The Unsuitable Slave. (NC-17) Part 32/34
If there was one City that Jared knew, it was Venne and something he knew better than Venne was the Summer Palace, with all its tradition and peculiarities. He was beginning to think that he pretty much knew Jensen too. So, there were two of them and hundreds of Morgan’s men but he still had the element of surprise. He watched Ben disappear through the ancient and tiny, ivy covered, gardeners’ gate. That discovery had been a secret of his and Meghan’s years before, when their childhood was carefree and unfettered by war. Apparently it was still their secret.
The next stop was the armory store which Jared had used in his previous lies. It stood vandalised and looted but he knew where the main safe was hidden and how to use the treasure within. Who would have thought to hide their secrets and their security from the Crown Prince? One patrol heard the thump and scrape of his endeavors and came to investigate. No soldier left the building. Jared was fairly sure the vault couldn’t be opened from within.
The crowd in the Square was surprisingly large for a devastated City. There was nothing like a public execution to bring out a mass, Jared thought wryly. He set up a brazier, lit a flame and spread chestnuts on the grill. Within moments, a busybody of a City Elder bore down on him and he was only satisfied when Jared offered him the stall, with all of it’s profits, in return for permission for Jared to set up another on the South of the Square.
The crowd was getting restive and a warm bulk bumped into Jared. The chestnuts in his hand rolled over the floor and he bent to retrieve them. “You bloody fool.” A familiar, deep voice growled at him and a hand reached out to gather the fruit for him, the cloak was pulled just enough for Jared to recognize the branded wrist.
Jared tossed the chestnuts over the grid and pulled at the man, “We should let someone else tend to those,” he said working through the crowd, with the Captain close behind.
“Tell me you didn’t come alone.”
“I didn’t come alone James.”
“Try to sound like you mean it.”
“One rookie,” Jared sighed. “How about you? How many?”
“Chad plus two. You got a plan, Child? ‘Cos I gotta say we’re strugglin’ here.”
Jared continued his relentless squeeze, through the expectant crowd, toward the North corner. “Tell me Jensen’s got the right footwear, James.”
The old warrior chuckled, “They all do, but it ain’t gonna unlock the cage and I ain’t gonna get close.”
“No mind. Jensen owes me a foot-rub. These boots are a damn squeeze on my toes. Keep away from the braziers, grab as many horses as you can and, see the covered street drain by the old brothel? The men should arm themselves with what is under. Apart from that, pray to the stars and moons and run like the wind.”
Several of the soldiers recognized Jared from his earlier chat.They relaxed when he approached and welcomed him back. He dug into his pockets and offered warm chestnuts. He told a bawdy joke and they laughed with him, their mouths spilling fragments of sweet goodness. He found some more of the treat and others gathered to take advantage of his generosity. He told another joke about condemned men and rope, one he had heard in the company of Morgan which made his toes curl and stomach twist. There was a burst of hilarity. Sick fucks.
He hardly dared to look to the barred area. He thought he could detect subtle hand movement, prisoners who picked at their boots or fiddled with their chains but it was probably because he knew what was there. Jared tried to locate Jensen but he was gone from Steve’s care. He didn't have time to think on it.
The lowering of the drawbridge over the moat that surrounded the inner fort of the Palace took everybody by surprise. Drum beats and bugle calls accompanied the clatter of hooves over cobbles, and riders in finery trailed the silk regalia of the House of Morgan. Jared had mixed feelings about that, on the one hand it was an arrogant announcement that Morgan had snatched leadership of the Realm, yet it also served the purpose of underlining that the true Monarchy, his family, was not complicit in the atrocities of this twisted show.
Jared wanted to withdraw his gaze from the pompous procession but something sought his attention and made him gasp. Morgan rode tall, protected on all sides by his guard and accompanied by his most trusted General, Samuel Campbell. Behind their horses he could make out prisoners. Misha, Victoria and Jensen were being dragged behind, on short chain. For a moment he couldn’t move nor even draw breath. Jensen was barely conscious, struggling to keep up, and when he dropped to his knees Morgan had his steed continue. He looked behind and continued dragging the Prince across sleet-cold stone. Jared could only imagine the horrific scour and scrape his Master would endure, and in that moment, the fond memories of his childhood father-figure were forever scrubbed from his mind. He saw his Uncle for the monster he was and there was no grey, just black and white and Jared wasn't his Uncle's creation, he refused to be that. There were pieces of him that would always be there but he would not allow it. He was Jensen's property and that made him safe. Jensen would not allow him to become that.
