Slave Trade - Epilogue (Part 1 of 3)
Slave Trade
Epilogue (part 1 of 3)
copyright 2013 comidacomida
Choel cursed for the sixth time, quickly adding a seventh to it when he realized he'd begun repeating himself; despite his preferences for foul oaths and vulgar expletives, the tiger didn't have much variety in his vocabulary. Sticking his bloody thumb into his muzzle, Choel was forced to admit that he was not very skilled when it came to dressing down pack animals; the tiger had drawn the short straw when it came to helping Bane's ocelot, and that meant pricked thumbs, smashed fingers, and bruised pride.
"Problem with the breaching strap?" Willis asked from across the barn; the ocelot had already finished with his portion of the wagon and moved on to another project, a fact that caused Choel even more frustration. The sky had long since grown dark and the carriage house's torches didn't do much to make seeing the specifics of the wagon harness' straps easy.
"Lash me!" the tiger cursed anew, "I don't even know what a flaming breaching strap is!" he snorted, tugging at a particularly unyielding strip of leather where it connected to a metal ring attached to another strip of leather.
"You're holding it in your left paw." Willis answered simply, "And you don't have to unbuckle it... just loosen it."
Choel frowned, letting out a frustrated grunt as he opened his paw from around the leather before punching the side of the cart, "Ya know... a little bit of help BEFORE I started coulda saved me a LOT of time." He crossed his arms and threw his back against the wall of carriage house, leaning against it while he let his scowl hang free off his muzzle.
"I asked you if you wanted help." the ocelot responded, strolling past the tiger to attend to the harness without so much as offering him a glance, "Your answer was 'How hard can it be?'." Willis pulled up on a metal clasp and loosened the leather straps, letting the harness loose before releasing the draft animal into a nearby paddock.
"Not too hard if you know what you're doing." Choel grunted.
"Not too hard if you know what you're doing." Willis acknowledged, and went back to his own work; the ocelot was inspecting several damaged pieces of barding. Between occasional bouts of bad weather and the constantly breaking cart equipment the trip had not been an easy one. According to the length of their journey, they were taking three times longer than expected. Choel had recalled hearing that cross-country travel was much more difficult than by roadway and he was willing to believe it-- especially since they still hadn't arrived.
"I hope Gaius can work his magic on em." Choel noted gruffly, "It's not like we got extra leather." He didn't much care to think back on their last few weeks of travel; the trip from Pross to Vensii was not a short one and having to stay off of the main roads hadn't helped it go any faster.
"He will, or he won't." the ocelot answered simply, comparing two lengths of leather before throwing one into a waste barrel,
"What he can't fix I'm sure my master will replace." he began comparing two new pieces, "We will make due."
"Heh..." the tiger offered a simple, scornful laugh, "Still calling Bane 'Master', huh? Not sure why... it isn't like he's a Lord or anything."
"He is my master." the cat responded, "What else would I call him?"
Choel grunted in response, moving away from the wall he pushed himself back into a standing position, "Looking forward to getting to Vensii so you don't have to call him 'master' anymore, huh?"
Willis looked up from his work, turning to regard the tiger, eyes locking with his and holding him in a dread gaze, "Why would I stop calling him master?"
Thanks to the surprising power of Lord Hector's sex table, Choel had long since recovered from his wounds, but he had no doubt that he wouldn't stand a chance in a fight with the ocelot-- he had seen Willis in combat. Although the thought should have bothered him, the tiger's recently discovered sense of humility told him to accept it. "In..." Choel managed to find his voice as he looked away from the deadly cat, "...in Vensii there aren't any slaves."
"My master is not going to Vensii." Willis blinked, "and neither am I." he turned back to the work bench, "Besides... I do not call my master my master because I am a slave." Willis stated simply, continuing to inspect the collection of leather in front of him, "I have been a free man for over a year."
"Then if you're a free man you should call him Bane, like everyone else." the tiger countered, moving back to the wagon to finish stowing all of the now-loose barding.
