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DISCLAIMER: The following is a fictional story and all characters depicted within are the intellectual property of Silversune. The story contains themes of slavery, punishment, sex between men and men, men and women and possibly men and other 'things'. If you are under 18, it is illegal to read this sort of content in your region, or if you do not enjoy these types of stories please read no further.

Chapter 2

After the warning the young man chose to bide his time. The carriage rocked a little as they moved through the city streets and then stopped in front of the estate he had so recently attempted to rob. Naturally Veles started to get up when they stopped, but a tug on his leash brought his attention back to his new master. “We will not be staying." As he settled he could feel boxes, luggage likely, being added to the top of the carriage and soon after they were off once again.

Not a word was spoken between the two as their carriage moved through the city streets. Only when he looked out the window and saw their departure through the city gates did Veles break the silence as he had never been beyond the relative safety of the city walls. “Where exactly are we going?"

“Sir," his new Master began without bothering to look at him. “You will call me Sir or Master. You may even call me Master Lucian if you want, but you will remember to address me properly." Veles looked at him and scowled before looking back out the window. No answer was forthcoming obviously and the boy was just stubborn enough not to ask again. At least not to ask until they had driven another two hours distance outside of the city.

“So… where are you taking me… sir?" His voice was quiet and he refused to look to the man when he asked, knowing that his admittance must be causing the man to smirk. He would be sadly disappointed though. Count Lucian did little more than turn the page of the book he had begun reading sometime before they'd left the city. “We travel to my estate for the Season and we are overdue thanks to your antics."

The Season was typically comprised of a period between early spring and through to late summer. For Veles it had been a time when fat pockets and purses were ready for the picking. During that period nobles throughout the land would gather in the city regardless of how minor they were. Daughters would be paraded around at parties looking prospective mates while the sons enjoyed the sights and 'entertainments' that couldn't be found in their homesteads. It was not a time when typical nobles would leave the city. Not unless they were in a position not to worry about finding a prospective mate, but were still eligible to be targeted by a pushy mother.

The carriage turned northwards and gradually the fields surrounding the cities outer reaches became sparser and the flattened land gave way to hills. In silence the hours passed and the sound of the horse's hooves clopping on the roadway became nearly meditative. More than once Veles found himself drifting off to sleep only to be snapped back awake as the carriage bounced due to some stone or rut the wheels had gone over.

The sun was dipping low on the horizon when the carriage slowed near a roadside inn and tavern and Veles found himself suddenly and quite quickly alert as the smells of freshly roasted meat began to fill their conveyance. After a quick word with the owner their driver, an intimidating burly man, returned and got the door for the Count before leering at the boy his master was leaving behind.

“See that it is brought in along with my things after he's put in something more presentable." The man nodded and the noble departed after handing over his leash. Stepping into the small carriage then the coachman pulled a bag down from one of the storage bundles overhead and tossed it at the boy. “Yer jus' lucky his Lordship give instructions you ain't t'be touched lad. Country folk don't take too well t'slaves and I'm sure I ain't the only feller in there you'd be keeping company if it t'were otherwise. Now get dressed and behave yerself like the lil servant he's makin y'seem to be."

Veles just stared for a few moments before he grabbed the bag and started to pull out the clothing inside, his head bowed to hide the embarrassed and angry flush caused by the images that the man's warnings had instilled in him. Quickly the boy began to dress, not wanting to be naked around the leering man for long, and soon found himself in a clean copy of the same livery he had worn the fateful day when he had risked much and lost all. Once dressed the man nodded and reached up to take the leash and collar off, but not before he put a firm grip on the boy's arm. Once done he was drug out of the carriage and into the tavern before he could even begin to think of an escape attempt.

The taproom of the inn had a quiet murmur of people within and other than a brief glance at the two servants no one paid them much mind. Veles was drug up the stairs and pushed into the room which Ravensdale had rented for the evening before the coachman followed and set out the count's personal kit. He reattached collar and leash then before giving the boy another leer in parting as he stepped back out of the room.

Lucian glanced over briefly before returning to the meal that had magically already been brought up to the man. “I won't bother saying anything as trite as 'don't try to escape'. Saying such is certainly an invitation for an attempt. Instead I will merely caution that when you do make your attempt you will be caught and when that happens..." he paused, either for emphasis or to take another bite from the roasted fowl on his plate which was causing the boy's mouth to water. “You will be tied to a stake and left out to endure the elements for one hour for every mile you have forced my men or I to travel in effort to recapture you."