Jared’s fury was red-hot and vengeful. He would release these freedom-fighters but for him there would be no running. He was here to take Jensen back, but more than that, Morgan was going to meet his end and his end would be miserable, at the tip of Jared’s sword. There was no more time to consider it. Jared sidestepped two of the previously smiling soldiers as their eyes bulged and watered and they clutched at their throats. They found their swords and flailed at Jared but it was already too late for them, Jensen's obsession with plants and the notes he had meticulously kept had paid off. Apparently a little extract and a sharp needle went a long way. He wished that Jensen was with him to appreciate it, but his Master was almost at the stage, the procession had stopped and Jensen had managed to stand once more, but he was bent over, his arm clutched around his stomach and even from this distance Jared could discern the deep lines of pain on his face.
On the opposite side of the square his own childhood obsession with science was just about to pay dividend. A loud pop and an even louder BOOM preceded bright flashes of light, an explosion rent the air and the crowd screeched and screamed, fell and crushed. Liquid contained inside metal, heated and boiled in secret until the South brazier joined the show with a colorful, fountainous, eruption. White hot chunks of metal and liquid nut sprayed into the air and fell to scorch and scald the unsuspecting. With fear of more fire and black magic, the crowd dissolved into an undignified, panicking mass.
Jared had no time for sympathy or guilt, The crowd had all gathered to watch a sick entertainment and he had work to do. Within the cage, chains were being dropped and released. Steve stood and organized all the men and the pitiful few that remained of Jensen’s troop followed without question. The picks slid easy from the heel of Jared's borrowed boot and slipped into the lock without resistance but he could not move the catch. He swore and struggled with it, tried not to be distracted by the thundering sound of stampeding horses that emanated from the nearest barracks at the Palace gates. Lack of mounts would slow Morgan's call to defense and he allowed himself a smile, Ben had succeeded in his mission.
In the overwhelming noise and chaos that followed, Jared didn’t hear the warnings that the caged men shouted or notice the approach of three of Morgan’s men who surrounded him and drew steel. His own sword was smacked to the ground with sickening clang and another blade found his back and prodded. He drew breath, closed his eyes and waited for the searing slice into his heart, game-over. He opened one eye when the cut of the blade desisted and bodies fell to his side in synchronicity, with a thump and a squelch. Captain Beaver stamped his foot on a corpse to retrieve his blade. “Gimme those picks you idjit and get the other idjit out of here. Go get your boy.”
He grabbed at his ruby hilt in time to note the sword that was being withdrawn from the second body. Delicate hands protruded from a heavy cape to heave a similarly jeweled sword from the man’s torso. He swung around to look at the face under the dark hood, surely it was impossible, it couldn’t be.
Blood dripped from the twin of his ruby hilt blade. It was held in double handed grip and its owner panted as she gave a short laugh. “Don’t you ever again run off without saying goodbye or even hello, Jare, and don’t you ever die on us again, ever. I mean it. I will personally kill you for that.”
The lock of the cage snapped open behind them and Meghan grabbed Jared’s arm. “C’mon. Kane will have gone after Campbell and Morgan.”
***
The crowd was like quicksand. For every step forward they were jostled a little further back or to the side. It was a frantic squash that reeked the stench of sweat, fear and rage.
“What the Stars is Kane doing bringing you here?”
“Honestly Jare. Of course he didn’t. I didn’t tell him I was coming and didn’t let him catch up with me until we were within these walls. All this was for you, idiot! Mam should have smacked some sense into you when we were young.”
Horses whinnied, ran free, bucked and reared, creating waves of hectic movement. Jared had an ideal distraction but in doing so had possibly denied himself access to rescue the one that mattered most to him. As he struggled to make progress his stare barely left the wooden stage.
Morgan reached the dais. He watched the hubbub unfold around him and cut short his plans for an impressive demonstration of his authority. He had his prisoners hurried to the stage, and, when an executioner could not be found he chose a member of his entourage at random. Misha and Victoria huddled around Jensen, holding him up as he swayed on his feet and there was a tussle as the nominated soldier grasped Jensen and pulled him away from his friends toward a noose. Jared pushed harder with rising alarm. He heard an indistinct whoosh,and the next time he looked to the stage Jensen lay, in a heap on the wooden floor, under his executioner. Feather flights fluttered from the arrow in the soldier’s back and Jared caught his breath with relief. Another rush of displaced air had Campbell and Morgan ducking to one side and Morgan’s men rushing to evacuate him while others searched the battlements for the sly archer. Jared hoped that Chad had a solid escape plan.