"You still call the stag Lord Hector though he is a Lord no longer." Willis spoke without bothering to look over his shoulder. Choel felt his fur prick up, just a little. "Just cause he has to leave Pross doesn't make him any less of a noble." The tiger's scowl deepend, "He's been through a lot, and he may have fled his lands during the uprising, but that doesn't mean he isn't a lord."
"And just because my master freed me does not mean that I do not still owe him my devotion." Willis responded, setting a piece of leather aside for salvage, "My master saved me from the slavers."
"Hmph." Choel responded, "So did mine." the tiger let out a deep breath. He hadn't actively thought about the day in years, but it was always right beneath the surface in his mind. "I was a Lot 17."
Willis nodded, "I know."
The tiger's fur rose up more. The ocelot's comment was casual and bland, hardly the response for such an admission. Choel stood up, no longer leaning against the wall, "I was a lot 17." he repeated, "If Lord Hector hadn't purchased me I was gonna get sold to the Grinders."
"I know." Willis repeated.
"How in the Black Pit would you know something like that?" Choel had to work hard to keep the challenge out of his voice. "We're all Lot 17." the cat responded, his tail flicking casually as he compared two new pieces of leather and tossed them both into the scrap bin.
The comment didn't make any sense, but it was enough to knock the fight out of Choel, replacing it with confusion, "Whadda ya mean, 'all of us'?" he took a step closer to the ocelot, still scowling, "Lot 17's what slavers call slaves they don't want to continue trying to sell."
"I know what it means." Willis acknowledged, adding one more length of leather barding to the pack he had been filling and folded it up. About facing, the ocelot rested his paws on his hips, "On the occasion my master or the stag buy slaves they choose from those who would otherwise be discarded."
"YOU were Lot 17?" Choel finally began to let that thought sink in, "Why?" he asked, arms finally unfolding, "You know how to do everything." the words were bitter in his muzzle; the tiger hadn't yet found a single flaw in the ocelot, and it drove him to distraction-- enough that Willis admitting an imperfection caught him off guard.
"Why were you Lot 17?" the ocelot countered, approaching the larger tiger with such grace that the pads of his bare feet didn't even make a sound amidst loose pieces of straw. Choel was ready to object to the questioning on the grounds that he had asked first, but the severity of Willis' eyes caught him anew.
"My first master wasn't all that happy when he found his daughter with me." the tiger admitted candidly. He'd told the story often enough, but it was usually told over the course of an hour, with a LOT of detail-- never without any embellishment, and never so directly.
Willis stopped within arm's reach of the tiger, still staring right into his eyes. One of the ocelot's eyebrows raised, "And you weren't put to death?"
"He paid a lot for me and wanted to get some back." Choel responded, "That, and she was a beagle, so she wasn't gonna have a slave's litter." Willis' attention remained on him, and the tiger cleared his throat before adding, "He was a greedy ass, which is probably the only reason I'm still alive after my--"
"Indiscretion." Willis stated, "From what I understand, you are still learning how to control yourself." he blinked, "Not a good trait in a slave."
Choel snorted, "Good thing I'm not a slave anymore."
"As you say." the ocelot acknowledged, and turned back around, heading for the work table once again.
"Hey!" the tiger objected, reaching out to put his paw on Willis' shoulder, "You didn't say wh--OAH!" he didn't get to finish the words. The entire carriage house spun around him before he ended up on his back; Willis stood some three or four paces away, straightening up from whatever maneuver he'd used to throw Choel.
Dazed, the tiger remained on the wooden floor as the ocelot strolled over and rested a foot on his abdomen, "My former master had a nasty habit of 'enjoying' slaves."
"... so you were a sex slave?" Choel inquired. He could suddenly imagine Willis as a sex slave-- the ocelot's gracefully lithe body doing things the tiger thought impossible, yet proven wrong time and time again.
"I worked as a carriage handler." the cat broke the imagery with the flat response, "And no, he did not keep sex slaves."
