I, Dacien

A Story by Onyx Tao © 2014 Onyx Tao

I. Dacien by Onyx Tao is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at onyx-tao.sofurry.com.

Chapter Twenty-Two Part Three: Conclusion

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Straw hadn't said much, the last few days they'd been working together, but at least they could talk. Unlike Addrissant, Mathom was willing to let the two of them alone once Straw had, as Mathom put it, settled down. But Sock's experiences with Wheat had prepared him for just how much he'd have to teach Straw: everything.

At least ... he knew, this time, to explain that although linen could go out in the sun, the silks absolutely could not. Socks shuddered over that memory and the recollection of Addrissant's expression when he'd discovered that the back of his blue dressing gown had both faded and yellowed, so that while the front was still the same light sky blue with soaring cranes, the back looked like a pond choked with green water and drowned birds.

After a moment of dismay, though, Addrissant - thankfully - had just laughed it off.

Even so, Socks had no intention of repeating that mistake. There would undoubtedly be plenty of new mistakes to make while he was showing Straw all the things a personal slave needed to know.

Still, Socks couldn't help but wonder, and finally, he asked. "What's it ... like, wearing that tube?"

"Awful," said Straw, reaching down to touch it. "It's awful. But ... Mathom was right when he said it would help me accept him. Accept that I'm a slave, now, and get on with my life."

"Still? Even after ..."

"It was worse, right after Mathom put it on me," Straw admitted. "The first week was ... I don't know how I did it. It's ... not as bad now. It's still awful, but ..." he paused. "Mathom ... helps. When I ask him. Sometimes ... even when I don't."

"When Mathom helps, is it so bad?"

Straw looked down at the metal tube trapping his maleness. "Yes. No. I don't know. No, I guess. Mathom is ... but ..." Straw looked up. "I hate it. I hope my next Master will take it off."

Socks just nodded, and kept his thoughts to himself.

* * *

It was three weeks later when Nickolai closed the door into Dellios' study carefully, and his glance lingered on Socks for a moment. Dellios had been working on something - a report, Socks thought, on Addrissant and Mathom - but the green minotaur set the paper aside to give the blue his full attention.

"More defiance?"

"Yes, Senior," said Nickolai. "I am ... beginning to give some serious thought to the view that some humans are simply beyond civilizing."

"That is not an acceptable position for a guild member," Dellios observed.

"And did I say I espoused it?" asked Nickolai. "Surely I can voice a thought without being thought heretical."

Dellios dipped his pen in the small dish of water to clean it, and returned it to the glass pen-holder. "Surely you can. What has happened now? More violence?"

"No," said Nickolai. "Well, not as such. Thankfully. He seems to have learned that it is pointless to offer me violence, and I have not seen fit to return any of his privileges. He sees no other humans, no other minotaur. Merely me. For six weeks, I have tended him, and for the last two, in silence."

"Harsh."

Nickolai nodded. "I must admit his defiance is ... rather charming, in a way. It speaks to his strength and resolve, especially given his condition, chaste and inflamed as he his."

"Violence is a common outlet for sexual frustration," Dellios said.

"I know, and I expected it. But ... he, too, has gone silent. As of yesterday, the threats and insults ceased. He has found a new defiance, and one that worries me. I left him in full restraints, Senior, with a footman watching him from the observation post."

"You think he may do himself harm?"

"I ... he now refuses food and water."

"Water? How long has he gone without water?" asked Dellios instantly.

"Nearly ten hours."

"Ferals," sighed Dellios. "Force-feeding him does not seem like a way forward."

"That was my thought, Senior."

"Does he understand what lack of water will do, or how soon?"

Nickolai shifted his head. "I had assumed so. It seems reasonable. But I do not know for sure, Senior."

"I suspect he may not realize the full complications," Dellios said. "But it is pointless to tell him now; it would only make him more stubborn."

"Senior," Nickolai burst out, "he has been with me, and only me, for six weeks. How has he not succumbed to me?"

Dellios frowned and his eyes flickered over to Socks, before returning to the blue minotaur. "What makes you think he hasn't?"

Nickolai paused. "He doesn't act ..."

"He is, as you point out, a most frustratingly obstinate feral."

"True," said Nickolai. "But you think he's affected?"

Dellios paused, thinking. "Unless you wish to posit he is immune, he must be."

"Then why ..." Nickolai stopped to think. "There should be some way to test that."

"If he suffers withdrawal syndrome," started Dellios.

"We cannot trust other humans near him. Nor do I trust that he will not harm himself," Nickolai said, and then added, "and if he is? What then?"

"Indeed," said Dellios. "What then? More importantly, what now. Immediately, we need make certain he does not suffer dehydration complications."

"Of course. Forced feeding?"

"What do you think?"

"I am extremely reluctant to do that," Nickolai said. "It would be the wrong course of action ..." and he paused. "In fact, everything we've done has been wrong, hasn't it?"

Dellios looked up, affronted.

"Senior, with all due respect, you cannot argue that anything we've done has been effective or useful for Bale." Nickolai's expression changed slightly. "We had the best intentions, and proceeded with our best understanding ... but that does not change the results. True?"

"True," said Dellios.

"Then we should change our approach."

"Again, true, but trivially so. Unless you propose a new approach."

"So far we have set Bale against us," Nickolai said. "I propose to set Bale against Bale."

"That was the intent of the chastity tube," Dellios pointed out.

"Yes," agreed Nickolai, "but it failed."

"It worked for Straw and Wheat!"

"It did," Nickolai acknowledged. "But it did not work for Bale."

"It ... did not," admitted Dellios. "You think he ..."

"Reframed it," Nickolai said. "In his mind, it was us, not himself. He's quite ingenious, in a primitive way."

