

The grip on him tightened a little. "After your experience with those ... yes, I understand. You will come to know if for truth. And ... I will never be unhappy with your speaking the truth as you understand it. I will punish deceit, but never honesty. Even ... when you are honest about something which deserves punishment -- your situation will never be worsened by being honest with me.

"If you do not trust me, then I must show I can be trusted," the half-orc continued, speaking slowly, as if he were considering his words.

"You're not ... upset?"

"That you don't trust me? No. Why should you? Trust is not something that one purchases, like a loaf of bread or a cooking skillet. It is an opinion, formed from experience, instinct, and thought. I can command you to, oh, fetch me tea. Command you to trust me? Why not command the waves to break quietly, or the storm abate?"

"Oh," said Talon.

"Trust is earned, only and ever. Since you do not -- can not -- yet trust me, when I assure you that I will not hurt you, you have no reason to believe me. Your experience is with those Xom fools, not Zackton Silvercane. And you would, I think, be right not to trust them. I may have erred in selecting my business partners ..."

"You're in business with them?"

"I have done business with them," the man corrected. "I have sold to them, and they have sold to me."

"You're a ..." You're a slaver, too? Although, from his comments, that made a certain amount of sense. Talon felt a tremendous sense of disappointment -- he wasn't sure why. After all, this was Cheliax, and this man had just bought him and a whole load of halflings.

"Why ... why did you buy me?"

There was a moment of silence. "To start with, Xom underpriced you. Were I to sell you, even now, damaged and unadapted as you are, I would expect to receive about five times what I paid Xom. And it ... how can I put this, it offended my sense of efficiency, perhaps, to see you treated improperly. I found you attractive, and I will need a valet. I also anticipate taking a great deal of amusement in the situation -- not at your expense, more of a ... private joke. One that would be shared with, at most, one other." Perhaps sensing Talon's dismay, he added, "A joke more about me than you."

Another sigh. "Perhaps I shouldn't have mentioned that, but ... I do want your trust. And you are sensitive enough, I think, that you would quickly realize I am amused -- and you could easily jump to the conclusion I was laughing at you. I am laughing at myself."

"Oh."

"There was ..." and the man stopped. "Unimportant. You are hungry?" Another deep sigh. "There will be food when we arrive at the estate. Plain food."

As if he cared. Any food would do at this point. "Yes, Master."

"Sir will do," the man said. "Are you afraid of sex?"

"Sir?" What?

"I don't know if you will serve me that way or not," the man said. "If you are not willing, then I will not want you."

Relief swept over Talon. He hadn't even realized that was what he'd been dreading. It was odd phrasing, though, and Talon replayed it in his mind. If you are not willing, then I will not want you.

"You smell ... very good," the man said softly, not quite a whisper, but more than loud enough to set Talon's heart beating faster again. "And you are so beautiful ..."

"I'm filthy, Sir, and I stink."

"That too," the reply came calmly. "But we can correct that."

The deep voice began to murmur something, slow, rhythmic, and oddly captivating. Talon tried to pay attention, but somehow, he just seemed to drift off instead, not quite asleep, but certainly no longer awake.