RPS Fic: Spoil Of War [Adam/Tommy] 1/14

[toobusy2write]

[Master Post]

Part 1

They were losing. That realization struck Prince Thomas Ratliff like a physical blow as he surveyed the battlefield from atop Wild, his warhorse, sword drawn and ready to take down the next soldier that would undoubtedly engage him. He was a hard mark to resist, what with brandishing Tousma's royal crest on his shield.

It was something to boast about, taking a prince down, and he knew he seemed an easier target than most. The knights who challenged him were obviously deceived by his slight build, if their shocked faces when he eventually took them down were any indication. He was no easy foe. What he lacked in size and brawn, he made up for with speed and cunning. The proof of that lay at Wild's feet, in the form of half a dozen dead or dying men.

And yet, for all his success that day, for all the success of Tousma's army in one-on-one combat, they were still losing.

Thomas-Tommy, as he preferred to be called, not being one to stand on ceremony-pressed his lips together, eyes skimming the knights and foot soldiers who had set upon them not long after they'd arrived to lend aid to one of their charges, Lady Camila, whose manor, Reus, had been attacked by mercenaries. It was obvious now that it had been set up to lure the king and his army into an ambush, something that just wasn't done in the Realm of Ubertas. True, there were no rules against it, but just the same, kingdoms did not hire mercenaries with no visible coat of arms to attack manors in other kingdoms. And attacking kingdoms most assuredly did not lie in wait in wooded areas, ready to pounce when the army of the defending kingdom's back was turned. It was considered cowardly by most, although Tommy just considered it smart strategy. He might have even been impressed if it hadn't been his kingdom's army on the receiving end.

Horse hooves pounded the ground behind him, alerting Tommy to danger. He jerked on Wild's reins, turning the horse around, even as he lifted his sword to block any incoming attacks. Metal clashed against metal as he stopped an enemy sword from slicing into him. He had the usual chain link armor on, but even armor had its weak areas.

Attack thwarted, Tommy let go of Wild's reins, trusting his warhorse to follow his foot and knee signals as he lifted his shield and surged forward, swinging his sword at his attacker. It took several minutes, but eventually he bested his opponent, watching with little satisfaction as the knight dropped from his horse and moaned, blood seeping out from under his chain mail and bubbling up from his mouth.

Regardless of his skill as a knight and his successes on the battlefield since being knighted, Tommy did not enjoy killing. It wasn't something that came easily to him, and he knew once it was all over, the men he'd killed that day would haunt his dreams. They always did.

A sharp cry of disbelief drew Tommy's attention and he whipped around in time to see an enemy soldier pull his sword out of Tommy's father, the king of Tousma. Their eyes met and Tommy's heart stopped for an instant at the flash of pain and regret in his father's eyes. Then everything sped up again and his father was falling from his horse, falling to the ground, mouth opening and closing, and while Tommy couldn't hear it, he knew his father was gasping for air, gasping his last breaths. Tommy had watched the same thing happen more times than he could count at the end of his own sword.

Without thought to his safety, Tommy urged Wild into action, racing over to where his father lay. Breaking one of the most important rules of combat-never willingly climb off your mount in the middle of a battlefield filled with enemies on horseback-Tommy slid from Wild's back and dropped to his knees in the grass.

"Father," Tommy said, voice choked.

King Ratliff looked at Tommy through pain-filled eyes. "Tommy. I-I am sorry. I should have heeded Lord Immerman's warning and awaited reinforcements."

They had been on their way back to Lootus-Tousma's stronghold and the royal family's home-after visiting Solvo, a nearby kingdom, when a runner from Reus had intercepted them. He had told them of the attack on Reus and had requested assistance.

Lord Immerman-David to Tommy since they were children-had scouted ahead and come back insisting that while the mercenaries attacking Reus seemed small enough in number that they could easily defeat them, his gut was telling him there was more going on than met the eye. He'd all but begged Tommy's father to wait for reinforcements and let him take a scouting party back to more thoroughly investigate in the meantime.

Tommy's father hadn't wanted to wait, though. They were a day out from Lootus yet, and since Reus was only a manor, not a castle, its defenses would not hold for long. He had felt they had enough of an army to head the attacking mercenaries off, since they had taken a rather large contingent with them to Solvo to discuss a possible alliance.

Although Solvo was a friendly kingdom, there was another they would have to pass along the way that was not. The Kingdom of Vox was known for its ruthlessness and its bloodthirsty king. It was Vox's coat of arms that the knights and foot soldiers who had ambushed them brandished.

Tommy shook his head. "No, Father. We had to come to Lady Camila's defense. We were honor-bound, trap or not."

"Aye," his father said, reaching for his chest with a shaky hand. "Help me with this, son."

Tommy looked down at his father's hand, which was wrapped around the medallion hanging from his neck.

Moisture filled Tommy's eyes and he blinked it away, shaking his head slowly. "No, Father. I-I cannot. Let me get you to the woods, to cover. Someone can see to you. You'll be alright."