"Huh?" the tiger questioned, "So whadda yea mean he--"
"he was interested in flesh in a different way... He ate them." the ocelot answered the question before Choel had spoken it, "He would sometimes take a paw, but usually an arm... or a leg." Willis stared down at the tiger, ice in his gaze, "If the slave didn't die immediately then they would be put back out into the fields as if nothing had happened." he took his foot off of Choel's stomach, "...and they would usually die later once their wound became corrupted... or, if they didn't, the master would usually come back for seconds... or thirds... or fourths..."
Aghast, Choel sat up. He'd heard stories of slave owners who were cruel, but never something as horrific as what Willis had described, "and... how did you end up getting sold?"
"He died." Willis responded, claws unsheathing, then sheathing again, "He'd had my mother bred, and was interested in one of my baby sisters... but she wasn't going to let him have her. My mother attacked him, and he ran her through with the carving knife he planned on using on one of her cubs."
"So..." Choel paused, "how did he die?"
"I had a knife too." the ocelot responded, "The constable didn't know specifics so he had all the slaves sold off to the Grinders to make sure nobody would cause a problem." Willis' claws retracted, "It was there that the master intercepted me." "And your mother's litter?" the tiger asked, "What happened to them?"
Willis turned and walked back to the work bench, "I begged him to buy them too. I promised him I would do anything if he would."
"...and?" Choel stood up.
"And I am making good on my promise." the ocelot responded, securing the salvaged leather before picking up the pack and heading to the door, "My brothers and sisters are alive and well in Diermyna at one of my master's estates."
"Lord Hector said that Bane was a slave a long time ago." he strode after Willis, "How could he have bought so many slaves?" The ocelot flicked an ear and exited the carriage house, "He used money provided by Lord Talvin." waiting by the exit for Choel, he closed the door once they were both outside and headed toward the small, two story inn adjacent. The building was stout and, made of stone, it was decidedly sturdy. After a few moment's silence, Willis continued, "You may never understand how much Lord Talvin did for all of us."
"Other than betraying Lord Hector?" the tiger snorted with displeasure, but he quickly lost the attitude when the ocelot turned back and glared at him. Deciding to skirt the issue, Choel chose instead to focus on what he saw as an answer to a question that had been nagging at the back of his mind, "Is that why Bane knew how to get to Lord Talvin's estate, and knew what we were going to need for our trip?"
"My master has been to the estate many times in the past." Willis responded in a way that left Choel feeling as though he were evading a true answer, but the tiger didn't press the issue. Instead, he chose a new one.
"If Pross is so dangerous right now, then why isn't he going with us to Vensii?" Choel smirked when the ocelot stopped, but he lost the smirk when Willis turned back to face him with a strange neutrality in his expression.
"Because Bane isn't done changing the world, and there's still more for him to do in Pross." and, with that, Willis entered the back door to the inn, leather bundle still in his grap. Despite the obviously overinflated impression the ocelot had for the strange white wolf, Choel found himself wondering just how unreasonable the cat's expectations of his master truly were. Intrigued, the tiger followed after Willis. Perhaps there WAs more to Bane than he had first supposed... and Choel planned on using his new found freedom to solve the strange mystery -- if he had his way it would be the first of many.
* * * * *
Ink was a pricy commodity and not one to which Gaius was accustomed. Having spent nearly a decade as an indentured servant, he was not a man of any great means, but a good vial of writing ink was the first expenditure he'd made when he received a stipend from Lord Hector. Something about being able to sit at a table and pen a letter brought back memories of what life had been like before financial troubles had forced the porcupine to sell himself into bondage. It had been nearly three months since he had last contacted his wife and children; gods willing, the letter would find them well.
"You make the most of everything, don'cha, sir?" Balkum asked, causing Gaius to look up from his work. The inn's common room was large enough for the few occupants to spread out but, for some reason, the honey badger had chosen to share a table with him. As the porcupine thought back to the journey from Lord Talvin's estate to the roadside inn, he recalled that Balkum spent his time flittering from person to person; he obviously didn't feel as though he had a place he could belong, and Gaius didn't envy him the position.
