Cold Blood 17: Green Horizons
#17 of Cold Blood Cold BloodA Story byOnyx Tao
I, Dacien 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.
Cold Blood A Story by Onyx Tao Chapter Seventeen Green Horizons Dacien did not see Lord Green again until evening the following day, when the black minotaur appeared, and peremptorily ordered Dacien and Five to follow him. Lord Green practically radiated irritation, and Dacien had to hurry to keep up with the long steps and quick stride of the minotaur. The path they took was confusing, too, as Lord Green hurried through slanted corridors and unexpected rooms. The impression Dacien had of House Green was a fragmented vision of rooms, small, large, filled with plants, sunlight, glass windows, and mirrors. "Can you find your way back?" he whispered to Five. "Yes," the other minotaur said briefly, with a hint of surprise. "Of course." Of course. Dacien thought about that the rest of the way. They finally ended up in a sunny, glass-ceilinged room - almost a greenhouse, Dacien thought - with four of the five walls obscured by planted tiers of ferns. Water dripped down from the ceiling, making pleasant burbling sounds, down over the ferns, and the room had a cool, earthy smell of plants and fresh soil from the potted ferns, even though the floor itself was spotless glassy blue tile laid with thick rugs. A white embroidered cloth covered a large, rectangular table set in the center of the room, and seated at it, one to a side, were Teodor, Lukas, and Havel. The remaining - the head of the table, Dacien thought - had only a chair, and there was another, empty chair to Teodor's left. The table itself had a dazzling arrangement of plates, bowls, and goblets in front of each chair, as well as several elaborately carved glass decanters, which Dacien guessed were filled with wine. A graceful sculpture of glass, a swan, Dacien thought, curved upwards, filled with liquid red so dark it was almost black. Another decanter, more jug-shaped but none the less graceful in its perfect glittering transparency held a pale red wine. A second swan-decanter was filled with a deep yellow, almost brown, liquid, and two other jug-like decanters of transparent glass held more pale red wine, and a yellow so pale it looked almost like water. More glass crystal vases had been set on the table, holding one or two flowers, of white, or pink-traced orange, or deep red, and in front of the empty chair next to Teodor, a brilliant sun-yellow. The flat discs of the flowers, surrounded by a multitude of thin, narrow petals, were unfamiliar to Dacien. The three minotaurs in the room looked up as Lord Green entered, and it seemed to Dacien that his own master was about to speak, but Lord Green's brusque tone was first. "Now?" The word was tense, and and the black minotaur's tone was filled with the same not-quite-anger. The two other minotaurs looked away. Havel looked like he was going to say something, but stopped. Lukas just looked ... uncomfortable. Dacien wondered what they'd just walked into. Even Lord Fog looked a little surprised. "Of course, Lord Green," Teodor said, gesturing aimlessly. A spell that Dacien hadn't been aware twisted around Five and Dacien, dissolving into cold gray magic and dissipating slowly. "I'm sorry it caused such trouble." "It's been causing chaos in my household," Lord Green said, still irritated. "Nobody's been able to get into the Chorus Wing. The servants have been getting lost." "Well, it's gone now," Lord Fog said, in a determinedly cheerful way. "The effect will fade from their minds over the next day or so." "Good," growled the black minotaur. "I don't see ..." "If something had happened to me," Lord Fog said, and every trace of amusement had vanished from his voice, "they had all the protection I could give them." Lord Green turned and glared at the two of them, before shaking his head. "Yes," he said, sounding as if he were admitting to something. "Yes. And quite right. Dinner?" "We have been waiting for you, Lord Green," Teodor said courteously. "Yes. If you please." The gray minotaur motioned for Five and Dacien to join him, pointing to the side of the couch, and spared a short smile for them. "Dinner, then," said the black minotaur clapping loudly as the two kneeled beside Teodor. A moment later, a troop of human servants - all male, dressed only in short linen trousers and shirts. Four of them lined up behind the minotaurs, and served a small, steaming pastry spattered with drops of deep green. Teodor inhaled the steam, and smiled. "Lovely." He tapped the plate twice, and pointed down, to where Dacien and Five were kneeling, and another of the servants hurried off. "Lamb?" "I believe so," Lord Green said. "I leave matters dealing with food in the hands of my chef. They are, I freely admit, more capable than mine." "It's delicious, My Lords," Havel said, putting a fork down. "Oh," said Teodor. "As to that, I should like, if you would do me the favor, of being addressed as Teodor." "For dinner," said Lord Green, "I should have no objection. Teodor." "It feels somewhat presumptuous," said Lukas, "but since you ask it, I shall, if you will do me the courtesy of calling me Lukas." "Thank