"I won't," his father said, breath hitching in pain. "I am dying, Tommy. You know this. It is your time now."

Again Tommy shook his head, but when his father lifted the medallion and tried to take it off himself, Tommy reached out and helped him. He held the heavy metal of the medallion in his hand, staring at it, dumbstruck. He had not expected to be crowned like this. He had thought he had years with his father yet; years as the heir apparent. He was not ready.

"Yes you are," his father said, indicating Tommy must have spoken the last part without realizing. "I have watched you these last few years with great pride. You are ready to lead our people. Believe in yourself, Thomas. It is your destiny."

Tommy stared at his father. His father only called him Thomas in times of anger or import.

Swallowing hard, Tommy said the words expected of him upon receiving the medallion of kingship. "I accept this as my due, and I shall shoulder the responsibility of caring for and protecting the people of Tousma, rich and poor alike."

His father smiled at him, a mix of love, pride and pain on his face. "Prince Thomas Joseph Ratliff, I hereby crown you King Thomas of Tousma. You are here forth honor bound to act in your people's best interest."

Tommy ducked his head and slipped the leather loop attached to the medallion over his helmet and around his neck, a weight much greater than that of the medallion settling on his slim shoulders. When Tommy lifted his head and looked at his father again, it was to find the light inside that made him who he was, gone.

Knowing now was not the time to mourn, Tommy choked back a sob and reached out with a shaking hand to close his father's eyes.

"Tommy! Look out!" Lord Pittman-Monte to Tommy since childhood-shouted, bringing Tommy instantly to his feet, sword in hand.

Tommy whipped around in time to see a knight on horseback bearing down on him. With a fury born of grief and loss, Tommy lashed out. Not even bothering with the knight, he instead thrust his sword into the horse. The horse reared, then collapsed to the ground, taking the knight with him. As the knight tried to scramble to his feet, Tommy attacked, running him through, too.

After that, the battle was a blur. Tommy fought everyone in his path, taking down knights and the lesser-trained foot soldiers in equal numbers. Rage and pain fueled him, drove him, as he shouted commands to his troops.

Fresh off his latest kill, Tommy looked up to see where Monte was and his heart stopped. A knight on foot was racing toward Monte from behind.

Tommy shouted, but Monte didn't hear him, didn't turn around. Tommy sprang into action, running for the enemy on foot. He intercepted him a second too late. The knight's sword sliced up under Monte's chain mail and pierced his side. Monte shouted in pain, even as Tommy tackled the enemy to the ground. It wasn't easy fighting someone in hand-to-hand combat while wearing chain mail and armor. As a result, all Tommy and the other man ended up doing to each other was rolling around in the grass, grappling for the upper hand.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw Monte drop from his horse, clutching his side with one hand and his sword with the other. Guessing at Monte's intent, Tommy allowed himself to be rolled on his back and pinned beneath the other knight. Suddenly, the knight froze above him, mouth opening on a soundless gasp an instant before he fell to the side, Monte's sword protruding from the back of his neck.

Monte yanked his sword free and fell to his knees on the grass, gasping. Tommy glanced at the fallen knight's sword and noted that only a small portion at the end had fresh blood on it, indicating Monte's wound might not be life threatening.

Air rushed from Tommy's lungs in relief. He could not bear losing two members of his family in one day. Looking around them and realizing they were close to the woods, he shouted for David, who had just killed a foot soldier nearby.

David hurried over and together they got Monte to the cover of the woods, dragging him through branches and underbrush until one of their men stepped into their path, silently gesturing for them to follow. They did and soon broke through to a clearing where various wounded were being tended to and loaded up on horseback when possible. Other more seriously wounded soldiers were being loaded onto carts pulled by horses.

Tommy and David lowered Monte to the ground and pulled Monte's helmet from his head. Monte's eyes immediately lit on the medallion around Tommy's neck.

"Your father is dead." It was not a question since Tommy would not have had the medallion otherwise.

Tommy's jaw clenched and he nodded anyway.

Monte reached up and touched the medallion. "I pledge my loyalty and service to you, My King."

The men around them that heard and those who were able, dropped to bended knee and echoed the oath.

Tommy pulled his helmet off and glanced at them as he said, "I accept and in return, pledge to protect the people and lands of Tousma."

The men went back to what they were doing and Tommy reached down, enclosing Monte's hand in his, squeezing tightly. Monte, while technically Tommy's uncle on his mother's side, was much more like an older brother. Only six years separated in age, Monte had come to live with Tommy and his parents when Monte was all of nine and Tommy was three, after Monte's parents-Tommy's grandparents-died of influenza.

There had even been talk of Tommy's father making Monte his heir to the throne when Tommy had gone through a rebellious period, refusing even the simplest of instructions. When Monte had heard of it, though, he'd gone to the king and refused, saying it was Tommy's birthright, not his, and to have faith in Tommy, that he'd outgrow his rebellion and would make a fine king in due time.