"Influence goes both ways," said Dellios.

"I know," said Nickolai. "That's what keeps us - me - from giving up on him, true?"

"I don't know," said Dellios. "Is your objectivity so impaired?"

"It was a joke," said Nickolai.

"And it was moderately humorous," said Dellios. "But the subject is serious, and if there is truth to that statement?"

"Some," admitted Nickolai, sounding unconcerned.

"How much?"

"It is not a matter for concern."

"Of course it is a matter for concern," said Dellios.

"Senior, if I may speak freely ..."

"Speak."

"I think you are projecting."

"Do you." Dellios' voice was more than a little chilly.

"Senior ... with all respect, I do."

Dellios looked at Nickolai for a long, long moment. "I understand why you might think that. You are mistaken, Junior. My greatest concern after the ferals is you. The hardest thing any guildmember learns is objectivity. It is a constant struggle, but without it, we cannot do our duty. And we cannot help but be influenced by our charges. They are, after all, our care. Thus, it is not perfect objectivity that we strive for - that's impossible - but to know when our objectivity is compromised, and seek guidance when that happens. It has happened to me. It happened to Addrissant. It happened to Mathom. It will happen to you. The lesson here is not to avoid it, or learn to avoid it, because that lesson is beyond anyone.

"The lesson is to recognize it when it happens, to tell when one's judgment is impaired, so that one can seek guidance."

"My judgment is not impaired."

"So you say," said Dellios, and then, before Nickolai could speak, continued. "Perhaps it is true. But if it be true, then it is only true in that your judgment is not impaired yet."

"Senior, I am ..."

"Unique, among every minotaur who has ever breathed?" asked Dellios. "I suppose that's possible. But is it not more likely that you are deceived?"

"I am not deceived!"

"You are," said Dellios flatly. "You cannot deny it is more likely that you are deceived than it is that you are unique, and right there, that suggests you are not hearing what I am saying. You are defending yourself against an accusation I did not make. You are not thinking clearly."

"I ... "

"Stop," said Dellios. "Stop. Look around. Recognize that you have dug yourself a mighty hole, and stop digging."

"I ... I think it is you who are mistaken, Senior."

"I accept the possibility that it is so," said Dellios. "A sign of an open, functioning mind. I invite you to present your evidence that contradicts my views."

Nickolai took a breath, and then let it out. "Perhaps ... Guild-Senior, I would like some time to consider the things you have had the duty to tell me. But I am concerned that Bale will come to harm."

Dellios nodded. "That would be a good place to start, how your concern for Bale's welfare is coloring your opinions. Have no fear of - or for - Bale. I will induce him to drink."

"You ..."

Dellios tilted his head. "I have said it. Do you doubt me?"

"I ... see no ... forgive me, Guild-Senior. It is not you I distrust, but Bale. So I doubt."

"Doubt is healthful, and I encourage you to entertain it on all matters," Dellios said. "As to Bale, you have not lost my confidence, Nickolai, I think you are up to this task and will complete it. But you must grapple with this problem of objectivity first, before you take that task up again. Accordingly, until I am satisfied, I will take responsibility for our last and most ferocious feral. You are not to see him, talk to him, communicate with him, or even be near him, until you have my explicit permission."

"But - yes, Guild-Senior," Nickolai said.

"Tomorrow, at this time, we will talk again, and I promise you my full attention and regard."

"Yes, Guild-Senior."

"You are presently hosting Bale in your suite, are you not?"

"Yes, Guild-Senior."

"Well, do not return to it. Take, ah, Addrissant's suite; that is, the suite that was his. Do not leave it until your return to my study, tomorrow," Dellios said.

"Should I draw the curtains, Guild-Senior?" asked Nickolai with a certain studied innocence.

"I see no reason for you to do so; I do not propose to let Bale out into the gardens," Dellios said thoughtfully. "If it become necessary, however, I will have you advised. Is there any other impertinence you wish to offer me under the guise of a request of clarification?"

"No, Guild-Senior."

"Thank you, Nickolai. You are dismissed, and may leave." Dellios watched Nickolai turn and walk out of the study.

"That went better than expected," Dellios said, quietly. "Socks, shall we go visit Bale?"

"I ... Master?"

"You haven't seen him for a while."

"No, Master," and that perfectly fine with Socks. Of the three ferals, Bale had been the most violent, and although Dellios had never permitted Bale to hurt him, Dellios had stopped him several times. Socks might feel a little sorry for him, but ... he didn't feel any overwhelming need for a visit.

"Shall we go see him?"

Socks looked up at Dellios. "If it please you, Master."

"You have no desire to see him?"

Socks shook his head no, before remembering himself. "No, Master."

"I do have to look in on him, Socks, and I would like you to come," Dellios said. "In fact, I think it would be helpful."

From Nickolai's description, it didn't sound the man had improved in the slightest and Socks didn't see how he could help, but ... "If you say so, Master."

"I do."

* * *

Socks hadn't been in Nickolai's suite before, but it wasn't much different from Addrissant's, or Mathom's, or even Dellios', although Dellios' was both larger, and closer to the center of the house. Four rooms, including a bathing-chamber, a sitting-room and small study that opened directly onto the garden, and a bed-chamber, furnished in rich, dusty plum colors and pale honey, nearly white, wooden furniture. Socks noticed with a grimace that the rooms were a little musty; Nickolai must not have trusted others around Bale, and Bale clearly wasn't doing any cleaning.

Other than a slight flare of his nostrils, though, Dellios didn't seem to notice, walking over to where Bale was restrained in the sitting-room, and, almost idly, checking the bonds and Bale. A red-and-blue pitcher had been overturned on a low table next to Bale, and held a pool of water which was dripping into a wet area on the carpet.