you, Lukas, I am pleased to be so invited," Teodor said. "Does no one but me miss the old formalities?" asked Havel, almost plaintively. Teodor gazed across the table, and smiled. "As to that, my dear Warlord, I cannot say, but, I might, if it would not be construed too liberally, permit myself the distinction of saying a word or two on the topic." Havel shook his head. "Perhaps I miss them less than I thought. And yet, it seems to me, if I might venture my own opinion, that the practice might be of some small interest." "I do not miss the empty phrases of formal conversation," Xavien said, his voice deeper than any of the others at the table. "But that last sounds only too much like an after-dinner conversation. Since our guest requests it, and it will improve our dinner, I wholeheartedly agree with Teodor's plan. Please, all of you, call me Xavien." "I will put off my curiosity as to why a refresher in formal conversation might be of any interest," said Teodor. The gray minotaur paused. "Oh. Well. It's obvious, isn't it." "Teodor," Xavien sighed. "Please." "I'll just wonder whom, then, shall I?" "I would not put it past you to harvest that field as well, although, I don't see how you could." Teodor snorted. "Please. It must be someone from Ourobouros." "We are at dinner," Xavien said, with a hint of aggravation. A servant slipped plates in front of Dacien and Five, bearing the same steaming pastry. Five took his in a single bite, and smiled in bliss. Dacien couldn't quite manage it as a single bite, his mouth being smaller than a minotaur's muzzle, but the pastry was indeed stuffed with seasoned ground meat, and the green drops proved to be tiny bits of intensely potent mint. It was, Dacien agreed, delicious. "Yes, dinner served with a tantalizing ..." "Well, I apologize," Havel broke in. "I had no intention of disturbing your peace of mind, Teodor, and perhaps, Xavien, it would be best just to ..." "No, no," said Xavien, leaning back, and gesturing to a servant. "We did broach the subject, however tangentially, and I have reason to believe Teodor enjoys putting these puzzles together, or taking them apart, or whatever the right term is." "Why, thank you," Teodor said dryly. "I do, I think. Then I have your permission to ponder?" "Certainly." "Well, then, I thought at first it must be an Ourobouros general." "Really?" "Yes." "Which one?" "Well, I was thinking about that, but then ... well. I thought that the real issue before is not one of military strategy, but a mage-issue. I won't say no general will come, because I think it would be good if one did, but ... I believe we're getting an Ourobouros mage as envoy," Teodor said thoughtfully. "But which one ..." "Yes," Xavien said. "Which one?" "I'm quite confident it's a mage," Teodor said. "And ... that narrows down the choices. The Lord of Bones is out, because he would never leave Ourobouros. The Lord of Waves is needed at the port, so ... that leaves the Lord of Beasts or the Lord of Pentacles ..." his voice trailed off again in thought. "Pentacles, I think, since we're dealing with mage-weapons." "Well-reasoned," Xavien said, as human servants removed the lamb pastry plate, and ladled out soup from a tureen into a low dish. A spicy scent of garlic and some other strong herb wafted up, and this time, without Teodor's prompting, both Dacien and Five got a bowl of it as well. Dacien followed Five's lead, and lifted the bowl to his mouth to drink. The hot, clear broth had a strong, meaty flavor, although Dacien could not identify it. "Your reasoning is excellent, Teodor," Havel said. "Perhaps you'd care to put a wager on it?" "A wager ... very well. That, the envoy is a mage, twenty suns. That, the envoy is from Ourobouros, twenty suns. That, the envoy is the Lord of Pentacles, twenty suns." "I'll take the last," said Havel. "Although I am reasonably sure of my logic, it is an all or nothing proposition, especially now that I fear I have misidentified the mage," Teodor said. "If it be not the Lord of Pentacles, then ... goodness. The Lord of Bones remains speaker, the Lord of Waves remains responsible for keeping Ourobouros Port open, and the Lord of Beasts ... would be among the least appropriate envoys every dispatched from anywhere, to anywhere. So. Of all of those impossibilities, I suppose the Lord of Bones would be least impossible, although it is still far outside the bounds ..." Teodor's voice trailed off. "Your expression, my dear Havel, is such that I trust you play cards only with close friends. Am I to understand that the Lord of Bones is gracing us with a visit?" "Yes," Xavien said, spitting the word out as if it tasted bad. "And if ..." "'WARE!" shouted Five, his voice rising impossibly into a shrill, high-pitched whine as Dacien was aware of a sudden buffeting that had nothing to do with wind, or the ground shaking and was there nevertheless. "Shield" Xavien said, as Lukas and Havel, more slowly than Five but with war-knives blurred up and around as Five was already half-way across the room brandishing a platter, and the half-naked minotaur was limned in a red outline that somehow was darker than just as four minotaurs appeared, clad from head to foot in heavy