Another noise could be heard, faint against the tumult and Jared stilled and cocked his head for the direction from which it came. It was an even beat, an organized roar and he knew what it meant. Meghan noticed it too and they looked at each other, two sets of bright, determined hazel eyes met and they nodded silent understanding. Reinforcements were rolling in for Morgan’s safety and neither were prepared to let him escape.
“I shouldn’t let you stay Meggie.” She was his baby sister, and it was his job to care for her.
“It’s not your choice, Jare. I’ve always decided for myself.”
“You’re too young and you’re all that’s left.”
“So, what Mama told me is true. You would rather throw your lot in with the Kingdom.”
“I’d rather do what is needed for the Realm, especially when it includes what I need. Who I need.”
“Are you saying you need Prince Jensen?”
“Get out of here, Meggie!”
“I’m not letting Morgan sneak away with Mam’s crown, I won’t have our people downtrodden and sold-out. Suck it up because I am still the Princess here and this isn’t about you or me, its about our citizens,” Meghan grinned and redoubled her efforts.
Jared grinned back. His sister was dishevelled and flushed with excitement. She was as she had always been, a miniature tornado, throwing herself at life and relishing danger. Until he met Jensen he used to think she was the only one like that. "Do you think we could try talking to the army, to the crowd? You are the Princess," Jared asked.
They continued to push and jolt through the sea of people, Meghan rolled her eyes at him and glanced about. "No, I think that is a really stupid idea. Uncle Jeffrey and I didn't part on the best of terms and I am certain that his men are not sympathetic to me. This lot," she indicated all around them, "don't seem the most sympathetic crowd either."
“Hey. Don’t get yourself killed because I’m not going to bandage you up this time, Sis.”
“He took Mam from us, our entire childhood, and then he took Jeff from me and now you. I owe him and it's not me who’s the wuss, Jare.”
“Suck it!”
Then they were there, climbing the wooden frame. Jared's eyes searched the stage, landed on Jensen, who was pinned to the floor, pushing a dead man from his legs while Misha and Victoria struggled to unlock their chains. Jensen caught Jared’s eye, his bloodied face split into a wide grin and his swollen eyes managed an approximation of a wink.
Jared heard Morgan’s voice among other shouts and warnings but he didn’t count the number that descended upon them. Kane burst onto the scene with a yell and a sharp rebuke for Meghan and her impetuousness. They circled back to back to protect the prisoners, and all the while they focused on Morgan. They saw the greed in his eyes when he recognized the faces and calculated the prize in front of him. There was arrogance in Morgan's decision to remain in the Square, hate in his announcement that he would watch them all die. General Campbell tugged a warning at his Commander but he wouldn’t be moved. The roar of panicked crowd and the orderly march of reinforcements faded to a buzz in Jared’s ears. His heart pumped hot lava through his veins, fueled by an uncontained fury, a lust for revenge and a burning love. He fought with the edge of the righteous and an instinct unmatched by any other. He didn’t count the fatal blows he dealt and he didn’t notice the flesh wounds he received. He was vital with grace and energy.
The slice of his cuts sprayed a fountain of blood from the soldier at his feet and he panted with exertion. Jared saw two men close-in on Meghan and gave a heads-up, but she was failing. She span and flipped, a last ditch manoevre that saw one of her adversaries impaled. In a moment Kane had cut-down the other. Jared came back to himself long enough to reassess the overall situation. Chad had arrived and stood in defense of Misha and Victoria who had worked themselves free and acquired weapons. They unlocked Jensen but all three were barely upright. None would survive a fight. He managed to catch Chad’s attention for a brief moment, “Chad, get them out, take Meghan and go. Now. Chad!”
Jensen shot him a dark glower as he clutched at his ribs and scraped out a refusal in his honey deep growl. “No! You send me away now and I swear I will take it out on your ass.” The relief at hearing him speak was palpable, whatever the injuries, Jensen, his Jensen, was still with him and still battling.
“Well you better get moving so you can keep that promise, Jen.” The tone was firm but he raised his eyebrows and smirked, all the while continuing with a deep cut to fell another assailant. Misha grabbed at Jensen’s arm and Jared was horrified to see that Jensen was unbalanced by such a simple touch, but he couldn’t afford to dwell on it.
“No.” Meghan was adamant.
“They did this to get you out, Meghan. Chris and Steve and Jensen, all of them, rebels and troops of both nations Don't let it be for nothing. Go!”
Christian didn’t let her argue, he manhandled her into their care and tasked Chad to keep her safe, whatever the means.
Jared turned his attention back to Morgan, he didn’t see Jensen stumble or hear the older man’s command for Chad to leave him behind, to ensure Meghan’s retreat, or witness his Master's insistence that if Chad did not leave he would turn his sword on himself so that there was no choice.