"Socks," Dellios said carefully, "clean that up. And ... see what would make these rooms more pleasant."

"Yes, Master," said Socks, who hurried to get the water up before it stained the table or damaged the carpet. Or at least, stained or damaged it more. While he did that, Socks was making a mental list of what else he could do. Opening the windows would be a good start, he decided, as he mopped up the standing water and sponged what he could from the carpet. And it would help the carpet dry ...

"And replace the pitcher of water," Dellios said, "although, perhaps, not quite as full. With, I think, a towel underneath it."

"Yes, Master, certainly ... I'll be back in a moment with some clean towels and fresh linens," Socks said, as a way of obliquely letting his Master know that the suites had no fresh dressings and that he'd have to fetch them.

"Good. Fetch the papers from my desk, as well - the ones with the white-and-blue ribbons," Dellios said.

"Yes, Master. I was going to open the windows ... before I went ..."

"I'll do that," said Dellios, much to Sock's surprise. "Go."

"Yes, Master," said Socks.

By the time Socks had gotten back, Dellios was just finishing locking the heavy chain around Bale's collar back on the post. "Put them on the side-table, Socks," Dellios said. While Socks busied himself putting the rooms back to order. Socks couldn't but help glance, from time to time, at Bale, and the pitcher of water next to him. Bale hadn't touched it.

And Master Dellios hadn't said a word about it, either, simply picking up a new set of papers once he'd finished reading the ones he had.

Eventually, of course, Socks had done everything he could, short of heavy cleaning - although he thought the suite could use it. But he couldn't haul the carpet and upholstery outside to beat them, or mop the sitting-room floor, or ... he thought about it, and simply went back over, and kneeled down at Dellios' side.

The emerald minotaur looked up at that, and then around the room. "Much nicer, Socks." Dellios then turned to look at Bale, and then down at the untouched water pitcher, and returned to his reading, although the minotaur ran one hand through Sock's hair in a casual manner, until, after some few minutes, Socks finally felt himself relax.

It was only then Dellios spoke, looking up from the papers. "Do you want to die?"

Socks started to turn to stare at his Master, but held his place.

Bale said nothing.

"Because, in the long run, I can't stop you, if that's truly your will," the minotaur continued. "And what you're doing now - dehydrating yourself - will be fatal in another day or so, although it will take you another three or four days to die."

There was no reaction from Bale, and, a minute later, Dellios switched to Latin, and repeated what he'd said.

Bale looked at the minotaur distrustfully. "I'm supposed to believe you?" he answered, also in Latin.

Dellios gave a snort. "I would hope so. Have I ever said anything untrue to you? Tried to deceive you? All I want - wanted - was to help you adjust to life here." Dellios lifted a hand to forestall Bale's reply. "Perhaps I did that poorly."

That got an answering snort from Bale.

"But usually, our methods work. Wheat and Straw are in the hands of their new owners, and ..." Dellios paused for a moment. "They are happy. Two out of three ... I would really have liked to help all three of you."

"You just want to trade and sell us," Bale said, his voice hoarse.

Dellios looked over at the pitcher of water, and Bale followed his gaze - and then looked away, flushing with embarrassment.

"I am going to take Socks outside for ... a minute. Or two. We will be back briefly," said Dellios, rising. "Socks, come."

Socks didn't see the point, but he followed anyway. As soon as Dellios was outside, he closed the door, waited for a moment. "Socks, if I'm right, you'll need to refill the water pitcher when we go back in. Unobtrusively. I'll pretend not to notice, and Bale will pretend not to notice. I think."

"Yes, Master." Socks wanted to ask, what if the pitcher still has water, but he knew the answer - there would be no need to refill it. Which was true, but ... it wasn't the answer he wanted. Not, of course, that Socks had any right to expect that answer.

But when they'd gotten back into the room, Master Dellios had been right; the pitcher was empty.

"I don't want to kill you," Dellios said, continuing to speak Latin, as he seated himself and Socks quietly walked around behind Bale to refill the pitcher with water. "But I won't let you suffer a long and painful death as your body fails, either. Since ... I don't want to kill you, and I don't think you want to die, what should I do?"

Bale just glared at Dellios, who waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Until Bale finally asked, "What do you mean?"

"If you are going to live - which I want, and you want - what should I do? Humans in our lands are slaves; there are no free humans. Even if I wanted to, there is no way I could return you to human lands - all of those borders are guarded, and you would never be permitted to pass." Dellios paused. "With most humans - most, not all - it is enough to show them that they can be happy in this new life, and let them find their own way.

"But you have not found your way," Dellios sighed. "Nickolai has failed you."

A mutinous look passed over Bale's face. "What?"

"Nickolai has failed you," Dellios repeated. "It was his task to aid you ... and I find you here, not on a path to adjustment and contentment, but to death. That ... perhaps I was wrong to entrust you to him."

"Where is he?" asked Bale, after a moment.

Dellios tilted his head. "Does it matter?"

Bale stared at Dellios for a moment, and then whispered, "Yes."

"He failed you," Dellios repeated. "Let us not discuss him. Instead ..."

"I want to see him," Bale said, his voice overriding Dellios', and Socks braced himself for criticism that never came. Instead, Dellios sat back in his chair. "I can arrange that. How will that help you?"

Bale looked away. "It will."

"Nickolai came to me, upset and frantic, that you were refusing food and water. That he let matters between you become so bad ..." Dellios paused, taking a deep breath.

Bale interrupted again. "It was my fault. What... what will happen to him?"

"Now that he's failed his first human trainee?" Dellios shook his head. "That would be for the Seniors of our Guild to determine."

"He didn't fail!" Bale said. "He ..." the human broke off after a moment.