leathers. Five smashed the platter into one of them, disorienting it - him - it - as the others blurred into motion as well. Like the trained soldiers they were, Lukas and Havel, moving strangely slowly in their own dim outline of yellow - Dacien could feel magic building now, the impossible tidal strength of Lord Green's magic, and the gathering tornado of Lord Fog's, but - Five delivered a kick to the first one's throat, and its head snapped back and the body started to fall but it just hung there while Lukas and Havel were facing two of the others as Five turned to another, wheeling and extending his arm with the table knife he'd grabbed and it jerked back, surprised, almost fast enough to avoid the knife but a thin trail of red beaded that one's hand as it brought its own sword up to impale Five who was hurling himself forward and somehow twisted around it as Lukas and Havel found themselves stymied by their opponents, cuts appearing on them as they were forced back - quickly - toward the table and - "... the ..." but Dacien realized it couldn't happen, wouldn't happen, there was no time - - Five's opponent twisted again, and again, as Five sliced in at him, avoiding the knife by smaller and smaller margins and the blade itself was farther and farther from Five, trailing him more and more slowly as Five gained speed on him and the knife was in his foe's eye as the slave minotaur grabbed the sword and wrenched it into his own quickening ignoring his first kill who was still falling to the floor and his second, possibly not even dead in his moment but finished in Five's moving so slowly and yet still a little faster than the other two, not yet aware of the danger coming from behind them but something must have warned them because one spun in place to face Five and the other continued pressing Lukas and Havel back, more slowly, as the two began working together, pressing the intruder back but still giving space - - and now Five and the intruder were fighting, for speed, for advantage and they seemed to Dacien to be evenly matched although Five didn't have the leather outfit the other had and their swords didn't ring when they hit, it was a swift silent dance of ruthlessness and speed and both intruders were still speeding up, Lukas and Havel seeming slower and slower as the intruder put a sword through Lukas's chest and a hoof impacted Havel's wrist sending Havel's sword flying or rather just hanging mid-air away from the minotaur who was also hanging, just like Lukas, even as the one Five had dropped with the throat-kick finally finished crumpling to the floor and then a blow left Five's opponent staring at a stump where his hand had been and another fine red line appeared at his throat as Five darted around him to engage the last minotaur now ready for him and their swords touched silently again and again as they jockeyed for position - "... humans!" finished Xavien, and Dacien could feel the mages power solidifying, but it couldn't possibly be fast enough, not at the speed that the two minotaur were going, and it seemed faster and faster and faster until the two merged into a blur as the mage-power built like a threatening storm and Dacien didn't see what happened but suddenly everything dropped to the floor; Havel, Lukas, swords, all that had been waiting in that strange paused time where Five was - No, the fourth had dropped to the floor, too, decapitated just like the third, whose head was just now rolling aside from the body as blood gushed from the headless minotaurs, flowed from the wound in Lukas's chest, and leaked from the other two minotaurs Five had downed. Five himself was standing over the fourth body with a now bright-red sword and a second sword, piercing, his side, and he dropped exhaustedly to his knees. "Master?" he said, after a moment. "I ..." "Close the house," Teodor said quickly, rising and doing his own leap over the table. He lay a hand on Lukas, moved it to Havel, and then put his other hand on Five. "I can hold these." "Lukas?" "I'm sorry," Teodor said, gravely. And then the wave of Lord Green's power broke over the room. Dacien wasn't sure what it was, or what it was doing, but he felt like he was being crushed under a huge fist of water, until the spell solidified as ... as ... Dacien wasn't sure what it was. "I've sealed the House," Lord Green said, jumping over to Lord Fog. "Hold them? You've practically finished with Havel ..." "I can do nothing about the scarring," Teodor said. "If you would ..." "Yes. Your slave?" "Temporal shock. I dealt with Havel's, but this seems profound ..." "Allow me," Lord Green said, and then, "yes. I see what you mean. It's easy to fix, though." "It is?" "Like so. Because it's so fine, you can ..." "Oh!" said Lord Fog. "That's elegant. And I see, that wouldn't work on less ..." "No, you'd have to do it the hard way. Like, I presume, you did with Havel." "Yes, but Havel's shock wasn't that bad." "I've put the muscle back together," Lord Green said, "and balanced it. He should regain consciousness quickly." "Havel? No, I'm sorry. Five. Yes. Can ... can you keep him under, please?" "Under?" Lord Green asked with startlement. "Unconscious," Teodor clarified. "Yes, if