Tommy had been floored, and the bond the two shared had strengthened and grown into the kind of trust that was rare for a prince to find among his peers, what with the scheming and vying for power that was usual among the king's line. It had also served to bring Tommy to heel, wanting to be the man Monte thought him to be.

"Now that you're safe, I must get back to the battle. I shouldn't have left." Releasing Monte's hand, Tommy started to stand.

"Wait," Monte said, hand circling Tommy's wrist to stop him.

Tommy looked at the hand. Only Monte would dare something like that, especially now that Tommy was king. Meeting Monte's gaze, Tommy dropped back to one knee next to him and asked, "What is it?"

Monte nodded toward the medallion around Tommy's neck. "Allow me to pose as king."

Tommy tensed. "What?"

Monte met his gaze. "We're losing. You know this as well as I. They will make you a spoil of war. If we let them think I am king, I will be enslaved inside the castle where they can show me off to visitors. You can work from this end," Monte said. "Gather what troops escape and secure allies who would see Vox fall. You may even be able to persuade Solvo to join us. The talks of alliance went well when we were there, as you know."

"Monte-" Tommy started.

"You can organize them and come up with a strategy," Monte continued as if Tommy hadn't spoken. "And when it's time, you can find a way to get word to me. Meanwhile, I'll be the perfect slave; I'll earn their trust and lull them into complacence, and when I get word from you, I'll find the means to kill the members of the royal family old enough to take the throne while they sleep. That will throw the castle into chaos and in the midst of it, you and your men will strike and take them down."

Tommy considered. "It is a good plan. A very good plan." Monte took a deep breath, making as if to push up off the ground. Tommy pressed a hand to his chest, pushing him back down as he added, "With one exception."

Monte tensed. "What's that?"

Tone brooking no argument, Tommy said, "They will take me as the spoil of war, as it should be. I am king, not you, and you are wounded besides. Not to mention you have children and a wife to consider."

Monte looked like he wanted to argue, but Tommy knew he wouldn't, not in front of the other men. It would be tantamount to calling Tommy's authority into question, something they could ill afford just then.

"As you wish, Your Highness."

Tommy's jaw tightened, recognizing the cool tone and formal address for what they were. Monte was angry with him. That was too bad. He wasn't going to let Monte sacrifice himself while Tommy hid in the woods, avoiding the fate that should be his.

Turning to David, Tommy said, "Ride back to Lootus. Provided it hasn't been set upon by more troops, make the announcement that we are about to fall. Give the order to hide as much of our supplies as possible. There are many hidden chambers in the castle and its surroundings that will be hard to ferret out, as you well know. Isaac is to be put in charge until the troops return and Monte can take over. Then find Lisa and Monte's children and tell them that upon my orders, they are to pose as villagers. Under no circumstances are they or anyone else to acknowledge their status as members of the royal family."

It was custom to take the king as a spoil of war and make him a slave to parade in front of the entire kingdom, both to boast victory and to break the spirits of the fallen kingdom. The royal family, however, were systematically executed in order to discourage revolts.

David nodded and stood. Tommy picked up his helmet and rose to his feet also.

Reaching out, he laid a hand on David's armor-clad shoulder and said, "Also, tell our people that despite appearances, I am not giving up on them. I will look for a way to save us all until my dying breath."

David hesitated, then reached out, pulling Tommy into a fierce embrace. Tommy allowed himself to hug him back for a moment, not caring one bit how un-king-like the action was. David was one of his oldest, most trusted friends along with Monte and Isaac-who had stayed behind to guard the castle in their absence-and this might be the last time he saw him.

Eventually they pulled apart and Tommy took a deep breath, turning back the way he'd come. He stopped short, finding Monte standing in his path, and a second later, he was pulled into another embrace. He held on tight, and when Monte whispered against his ear to please reconsider, Tommy refused and told Monte to take care of his wife and children.

When they pulled apart, Tommy looked around at the men surrounding them and said as loudly as he dared, "I am naming Lord Monte Pittman Chieftain of Tousma, in charge of all affairs of the kingdom in my absence. He will lead and organize the revolt, and all of you are to follow his command as if it was my own."

"Aye, Your Highness," was the resounding response.

Satisfied, Tommy took one last look around him, put his helmet back on, and started back for the battlefield and the fate awaiting him.

Tommy jumped back into the fray, fighting for all he was worth in a last ditch effort to stave off the inevitable, slashing and jabbing and dodging sword and arrow alike. He was holding his own when one of his men shouted to him to watch behind him. Tommy whipped around, lifting his sword instinctively, just in time to block a downward thrust that would have been sure to severe his spine had his reflexes not been so fast. Instead, he found himself staring into blue eyes attached to a man several inches taller than him. Judging by the royal crest carved into his shield and helmet, Tommy assumed he was one of the princes of Vox.

For a long moment, they stood suspended in time, swords blocking each other, eyes locked, until someone nearby shouted, "Prince Adam! He is the king!"