"How so?" the leather worker was never well inclined toward small talk, but he also realized at the same time that the honey badger was not about to go away.. at least not until he satisfied whatever desire for companionship brought him to the table.
"Just..." Balkum perched his chin on his palms, supporting it with his elbows on the table, "you use your spines for everything."
Gaius shrugged in response, "When you've spent as long in a trade as I have you learn to make due with what you can afford... and with all my wages going toward purchasing my life back, that means I don't have much coin for needles..." he dipped his quill into the ink well and finished off the letter with signing his name, "...or pens."
The honey badger nodded faintly, muzzle still resting on his paws, "Where did you learn to write?" Balkum asked, "It must be nice."
The leather worker carefully wiped off his quill on his leather apron, then neatly speared a spare strip where he stored his harvested spines for later use. Setting the letter off to the side to dry, he turned to more fully regard Balkum. The honey badger was watching him intently, and with interest. Despite the fact that the slave was easily a foot taller than the porcupine, Gaius had come to realize over the past few weeks that Balkum was younger than he'd originally assumed... late teens, most likely... possibly the same age as his own children. "My sinh taught me."
"Sinh?" the honey badger's rounded ears rose, "What's a sinh?"
Gaius mumbled to himself as he thought about the right translation for it, "There isn't a word in Prossian that explains it just right... a 'nanny', I suppose?" he stopped his ink well and stowed it away, "A sinh is a family member but they aren't related by blood." he stated, "In Tenvier both men and women work for the family, and the sinh is a good friend of a father or a mother, and they help raise a child when the parents aren't around."
"You're from Tenvier?" Balkum asked, "I didn't know." he lowered his paws and folded them in front of himself on the table, "You don't have an accent..." the young slave paused, "though that would explain your feet, I guess."
The porcupine glanced down at his boots; Prossians feet were dramatically different than his own, and they were not often prone to wearing footwear like his. The leather worker decided to let the observation slide and address the honey badger's first comment, "I was raised among the business class." he out a breath as he finally turned to regard the cold hunk of mutton that had been given to him almost an hour past; he had been more interested in finding time to write his letter but his stomach was suddenly reminding him that he was plenty hungry. Folding up the correspondence, he stowed it in his apron.
He began cutting the meat into pieces while he continued talking, "In Tenvier there aren't slaves but everyone still has a place in society. The business caste doesn't talk like most of the rest of the nation because we learn as many languages as we can while we're young..." he glanced to Balkum, who was sitting as if enraptured by the casual tale, "it's easier to pick up tongues at a young age." he skewered a hunk of meat with his fork, "If anyone in the business caste DOES have an accent when speaking in a foreign language, it's a faint one." and he turned his attention to his meal, considering the discussion complete.
The two sat in silence for over ten minutes as Gauis finished his dinner, not bothering to look up at Balkum until the plate lay empty. When the leather worker did, however, he saw that the honey badger was still there, looking at him. "What?" the porcupine asked, finding the slave's continued presence grating.
"How did you become an Indentured?" the honey badger asked.
Gaius sat down his fork and placed his napkin next to his plate, "My wife became very sick and the cost to have her cared for was too great for us to pay." memories of that time came flooding back to the porcupine, but he managed to keep his emotions in check as he regarded the slave, wondering just how many more questions he would have to answer.
"Oh..." Balkum acknowledged, sitting back in his chair, "The man that sired me sold me to slavery so he could settle gambling debts." The young slave let out a breath, "I think your reason's a lot better."
The porcupine had spent long enough in Pross that such stories no longer affected him as they first had; it was surprisingly common for a poor family to try and improve their lot by taking coin for a child they couldn't afford to keep... or, in the honey badger's case, try to make up for poor financial decisions; any Tenvierian worthy of a family name knew better than to gamble away money that was needed elsewhere. "There is no slavery in Tenvier..." he announced, choosing to keep his societal judgment to himself, "...and even if there was I wouldn't expect one of my children to pay my debts."