Somehow things slowed. The crowd needed to be quelled. There were reports filtering through the ranks that Morgan had broken into a power-hungry craze and threatened the Princess Meghan, herself. There was confirmation that one of the soldiers fighting valiantly at the centre of the melee was a Captain of the Queen’s own Guard, and a wild rumor spread that the Gods had sent Prince Jared’s ghost to avenge their Princess. A proportion of the army dropped swords, stood down and refused orders. There were murmurs and threats of mutiny and Officers made it a priority to lock the City down until they could reassess the situation. Jared wasn’t sure when the tide turned, but all at once they were not alone in fighting Morgan’s elite guard, ordinary soldiers stood at their shoulders with support and hastily shouted names and ranks.
Even fools have the instinct to save themselves and Morgan saw a chance of his defeat, a possibility that a weapon could reach to injure him. He took protection of three, then swung his horse and made to leave the rest of his men to fight for him. Jared didn’t miss the move, he reacted quickly to snatch at one of the horses that stood by the bloody remains of its rider. Christian moved with him and they were side by side, riding, like they had never been apart, cutting a swathe through the rioting and out the other side.
Jared spat blood from his mouth and crimson drenched his ripped shirt. His collar shone clear about his neck and he hadn’t a care to cover it. Adrenalin coursed through him and he was close, so close. He saw the froth on Morgan’s horse, felt the steam rise from its flanks, heard its snort, smelt leather, sweat and fear. He sensed the loss of Kane when the thunder of the horses faded to two beats and then, there they were, just Lord Morgan and Prince Jared, traitor and betrayed racing toward a deadly finish.
The drawbridge to the Castle stretched between Morgan and the safety of the main fort and his General made ready to raise the defense. They were halfway across when Jared acted. The bridge swayed, timber juddered and echoed beneath their mounts and soldiers rallied at the portcullis. Jared launched himself at the despicable man, nothing left to lose, propelled himself with all his might and Morgan was not expecting it.
It was an anti-climax. The ease with which Jared had the older, heavier man dismounted and on the boards, under his boots, was laughable. He was breathing heavily, unsure of the truth, but Morgan grounded him in the moment with a struggle and a litany of filthy curses. Apparently Lord Morgan’s nephew was a deviant, a whore, a slut, a faggot, and a cock sucking mother-fucker but yeah, he was also the one who stood.
Jared's hand trembled on his hilt and he cocked his head to look, really look, at the terrified, ordinary, pathetic man who shook at the pressure of his blade and pissed his pants at his imminent death.
The drawbridge shook with steady rhythm as somebody approached from the fort. Jared didn’t deign to look up.
“Can’t do it, can you, you low piece of deviant property? So useless, so weak you’re not even a person. Branded and used for your hole, Jared. It's all you were ever worth.” Morgan ground his words and spat them.
“But he’ll be the one to end you. How much less does that make you?”
Jared flicked his head up in shock, the voice was ragged and weak, but there was no mistaking it’s source. Jensen’s retort ended in a cry of pain and a grunted effort to escape General Campbell’s clutches, but Jensen was being dragged and his legs would not sustain him.
Jared tensed his arm to slam the blade downward, to tear through flesh, muscle and sinew but the harsh, even voice of General Campbell checked him. “You’re a sensible lad Jared. Is that really you? Don’t feel the need to reply, peculiar, and all that, but time is short. I’m more interested in your priorities. See, whether you murder your Uncle or not, you’re not getting out of here alive unless I let you.”
“Do ungfff.” Campbell stuffed his fist in Jensen’s mouth too far for a bite to be effective, though it didn't stop the Prince from trying.
There was more bounce on the bridge as somebody caught up with Jared, to stand at his shoulder. “Do you think he cares about that?” Kane had left his enemies defeated, behind him. He stood ready behind Jared, answered for him.
“I asked Jared, not his valet.”
Kane made to launch himself at the General but Campbell held Jensen in front of him. Jared stopped his friend, while stamping hard on Morgan’s leg to secure him.
The General spoke slyly and full of disdain, “This piece of crap slave may not care about his own death but I don’t think it wants its precious spoilt-brat owner to be hurt. I think it is too warped to survive on its own.”
Jared pulled his gaze up to the masked sneer of Morgan’s right hand man. His heart crashed and sickness rose, he was caught in horrible understanding. Jensen shook his head, eyes as wide as the swell of his cheeks allowed, every twitch and movement willing Jared to drive the steel the few inches it would take.
Jared looked between them and Captain Kane added his opinion, “Kill him and be done, we take our chances and we are rid of two bastards.”