Dellios let the silence stretch out, until Bale was moved to break it. "Please, I would like to see him."

"Bale," said Dellios, "I would like to help you. But you must let me. Trust me."

"I ... Nickolai said that to me."

"Yes," Dellios said. "And he meant it, just as I mean it. If Nickolai were here, and made that offer - what would you say?"

Bale was quiet, very quiet, for a long time, and Socks wondered if he'd respond. "I ... don't know."

"Sometimes, Bale, it's possible to fight so hard, and so long, that one forgets how to do anything else. One forgets that there is anything else."

Bale didn't say anything.

"Would you give me twenty-four hours? Simply obey me, for one day? And when that day is up, you could go back to your ... obstreperous self, if you so wanted."

After a short period of time, Bale just shook his head, no.

"I see," sighed Dellios. "What about Nickolai? Because ... if you can say yes just to that, for him, I will bring him here and give him that twenty-four hours, to see if he can redeem his failures."

"You ... you could?" Bale looked at Dellios distrustfully. "But would you?"

Dellios nodded quietly. "I would. I will. May - may I do that?"

Whatever Bale said was so quiet that Socks couldn't make it out, and apparently, even Dellios had trouble.

"I could not hear that clearly."

"Yes!" said Bale, turning his head away. "I would say yes."

A moment later, Bale's head was in Dellios' hand, and the minotaur was kneeling before Bale, looking up at him. "That was very hard for you. I am ... I knew, within minutes of meeting you, that your strength and determination were exceptional, and your potential tremendous. Thank you for that."

Bale said nothing, except, "Him. Not you."

Dellios stood, and nodded. "Yes. Nickolai, not me."

The minotaur turned, and gestured for Socks to come with him.

"That doesn't make you mad?" Bale said, sounding surprised.

"Make me ..." Dellios said, facing the door. "Bale, you have every right to see me as an enemy - but I am not your enemy." The minotaur turned to face Bale. "I give you my word, that Wheat and Straw are well. That Wheat is happy. That Straw is ... content, and will be happy. And that I want your happiness, too. Maybe I have made too many missteps with you for you to let me help you.

"And if so, then I am glad you will let Nickolai help you. It doesn't matter ..." and Dellios paused, sighed. "No. That's not true; I will not soil myself with such a deception. I am not so selfless as that. It does matter to me. But I do not want either you or Nickolai to suffer for my errors."

"One day," said Bale, with a strange intensity that Socks could not read. "Just one day."

"Just one day," acknowledged Dellios, leaving the room.

Dellios said nothing on the way back to his study, where he put down his papers. He started to leave, and then changed his mind, going back to his desk, and pulling out a decanter. He poured himself a drink, and then stared at Socks for a moment. He pulled out a second, smaller, carved stone cup, and poured some into that, as well. "I don't know if you'll have a taste for this, Socks. Perhaps you'll like it; it's a centennial brandy."

Socks tasted it carefully - he'd had the stronger brandies before, and the only thing he had tasted was the overwhelming burn of the spirits. This wasn't that different; the tang was mellower, but he still simply shook his head, and returned the cup.

"No? Don't fret over it, Socks," Dellios said with a smile, and downed the remainder himself. "I ... am just ... elated." He smiled again. "Shall we go tell Nickolai the news, or let him stew?"

Socks blinked. "Master?" he asked.

"I'm jesting," said Dellios. "Of course we let him stew. Both of them ..." he paused, sighed. "Run back to Bale, Socks, and make sure he's loose enough in those restraints. Get him more water. Some bread, nothing fancy if he's been fasting, maybe some melon. Tell him Nickolai has been delayed. Don't spend long with him, no longer than you must to deliver refreshment and message. If he has questions, apologize that you don't know the answer. Can you do that?"

"Of course, Master!"

"Hold," said Dellios. "Ah. Since you'll need to stop by the kitchen anyway, have Cook make up a plate for an afternoon snack, and bring that back with you, would you? Fruit and pastry, whatever Cook has. Something nice. A pot of tea would not be amiss." He looked out at the garden. "Another hour or three should indeed have a salutary effect all round."

"Yes, Master," said Socks, and he went off on his errand.

When he got back, Dellios hadn't moved from his chair, but his glass was empty. He carried a large silver tray with a plate of tiny sandwiches, a covered dessert tray, and a small vase with a rosebud. Socks put the tray down beside Dellios, and at a gesture, knelt onto the small cushion beside Dellios and settled down to wait when he heard Dellios take a bite from one of the little sandwiches, and Socks smiled to himself at Dellios' murmur of pleasure.

He couldn't help but look up when Dellios' hand tapped the other half of the sandwich - a rather substantial bite. Socks opened his mouth, only to find his mouth full of mustardy egg-salad between two thinly sliced pieces of onion-rosemary bread that had been drizzled with olive oil. Delicious. He swallowed. More or less just in time for another half-sandwich, the same thin-cut bread, but the filling was a mild fish paste layered on basil leaves. Dellios gave Socks a long sip of fragrant tea from his cup, before leisurely choosing another sandwich. This one was a deep rich brown, rye-barley bread with ... what? Socks found himself almost eager to find out, and he wasn't disappointed. It held a rich crumbly herb-cheese paste, a combination of flavors that melted into the rich underlying warm rye. More hot tea followed that.

The rest of the afternoon vanished between sandwiches that Dellios shared with Socks, and the pot of tea. There were even a few creamy sweetmeats - a sweet shell of white chocolate filled with an intense, sweet interior - a luscious apricot cream, a deep blackberry cream, and a light green jelly that Socks wasn't quite sure of - although he was only too happy to lick the goo off Dellios' fingers, and giggled when Dellios used rose petals to wipe small streaks of the chocolate off his face.