Balkum stared at him for several seconds, creating a lull in the discussion after the porcupine had said his piece. Finally, after the extended pause, the honey badger stood up, "You're a good sire, Mr. Gaius."
"No..." the porcupine responded flatly, "I'm just not a bad one."
The young slave held his tongue for a moment, but Gaius could tell there was more he wanted to say. The pprcupine got a reprieve, as Balkum didn't get the chance, "Balkum--" Willis, the ocelot that traveled with Bane called, "We are leaving early tomorrow... the master will want you rested." he glanced to Gaius then back to the honey badger, "You can continue your talk tomorrow."
"Yes, sir." the young man nodded, then, turning to regard the porcupine, offered a quick, faint waving gesture, then headed obediently up the stairs.
"I haven't met many slaves as talkative as he is." Gaius stated, eyes going immediately to Willis.
"His prior master apparently agreed with you." the cat frowned, but the expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, "The master does not frown on such things, however, so long as Balkum understands that there is a time and a place for it." he deposited a hide bag full of leather straps on the table.
The porcupine was immediately all business, loosening the cord on the sack before frowning, "This is it?"
"The rain two days back didn't help matters." the cat responded unapologetically, "What wear didn't ruin the water did the rest. Can you do something with these?"
Gaius picked through the lengths of material before folding the bag back up and drawing the cord closed, "Yes. The replacements won't be pretty but they'll get us from here to there."
"The stag was right to put his faith in you." Willis stated simply, "Will you be done by morning?"
"No." the porcupine responded with the same brevity, but he then elaborated, "The most exacting work will be done by then but I can finish the last of it when we're on the road... it won't be slowing us down and we should have some extra leads and tie downs before we need them." One of the two harnesses they'd been using broke in several places and it was up to Gaius to repair it. With only one spare, should anything happen before he completed the project they would be hard-pressed to manage the pace Bane and Lord Hector had set for them.
"Good." the ocelot acknowledged, and headed off without another word. Gaius had no doubt that Willis had no futher use of him which suited the porcupine just fine; he had experienced more than enough socialization for the night anyway. Packing up the rest of his supplies and one of the table's candle holders, the leather worker retreated to his room, and the large amount of work that awaited him before he would be able to get any amount of sleep.
Having only recently recovered from the beating he'd sustained at the paws of the slaves who rose up at Lord Hector's estate, Gaius found the stairs to be a grueling punishment to climb. The time in the wagon had not done much for his bruises and his muscles were as sore as ever. Finally arriving at the second floor, the porcupine took a few moments to catch his breath and let his legs stop screaming at him. Only once he was certain he wouldn't fall when he walked, Gaius went straight to his accomodations.
Unlike Lord Hector's newly freed followers, Gaius had a chamber to himself. Although the porcupine offered to split the difference with his employer, the stag had generously covered the full cost, explaining that the leather worker would need the room for what had been asked of him to accomplish that night. Not only did the porcupine have a room to himself, but Lord Hector had provided him a bonus to his wages.
Wages! It felt like an eternity since Gaius had felt coin in his paw. Despite the dangers the porcupine knew he'd face, he'd elected to stay with his former benefactor and, since being released from his contract, the leather worker had been receiving income handsomely-- the stag was certainly not a miser. Closing and securing the door behind himself, Gaius began lighting the room's candles with the one he carried; he had always worked honestly and the coin he was receiving meant that his work HONESTLY deserved his attention.
Fitting scrap leather together was not an artistic skill; as far as Gaius was concerned all it required was a rudimentary understanding of leather working and a solid amount of attention to detail. Having spent the past several years patching up old hide and resizing harnesses the industrious movements of his fingers between leather, quill, and cord scarcely required any of his attention, and when Gaius was keeping his paws busy that meant his mind was free to wander-- and that night was no exception.
Despite how he looked at his situation, the past ten years had been wasted. Working for barely more than enough to cover his own expenses, Gaius had been in the employ of three different nobles. His first lord, a blithe but flighty Tenvierian mink, had accepted his contract easily enough, but kept him on for scarcely a year before selling his service to a Diermynian trader who was passing through. As an indentured servant, Gaius was forced to leave home and family and follow his new patron on the road. It wasn't another two years until the porcupine was able to settle down, and that was at Lord Hector's estate.