you wish," "I wish," said Teodor. "I need a few minutes to sort things out." "I can agree ..." Lord Green broke off. "Havel?" "My ... My Lord?" "Havel!" "Are you all right, My Lord? Lord Fog?" "We are uninjured," Teodor said. "Nor are any of the humans in this room hurt. We have ... you have, rather, just defeated ..." "Not I, My Lords," Havel said. "The slave." "Five, yes, had a great deal to do with it," Teodor said. "But you and Lukas slowed them ..." "Lukas!" "I'm sorry," Teodor said, again. "And ... the ... Five?" "Five took a wound at the end, and ... Lord Green is seeing to it," Lord Fog said. "I've done," the black minotaur said, standing, lifting the still-limp form of Five. Lord Green hesitated for a moment, and went over to the table, and his eyes went to his servants. "Well? Clear the table! Now! Everything! And ... you! Go fetch Talosh, inform him that I need him immediately. Answer his questions, but do so as you return!" The table was almost clear by the time Lord Green had finished speaking, and he laid Five down, almost tenderly, on the bare wood of the table. "Now," the minotaur said, turning to the four corpses. A wave of his hand was accompanied by a slosh of magic, and the leather gear they were wearing split at the seams, and scattered. Both Lord Fog and Lord Green stared for a moment, and their heads turned back to the form lying on the table. "Not a coincidence, then." "No," said Lord Fog, staring at the four prone corpses. Each one was white, with black splotches, without horns. The patterns of black against white were different, but even so, even Dacien saw the fundamental resemblance to Five. "Yours has horns ..." "Because the old ... excuse me, I should second-to-last Lord of Tongs restored them," said Lord Fog. "Did you know?" asked Lord Green. "That I owned a ninja?" "Yes, that was the question," said Lord Green, just as Havel said "But they're a myth!" and the two minotaurs stared at each other. "Do you know," said Lord Fog, and some measure of calm had returned to his voice, "not five minutes ago, I would have agreed with you?" "Yes," said Havel. "Well. So he didn't tell you?" "No ... I just acquired him," said Lord Fog. "I ... well. I don't imagine Luzeil knew, either, or I doubt he would have sold him to me after all." "Probably not," agreed Lord Green. "So. Do you have your thoughts together." "Almost," sighed Lord Fog. He walked over to a cart where the servants had put the table settings - including the decanters of wine. He picked up the decanters of the lightest of the yellow and dark red wines, and Dacien felt a cool rush of magic as the gray minotaur walked over to where Dacien still knelt. "Here," the minotaur said. "I've ... well, bound most of the alcohol, so drinking this won't make you drunk, but ... drink it. Over the next few minutes." "Yes, Master," Dacien said, accepting the pale yellow wine. "Thank you." Lord Fog himself simply tipped the decanter over, and drank the red quickly. "Teodor?" asked Lord Green, sounding puzzled. "I must ask ... what are you doing?" "An excellent question, Xavien. I'm sure you have a training room here, for recalcitrant humans?" "Yes, but ..." "But?" "But I let my Master of Slave do that. Talosh." "Nevertheless, there is a room?" "Yes. But he does that elsewhere." "But there is a room here?" "Yes," said Lord Green, still clearly not understanding. "And it has a steel cane?" Lord Green was silent for a moment, and his look of confusion melted into one of grim understanding. "I believe you will find it fully equipped, Lord Fog, for your purposes." "I would say excellent, but ... your pardon, Lord Green, I do not feel that way at all." "You are right, though. It has to be done." "Yes. And sooner is preferable. So. Where might I find this room?" "I will see that you find it. It is not more than five minutes from here." "Why ... excuse me, My Lords, but why do you need a training room?" asked Havel. "And, your pardon again, but have you alerted your guard?" "I have," Lord Green said. "Please consider yourself my present bodyguard." "Yes, My Lord!" The gray minotaur shook his head. "Dinner has been quite disrupted." "It has." "If you could order a dinner in my suite? For three?" "Consider it done, Lord Fog. If I might ask a favor?" "I would be delighted to oblige you, Lord Green." "I am wondering if, perhaps, that non-discernment of yours kept those assassins at bay." "It may have," said Lord Fog. "It is, I think, not unlikely." "It would seem then, that something of the sort would be an additional barrier. Constructed to permit my humans and servants ..." "I could do something," said Lord Fog slowly, "but every additional person who is recognized by the spell weakens it that much more. Ten is really the most reasonable limit, and I would think you have many more than that in minotaurs alone, much less humans." "Yes, and ... one wolven," Lord Green said. "Well. Then a standard spell will not do. It takes maintenance, and ... well. I will see what I can come up with to bolster your protections." "I would be deeply appreciative." "It is nothing, Lord Green. Please think nothing of it, all the more so, since at the moment, it truly is nothing." "Ah," said