Prince Adam's eyes dropped from Tommy's to his neck. Tommy waited as the prince inspected the medallion hanging from it, and after a tense moment, Prince Adam's eyes returned to his.

"You are the king? I was told he was an old man."

Tommy tensed. "He was. He died at one of your men's hands on this very field."

Prince Adam studied him for a long moment, then said, "You are losing, as I'm sure you are well aware. Surrender now and lives will be spared."

Even though this was the plan he and Monte had set in motion in the woods, it was still a hard lot to swallow, and so it took Tommy a moment spent wrestling with the urge-the instinct-to fight, before he was able to make himself do what needed to be done.

Without a word, he dropped his sword and slid to his knees, bowing his head in surrender.

Above him, the prince was silent for a moment, then shouted to someone nearby, "Sound the horn! The king has surrendered!"

Tommy cringed as the horn blew and the sounds of battle dwindled to nothing. He could feel all eyes on him and wished for a split second to be beheaded then and there and spared the shame of surrender, let alone the betrayal he was sure to see in his men's eyes, given they had not been privy to Tommy's announcement in the woods and therefore did not know this wasn't a true surrender, that it was just a ploy on par with Vox's ploy to ambush them.

To Tommy, Prince Adam ordered, "Remove your helmet."

Slowly, Tommy reached up and pulled it off his head, his long blond hair swirling around his shoulders and falling in his face as his head remained bowed.

"Look up at me," the prince ordered.

Reluctantly, Tommy looked up and met Prince Adam's penetrating gaze.

"I need the words, King…"

"Thomas Joseph," Tommy supplied, refusing to give the prince leave to use his more common name.

Prince Adam nodded. "I need the words, King Thomas Joseph Ratliff. Do you surrender and place yourself and your kingdom at the mercy of King Gregory Lambert of Vox?"

Tommy swallowed, gathered his courage, and said loudly so as to be heard by all near them, as was necessary, "I do."

"Where are the rest of the members of the royal family?" Prince Adam asked.

This was where things became tricky, Tommy knew. He trusted in the loyalty of his men, but at the same time, he knew they must feel betrayed. He just hoped they recognized what Tommy was about to do as a sign that there was more going on than met the eye.

"I was King Ronald Ratliff's only child. There are no other members in line for the throne."

Prince Adam frowned. "I had heard there was a brother-in-law."

Tommy nodded. He'd hoped they hadn't had even that information, but given they did, he'd have to at least acknowledge it. "There was. He also died in battle today."

"And his wife and children?"

Tommy tensed, dismayed that Prince Adam had so much information. "They died of influenza this past winter. It ravaged our kingdom." Something that was true enough, except that Lisa and the children had all miraculously recovered instead of succumbing like many others had.

Prince Adam looked up at the surrounding warriors and picked one from Tommy's kingdom at random. "You. Answer me truthfully and you will not be enslaved like the others. You will be free to go. Does your former king speak the truth?"

The knight nodded. "He does. It was tragic, and I believe part of the reason Lord Monte didn't survive the afternoon. He had lost the will to live."

Tommy fought against the urge to exhale in relief. Hopefully the lies he'd just told had given his men the inkling that something was in the works and would therefore follow the knight's example.

"Very well," Prince Adam said, "You may take your horse and leave." Turning to Tommy, Prince Adam said, "King Gregory is on his way back to Erus to see to an urgent matter. You will formally surrender to him there."

Prince Adam reached down and gripped the medallion around Tommy's neck. Carefully, he lifted it over Tommy's head and secured it to his belt, leaving it to hang there. Turning on his heel, Prince Adam motioned for a couple of soldiers to step forward. "Prepare him for the journey."

Tommy stood and suffered the humiliation of being stripped of his armor and padding right on the battlefield, leaving him in nothing but a linen shirt and pants. Then his hands and feet were bound with lengths of rough rope and he was summarily tossed onto the back of a horse on his stomach. His arms and legs were left dangling on either side, secured to each other under its belly, rendering him helpless, his humiliation complete. He wouldn't even be allowed to march to his fate with the others.

He was left like that for the better part of two hours while the rest of his men were stripped of their weapons and armor and tied together in rows for the march to Erus. Tommy's feet and hands were nearly numb by the time the reins of the horse he was on were picked up by none other than Prince Adam himself. Tommy risked a look at the man, and was disconcerted by the sympathy in the prince's blue eyes. It was gone in a flash, though, hidden behind an inscrutable expression that left Tommy wondering if he'd imagined it.

What Tommy wasn't imagining, though, as they started down the path, was the way he bumped and bounced along on the hard saddle, the saddle horn digging into his side every time he was jostled about. He gritted his teeth, dropping his head to one outstretched arm as he tried to relax into the horse's gait, knowing even so he would be sore and bruised by the time they arrived at the castle and he was made to face whatever fate awaited him.



