I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao © 2014 Onyx 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.

Chapter Twenty-Two Part One: Conclusion

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Socks shuddered in the late afternoon sunlight as he watched Master Dellios drag Straw, Wheat, and Bale back into the stable, limp and barely moving. Even now, even after what they'd done, Master Dellios laid them out on the loose hay so carefully ... How could they? Why? Escape! How could they have ... have ... why? Why? Master Dellios was ... wonderful. He treated them - all of them, Socks included, so well ... Why would they behave so ... so ... shamefully? Master Dellios fed them, healed them, trained them, taught them, loved them ... even let them touch one another. Sleep together, at night, every night, and to be repaid by ... deserting their Master. They hadn't said a word about it to him, but then, he supposed they wouldn't. Socks had made his loyalty clear, and ... maybe they hadn't trusted him. He wished they had; he would have told Master, and perhaps Master wouldn't have been so angry at them.

Except ...

Other than waving his hand through the ever-present motes of hay caught in the sunbeams, Master Dellios wasn't angry. Oh, he looked angry, but Socks had spent the last two months working under Master Dellios, trying to teach these three how to behave properly. By this time, Socks could tell exactly how Master Dellios was feeling - and right now, under the veneer of angry, Master Dellios seemed ... pleased. Socks didn't understand that at all. The training had been difficult, and Master Dellios was often angry about the feral's lack of progress and ongoing, subtle defiance. They'd be so much better off if they stopped wasting their energy fighting and just accepted their position - a very favored position, at that. They were being trained as exotic - feral - bodyservants. They would attend their Master at almost every moment - just like Socks was attending Dellios, now.

Socks couldn't imagine anything better than this. He got to sleep in Master Dellios' bed every night. He got to wash Master Dellios. Serve him food, take food from his hand, and Dellios would fuck him ... not every night, but every few days. Socks had never been happier. Although ... the ongoing struggle of the three ferals depressed him. It was so pointless, so counterproductive, so ... baffling. All they had to do was accept Master as Master. Accept that Master was stronger, faster, smarter, better. Accept that, and accept that Master deserved their devotion and service. And Master would shower them with the same acceptance and duties and joys as Socks got. He'd finally realized why Master Dellios was treating him exactly the way he treated the other three - so they would understand that this wasn't punishment, wasn't harshness, wasn't anything but training, but the concern, superior understanding, and outright love of a minotaur for his humans. They would be so happy if they just ... let themselves be so, Socks thought. But they wouldn't. Maybe they couldn't.

Socks hoped not. Nobody deserved that.

But still, he'd expected Master Dellios to be angry. Upset at this continued defiance. Perhaps furious enough to abandon them - Socks hoped not, but ... he wasn't sure if even Master Dellios would want to bother with them anymore. Master Dellios might be the most patient and caring master Socks could imagine - he was, really - but even Master Dellios must have a limit, somewhere. Socks could only hope they hadn't reached it. But ... was that what this was? Finally reaching the point where Master Dellios would simply tell them that training them wasn't worth the effort? Surely at this point nobody could fault Master for giving up on them. Nobody. Not even Socks, really ... although ...

Socks hated to think that Master Dellios could just fail like that. He knew Master Dellios couldn't be perfect, would never expect that, but still ... he felt just a little apprehensive. Master Dellios should be able to make everything ... right.

Socks could feel tears trembling behind his eyes.

The smooth rumble of Dellios' voice broke him out of his thoughts. The minotaur had laid the would-be escapees down on the half-benches Socks had brought in earlier - when Master Dellios had come in to discover the three ferals had vanished early last night. "Socks. Tie down Straw. I don't think he'll fight you." Socks heard the careful warning, to both him and Straw, in those words, and Socks breathed a sigh of relief. It faded as he watched Dellios strap Wheat and Bale down, and Socks fumbled with the leather restraints on Straw. At least the feral wasn't trying to stop him; that would have made a difficult task impossible. Bale was resisting, but that hardly mattered to Dellios. Wheat either saw the futility of resisting when Dellios turned to him, or didn't have any bravado left.