the black minotaur. "It requires Lord Fog to come up with something new. I have no doubt you will rise magnificently to the challenge." The gray minotaur chuckled. "There may be something to that. I thank you for keeping Five asleep, Lord Green." "And it is my turn to insist that it is nothing." "It is not nothing, it has granted me time, and I believe we just had a most convincing demonstration of the value of time. Still, I think I am ready for the conversation." "So I might lift the spell?" "Exactly my hope, Lord Green." "Might it be prudent to provide some ... restraint? Given his capabilities?" "It might, but I would not so insult his loyalty or devotion." "I am not far from agreeing with you," Lord Green said, and Dacien felt a pulse of Lord Green's heavy magic splash over Five. "I expect he will regain consciousness in a moment." "I beg you to permit me to question him without interference." "Of course, although, if I might suggest a question?" "Certainly, certainly. As long as you address such ..." "Master?" the voice was hesitant, and then Five started to rise, only to be gently pushed back down on the table by Lord Fog. "I am here, my Five," said Lord Fog. "You have taken some injury, minor, and it was healed. It will leave you a somewhat tired, on top of that prodigious display of skill." "Please, Master, I ... I would feel better if I were addressing you properly." "Slowly. And you are recovering from temporal shock. You don't feel as if you are, but ... that is an illusion, which will be completely undone by any tempus on your part at all." "I understand, Master," Five said, getting up off the table carefully, and kneeling at Lord Fog's feet. "Master, I beg your pardon. I have been disobedient, and I beg you to punish me." Lord Fog stood there for a moment, and then he looked at Lord Green, who shrugged, and gestured at the kneeling minotaur. "Let us settle that first, then," said Lord Fog. "How?" "Master, I attacked others without your explicit permission. I stole a knife from the table, and I stole a sword, later. Nor, Master, did I succeed in protecting you." "Ah. Well. Did I not mention, at some point, that I encouraged initiative?" "I ... yes, Master." "I consider these things covered under that instruction." "Yes, Master." "Does that clear you, in your own mind, of disobedience?" "No, Master." "And why not?" "I was ordered never to do these things, Master, unless explicitly ordered. I was not to infer that I might attack, nor handle a weapon, unless specifically instructed." "Why, then, did you do so?" "I had instructions to protect my Master," Five said. "I knew I would have to disobey one or the other instruction." "I see. This is, indeed, very serious. Consider yourself reprimanded severely, Five." "Yes, Master," Five said, sounding apologetic. "Is that now settled?" "I don't think the punishment is sufficient, Master." "I do," Lord Fog said. "I think it is more than sufficient. Do you dispute with me?" "No, Master." "The matter is settled?" "Yes, Master." "Excellent," said Lord Fog. "May we move on to your saving my person, the person of Lord Green, and our respective humans? Not to mention Havel?" "If you wish, Master." "I do. I am pleased beyond words with you, Five. You have outdone any expectation I might have of you. Still I must wonder, my Five, how you came by what I can only think of as a grandmaster understanding of tempus, and why a minotaur with such a level of skill is enslaved." "I was trained after being enslaved, Master." "I see. Is it possible that they - " and a gray hand waved at the four dead minotaurs - "were similarly trained?" "I wouldn't know, Master." "Guess." "I would guess so, Master." "So who is training ninja?" "I don't know, Master." "There was a time before you were enslaved, was there not?" "There was, Master." "And what clan did you belong to?" "I don't know, Master." Lord Fog paused. "You ... was this information stripped from you?" "Yes, Master." "But you remember your ninja training?" "Some of it, Master. I know some of it was also taken from me." "I see," said Lord Fog. "Did Luzeil know of this training?" "I do not believe he did, Master." "You didn't tell him?" "He did not ask, Master, and I have been commanded not to discuss it unless asked by my Master." "I suppose he didn't," Lord Fog sighed. "Well. I know something - a very little something about ninja training. I know that ninja have unparalleled skills at tempus. I think you noticed the arrival of these ... no, no, I race ahead. Do you recognize any of these?" "I have no memories of them before today, Master." "So you have no idea who might have sent them?" "No, Master." "How ... how did you pass from control of a ninja master? That is, a trainer?" "My trainer Master Vidius died. He claimed to be of Clan Nepenthe, but I do not believe he truly was. Or that I was, or am. He died in Ourobouros lands, and I was claimed first tentatively by My Lord of Tongs Nikos, and then absolutely, when he could find no one to claim Master Vidius's possessions. After My Lord of Tongs Nikos passed, I fell to My Lord of Tongs Luzeil, and then to you. I do not remember much before I was given to Master Vidius; I believe that is