It was late afternoon when they halted to eat. Tommy fully expected to be left where he was and not fed. He'd heard rumors of Vox's king, of course, of how cruel he could be. It followed that his nephews would be like that too-King Eber, the princes' father, had died some years back and their mother in child birth before that, leaving the throne to Eber's brother, Gregory-so it surprised Tommy when he found himself cut loose of the rope connecting his hands to his feet, and yanked off the horse's back.

Tommy's feet hit the ground much too fast. After hours of lying half upside down, dizziness washed over him and his legs and feet-half numb from the position he'd laid in, along with the too-tight bindings-gave out. He felt himself falling, but before he could crumple to the ground, a hand was at his waist, pulling him in, pulling him up, holding him close.

Tommy looked up and found himself staring into Prince Adam's inscrutable face. The prince stared down at him for a moment before asking, "Can you stand now?"

Tommy wanted to be able to say yes, but knew he'd just collapse again if Prince Adam let go. "My feet are numb and I can only half feel my legs."

Prince Adam's expression darkened and he cursed. Without warning, the prince bent and hoisted Tommy up over his shoulder, carrying him away from the horse. Tommy gasped in surprise, then grunted as he was dumped on his backside at the base of a tree. Even more surprising, Prince Adam then knelt at his feet and began working the bindings around his ankles free.

"I told those lackwits not to tie them too tight," Prince Adam grumbled.

Tommy's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I assumed that was on purpose."

Prince Adam snorted. "I'm glad you have such a high opinion of me."

Tommy blinked at him incredulously. "And I'm what? Meant to sing your praises? I was just forced to surrender my kingdom to yours."

Prince Adam paused in untying the knot at Tommy's ankles and shot him a sharp look. "You forget you are no longer a king but a slave. You'd do well to adjust your speech accordingly."

Tommy's cheeks heated at the reminder, even as his eyes narrowed at the censure. He knew he should beg forgiveness, but just then he couldn't bring himself to. Pressing his lips tightly together, he just barely held his tongue.

Prince Adam nodded his head, obviously sensing Tommy's struggle, and said, "Good choice, but fair warning. Speak like that in front of the king and you'll find yourself on the wrong end of a whip."

Tommy just huffed in response and looked away, although he took the warning to heart. He was going to have to find a way to set aside everything he'd learned about how to act, how to think. As far as the Kingdom of Vox was concerned, he was a slave now, even if it was a ruse. He needed to remember that.

Prince Adam went back to working the knot free, and at last Tommy felt circulation begin to flow back into his feet. He gasped in relief and laid his head back against the trunk of the tree.

Quietly, he asked, "Any hope you'll free my wrists, too?" His hands had long since turned purple.

For a moment, Prince Adam looked like he wasn't going to so much as respond to the request, but then he motioned for Tommy to hold his hands out. When Tommy did, he went to work on the knot there as well.

Tommy sighed in relief as his hands were freed, letting them fall to his sides.

Prince Adam studied him for a long moment before saying, "If you try to run, we will hunt you down."

Tommy met Prince Adam's intent gaze and said, "I would never abandon my people. I have no intention of running."

"They are no longer your people. They are slaves of Vox, just as you are."

Tommy's jaw tightened and after a moment he responded, "Be that as it may, it will take more than a few hours slung over the back of a horse for me to think of them that way, and even then I wouldn't ask them to suffer a fate I'm not prepared to suffer myself."

Prince Adam stared hard at him before his features relaxed and he nodded. Standing, he indicated some bushes to the side. "Use those to relieve yourself if need be. I will send someone over with food when it's prepared."

"Thank you," Tommy said, meaning it.

Prince Adam didn't respond, merely turned and walked away, leaving Tommy on his own.



When it was time to set out again, Tommy expected to be bound by one of the knights milling around, but instead it was Prince Adam himself who walked over with two lengths of rope and bound him, hand and foot, securely enough to prevent his escape should he try, but not so securely that it cut off his circulation like before.

Jaw tight for reasons Tommy couldn't fathom, Prince Adam then stood and pulled Tommy to his feet, again slinging him over his shoulder. It was disconcerting how little effort it took for Prince Adam to pick him up. Tommy knew he wasn't a large man-he had long ago given up on one last growth spurt to shoot him up to a reasonable height or at least allow him to fill out like Monte had-but at the same time, he wasn't used to being manhandled by another man the way Prince Adam was manhandling him. Most of his friends were his size or only slightly bigger with the exception of David, who was nearly Prince Adam's height, but lacked his broad build and bulk. David wasn't weak by any means, but the thought of him slinging Tommy over his narrow shoulder and carting him off would have been amusing if Tommy hadn't thought of it while being prepared to be taken to see his new king … and as a slave, no less.

When they reached the horse, Prince Adam set Tommy on his feet briefly, then spanned his waist with two hands and hoisted him up, dumping him on his stomach once again. Just like before, his legs were tied to his arms under the belly of the horse and Tommy tried not to think about what would happen to him if the horse stepped into a hole and broke a leg, or worse, reared up or took off in fright, all real dangers when traveling a wooded road as dusk approached.