Socks was completely surprised when Dellios rose - motioning Socks to stay - and vanished into the bathing-chamber only to return a minute or two later with a couple of hot towels. Socks was surprised again when, instead of giving him one of the towels, the minotaur carefully cleaned Socks off himself.

Now, thought Socks. Before ... "Master?"

"Mmm?" said Dellios absently.

"Master ... you said once ... that I would ... that you would not be my ... that you were going to give me to another. That I would have another Master." That hadn't come out like he'd intended it.

"That is so," said Dellios gravely. "Tempting as it is to retain you," he added, with a smile.

"It's just that ... well, I ... I have to ... to ..." Socks felt words deserting him, but Master Dellios, for whatever reason, simply waited for him. "I have to serve ... him. Like I serve you. Isn't ... isn't that right?"

The green minotaur nodded. "Yes ... given that he will not be me. But he will, I assure you, treasure you at least as much as I do." Dellios tapped a hand against the side-table. "More, I think."

"Then ... then ... if ... Master, I want to serve him; make him ... as happy as you are."

"You will," Dellios said. "Do not worry about that."

"I'm not worried ..." said Socks. "I ... I ... want to ... if ... it's not wrong ... offer ..." Socks stuttered to a halt again, and wished he hadn't started. But he had, so ... he had to finish. And he ... he did want to make his Master proud. Master Dellios and ... and ... whoever Master Dellios gave him too.

Dellios waited, patiently.

"You said that ... the ... the chastity tube could ... would be ... a ... could be a gift. Master," said Socks, who was starting to shake with his own forwardness. "I ..." He hoped Master would say something, understand what he meant, let him stop talking. Please.

But all Dellios said was, "Go on," very softly.

"I want to offer you and ... and my next Master, that," Socks said, swallowing. "Please. If ... if I may."

"You are offering to wear a chastity tube, and so give all control of your pleasure to your Master?" asked Dellios.

Socks nodded.

"I am ... surprised," Dellios said, after a moment. "I am ..." he paused again. "I am surprised," he said again. "Socks, you have explained partly why, but ... would you explain a little more for me, please?"

Socks stiffened, and looked up at Dellios with something like fear. Never, never, never had a minotaur ever said please to him. "Did I do something ... wrong? Master?"

"No!" said Dellios emphatically. "Not at all! I ... Socks, you do not have to explain further, if you do not wish. I ... ask. I ask, because you are offering me a gift. I cannot ... if I command, then it is no longer a gift, and I will not demean your offer so."

"Oh," said Socks. "I've ... I've thought about it, Master, and ... and, I'm ... it's something that ... I ... want to show I trust you, Master. And ... I want to ... I will, Master, trust whoever you give me to. Becuase ..." he stopped. "I ... I thought you'd like it. Master."

"Like it!" said Dellios, kneeling down to look at the human. "Socks ... I am overwhelmed with your offer; it is more than I ever would expect. You have offered me something precious and wonderful and ... as I said, it is something I never, never would have asked for or expected. I will accept it, and, I assure you, treat it - and you - as the treasure you are." The minotaur smiled. "Perhaps ..." and then he stopped. "Socks ... you understand what you are surrendering to me? You understand that I, and only I, will decide when and how you find release?"

Socks took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes, Master. I ... want to offer you that."

A moment later, Socks found himself locked in Dellios' arms. "I accept, Socks," and the minotaur kissed him; Dellios' tongue licking across the smaller human's lips like a promise, and then slipping in. The minotaur's hand grasped his trousers, and pulled them down firmly. "Mine," Dellios whispered, stroking him. "This is mine, now, Socks."

Socks had thought it would be difficult. He'd been dreading this moment, even as he'd been thinking about it. He'd been so scared ... he'd been so worried ... and ... it had turned out to be so easy. All the concern, all the fear, all the worry, all the tension ... just faded away. Master had him, now. Master Dellios would take care of him. He knew it as a truth, so deeply that ... he was where his Master wanted him. If his Master chose to touch him - as Dellios was - then that was his Master's privilege. All Socks had to do was let him.

And ... his Master's touch felt so good. Wonderful. It wasn't confined to his shaft; Dellios' strong, gentle touch stroked his groin, his legs, up to his back, across his ass. Socks just sighed, and melted into Dellios' embrace. "What a lovely man you are, Socks ..." Dellios said. "Have I mentioned I think you're perfect?"

Perfect? Master Dellios thought he, Socks, was perfect? The hand around his shaft tightened, and Socks felt himself harden. It felt so good ... and then Dellios' hand tightened further. "Not yet," he whispered. "Not now, Socks."

Socks had expected to feel disappointment; Dellios' hand felt so good; he wanted ... he wanted to feel the euphoria that always swept him when he came, but ... all he felt was anticipation. He'd come when Dellios was ready to let him and ...

Socks just took a deep breath, and nodded. "Yes, Master. But ..."

"Yes?"

"Are ... are you going to ... to pierce me, there? I'm ..."

"Perhaps," said Dellios. "But not now."

And now, when he thought about it, even that didn't upset Socks. It was his Master's decision, his Master's choice, and ... whatever his Master wanted was right. It might change, but for now, Socks couldn't be happier.

* * *

The rooms that had been Addrissant's, like most of the suites in the house, opened onto the elaborate gardens. When Addrissant had been working with Wheat, and when Socks had been there, the curtains were never closed, and the windows were usually open to the patio and the flowering hedges outside. But Wheat was gone, and Addrissant had returned to Labyrinth nearly two weeks ago. The rooms had been cleaned, thoroughly, and then closed - dustcloths placed over the furniture, the windows securely fastened, the curtains drawn, even the rugs on the colorfully tiled floor rolled up and tied after they'd been cleaned.