Socks stood behind Straw's half-bench, after he finished securing the other man's wrists behind him. The half-bench had one half raised, so it was almost like a sideless chair with a high padded back and long padded seat. Dellios had used it in other configurations, a full-bench for simple seating, full-upright as a whipping post, but this ... Socks hadn't seen this setup before, and he glanced over at Dellios as he finished up shackling Bale to figure out how to restrain Straw. Arms behind the high back, shackled to a steel restraining tie. Legs back, shackled apart to the two lower half-bench supports. It might look a little unsteady, but underneath the firm leather padding, the benches were weighted steel, and wouldn't tip easily.

Awake, the three men said nothing. It wasn't as if there was much to say, Socks thought. They knew how deep an offense they'd offered Dellios in their escape attempt - Socks had explained it to them, that Master would take it as insult, and even though Socks didn't think they understood why it was a serious insult, they knew Master would see it that way.

Dellios stood when he'd finished restraining Wheat, and took a moment to run a hand over Wheat's hair, down to his neck. It was meant to be reassuring, Socks thought, although why Master Dellios would want to be reassuring was beyond Socks. Wheat's flinch at even that touch seemed to disappoint Dellios, who withdrew his hand.

All three of them, Socks thought, looked shaken. Upset. Dispirited. Here and there, he could see bruises starting to form - and Socks knew, now, that Master Dellios would have inflicted exactly the damage he'd intended, no more, no less. But ...

"There will be no punishment for this," Master Dellios said, quietly. "If there is a failure here, it is mine. Set your fear of that aside." The pale green minotaur drew a knife, and began cutting away Wheat's tunic, but carefully, pulling the sharp blade away from the skin as the fabric parted neatly, and he pulled Wheat's tunic out, and then did the same to his trousers, leaving the man naked on the bench.

"There will be consequences, however." Dellios said, after a pause. "I had thought - hoped - you three could support one another through your transitions. I had thought - hoped - that you would work together to understand your new roles and find contentment together. I had thought - hoped - that leaving the three of you together would be a kindness in this new land.

"It is now clear that this is not so. I do not blame you; it is my fault you had insufficient structure to support your training. I am the one - the only one - who is at fault, and I must beg your forgiveness for it. I picked you for your determination and strength - you've shown me that, and it is that very strength, that very determination, that tells me you can be among the finest slaves I've ever trained. For my part, I assure you that you will have all the structure you require to succeed.

"And you will, once you put this folly behind you. I will teach you to embrace your lives here. You will learn," Dellios said, caressing Wheat's face gently. The man turned his face away from the gesture, and the minotaur gave a small sigh of regret.

"Sometimes even minotaurs need to learn the hard way," Dellios said softly. "I have done so. I had hoped I could spare you that, but ... I see now that it is the very strength that I admired in you - in all of you - that makes the lessons so hard."

The green minotaur walked almost slowly over to the wide worktable at the side of the stables, picked up an odd-shaped leather wrap - no, not a wrap, Socks realized; it was a sort of holder for the knife, that wrapped around it and snapped shut, leaving only an inch or so of the handle sticking out of the deep brown-red leather.

He reached over to a large leather valise, and Socks belatedly recognized it as one that had been in Dellios' work closet, far in the back, on the floor, as if it were something he did not use often. Or, Socks thought uneasily, something he did not care to remember that he had.

But all that came out of it - for now, at least - was something like a steel pan, and a couple of steel bowls. And then a steel scoop, and a sealed glass jar two-thirds full of white powder. Dellios carefully undid the leather straps holding the lid in place, and twisted it open. A scoop of powder went into the steel tray, another into the bowl.

At first Socks thought Dellios had poured water into the bowl and pan, but a few moment later, as the harsh smell of raw spirits joined the stable-scents of old leather mixed with wood and drying hay, he knew it wasn't.

Another leather wrap, larger than the one holding the knife, came from the bag, and Dellios opened it cautiously, glancing back at the three restrained men, and at Socks - and there was just the barest hint of a smile as his gaze moved to Socks. Even that restrained, almost invisible sign of approval was enough to quiet Sock's growing fears. Clearly, Master Dellios had planned for this; maybe ... maybe it wasn't as awful as Socks had thought. Maybe he should just trust Master Dellios.

Of course he could trust Master Dellios, and Socks looked back at the pale green minotaur - respectfully, of course.

Dellios had turned back to the table, to the smaller, delicate tools ... Socks couldn't quite see them. Minotaur tools were steel, of course, but these glinted bright silver as he selected several of them, and carefully dropped them into the pan. A larger, odder tool, of that same silvery steel, made a small splash as it joined them. From another packet, Dellios pulled small steel rings - no, not quite rings, they had a gap - and those, too, went into the pan. A moment's search and three small, delicate pliers joined them. Several thick, short, curved pieces of steel also plunked into the pan with a surprising lack of splash.