Steeling himself against the morbid thoughts, Tommy watched as Prince Adam bent over his hands, tying the rope from his ankles. Now that his helmet was off, Tommy could see that Prince Adam had long, black hair, which was secured with a length of leather at the nape of his neck, a common practice among knights. Tommy's own blond hair was long enough to do the same with, but he'd never liked the feel of his hair tied back in that manner.

Clearing his throat as Prince Adam finished and straightened, Tommy looked up at him through the curtain of hair in his face due to his position, and asked, "Will we reach Erus before nightfall? Or will we be making camp along the way?"

"Hoping to delay your official surrender to the king by a day?" Prince Adam asked, a note of disdain in his voice. Whether that was directed at Tommy or King Gregory, though, Tommy couldn't hazard a guess.

"No, actually," Tommy said. "I'd rather this be over sooner than later."

Prince Adam blinked at that. "We will be there by nightfall. Before, most likely."



True to Prince Adam's word, they arrived before nightfall. Not by much, but by enough. They crossed the drawbridge and halted just inside the outer wall. Tommy lifted his head and tried to see what was going on, but in his current position, he couldn't see much.

Moments later, Tommy felt a tug on the rope connecting his arms and legs, and then the newly cut end was slithering to the ground under the horse, still attached to his wrists. He felt another tug and then his ankles were cut loose too, freeing his feet. Abruptly, he was yanked off the back of the horse by the leather belt around his waist, and found himself pressed back to chest against someone behind him, an arm around his waist to steady him. Tommy twisted to look and found it was Prince Adam who had him again.

"Are your legs and feet numb, or can you stand?"

"I can stand," Tommy replied.

Prince Adam scowled. "You can stand … what?"

Tommy's face heated as he realized what Prince Adam was waiting for. Although he'd love to be angered by it, would love to curse Prince Adam as an arrogant asshole for pointing it out and making him say it, there wasn't a hint of arrogance in Prince Adam's voice or in his expression. Between that reminder and the ones earlier-about the men not being his anymore, but being slaves of Vox instead, and the warning about how to talk to the king-Tommy was shocked to realize that Prince Adam seemed to be trying to help him. It was preposterous to think that the prince would give a damn, but there it was.

That in mind, Tommy swallowed and prepared himself to address Prince Adam in the manner he'd only ever previously addressed his parents and the sovereign of Ubertas the one time he'd met him before he died. He had yet to meet the new sovereign.

It wasn't that Tommy was hung up on titles; he wasn't. And it wasn't that he was arrogant himself or considered himself better than anyone; he didn't. Slavery had been abolished in Tousma the very year the new sovereign had decreed it legal for any kingdom within its borders to do so that wished it. In point of fact, Tommy had asked for and been given the task by his father to bring about the changes needed to accommodate a kingdom suddenly free of slavery. It hadn't been an easy transition, but it had been worth it. The idea that anyone could own someone else had never sat well with Tommy.

And therein lay the problem. He didn't believe anyone had the right to own anyone else, so finding himself in a position where others believed they owned him, where they believed that they could dictate what he did or didn't say, what he did or didn't do, whether he even continued to draw breath or whether he ceased and turned to ash… It was untenable. And there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He was at their mercy.

"I can stand, My Lord," Tommy said, voice subdued as heat suffused his face.

Prince Adam's lips pressed together, as though he didn't like the idea that he was now Tommy's better, one of Tommy's owners, any more than Tommy did … but that made no sense whatsoever. After all that Tommy had heard about the ruthlessness of the Kingdom of Vox, he found it hard to believe anything he was sensing from Prince Adam. The man was a veritable mystery.

"Very well," Prince Adam said after a moment, his arm sliding away from Tommy's waist.

Once Tommy stepped away, Prince Adam grabbed the length of rope still attached to his wrist bindings and tugged on it. "Come along, slave. It's time to meet the king."

Tommy stumbled forward as Prince Adam started off. He had to hurry to keep up with the prince's long strides but he managed, in spite of the ache in his arms and legs and the pain in his ribs from the constant jostling about in the saddle. He was certain that if he checked, there would already be bruises scattered down along his side.

Up through the courtyard they walked, while on each side of the pathway, soldiers who had been left behind to guard the castle and commoners who lived inside the castle walls cheered as Tommy was paraded past. Risking his footing, Tommy chanced a glance behind him and found that his men were being marched in behind him in two lines, still attached by lengths of rope and guarded by knights on horseback with spears and swords.

His stomach sank at the defeat on their faces, and at the betrayal in some of their eyes when they met his. He wished he could explain, wished somehow all of this wasn't happening; not for his sake, but for theirs. Most of them had families back in Tousma that were now lost to them, left to fend for themselves.