It didn't look to Socks like anyone was there when Dellios opened the door and entered; it was quiet, still, and dark. Socks looked around for any sign of Nickolai, but ...

"Nickolai?" asked Dellios.

"Senior?" came a reply from the far side of the bed. "I don't think I'm due in your study for quite some time."

"No," said Dellios, and pointed to what Socks knew was an armchair. Socks pulled the dustcloth off, and the green minotaur settled himself down into the chair - and then, rather to Socks' surprise - pulled the smaller human onto his lap. "Is there some reason you're in here, in the dark?"

"These are the rooms you asked me to stay in, are they not?"

"I was rather asking why you have denied yourself the room's amenities - windows, chairs, apparently even the bed."

"I didn't need them, or want them. It seemed like a waste of your slaves' time to close the room up again."

"Sitting alone in the gloom ... is what you wanted?"

"No," Nickolai said. "What I want is Bale."

"Ah."

"Desperately, Senior."

"I thought that might be the case," admitted Dellios.

"I didn't think so. But I was, as you pointed out, deceived. I have been considering just how ... deceived I have been, and, Senior, I'm afraid the answer is quite a bit."

"And this astonishes you?"

"It does," Nickolai said.

"Even though you were told it would happen, the effects explained to you at length, and even the consequences defined?"

"Yes, Senior. I remain ... astonished, as you would have it. And embarrassed. And while I am thinking it about it, I beg your forgiveness for my petulance earlier, and for my continued petulant failure to apologize for it when you so rightly pointed it out to me. I am truly ashamed to have acted so, and ... I still do not understand why I did."

"I will admit I was a little taken aback by it," Dellios admitted. "But learning how to deal with one's emotions when one is so strongly bound is part of the lesson, here. I forgive you."

"Thank you, Senior. Now ... I have to forgive myself."

"Ah," said Dellios.

"I have failed myself, you, and Bale. And, Senior, that I have failed Bale is - crushing."

"The first time you sparred with your first armsmaster, how long did it take him to knock the sword from your grasp?"

"I trained with a maul, Senior, but ... a few seconds."

"And did you then feel you'd failed yourself, your instructor, and the maul?"

"No, but ... I do not see it as comparable."

"Oh? You imagine, then, that you need no experience nor practice to perfect your skills at handling humans?"

Nickolai was silent for a long, long time, until Dellios said, "Nickolai, what are you thinking?"

"I am thinking that you are right, and trying to believe it as well. It does not feel right to me."

"But it is right?"

"I ... I think so," Nickolai admitted.

"Do you imagine that I remained perfectly objective when training my first human?"

"I did think that," Nickolai said. "You are fearsomely competent, Senior."

"Thank you, I think," Dellios said, sounding amused. "To continue in this metaphor, do you imagine that, had you - somehow - smashed the maul from your armsmaster's grip, you would have learned something?"

"That is ... a very interesting thought," Nickolai said. "No. I would have learned nothing. You're saying, then, that what I perceive as failure is simply a lesson."

"Yes," Dellios said.

"You are right, however I feel about it."

"Yes," agreed Dellios. "But you don't ... feel that way."

"No, Senior, I don't, but ..." a soft sigh came from behind the bed. "This is a difficult lesson, isn't it."

"Very," agreed Dellios, softly stroking Socks' hair. "I don't know if this helps, but ... you're taking it well."

"It may, someday. I assume you're taking Bale back, then?"

"No," said Dellios.

Suddenly, Nickolai was standing upright behind the bed. "What ... you cannot ... to whom will you give him? You haven't ... given up on him? Have you? Senior?"

"I have not given up on him - or you. I am not dissatisfied with your progress, Nickolai. I told you Bale would be incredibly difficult, and you have done - all things considered - extremely well."

"He's chosen to die rather than submit to me," Nickolai said bitterly. "By what stretch of the imagination is that extremely well?"

"Sometimes choices aren't what we think they are," Dellios said. "I talked with him, and ... discussed that choice. He's agreed to submit to you for one day. Just one day, no more."

Nickolai's face twisted into a confused expression. "Just like that?"

"If you're affected by him, Nickolai, then he's affected by you," Dellios explained. "He misses you."

"That seems ... unlikely," said Nickolai. "No, in fact, it seems impossible. Are you certain."

Dellios nodded. "I do have a few advantages in this, Nickolai. He was ... very much feeling your absence. You haven't left him alone for ... a long time."

"No," said Nickolai.

"Well, he hadn't had the chance to miss you. You'd both reached a point where all there was between you was the struggle."

The blue minotaur nodded. "Yes."

"He didn't know how to stop."

"But didn't he struggle against you when you showed up?"

"I'm sure he would have, if I'd given him the opportunity," Dellios said. "I did not. As I said, I do have some advantages, and one of them is knowing how he'd probably react. I hinted that you had failed him - and that thought, that you'd failed, upset him."

Nickolai nodded. "But how did you get him to submit, even for just a day?"

"Ah," said Dellios. "I gave him to understand that you had failed, and would return to the guild as a failure."

"But he wouldn't know what that meant!"

"No, but then, he didn't really need to, did he? It was enough that he was responsible for your failure. And then I gave him - obliquely - the chance to redeem your failure. To submit for a day, not to me, but to you."

"That's ... good and wise of you, Guild-Senior," Nickolai said, bowing his head. "I am instructed."

"You are," said Dellios. "Do you know what to do?"

"Yes, Guild-Senior. I assume that Bale is physically secure?"

"He is drinking again. I have not offered him food; he will be hungry when you reach him. But he has water."

"How ... secure is he?"