From his pocket, Dellios produced yet another leather pouch, and pulled out - something small, that glittered gold and not steel-silver. Something on it caught the stray sunlight for a moment and flashed with a deep green fire before it, too, went into the pan - adding it carefully, very carefully, not the way he'd added the previous things.

Unsurprisingly - to Socks, at least - it was Bale who broke the silence, or tried to. He said something, or at least he started to say something, and then Dellios was no longer at the worktable, moving with inhuman speed. Instead, he was standing over Bale, finishing securing a gag around Bale's head. For good measure, he then strapped the gag itself to the half-bench, securing Bale's head firmly against the leather. "I have been too tolerant and permissive of your bad habits; you three deserve better of me, and you shall have it."

Dellios turned a bland expression on Straw, and then Wheat, before continuing. "Are my words clear enough for you?"

Straw nodded, followed a moment later by Wheat.

"I am pleased to be understood," Dellios said. "Continue to please me." He walked back to the workbench, looked over what he'd done. A brief frown, and then he reached down underneath the table, and pulled out a large irregular piece of leather, and set it carefully over the table, draping it several inches over the edge.

"Socks, come here."

Socks hurried over to the workbench, and Dellios effortlessly picked him up, and sat him on the table, facing the three other men. He tried not to look nervous ...

"This is not punishment, Socks, but a reward." Dellios said as he lifted Sock's tunic off him, over his head. At least, Socks thought, he's not cutting it off me. "Hold still." The minotaur pulled a cloth from under the table, dipped it into the bowl, wiped down Sock's upper chest. The fumes made Sock's eyes water, alcohol and some pungent sharp lemony scent. It dried quickly and cold, as Dellios pulled a smaller bottle out, and poured a few reddish drops onto a small leather scrap. The green minotaur picked up the leather, and smeared the stuff over his left nipple - and it was clear Dellios was not getting any of the stuff on himself.

"It will ... feel cold, and then a little strange, and then numb," Dellios commented. "Tell me when the strangeness goes away."

"Yes, Master," said Socks, looking down at himself, and then glancing at the pan with all the hardware soaking in whatever Dellios had dosed the raw spirits with. Among all the various steel bits and pieces - and Socks could see now what had looked like short steel rods were really curved steel plates with holes in them - was a curved gold length tipped with two green stones, no more than an inch long. But if Master wanted to tell him what it was, Master would tell him.

And then he felt ... a sort of sharp buzzing on the nipple, where Dellios had put the stuff ... "It ... uh ..." Socks searched for the right word. "It sort of ... tingles. It's ..."

"It's a strange sensation, yes," agreed Dellios, absently, as he fished the pliers out of the solution and set them down on the leather to Sock's side, and then a short, thin steel rod, like a thin knitting needle, followed by the short gold curved. "It will go away, and the area will be numb for a few hours. Close to numb. Numb enough."

That didn't ... "Master? I don't understand."

"Oh," said Dellios, still laying things out, and unscrewing one of the glittering emerald knobs from the short gold curve. "Ah ... it's a little complicated, but I suppose I could say that your sense of touch is really a shorthand for many different sensations. Touch. Pressure. Heat. Pain. Cold. What I applied shuts off your sense of touch, but not ... pressure. You'll still feel pressure. I doubt that makes much sense, though."

"Not really, Master," Socks admitted.

"Not surprising," said Dellios, laying out a few of the odd tools. "Let me demonstrate, then. I'd like you to look up at the ceiling. You'll feel something - a little pressure, nothing else. It will be odd. Continue looking up until I tell you to stop."

Having clear instructions - even if they didn't seem to make sense - still made Socks feel that much better, and he could feel himself relax as he looked upwards. There was the strangest feeling on his nipple, a push that happened almost at the same time as soft pop and then ... the feeling just got ... wierder. Like his nipple was being ... expanded? Pushed from the inside? He almost looked down, but Master had said to keep looking up, so he did.

"Very well done, Socks," Dellios' voice said, and the minotaur's huge body occluded the ceiling as Dellios bent down to give him a kiss. "I am so pleased with you ..."

"Thank you, Master," Socks said, although ...