According to the Realm of Ubertas' dictates, the subjects of Tousma would not be enslaved. Instead, Lootus would become a holding and the inhabitants of it and the rest of the kingdom would become subjects of Vox. Further, the soldiers that had been left behind to guard Lootus would be given the option to swear their fealty to King Gregory and the Kingdom of Vox. If they did not, the ones with land would be stripped of it, and they would be turned out of the kingdom and left to find another kingdom to pledge for, or to become mercenaries-knights for hire.

In this case, though, Tommy knew Monte would be lying in wait for the ones that refused to pledge, looking to recruit them for the revolt. Tommy hoped as many as possible refused the pledge. Judging by the overwhelming number of Vox's soldiers crowded into the yard, they were going to need all the help they could get if their plan was to be a success.

Finally, they were through the throng of people. Tommy followed Prince Adam into the keep and through a set of doors that led to what appeared to be the castle's great hall. Here, he assumed, was where he'd be formally presented to the king.

Prince Adam jerked on Tommy's rope and Tommy realized he was dragging his feet. He'd meant it earlier when he said he'd rather this be over sooner than later, but that didn't change the fact that he was dreading it, too. Jaw clenched, he picked up the pace as they crossed the large, stone room richly decorated with tapestries and sconces.

Prince Adam came to a halt before the throne that sat at one end and Tommy stopped behind him. A horn blasted and all within the walls of the great hall fell silent.

Voice loud and clear, Prince Adam said to the man sitting on the throne, "King Gregory Salvatore Lambert. I present to you this spoil of war, Thomas Joseph Ratliff, king of Tousma until his surrender earlier this day."

With that, Prince Adam stepped aside, grabbed Tommy by the back of his neck, and shoved him forward hard enough that Tommy fell to his knees. He winced as his kneecaps collided with the stone floor and had to bite the inside of his lip to keep from crying out. He resisted the urge to glare at Prince Adam, wondering how he ever could have entertained the idea that Prince Adam was anything other than he was-an entitled, cruel prince on par with the king. Instead, Tommy kept his head down and his bound fists clenched as he awaited King Gregory's response.

"Thomas Joseph Ratliff. Look at me."

Reluctantly, Tommy looked up, and stared into the face of the man who had brought about the death of his father and the downfall of his kingdom. Immediately, a surge of rage welled up inside him and he had to restrain himself from leaping to his feet and attacking the man where he sat on his throne.

"Do you, in fact, surrender your crown, your people and your land to me, as Prince Adam has said?"

It very nearly made Tommy sick as he responded, "Yes, Your Highness, I do, and I ask only that you be fair and merciful in deciding our fates."

If there hadn't been a plan to overthrow the kingdom in place, Tommy's response would have been much, much different.

Solemnly, King Gregory nodded, although Tommy didn't miss the glint in his eyes that spoke to the fact that he was enjoying this immensely. "Of course. I accept your surrender." Looking to Prince Adam, King Gregory asked, "And the medallion?"

Prince Adam unhooked it from his belt and stepped up to the throne, presenting it to the king. King Gregory took it and stood, stepping around the throne to a set of artfully arranged carved hooks attached to the wall behind him. There, he hung the medallion next to three others like it. Two of them, Tommy knew from stories he'd been told, were very old, from before Tommy's time. The other one, though, had been from a kingdom that had dared take on Vox. They had failed miserably, and word had it their king lasted only a very short time as a spoil of war before he was put to death for his refusal to subjugate himself.

Tommy needed to remember not to make that mistake. He was all the hope his people had. No matter how many soldiers Monte managed to recruit, they needed the royal family of Vox dead and the kingdom in chaos if they had any chance of success.

Returning to his seat, the king said with obvious relish, "You are hereby stripped of your crown and your freedom and made the lowest of slaves. You shall be presented to all who live in the castle and to all who visit it as an example of Vox's great strength and success. To that end, you will work in the kitchens and you are to serve evening meals to the royal table."

Tommy's fists clenched, but he didn't protest, knowing his assignment could have been worse. Much worse. This put him in the greatest visibility, though, and apparently that was what mattered most to this king.

Looking away from Tommy, the king motioned someone over and said, "Cut off his hair."

Tommy's gut clenched. He'd forgotten about this part. Nobility wore their hair long, past their shoulders, and commoners wore their hair just above shoulder length. All slaves, however, wore their hair short or shaved, both because their living conditions were such that they were in close quarters and it kept down on the lice population, and as a way of distinguishing them from freemen and freewomen. A spoil of war, however, was further set apart and humiliated by being made to wear their hair short everywhere save one swath that was left to fall ear length, as a sign of the royalty that had been stripped of them. It served to make them stand out, to set them apart both from nobility and from the other slaves, ensuring that they were never accepted by either. Where that swath was left was at the discretion of the conquering king.

"Where would you like the swath left, King Gregory?" The man who stepped forward with scissors in hand asked.

The king studied Tommy for a long moment, then finally said, "In the front, I should think, so that it's always falling in his eyes as he works, reminding him of all he's lost."

Tommy had to fight hard not to let what he thought of the king show on his face. The typical place to leave the swath was at the back of the head, where it was out of the way of work. He should have guessed by the king's reputation that he wouldn't show him that kindness.