"Given the problems we've had, he's restrained. He cannot hurt himself or the slave who is watching him."

Nickolai nodded choppily. "Then ... I have one day."

"What will you do?"

"I ..." Nickolai paused. "I want to go see him now. But I should make plans, shouldn't I? Start at dawn."

Dellios nodded. "You may observe him before that, if you feel you must, but do not show yourself."

"Yes, Guild-Senior. Would you care to offer any advice?"

Dellios thought about it for a moment. "Show him he has nothing to fear."

Nickolai nodded. "Thank you, Guild-Senior."

* * *

That night, Master Dellios pulled Socks into bed with him. "I told you not to touch yourself ... how did you do?"

Socks swallowed. "I tried not to, Master, but ... I did. Just as I was, was, ... relieving myself. It was an accident, I didn't mean to ..."

"Good enough for now," Dellios reassured him, and gave him a quick, chaste kiss.

Which quickly turned into something more as Dellios lifted Socks up against him. Despite - or maybe because of - his caution, he was hard, very hard, as his Master took him.

It always felt good, being taken that way - pressed, held against Master Dellios, feeling the heat of his body soaking into Socks' smaller frame, but this time ... holding his hands away, not touching himself as he ached for release and the need just built and built even after Master Dellios tensed with his own climax -

Straw had been right. It was awful.

But it was wonderful. Long after Master Dellios' breathing had slowed to sleep, Socks was still feeling ... what? Pleasure? Need? The warmth of his Master, the scent of sex and pine and that odd but wonderful musk that was minotaur ... had him in almost a daze. He needed ...

Socks pulled his hand up sharply. Master had not given him permission for that. He wanted it - oh, he wanted it - but Master Dellios had said no. He breathed that word to himself. No. Took a deep breath. No.

That no was so hard ... he was so hard ... Socks twisted a bit, in Dellios' grip. Tried to ignore it. Tried to think about something else ... but he couldn't, not so close to Master Dellios, not when his lungs were filled with Master's scent, his skin tingling from the soft tickle of the fine pelt, his ears ringing with the soft breathing of his Master ...

Socks turned over, his hardness pressed tight between himself and the bed. He pulled his hands up again, and gritted his teeth. The wonderful was receding, faster and faster, just leaving the awful behind.

Socks turned over again, trying to find some position that was ... more comfortable. Except ... there wasn't really; he wasn't in discomfort because of his position. He was in discomfort because ... Socks groaned, very, very quietly. If his Master were awake he might say something, but his Master was asleep ... and that suggested that, if he ...

No, no, no. Socks had offered his chastity to Master Dellios. He shivered, and forced himself to lie still. This was ... during the day, he had his duties. But now, at night, he was tired, he wanted to sleep, but ... he couldn't. He just couldn't.

Socks tried, anyway. Eventually, he managed to. The next morning, he thought perhaps he could divert himself by listening to what Nickolai said about Bale - but the expected visit never came.

He got some relief - if he could call it that - when, late the next day, Master Dellios put a leather restraint on him. It wasn't the unyielding metal tubes, but a leather one, instead, and it buckled into place around his waist and legs - it wasn't locked, Socks could have taken it off, and even put it back on if he'd wanted to, but ... it was a restraint. Socks wasn't sure if he was happy or not at that; so far, he'd managed to obey Master Dellios.

Hard as that was.

The leather thing did make it easier. Relieving himself was a little tricky, but ... not too tricky. And before bed, Master Dellios took it off, made sure Socks was clean and that it wasn't chafing him and that he was fine - before putting it back on, and taking him - not quite as roughly as last night, but it left Socks with no doubts about whom he belonged to.

The leather tube wasn't as harsh as metal might have been, but it wasn't stretchy either, and Socks could feel it clamping down on his length while Master Dellios took him - and for quite some time afterwards, as well. But ... it did seem easier to get to sleep that night.

* * *

Nickolai came in to visit Dellios late the next day, but Socks didn't have the opportunity to listen to them. They were both looking pleased, however, so Socks hoped that maybe Bale had been reasonable. Probably not, Socks thought, but maybe!

* * *

He held out for nearly five days, but when Dellios cuddled him close on the fifth night, he whispered, "Master?"

"Mmm?"

"You ... you said you'd help. If ... if I was finding this ..." Socks took a deep breath. "And ... Master, I'm ... please, Master. Help me?"

Dellios let out a deep, deep breath. "I've been waiting for you to ask, Socks," he said softly. "You've been so good ... I've been watching, you know."

He had? "I ... tried, but ..." Socks wished he could crawl into the feather mattress. "It's really been ... difficult, Master."

Dellios slipped the restraint off him, and gently stroked the human's length. "You've done so well," he said. "I knew you were strong, but I never expected you to make five days ... and to ask so properly, after that long ... I'm so pleased with you, Socks, I can't tell you ..."

Socks almost instantly hardened fully as the leather tube came off - finally. It felt so good after so long, and he gasped with pleasure. He was dripping almost immediately, and Dellios' hand spread the warm slickness across him as the minotaur pulled Socks up and onto his lap. It was so easy to curl into the minotaur's warm body, to feel the massive strength that held him so safely, and relax - or try to relax; the tension he'd been under was sending shivers of sensation across him that made him ...

He jerked as Dellios' hand left him, the absence of sensation almost a physical shock, and he made a sound - he wasn't certain if it was a whine, or a groan or what it was, but Dellios just chuckled. "Oh, you've earned your reward, Socks, don't fret ... just let me take care of you."

Just let me take care of you.