Morgan screamed and begged as Jared pushed deeper to make a sharp hole in flesh which bled a crimson trail. Jared stopped before tip touched muscle and looked to Samuel Campbell. “What is your proposal, General?”
Christian butted in, “You can’t be listening to this Jare, please. Jensen would own you, he is not worthy of you, he is wrong, a bugger and deviant and he makes you the same. He sends you to Hell. Kill them both and redeem yourself.”
Jared’s mouth became dry, his eyes swam with tears.
Campbell narrowed his eyes and thinned his lips, “I only ask the slave,” he spoke dismissively to Kane.
Jensen was studying Jared, as if he wanted to catalog every detail of him, devour it, commit it to memory and keep it forever. Jared knew the look because it was the one he thought he must be wearing at that moment. He licked his lips and found his voice, “I asked for your proposal, General Campbell.”
“I step back, we make an exchange. You walk away and nobody follows from this fort. I make no guarantees for your escape from this City. That lies with you. You found a way in.” The man shrugged.
“How do I trust a traitor?”
“I have honor.”
“The honor of thieves,” Jared mocked.
“Appropriate enough for a promise to a slave, and you have no alternative but to take it.”
“We’ll take our chances,” sneered Kane.
Campbell drew his arm back for the kill and Jensen locked his puffed eyes on Jared with calm acquiescence.
Jared wasted no time, “No! Wait! I accept your proposal. I’ve seen what my Uncle is. I’ve seen him cry and smelled him wet with fright. He’s nothing special, the very lowest. He betrayed his own brother’s children, his kin. He’s not worth any single life being lost, whatever their status or crime. I take Jensen because his worth is immeasurably more significant. The Kingdom will deal for him.The Queen will negotiate with him. The States will listen to him.” Jared's voice cracked and he smiled at his Master, “I love him.” He kicked into his Uncle’s belly. “For this traitor, for him there is no love, no respect, no use, nothing. He taught me about worth and now I use his definitions.” The scathing hate rolled off Jared and he dragged Morgan to his feet with vicious grasp.
“Good choice.” General Campbell straightened and relaxed his blade, “On the count of five then?
Jared nodded.
“One,” the General counted.
“Two.”
“Also,” Jared spoke directly into his Uncle’s ear. “I will not stop until I have hunted you down. You created me, this fighter, and I will take you apart, day by miserable day, piece by painful piece, with just enough left to give you back to our people. Then they will shred you until there is nothing left but blood and gore. That is my promise and my honor, Sir.”
“Four.”
“Jared, please don’t…”
“Sshh, Chris.”
“Five.”
The prisoners were released with forceful shoves and Morgan sped, sniveling and wretched over the boards toward his safety. Jensen stumbled slowly forwards and, as Morgan reached Campbell's side the General gave a dark scornful laugh and applied a second, heavy shunt to the Prince. Jared wasn’t fast enough to catch him, Jensen span to the side and lost his balance, momentum kept him airborne and he fell from the drawbridge. Jared thought he screamed, he may have done but he wasn’t sure. Nothing seemed real. The sickening sight of the slack body somersaulting into empty space had him frozen, terrified and lost.
A laugh traveled on the sleet-wet wind, “If you want what’s left of Prince Jensen you better hurry up and get wet.”
Jared wanted to chase after them, grind them into a million, tormented, pus-oozed pieces, but sense constrained him. He heard a deep splash below and the slap of fetid water against the bank. He pulled and tore at his clothes until he was stripped to his pants.
“Jared, you can’t go after him. He is dead already, make this choice. Come back with me. I can’t help you with him. I love you like my own but it is wrong. If you choose him, I won’t kill you, I won’t even turn you in but I cannot help you. It’s the law and the Scripture, Jared. Please.”
Jared closed his eyes and breathed in. “Get off the bridge before it closes Chris, get off and keep running. If you feel able, leave my clothes and weapons under the drain by the old brothel.”
He flexed his knees and raised his arms and then Jared was falling, hurtling into a void. There was the rush of iced air on his skin, the flow and tangle of his hair, the dank smell of rot and then the shocking punch of breaking water. He sank deep into the bitterly chilled moat and his lungs emptied and burned as he struck out for the surface. He felt all around for any sign that Jensen lived His hands cut through murky, thick water and he forced his eyes open to search for a shadow or shape.
Jared emerged at the surface, gasping for air before taking a deep breath and diving under once more. They were a team and he had made a promise that he would not give up on Jensen. He would find him or die trying.
Part Thirty Three
Masterpost
Back to Part Thirty One