when my memories were taken from me, Master." "You remember no names from before entering the service of Master Vidius?" "No, Master. I remember ... I remember some of my early training. I was seeking to be a warlord, but ... I do not remember in which clan, anymore. I was summoned to the Schoolmaster's chamber, and ... I was told that I was to be a slave." "I understand," Lord Fog said. "What do you remember? "I don't remember much of my training, only ..." Five paused. "My master's standards were hard to meet, and I was punished when I failed." "Yes," said Lord Fog. "I have some idea." The gray minotaur shook his head. "All right. How was it that you knew we were going to be attacked?" "I felt them coming out of time where they were lurking." "I felt nothing," Havel said. "And I can tell when someone is lurking." "Yes, behind the now. But they were lurking just in front of it. That's why it took them so long to come back." "In front?" "Yes, Sir. Instead of speeding themselves up and moving out-phase, they slowed themselves, and moved out-phase. It's very hard to feel. Lurking behind gives a choppy feeling from stepping through the veils, and the farther behind you are, the easier it is to feel. Lurking ahead does that, too. But when you're lurking ahead, you go through the veil so slowly relative to now that it's a very gentle, drawn-out kind of thing. I've been trained to recognize it. The problem is that coming back in-phase takes at least one second - there's no way around the lag, there's nowhere to go out-phase between now and a second. There's another place about three seconds out, and one just past five seconds out - but everything is just a blur at that point and you can't judge reentry to within almost a minute." "Oh," said Havel, interestedly. "I take it that meant something to you?" asked Lord Fog. "Because, I confess, it means nothing to me." "Yes," Havel said. "I think ... I think so. This is ... this is grandmaster stuff, Lord Fog. I think ... I think I've heard Grandmaster Kanail hint at something like this." "Then we'll need to let him and Lord Chimes know immediately," Lord Fog said. "Agreed. These ... these assassination attempts could be aimed at any or all of us." "They might have been, already," Lord Fog said. "In fact, if I were doing it ..." "Yes," said Lord Green tightly. "Bide. "Lord Doze!" Lord Green? What may I do for you? "I and Lord Fog have just been the subjects of an assassination attempt; we are well, although my Master of Arms fell. I am sorry. "Thank you. They were four grandmaster-level tempus practitioners. I might call them ninja." Xavien? Is this ... a joke? "Lukas is dead. This is not a joke." Ninja. "So it seems." I will be on the lookout for ninja, then. Metrios is with me, I will ... warn him. About ninja. He may contact you for confirmation. "I have others to speak to." Good evening, then. I trust to hear from you soon? "Yes," sighed Lord Green. "It will be a long night." "I think you are entirely right. You offered to guide me?" "I did, but ... I can see I will need to be coordinating communications and planning. It would be rash not to expect further attacks." "Directed at us or our allies, yes," said Lord Fog. "That will be Ruus's problem." "Yes. As Five is mine." "Yes," said Lord Green. "Here." He reached down, and touched the floor. The tiles shimmered for a moment, and then a foot-wide path turned a deep purple. "I cannot guide you personally, but this will take you." "Thank you." said Lord Fog. "That will do excellently. Dacien. Five. Please come with me." "Yes, Master," Five and Dacien said, almost together. Dacien put the now-empty decanter down, and followed Five and Lord Fog - Five behind the gray minotaur, Dacien behind Five. He had to run a little from time to time to keep up. Teodor was not running, but he was setting a brisk pace through the halls and rooms as he followed the winding purple line. "I'm sure we would have discussed this when I got around to that talk I've kept promising - and been unable to make the appropriate time for." "Yes, Master," said Five, in a subdued tone. "Master?" "Yes?" "Are you angry with me, Master?" Lord Fog stopped abruptly, and turned. "No. I am not angry with you. If I am angry with anyone, it is myself. I took you from Luzeil on the grounds he was neglecting you, and ... and I find that I have made the same error." "How, Master?" asked Dacien. "You ..." "Events have proven that I misprioritized," the gray minotaur said. "No, I know what you'll say, and there is some truth to it, that, had I events to do over again, with what I knew, I would make the same decisions, but the point is that they would be the same wrong decisions. I left Five hanging. It was as wrong as I've ever been." "Master?" asked Five, uncertainly. "You deserve the same care I have given Dacien," Lord Fog said quietly, reaching out and putting his hand on the suddenly-trembling minotaur. "I know what you need." "I ..." "I know," sighed Lord Fog. "And yet ... I will have you, my Five." The reply was barely a whisper. "Yes, Master." "So. Come." "Master?" Dacien asked. "I feel like I am missing something." "Yes," said Lord Fog, continuing to pace down the corridor