Somehow, just hearing that made Socks relax into Dellios' arms. Yes, Master. Socks wasn't even certain if he'd managed to say that out loud. The touch of Dellios' hands on this body, combined with his own denial and Master Dellios' knowledge of how to touch him drove him wild. Each time Socks started get close; Dellios would ... not stop, precisely, but move to another part of his body until he wasn't even certain how Dellios was touching him. Was that his tongue? Was ..

It was; Socks screamed out in pleasure as Dellios' tongue wrapped itself around Sock's length and he came in an explosion of stars that burned in his head and then everything went away for a moment ... not long, but just a moment. He was aware, somehow, in the back of his mind, that Master Dellios was washing him, and drying him, and even putting some kind of lotion on him before putting the restraint back on and pulling Socks back into his embrace.

* * *

Sock's life settled - not quite into a routine, but nearly. Master Dellios himself kept to a fairly straightforward routine of oversight, examination, counseling the overseers, even twice dealing with a slave himself (although naturally Master Dellios sent Socks back to his suite before doing that). Every other day, Master Dellios met Master Iudas for lunch. Every third day, they had a formal dinner - sometimes just Master Dellios and Master Iudas, and sometimes they invited others - Nickolai was always there when there were other guests, but otherwise, the cousins dined alone.

Socks ate on the floor, next to Master Dellios. He'd thought that Master Iudas might say something about not tripping, or warning one of the footmen to be extra careful with the soup - but he didn't. The minotaur's conversation was confined to the handling of the estate. New additions to the wine cellar. A more aggressive gardening schedule for the unexpectedly thriving flowerbeds around the house itself. Various deals that Iudas was involved with, or consulting on, and the occasional unusual event, such as an emissary from the Nippon Clans who'd stirred up gossip in Labyrinth when he docked, and departed - without, apparently, bothering to see Patriarch Nahor or bothering to tell anyone where he was going, although Master Iudas seemed to consider that the interesting part was that anyone was surprised at the Emissary's reticence.

* * *

It happened right after lunch. Socks was right there when it did. Master Dellios and Master Iudas had eaten lunch together the day before and Dellios was out in the field looking over some barracks when an overseer - Master Nils - came running up to him. "Del! We have ..." He looked around. "We have a ... situation. I've ... moved it to the threshing barn. But I need you - and maybe the Guildmaster, too." He considered for a moment. "Not maybe. Iudas needs to be there, too." He looked concerned. "Unless he's not here today?"

"He is," said Dellios, "but ... I generally manage the estate. Why would you need Iudas?"

"Sir - I think, Sir - Del -" and the brown minotaur's voice dropped to a quiet whisper that even Socks, who was standing right behind Master Dellios, could barely hear him. "Del, twelve minotaurs came to me, and asked for sanctuary."

"What!" said Dellios. "That's ... you took them to the threshing barn? All of them?"

"I did."

"Did you answer them?"

"I gave them mine, Dellios," Nils said, still in that quiet, quiet voice. "I know I don't speak for you or Iudas, but any bull may ..."

"No, that is right," Dellios said, interrupting. "I ... well. Fetch Iudas. Interrupt him, even if he's in the middle of a ritual." The green minotaur paused. "And ... hmmm. This is ..."

"Del, I was thinking that tonight we might have an outdoor dinner for everyone on the estate. On the back lawn. It's been a few months, and the weather is looking nice again."

"Yes," said Dellios. "An excellent idea. You'll need to move quickly to set it up, though. Do that after you fetch Iudas. They're alone in the barn? Did anyone else see them?"

"I ... don't believe so. They waited until I was alone to approach me."

"That will make everything easier," Dellios said. "Assuming ... no, go tell Iudas. Although I seem to think there's more?"

"There ... Del, you need to see for yourself. I didn't ask any questions - I didn't want any answers," Nils said. "Not until I'd brought this to you and Iudas."

"Thank you," said Dellios. "If for some reason we decline their request, I will make sure you are there first."

"Thank you," said Nils gravely. "Although I doubt if ... well. I will organize the dinner. Perhaps we'll roast a lamb?"

"Yes. Make it something big." As Nils hurried off, Dellios turned to Socks. "You heard that, I suppose."

"Was ... was I not supposed to, Master?"

"It ... it's fine, Socks. It's just that ... this is not something to be discussed until I tell you."

Socks nodded. "I understand, Master."

Dellios nodded, and they set off towards the threshing barn silently. Somehow, Iudas had gotten there first, and was at the side door to the barn, waiting. "I thought we'd go in together, Coz." His eye focused on Socks. "There is ... should Socks be here?"

"Yes. Don't you think so?"

Iudas shook his head. "I can't tell. Either way. But ... you can?"

"I ..." and Dellios paused. "I ... no. That's odd; I had the distinct feeling he should come when Nils was talking to us ... Iudas, I ... I don't feel anything."

Iudas looked around suddenly. "No," he said. "You're ... you're right. Nothing. How ..." He paused and took a deep breath. "No wonder I've been feeling so peaceful."

"It's ... rather eerie," Dellios said. "Shall we get this over with, then?"

Iudas nodded, and opened the door.

The threshing barn wasn't much of a building; it was simply four walls, a high ceiling, and the various doors leading in.

Inside were more minotaur; a deep blue one, a perfect white one, and a number of white-and black minotaur. And one more; rising from the bale of hay he'd been sitting on, was a bright crimson red minotaur, with dazzling white marks along his arms.

"You are the Lord of this House?"

"We - my cousin and I, Dellios and Iudas, we are," Iudas said.

"Then I beg you for sanctuary," the red-and-white minotaur said.

"Who - who are you," asked Dellios. "And ... from what do you seek shelter?"

"That is ... difficult," the red-and-white minotaur. "I think I am Dacien, of Clan Lycaili, but ... I'm no longer sure. And I am running from Scylla, and their mindbender."