"You may look down now."

Socks did. He took a deep breath of surprise ... the curved gold bar was now through his nipple - that was what he felt. The two emerald end-pieces fell just beyond the pale brown of his nipple, on the softer tan of his chest. There was a drop of blood welling out of the ... cut? No, hole, the hole, and Dellios dabbed another cloth into the bowl, and wiped him clean.

"That is ..." and the pale green minotaur stopped. "That is so lovely on you, Socks." The minotaur gave Socks another quick kiss. "Gorgeous. Just like you." He leaned in, whispering "I knew I could depend on you to go first," so quietly that Socks knew the words were meant for him alone.

His master ... had depended on him? Socks was stunned, as Dellios lifted him down from the table. "Now, it will hurt in a few hours when that wears off ... or it would, but I have other plans." Dellios turned to the three other men. All three of them looked back at him, but Straw and Wheat didn't say anything, and Bale, of course, couldn't. The green minotaur nodded to himself, walked over to the three benches, and proceeded to gag Straw, and then Wheat exactly as he had Bale.

"There," said Dellios, and he turned to look at the door. "I was expecting ... some assistants. I expected they'd be here some time ago. I don't understand why they are ... delayed." The minotaur frowned. "This is unexpected." He put the pliers he'd used on Sock's piercing back into the pan, and shook his head. "Socks, stay here. If there's a problem, call me or fetch one of the field overseers."

Socks nodded, "Yes, Master."

"I should be back ... shortly," said Dellios, who walked over to the door, and stepped out.

Time seemed to pass very slowly in the stables, as slowly as the bars of light on the floor. It wasn't cold, but by the time Dellios returned with three more short-horned minotaurs - two of a soft butter-yellow, and one a softly tinted pastel blue - he was relieved. The newcomers wore similar tunics, trousers, and robes of dark green - guild green - marking them as members of Iudas' guild, although Socks wasn't quite sure what that was.

Dellios walked directly over to Socks, and put a hand on the human. "This is Socks, and he's mine. These are Bale, Wheat and Straw," he said, gesturing to each of the three men in turn. "Nickolai, you'll work with Bale. Addrissant, Wheat."

"Then I suppose I have that one," the last minotaur - one of the butter-yellow ones - said, looking at Straw.

"That was the general idea, yes. It's a shame you missed Sock's piercing."

"Aren't you doing the others, too?"

"Yes, but they're not getting that kind of decoration," Dellios said. "A nipple is fairly easy to pierce, and ..." he stopped. "Well. It's hardly uncommon. I'm sure you'll have other opportunities to see that."

"We've seen it. I'm more interested in ..."

"Yes," Dellios cut him off. "Are all of you prepped for the ritual? I'm expecting each one of you to perform it."

"Yes," sighed the blue one - Nickolai, who'd gotten Bale. Socks almost felt sorry for him. "We're all ready."

"Good. Then let's get started," Dellios said, walking over to Bale. "Socks, bring me a clean rag, and the bowl. The rest of you, stay back a little; you'll still be able to see."

"You're doing mine first?" Nickolai sounded surprised. "Should I prep the circle?"

"No," said Dellios. "It would probably get smudged. You'll need to have him in the center first, and then you can do the setup."

"But ..." Nickolai looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'd like to heal him as soon as you're done."

"Then you have incentive to get the circle done right and quickly," Dellios said.

"But ... I mean, couldn't we ... doesn't Iudas have a workroom?"

"Yes," Dellios said. "But I'm not going to let you use it. In the field, if you have to set this up, you'll have to get the circle right yourself." He paused. "Besides which, once I'm done here, I'm taking Socks to the workroom, so ... it will be in use."

"You're not going to ..." started the other yellow minotaur.

"No," said Dellios. "I might, but that would be absurd when Mathom is a second-grade magician. He will supervise your work."

"But you were supposed to ..." Nickolai, the soft blue minotaur, said.

"I have told you what I expect," Dellios said with a hint of irritation. "Setting the circles will be good practice for both of you, and Mathom will do his circle first to demonstrate, and that will be good practice for him, just as monitoring your efforts will be good practice for him. And for you. I am barely a first-grade magician, and if we didn't have Mathom here, we would be using the workroom."

"Thank you," said Mathom. "Is that why you accepted me?"