following the purple thread, "you are. All will be made clear, Dacien. But please, come." By way of a narrow twisting stair down, Dacien and the two minotaurs reached a room small by minotaur standards, but large by Dacien's. It was tiled with dark green hexagons, covering the floor and working their way up the walls until they reached a heavy stone block ceiling. A large set of manacles dangled from a pulley in the center of the room. The room seemed empty otherwise, until Teodor walked over to a green tile marked with a small black triangle, and pushed it in. A click, and a hidden catch released an irregular door in the wall revealing a cabinet filled with whips, and long canes, and other devices that Dacien didn't recognize. He took a step back. Five's trembling had only increased, but Teodor didn't seem to notice. He just shook his head, closed the cabinet, and opened another, marked with a similar catch, and Dacien realized there were four of the cabinets. He didn't see what was in that cabinet, as Teodor shut it firmly just as it began to open, and moved to another, opening it. This contained more canes, and seemed to be what Teodor was looking for, because he turned back to Dacien and Five. "Five!" he said. "Master," Five said, and Dacien could hear raw terror in his voice. "No," said Teodor, and he put his arms around the white-and-black minotaur, holding him. "No, my Five, you have nothing to fear." "But .." "I know," Teodor said, cutting Five off, speaking low. "I know. Do you think I don't?" "You're a great lord ..." whispered Five. "I am," agreed Teodor, not letting go of the still-shaking minotaur. "Dacien, please get the blueish cane out - no, the one below that one - yes, that's the one. Dacien, I know you are full of questions." "Yes," said Dacien. "You must save them for now, and obey. Can you do that?" "Yes, Master." "This is for Five's benefit. Even if you do not understand why I ask what I ask, I cannot stop to explain it," Teodor continued. "My attention will be on him. I need assistance, but it would be disrespectful to Five if I found my attention diverted. So, understanding that, I need your promise to obey me without question." "I understand, Master, and I will." "It may be that my instructions are unclear. If you do not understand an instruction, then you must ask me. Otherwise, carry out your instructions in silence or with a 'Yes, Teodor', as appropriate. Do you understand?" "Yes, Teodor," said Dacien, realizing this must be some kind of formal occasion. "Excellent," Teodor said, briefly releasing Five to slip off his shirt. "There. Strike me with the cane." The question of why dying on his tongue, Dacien swung the cane through the air, and winced as it struck across Teodor's broad back. The minotaur twitched in response to the blow. "Harder," said Teodor. Dacien obeyed, only to hear "Harder," again. "That ... that felt like it may have drawn blood," Teodor said. "Did it?" "I ... no, Master. Teodor." "Harder, then." This time, the cane did draw blood, a thin thin line of red across the minotaur's back. Teodor barely moved. "Is there blood?" "Yes, Teodor." "Good. That, then is how hard you must strike. Thrice more." One. Two. Three. Each laid another thin line of red against the gray pelt. "And each of those?" "Drew blood, Mas - Teodor," Dacien said. This was beginning to alarm him, but the gray minotaur had made it clear - beyond clear - that now was not the time to interrupt him. "My Five," Teodor whispered, caressing the black and white minotaur, "I have neglected you. I want your name, my love." "Take it," said Five. "I offer it. Please ..." "No," said Teodor, almost sadly. "I must take it." "I know," whispered Five. "There are restraints, my love," Teodor said, gesturing to the manacles. "I doubt you'd need them, but you may have them, if you wish." "Thank you, Teodor. I'd ... I'd like them to hold on to." "Dacien, lower the manacles so Five can reach them." The human jumped over to the pulley system, and after a moment, figured out how to lower the chain. It took only a moment for the minotaur to reach the manacles, grasping them, and stretching his hands out the few inches the chain permitted. "Lower, please." Dacien didn't wait for Teodor to tell him, he just lowered them, and when the black and white minotaur said, "That's good," Dacien stopped. From the same cabinet, Teodor produced a leather half-hood, and carefully placed it around Five's head. It covered his eyes, but not his muzzle, and Five was beginning to gasp for air. "Breathe slowly, love," Teodor said. "You're safe here." "Yes, Teodor," the minotaur said, and then, more confidently, "Yes, Teodor." "I am not going to gag you," Teodor said. "You may speak freely, as you need." "Yes, Teodor. Tha - thank you." "Good," breathed Teodor, and took a second cane from the cabinet. He rolled it across Five first, up his legs to his neck, and then back down, around, letting the cool metal warm against the minotaur's chest and the hard ripples of his stomach. The first blow was gentle, across the white of Five's back, as was the second, lower, and the third across the firm rounded muscle at the very base of his spine. In between the soft blows, Teodor