The leather worker had never truly believed the stag's explanation of how he came by Gaius' contract, but the porcupine also knew it wasn't his place to press the issue. According to Lord Hector, the Diermynian had found an excellent business opportunity but was exceedingly low on capital, choosing to sell Gaius' contract at half price to make up the difference. In the years the porcupine had been in the trader's service he had never known the civet to sell anything at half price, but he had made up his mind to not ask any questions-- half price meant that he would have to work half as long to be free to return to his family.
A tightness welled up in Gaius' chest as he thought about the time that had passed. His children had grown up without him and his wife had not had her husband by her side. Lord Hector was the porcupine's first contract holder who provided him a stipend for letters; in the first month alone the leather worker had sent more letters to his family than he had in the rest of his servitude; each and every letter was responded to in kind, written in the lovely lettering he recognized as his wife's-- her father had been a print master, and it showed.
His reached up and wiped at his eyes, attempting to clear the blurriness from them as he continued his work. Ten years he had been gone... ten years with a letter once a month. Gaius knew that his family was healthy and that his wife was caring for his family's shop well enough. He had learned in his wife's prior missive that his two eldest had begun helping around the store, which meant that his family was able to save on hired labor; the thought that his children had followed in his foot steps made him proud, even if he wasn't there to see it.
The knock at his door drew Gaius from his memories, and forced him to address the dampness on his cheeks, "One moment." he called, attempting to keep his voice as steady as he could. Wiping his face, the porcupine cleared his throat and stood, moving to the door. He took another moment to compose himself and, returning his demeanor to that of a consummate professional, he opened the door. Expecting Willis, or perhaps even Bane himself, he was surprised to find a fox outside in the hallway. "Sidney?"
"Good evening, Mr Gaius." the slave master announced. The porcupine remembered the first time he had dealt with the fox; Sidney had been tasked with bringing a box of treated leather to him. Gaius could still picture the poor slave, covered in dirt and sweat, standing unsure in his doorway and trying in vain to apologize for his slovenly appearance; the leather worker had only just managed to succeed in avoiding a laugh-- even with the minor blemishes, Sidney was the cleanest, best kept slave he had ever seen.
"What can I do for you, Sidney?" he asked at length.
The fox glanced past him into the room, "May I speak with you for a moment?" The changes that had come over Sidney in the past several weeks were striking. Not only did he stand up straighter, but he actually managed to hold Gaius' gaze for several seconds before looking away. The porcupine had no illusions about the fox being able to pass himself off as a free man just yet, but,then again, the leather worker realized, healing took time.
"I am quite busy..." Gaius responded; he was surprised to see that Sidney didn't wilt at the casual 'no', rather, the fox stood up a little straighter.
"When would be a good time, sir?" he asked, "It's important."
Letting out a sigh, the porcupine stepped away from the door and permitted his guest entry. Sidney inclined his head and offered a courteous 'thank you'. Closing the door after the fox entered, the leather worker turned to regard him, "Now... what's so important?" he crossed his arms over his chest; the stance use to intimidate Sidney but, Gaius realized, the only response it got was a momentary backward flick of the fox's ears.
"Lord Hector told me that you're not coming with us to Vensii." the slave master commented, weight shifting from foot to foot. The nervous gesture provided the porcupine a degree of comfort-- the fox had come a long way, but he wasn't a totally new person just yet.
"Yes." he acknowledged, "I'm parting ways at Arveras... it's a city near the border."
Sidney nodded slightly, his eyes slowly finding their way down to Gaius' boots, "Lord Hector says we're still three days from the border."
"Longer, if I don't get my work done." the porcupine added gruffly. He was surprised when the casual reproach didn't cause the fox's tail to curl in humility.
"You will." the confidence in Sidney's voice was surprising to the leather worker, both because he didn't know the fox was capable of such a display, but also because there was a note of reverence in it. "You can do anything, Mr. Gaius."