"I accepted you for many reasons," Dellios said. "That qualification is at once directly applicable, and like any qualification, demonstrates an ability to gain mastery. But mostly, I accepted you based on your application statement. I looked to your qualifications - and this goes for all three of you - to better understand your statement.

"First lesson. Nickolai. What is the most important thing in this room?" asked Dellios.

"Uh ... I don't understand, Senior."

"Clearly," said Dellios, looking at the three, and focusing on the gold. "Addrissant?"

"Wheat, Senior."

"Correct," Dellios said approvingly. "Mathom?"

"Straw, Senior."

"Correct. Nickolai?"

"Bale," Nickolai said ruefully. "Senior."

Dellios nodded. "Keep your attention where it belongs. So ... can anyone tell me the next step? Nickolai?"

"We should - I need to check Bale, and understand his health," the blue minotaur sighed. "Convince myself he's physically able to tolerate -"

"No," interrupted Dellios, and his pale green hand drifted up to tap his cheek thoughtfully. "Suppose I were to tell you that one of these humans has a flaw, that could kill him if he isn't cared for correctly. Perhaps I have deliberately misled you. Perhaps I have missed something. Any of those things might be true."

"But ..." said Mathom, "if that's the case then ..."

"Then you are being tested. Severely. So, you must ask yourself - am I prepared to lose one of my humans to prevent an incompetent, irresponsible Master of Slave from losing hundreds?"

The three minotaurs gave Dellios a startled glance, and then looked back at the three ferals."

"I ... yes," said Nickolai, swallowing. "You are that severe."

"And do you fault me for that?"

"I ..." Nickolai went quiet. "Senior," he said finally, "I do not know."

"Consider this. If you do not fault me at least once, I will consider you to have failed."

"Senior?" said Mathom. "Do you mean that you expect us to disagree with you? Do you have something in mind?"

Dellios smiled. "Perhaps. In any case, introduce yourself to these ferals ... I will start. Straw. Bale. Wheat. It is clear that you each need more attention than I can give you alone, so I am turning over your daily routines to them. You will obey them, better than you have obeyed me." The green minotaur's muzzle smoothed to an almost grim non-expression. "Do not mistake that last comment as either request or instruction."

Socks felt a chill go down his spine. He wasn't sure what Master Dellios meant by that, but if it wasn't a request, and it wasn't an instruction ... it could only be a warning. He could only feel relieved it wasn't addressed to him ... shouldn't he feel sorry for his fellow slaves? He should, he really should ... and maybe he did. He hoped. Except ...

"I shall return in an hour or so. Examine your human, and have him prepared when I return."

"Yes, Senior," the three said in a slightly offset chorus.

"Socks," said Dellios more quietly. "Come with me." Dellios led Socks out of the barn, and past the fields of knee-high barley back into the house - not through the back, this time, but through a door leading into the study.

Two rooms away from the dining room ... Socks had thought he was over the incident, but he found himself a little nervous as he walked in, and even more nervous when he realized Iudas was there, laying out little squares of heavy paper across the huge desk.

"Dellios," said Iudas almost absently, hardly looking away from the desk. "How did ..." and then the grass-green minotaur turned to look at him, and then to inspect Socks. "I see. Never mind. Your students?"

"Settled."

Iudas nodded. "Should I have Evert assign slaves to their rooms, or will that be part of the training?"

Dellios shook his head. "Yes. No."

"Very well." Iudus looked across the many notes on his desk, and then up to Dellios. "You know someone's lying."

"I don't know that," said Dellios. "At one point I thought I knew that, but I no longer think I did. I simply believed it."

"Much as I love him, my brother did not have instincts for business," sighed Iudas. "He would never have arranged the sale himself."

"Every broker we know - that we can find - has claimed to be uninvolved."

"Therefore, someone is lying," said Iudas.

"I had a thought," said Dellios, "when I invited Mathom to come for training."

"You did?"

"I did."

"And this thought is relevant?"

"I think it was."

"Well, perhaps it was," Iudas said, nodding. "You'll understand I withhold any opinion until you share it."

Dellios snorted. "Is that a manifestation of your business instincts?"

"It may be. Come, Coz, tell me."

"Well ... you know that there are a number of bulls interested in the care of humans."

"Yes. Such as yourself, for example."

"Such as myself, yes. And most of the training is ... unexceptional. It consists of learning the apothecaries relevant to humans, mastering some basic rituals, understanding human anatomy, a great many different disciplines feed into being an effective Master of Slave."