The cruel curl of the king's lips as he stared Tommy down, though, told Tommy he knew exactly how he felt about the decree.

Tommy didn't break eye contact with the king even once as the servant cut his hair close to his scalp all the way around his head save for the fringe left in front to fall over one eye. He ended the king a hundred different ways in the time it took his locks to be shorn away. It was the first time he'd every truly felt bloodlust and he welcomed it. It was going to make murdering the bastard in his sleep that much easier.

After the last of his blond hair fell to the ground and was swept away, the man who had cut it flicked one of Tommy's pierced earlobes and asked, "What should I do with these? Rip them out?"

Tommy's gut clenched at the thought, but he schooled his features to that of indifference.

The king considered, then asked, "What did these piercings mean in your former kingdom, slave?"

Piercings were common across the kingdoms. However, their meaning varied from land to land.

"They signify the number of major battles I have participated in and won for my kingdom," Tommy said, unable to keep the note of pride out of his voice. To hell with it if he got them ripped out for it.

The king's eyes widened in surprise, and then disbelief. He threw back his head and laughed before saying, "You expect me to believe that you, as slight of build as you are, are a storied warrior with how many? Seven-no make that nine with that double piercing near the top of one-wins to your name?"

Tommy stiffened. His ability was questioned all the time by those who had not seen him in action, but it didn't make it any easier to take. It was the bane of his existence, being underestimated and dismissed due to his build.

"It's true, Your Highness. And the number is seven. The two near the top on my right ear are for the loss of my sister and mother during childbirth."

Dying in child birth was considered a death worthy of a warrior in the realm since pregnancies were rife with risk. The men in his kingdom had always felt it important to remember their sacrifice. Even though both babies had also been lost, it didn’t change the fact that Tommy's mom and sister had died heroes. Even King Gregory wouldn't dishonor that by having those ripped out, so Tommy knew those two, at least, were safe.

"I have a difficult time believing your story, slave. I cannot imagine you besting a mouse, quite frankly."

Guffaws rose around the room, but before Tommy could respond, Prince Adam spoke up.

"If I may, Uncle?"

King Gregory looked at him and nodded.

"I observed him in battle before I engaged him. He is a formidable opponent. He felled three of our men in record time before my very eyes, which was why I deigned to take him by surprise, rather than face him head on, and still he was able to thwart my attack."

Tommy blinked at the unexpected praise, but wisely kept his mouth shut, waiting for the king to decide for himself.

The king turned to a foot soldier and said, "Find someone out in the courtyard from his kingdom who cannot hear us and ask them what the piercings are for."

They waited for long minutes as the soldier ran off to do the king's bidding. Tommy tried not to fidget too much, although his knees were starting to hurt badly from kneeling for so long on the unforgiving stone.

Finally, the soldier rushed back in and said, "Aye, Your Highness. The slave tells the truth."

King Gregory nodded. "Very well. Leave the piercings. They will further show our prowess, having taken down such a formidable opponent and kingdom, considering his victories are their victories." Turning to a couple of soldiers, King Gregory said, "Take the spoil of war to his quarters and secure him for the night."

Tommy exhaled quietly in relief. He hadn't been looking forward to the blinding pain he was sure would accompany having seven piercings ripped out of his lobes.

Moments later, after being allowed to relieve himself, he was shown to the slave quarters just off the kitchens. One of his ankles was secured to a bolt in the wall next to the pallet he'd been given to sleep on, and then he was finally left to himself with the other slaves who had already turned in for the night.

The guards who'd escorted him there left the room, taking the only source of light-a torch-with them, enclosing Tommy in an all-encompassing darkness. He could hear that he wasn't alone-sounds of rustling fabric as people moved, sniffing sounds from some, throat clearing from others-but suddenly, in spite of that, Tommy felt well and truly alone. Everything he knew and loved-everyone-was either gone or so far out of his grasp he doubted just then that he'd ever see any of them again.

Coupled with the loss of his father still not even a day past and Tommy felt himself starting to break down. Mortified, he tried to stop the tears, tried to blink them away. Men didn't cry, let alone the king of a nation of men. But then, as far as Vox was concerned, he wasn't king anymore, was he? He wasn't even a freeman. No matter that the surrender was a ruse, no matter that they had a plan that both he and Monte had their parts in and this was his, the simple fact was that in the eyes of everyone in Vox, Tommy was now a slave, his medallion on display for all to see.

Tousma was no more.

His father was no more.

It was that thought, that startled realization in the blackness of the night, that caused the dam to break. Tommy curled in on himself, the chain connecting his shackle to the wall rattling with the movement, and pressed his fist to his mouth to stop any noise coming out as tears streamed down his face, wetting his cheeks and the pallet below his head.

Exhaustion took him sometime later and he fell into a troubled, restless sleep made worse by the bruises littering his body and the stifling heat of a poorly ventilated room with too many people crammed inside it.

[Part 2]