Bringer of Winter- a M/M/M Epic Fantasy Romance

10- Moonlight Thread

GAMEKEEPER—

I moved to the side of the stage, the men in the crowd moving out of my way to let me through. A guard stood holding the chains of the Northmen, and both glared at me with a ridiculously similar stare as I rounded on them.

They know I am their master, I thought, but immediately wondered how much more the couple understood. Did they know what was going to happen, what had happened and— costing seventy-five hundred parats— how much they were now worth to me?

When I stepped up to them I looked them both up and down, wrinkling my nose at the stench that wafted off of them, and nodded. They were the perfect entertainment, especially now as people feared the Northmen as much as they had during the war with the island kingdom. If nothing else, their deaths would bring morale to the people, and the king paid well for high morale.

"What are their names?" I asked the guard who held their chains. The man looked at a loss, and finally coughed.

"No idea, sir. They don't talk except to each other, and most are too afraid to try at a conversation with 'em."

"What are your names?" I asked, turning to the big man. But after a moment, something told me to turn to the younger boy, something in the way they had interacted with each other, in the way the boy held himself and listened to the conversations rather than only watching the body language as the big man did. I thought the boy might understand Nelek, even if just a bit.

The boy met my eyes but didn't answer, his eyes discerning, as if deciphering the words. After a moment, he muttered, "Names..." in heavily accented Nelek.

"Yes. Name."

The boy nodded finally, understanding, and put his hand on his chest. "Name Khif," he said, and then he motioned at the big man, more than a full chest and head taller than the boy. "Name Ryker."

"Well, Ryker and Khif, let's go. You smell, and I'm starving."

The boy was at a loss but as the guard handed me the chains, comprehension dawned in his eyes. Along with relief.

He did not want to be split from his companion and had realized I had bought them together.

I motioned for the boy to follow, saying, "Come," simply, so he might understand. It seemed he did, for he nodded. But then he paused and pointed at my chest, cocking his head.

"Name," he said, his words haughty and almost demanding.

I raised my eyebrows, my eyes flickering to the guard whose mouth hung open at the boy's bravery— or stupidity— and then I yanked on the chains, bringing the boy up to my face. I grabbed at the boy's collar, holding it so tightly the boy began to gag. I could see the big man tense, but something held him back, something he was quick to remember and faster to adhere to.

"You will call me master," I hissed, staring into the boy's startled, fearful eyes. "And if you ever address me like that again, I'll have you horsewhipped. Understand this, Northman. If you really fight as well as Pabor claimed you do, you'll do well and survive. If not, your death will quadruple the money I paid for you. So either way, I win and you lose. Now, come."

The boy followed silently, flinching as the collar grated against the tender, marked red skin that I had opened up anew with my violent movements.

Walking through the streets with the slaves at my back, I felt the stares of the people around me like hot pokers. I knew it was only because of my presence and the power I held in Eleyan that kept them from open hostility, possibly even violence, against my new slaves. And from the way the Northmen looked at the crowds around them, they were used to this. There was nothing on their faces that showed shock, confusion, or even shame. The man watched the crowd as if searching for assassins, and the boy in curiosity, his head constantly tilted as if listening to words no one else heard.