"Yes ..." said Iudas, more carefully.

"And then there are some, call them secrets, call them advanced techniques, call them what you wish, but they are not so easily shared nor demonstrated. Not that a Master of Slave need know all of them, or even any of them."

"I know. And you feel obligated to pass them on ... even though you disapprove of them," Iudas said. "Which baffles me, Coz."

"Yes. I warned them they'd regret it, but if they really wanted to learn, I would show them."

"I am following you, Coz, but I am not following you."

Dellios snorted again, and Socks tried not to let his puzzlement show. "I am working up to it."

"And I am listening."

"I approached the ten best, informed them I would train three, and invited them to write a letter explaining why they were suited for learning this, and why they wanted to learn it."

"Yes, and from those you picked three."

"That was my thought."

Iudas paused. "And this is ... relevant?"

"I approached the ten best," repeated Dellios.

"I heard ..." said Iudas and then stopped. "But that would be ..."

Dellios shrugged. "Perhaps Xerxes was likewise approached. It was a ... difficult time for him."

"For all of us," murmured Iudas. "That could be ... consistent ... with what we know. But ... does it help us find him?"

Dellios sighed. "I don't know. Probably not. But ..."

"It's a new thought," said Iudas. "Worth considering." His gaze shifted to Socks, and Socks felt himself grow a little warm as he realized Iudas was staring at the gold-and-emerald ornament in his nipple. "So this is the fellow you've taken for yourself, then. And ... decorated, too, very pretty. I think I like it, Coz. But why not a matched set?"

"One seemed enough. Why?"

"No reason," said Iudas. "The asymmetry is ... somewhat charming, really. Striking, cert ... Dellios! he's bleeding," Iudas said in a shocked tone.

"Piercings take a significant time to heal on their own. I had planned ..."

"To use my workroom?"

"At some convenient point, yes."

Iudas nodded. "Fine. Go ahead." Iudas gestured toward the display shelf, oddly crowded with heavy carved crystal objects - Socks had time to pick a swan and a curled-up cat out of the menagerie before the shelf swung aside, revealing a wide set of stairs going down. "It's set up for me, though."

"Do you want me to set it back?"

"No!" said Iudas, frowning. "Absolutely not."

Socks wondered about that as he dutifully followed Dellios down the winding stairs, into an unusual chamber.

Very unusual, as he looked around the circular chamber. This was unlike any other room he'd ever seen. To begin with, the floor was sloped, down, towards the center; not steeply, but noticeably, although there was a four-foot or so flat rim around it. Thin black lines marked out a compass rose onto the flat creamy white stone, and almost immediately inside the slope were a second set of marks, this time in blue. At first, Socks thought it was a compass rose, too - but the marks didn't align exactly; only at the largest four that marked North, South, East and West. And then Socks noticed a third set of inlay, far less regular - thin purple marks beside the black ones, regular, but there were only a few of them. The largest black marks - and interior blue marks, as well - also had ... things sitting on the floor. A chalice at the north and south; a sword sitting in the west, and a brazier in the east. "Stay where you are," murmured Dellios. He walked around the circle, moving the objects back onto the shelves that lined the room, and then he set up a brazier at north and south, lighting a floral incense in it, taking exceptional care to align the braziers with the marks.

From the shelves, he took stones, and set them down carefully, too; five stones, at precise marks, but the spacing seemed irregular to Socks. "There. That will do. Socks, I need you at the center of the circle."

"Yes, Master," said Socks, a little nervously. "Will ... will this hurt?"

"Hurt ... no," said Dellios, frowning slightly. "You've ... ah. No. This won't hurt. This is a minor ritual to heal the piercing," he said. "That's all. It will take about a half-hour. All you have to do is simply sit in the center of the circle. It would heal completely on its own, but that could take as long as month. You might start to regain feeling ... what I used on you wears off in an hour or two, but if I can get this done, it should prevent any hurt at all." A faint minotaur frown ghosted across his muzzle. "And there's one more thing I need ... I'll be back in a moment."

"Yes, Master," said Socks with a sigh.

Dellios came quickly back down the stairs, holding a vase of orange-red marsh lilies and a small potted fern. He put the fern at the east, and then turned to the shelf, and took down a plain wooden box. He took off the lid, and removed a heavy book. "Never hurts to check ..." he said, paging carefully through the book. "Here." Dellios studied the page for a moment.