"I hardly think--" the porcupine began, but his words trailed off when Sidney moved forward unexpectedly and wrapped his arms around him. Gaius went rigid at the sudden display of affection, his quills standing on end but, somehow the fox managed to embrace him without impaling his arms on the leather worker's back.
"Thank you, Mr. Gaius..." Sidney spoke quietly, slowly releasing him from the hug, "...for being such a good person."
It was the second time in one night that someone had called him 'good', and the porcupine found it disconcerting. His response was the same as the last time, "No..." he repeated with the same indifference, "I'm just not a bad one."
The fox sniffled, and then, surprisingly, shook his head, "No, Mr. Gaius," he contradicted the leather worker, "I've seen bad men, and I've seen not-bad-men... you're neither of them." Sidney offered a faint smile, "Lord Hector told me that you helped make my first real set of clothes... and they were nicer than anything else I'd ever had."
"That doesn't make me a--"
idney actually talked over him, stunning Gaius to silence, "You also stayed up throughout the night to finish the harnesses for the Gladiators in time for the festival."
The porcupine became uneasy at the way the fox pressed the issue, "It was my job. Lord Hector held my contra--"
"You fought against the people that wanted to kill him." the fox spoke the words with iron bound resolve and, for once, Gaius didn't have an objection.
"It was the right thing." he finally answered.
"But it was not an easy thing." Sidney added, "I know they hurt you."
Gaius' arm and ribs twinged at the memory of that night, and he was suddenly even more uncomfortable in the fox's presence, "If you came to thank me, then I understand... noted." he cleared his throat, "Is there anything else, Sidney?"
The fox nodded, "I wanted to wish you luck." he offered with words with a ready smile, "Lord Hector says you're going south... back to your family."
"That stag talks too much." the porcupine tried to add as much gruffness to his voice as he could manage, but the thought of his family made that difficult, "Yes." he added at length, "I'm going home."
"I'm sure it will be wonderful." Sidney offered with a smile.
"I imagine it will." Gaius acknowledged. The fox's smile was somehow contagious, and the porcupine didn't rebuke him when he offered up another hug.
"Thank you for everything, Mr Gaius."
"You're welcome, Sidney." the leather worker acknowledged, the room getting just a little brighter at the warmth the fox brought into it. "But it's a little early for goodbyes though, isn't it?"
"I guess so." the slave master acknowledged, tail and head hanging slightly, the pose instantly recalling images of the old Sidney Gaius had once known-- the porcupine realized that he didn't really miss that fox... the new one was an improvement.
"You're a free man, Sidney." Gaius spoke up, "Is Vensii really where you want to go?" he was surprised where his thoughts were taking the conversation, but he wasn't about to give up once he'd committed to his course of action, "You could always come to Tenvier... my family's shop is large enough to give you a place to stay while you get a fresh start." In all his years as an indentured servant, Gaius had never invited anyone to spend any amount time with him; perhaps, he realized, freedom was something desired by more men than just slaves.
"Thank you, Mr. Gaius..." the fox smiled, then slowly shook his head, "But no..." he slowly drew away from the embrace, "Slave or not, I am still Lord Hector's... but now I can choose for it to be so."
"I understand." the porcupine nodded, "Now Lord Hector... THAT is a good man." he patted Sidney on the shoulder.
The fox's tail swished at the compliment, "Yes he is." and, with that, Sidney went to the door, pausing as he opened it slowly, "Mr Gaius?" the fox inquired, turning again to face him.
"Hmm?"
"You're going to be so happy to get back to your family." there were many mixed emotions in the fox's voice-- joy along with a hint of jealousy; the pure pathos in the words were almost enough to make Gaius start to tear up again.
"I hope so." the leather worker acknowledged.
Sidney pulled the portal shut behind him, hinges squeaking faintly as it did. Sidney's smile was one of the last things to disappear behind the wood as it closed... that, and the glowing rune on his chest. "I'm sure of it."