tapped Dacien on the shoulder, and mouthed, No, and gestured to the sac and soft maleness that hung between his legs. Another No, and indicated Five's head. Dacien simply nodded, and Teodor bestowed a quick approving smile on him. The strikes of the cane grew no harder, but Teodor did make them faster, and faster, carefully avoiding the areas he'd pointed out to Dacien, and the white and black minotaur began panting, as strikes came down over and over and over, and now Teodor was making them a little harder; Five flinched at some of the blows. They weren't too hard, though, since Five didn't cry out. Dacien wasn't sure how long that lasted, but soon the blows were landing hard enough that Five was crying out, sharp exclamations that were more breath than anything else. It didn't sound like a scream of pain, although Dacien could see the thick muscles in Five's arms tensing and relaxing as the blows fell. It was when Teodor drew blood that the white minotaur bellowed, a wordless howl, and Teodor struck again, and again, until the black blotched white minotaur was covered in thin lines of blood, extending over his back, his arms, both sides of his legs, thin lines criss-crossing his stomach, his chest, even one or two crossing his sides. Five was howling now, with each stroke, mostly without words, but calling out, "Master," "Please," and "Teodor!" His ass had been struck so many times that the drops of blood that were tiny, clinging to the thin scores of the cane, were threatening to drip down, and one did start trickling down his thigh when the tone of his cries changed to one of distress. "Twenty more, love," Teodor said, the first words he'd spoken, and the relentless blows halted. Teodor gestured to Dacien, and indicated that he was to make the blows. Dacien struck as Teodor said, "One," and the blow did not draw blood. Teodor tapped Dacien with his own cane, and then twitched it through the air, hard. Dacien understood - these blows had to be hard enough to cut the pelt, for whatever reason, and he struck - harder on "Two." Another thin red line rewarded his effort, and Teodor nodded approvingly. "Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight." Harder, Teodor gestured to Dacien. "Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve." Harder! "Thirteen. Fourteen." Harder! Five was gasping, almost whimpering at this point, but Dacien did his best to obey, putting most of strength behind the blows. "Fifteen," and while Teodor might have sounded calm, he was watching both of them - Five and Dacien - with what Dacien found almost unnerving attention. "Sixteen," Harder! "Seventeen." Five was sobbing, his hands clenching the steel manacles, and tears were beginning to run down his face. Good, that's good. "Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty." Teodor moved in, took Five in his arms, and whispered, "Let go, love. Let go. Let it all go. It's almost over." Blood was smearing over the gray minotaur, but he didn't seem to notice, or care, as he carefully untied the hood from the crying minotaur, who was clutching Teodor almost convulsively. The gray minotaur took his weight, held him up, and began lowering him to the floor, kneeling with him, comforting him, speaking so softly that Dacien couldn't make out the words. "You are mine," Teodor said. "Mine. My beautiful, handsome, strong, wonderful, dappled slave. Dapple." "Dapple," breathed the white and black minotaur, as he regained control of himself. "Dapple," said Teodor, and stood suddenly. "And you are mine, Dapple, and you are Dacien's, well." "I ..." The gray minotaur stood, and slipped out of trousers. "Dapple," he said, and released a warm stream of yellow liquid over the newly-named minotaur. A quick gesture to Dacien brought him over, and at first, Dacien thought he should kneel, too, but then he realized what Teodor wanted as Teodor shook his head No! Dacien stood, and followed his Master's example, helping to wash the blood from Dapple, who was now breathing quietly, kneeling there, calm, even after they'd finished. Teodor kneeled down, lifted Dapple up, and Dacien caught a glimpse of his face as he bent to help, too, as Teodor nodded at him approvingly. The white and black minotaur's expression was one of entranced bliss. He didn't seem to be seeing what Dacien saw, and he stumbled once or twice as the three of them went back to their rooms. Teodor put a finger to his lips, and Dacien said nothing on the way back. He wasn't sure just where Dapple had gone, but he didn't want to interfere.. They ate from the now-cold food in the lounge, quickly, and even that didn't seem to disturb Dapple's dazed but happy state. The minotaur was starting to make - not noises, not words - but sounds of contentment, reaching out, and touching Dacien, or Teodor, as if that brief contact was some kind of esctatic revelation. Teodor moved them quickly, without seeming rushed, from the lounge to the bedroom. The gray minotaur carefully positioned Dapple between himself and Dacien in the bed, Teodor holding Dapple, Dapple in turn spooned up next to Dacien, the white and black minotaur broke down again, crying himself happily into sleep between his masters.