"Master?"

"Yes, Socks?"

"Master, what are you doing? Could I help?"

"Thank you for asking, Socks," Dellios said. "But ... hmmm. I can't think of any reason a human couldn't do this, but ... this is ritual magic, and everything has to be perfect. Usually the magician - that's me - sets up everything himself simply to be certain that everything's right. It is painfully easy to get something wrong. Even the way those stones are facing matters." Dellios glanced around the circle. "Ah. The timing of the ritual is important, too. Not only the right actions, but taken at the right time, and minotaur have an advantage at that."

As it turned out, it didn't hurt, unless boredom counted as hurt. Dellios walked around the circle with a long wooden stick in one hand, and a sword in the other, sometimes raising them, sometimes lowering them, and sometimes pointing them directly at Socks. It did feel ... odd, one or two times, but when Dellios had completed the tenth walk around the circle, and put the stick and sword back on the shelves, Socks discovered - the wound had closed, and the skin had regrown. Other than that, the only other thing of interest was the fern, which had slowly unrolled a new frond as Dellios patiently made his way around and around the circle.

Socks noticed Dellios giving it a puzzled glance as they went back upstairs. Iudas had left the study; and they made their way back to the stables. Wheat and Straw were still - no, Socks realized, they'd been let out and then returned to their restraints. Mathom and Addrissant were holding Bale down while Nickolai was inspecting him.

"Ah. Nickolai. What ... ah. Yes. Of course, I understand," said Dellios, taking in the scene quickly. "Pity you're not quite done ..."

"I am done now, Senior," Nickolai said. "I cast no aspersions, but this feral is ... particularly poorly behaved."

"I wish I could say that surprised me," Dellios said regretfully. "I did not expect him to put up such a fuss about an inspection, however. He went through the first one ..."

"He volunteered that one should be sufficient, although ... it was put more crudely, Senior," Nickolai said.

Dellios simply sighed. "Addrissant, what did you find?"

Socks listened quietly as the minotaurs reported their findings. Dellios listened patiently to the recital, nodding occasionally. The only time he looked surprised was when Addrissant reported that Wheat had an irregular heart. When they were finished, Dellios went over to Wheat, and placed his head - no, ear, very cautiously along the human's chest, so as not to gore him with a horn. He listened for a moment. "What am I listening for?"

"A secondary echo. Very faint, but distinct, Senior."

Dellios gave a short, careful nod, listening carefully, and then said, "I do hear it. Addrissant, you'll need to take him to Maze to see Lord Tarragon. Well done. I did not notice this."

"It is ... very minor, Senior," the cream-colored minotaur said respectfully.

"In your judgment, we may proceed, then?"

"Yes, Senior," Addrissant said.

"Thank you," Dellios murmured absently, walking back over to the workbench. He picked up the bowl and pan. "Socks, bring me one of the washing-cloths. Two. Bring two," he called back over his shoulder as he walked towards the bench with Bale.

Socks prudently grabbed four. He wasn't sure what Master Dellios wanted them for, and ... he could always put the unused ones back. By the time he'd reached the bench where the still-struggling feral human was chained, Socks had caught up with him. Dellios straddled the bench, setting the bowl and pan down on the soft brown leather. Socks silently handed the cloth to the pale green minotaur, and he dipped it into the bowl.

Socks had thought that Master Dellios was going to pierce Bale's nipples, but that's not where he put the cloth. Master Dellios was scrubbing Bale's cock, and ... and ... Socks realized that Bale had been shaved; all the thick golden hair that had wreathed his cock and his sack - gone. The skin was smooth, almost shiny. Socks felt his stomach cramp with ... not fear, precisely, but some kind of sympathetic dread as Dellios carefully cleaned that thin, delicate skin and Bale's inner thighs. Bale was making some kind of sound, perhaps trying to talk through the gag, but only a few quiet sounds made it out. He was tense, though, twitching against the restraints as if they might, against all expectation, release him.

And as if that would do him any good, Socks thought to himself. Master Dellios had already decided what was going to happen. It would happen, nothing could change that, not now. Maybe Bale would learn to behave ... Socks sighed, but silently, and only to himself. He simply had to trust Master Dellios would make things right. And if things could be right for Bale and the other ferals, then Master Dellios would make them so, Socks knew. Master Dellios would make things right. Master Dellios would make things right.

Socks wanted to believe that so much.

The other minotaurs were watching closely, but when Master Dellios had done nothing more exciting than use the washcloth, Socks had let his attention drift a little. He almost missed it - might have missed the entire thing, if Master Dellios hadn't said, "Glue."

Moving with that same unbelievable speed that minotaurs had, Master Dellios pulled several of the curved steel bands out of the pan, and fit them together around Bale's sack. Mathom offered a small bottle with a dropper, and Dellios used a single drop of - glue, Socks guessed - to fasten together a small steel ring around the base of Bale's sack. Another curved piece slipped between the two heavy stones to separate them, and another two drops of glue to fasten that to the base ring. At least the metal was curved, Socks thought. Sharp edges ... that wasn't somewhere he would want sharp edges.

No.

But Master Dellios wasn't done. Somehow there was one of those needles in his hand - a rather larger one than he'd used on Socks. Socks somehow knew what Master Dellios was about to do even if he didn't want to believe it, and the placement of the needle surprised him. Master Dellios pulled back the skin around tip of Bale's cock, and -

• jabbed -

• the needle through the underside and up, in one quick stroke, with a sort of popping sound that made Socks cringe. With sure skill, he pulled another half-circle length of steel and threaded it through the passage he'd just created. Bale had jerked back, but the restraints kept him from moving more than a fraction of an inch, and Dellios' grip on his cock hadn't so much as wavered. Another half-circle of steel that had tiny ... pins? ... that ... ah, that went into tiny matching holes on the ring Dellios had inserted. Two more tiny drops of glue, and there was a perfect circle of steel through the head of Bale's cock.

Dellios used the second rag to wipe up the surprisingly small amount of blood, and Socks relaxed, thinking it was over.

But now Dellios brought out those strange curved plates. Another moment, a few more drops of glue, and Bale's cock was now caught in a steel tube that was fastened to the ring through the head, and the ring around his balls. A very small tube. It wouldn't be large enough when Bale got hard to hold - no, Bale simply wouldn't be able to get hard, beyond what that tiny tube allowed. Almost nothing at all. Socks tried not to cringe as Master Dellios applied a pale gray ointment to the wound.

"That all seems straightforward," Nickolai said thoughtfully. "Other than the actual piercing. It seemed painful."

"It is," Dellios said. "But not overly so. It will be painful and sensitive until it has healed. Two to three weeks, without intervention, but ... there is no point in waiting."

"Quite right, Senior," said Mathom. "We should do the other two, and then move right to the healing. Senior, given that Wheat has that unexpected heart condition, would it be a reasonable for Addrissant to use the workroom? There's a sort of ... temporary fix, for cardiac problems. It's general, and only lasts a month or so, but I thought ..."

"I didn't know there was such a thing," Addrissant admitted. "How complex is the ritual?"

Mathom nodded. "It's ... I beg your forgiveness, Addrissant, but ... it would be challenging even for me. I would not care to try it outside of a formal circle; certainly not in the circles we'll be making here."

"There is nothing to forgive; that is simply the truth," Addrissant said. "Would you trust me with Straw?"

"If you would trust me with Wheat, and, of course, if Dellios approves the change."

"I ... don't approve, but I agree it's the best option. Had I realized this would be needed, I would have given Wheat to you, Mathom."

The gold minotaur shrugged. "It may have worked out best this way, Senior. I am not sure I would have heard and recognized what Addrissant did."

Dellios nodded. "That ... yes. When put that way, I think things have worked out for the best." He picked up the bowl, and moved over to Wheat. "We'll do Wheat next, and then ..." he paused. "Socks, could you get me two more clean ..." and stopped as Socks silently handed over the additional washing-cloths. "Very good, Socks. Clean up Bale's bench, and throw the used ones into the laundry."

"Yes, Master Dellios." Socks was never so glad to get an order as he was to get that one. He was deliberately a little slow, so when that terrible pop came again, muted by the twenty feet or so from where Wheat was being ... locked up, he barely heard it.

It didn't help, though, not for Wheat, and not for Straw, afterward, either.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter, Dellios refers to the healing times for genital piercings being 2-3 weeks. This is true for the humans in this story, who are neohumans . Neohumans heal much faster than humans. If a human were to get such a piercing, it would take significantly longer to heal.