It didn't sound like much, but Veles was an intelligent young man and having spent numerous winters attempting to endure the cold and snow he quickly reasoned that any attempt made during the winter could potentially be deadly. No if he were going to run it would be best to do it in the spring or summer. The boy stopped himself then, realizing that he wasn't thinking of how he'd escape and avoid capture, but rather how to survive when he was captured.

A scowl swiftly formed on the slave's face as he looked at the back of Count Lucien's head, the sudden urge to strike out swelling before he sighed and walked over to flop into the second chair. The man across from him looked up and a brow arched for a moment before he sat back. “And what do you think you are doing, slave?" He inquired while lifting a napkin to pat his lips and then dropped it onto the mostly eaten bird.

“What does it look like? I'm sitting… uh sir." Veles spat back before dropping his eyes to the plate while a rumble in his stomach reminded him that he hadn't been given any food before heading to court and that he'd eaten nothing since. “Say… if you're done with that..." He began only to be cut off when a knock came at the door.

“Beggin yer pardon M'Lordship, got the boy's meal here. Ah yer done, here I'll be takin that." The coachman slipped in and inclined his head as he swept the plate away and then dropped a bowl onto the ground beside Veles' chair. What was in it couldn't exactly be called edible. Bit's of meat and bone from unidentifiable sources could be seen under a broth of questionable origins.

Again the coachman departed and Veles sent a questioning look towards Lucian while the man merely motioned to the ground. “It's not going to get any better the colder it gets, dog. And yes, you are no better than a dog and a damn sight worse than the ones that I typically keep, but the distinction will serve my purposes. Because of this you will take your meals on the floor or you won't take them at all.

For a long moment the boy glared icy daggers at his master, but eventually he dropped from the chair. It occurred to him as he did that he was behaving entirely too well through all of this, but the brush of his tongue against the sensitive inside of his lip reminded him of his new status he'd been thrust into. It was his stomach that won out though and he bowed over the bowl before starting to reach in with his hand only to yelp as the sudden sting of a riding crop was felt across his backside. “Dogs don't have hands to use."

Another glare passed from slave to master and then the boy lowered his face to the bowl and began eating slowly. It became swiftly obvious to Veles that the meal set before him was made up of offal, fatty and gristly slices of meat, but though the broth it was served in was greasy it had a good flavor. All in all, though he would be loath to admit it aloud, it was the best meal which Veles remembered having since before his parents died.

That night was spent on the floor of the rented room. He'd been left, once again bound hand and foot to keep him from easily slipping away in the night, on a musty old rug. By the time that first light began to creep into the room Veles' limbs ached from the hardness and chillness of his 'bed'. Like the previous night his hands and legs were freed and the collar removed before the coachman escorted him out to the carriage, this time only moments before the count exited.

With a breakfast of warm bread, honeyed bread and a few apples they were off once again. The coachman, having already eaten his breakfast, wasn't asked to stop when Lucian began to retrieve the still warm bread from the pack the inn keeper had sent along with them. The butter was applied and Veles extended his hands without thinking. The movement, however, was ignored as the nobleman ate. The bread and honeyed butter didn't last long and the apples were tucked away for later, all without offering the slave a bite even though his stomach had started to rumble.

“Can I..." the boy's voice breaking the silence after they had ridden for a couple more hours. Lucian looked up from his book mildly while a slender dark brow arched as he waited for the boy to continue. “Can I please have one of the apples… sir?" Veles finished while focusing not on the treat but on his master's face before dropping his eyes.

After a couple moments of silence Lucian reached into the pack he'd stored the apples in. Pulling out one he looked it over before tossing it to the boy. “Of course. I have no desire to starve you. You had but to ask." A slight smile curved the corner of the Count's lips as he spoke, though it never reached his eyes. While the boy tore into the apple with noisy gusto the man returned to the book he'd been reading the day before.

The next day the carriage continued to press northwards and outside the landscape began to change. From farmlands and fields to hills and eventually Veles thought that he could spy the end of the world in the distance as the mountains they'd come upon cut off his view of the sky and surely where the skies ended so would the land.

The second and third days were little more than a repeat of the first with only the inns changing and the food which they had supplied to the party. During this time neither Veles nor Lucian attempted to make conversation with one another. Instead he began to try and plot what the future may hold for him; the future of a slave or the future of a runaway. And if the later then where that future would be spent as he would never be able to stay in this land without fear of being discovered.

During the long trip to his new master's home, wherever that was, Veles had come to the conclusion that if he would escape it would have to be on the road. After this journey he would be entirely within Ravensdale's power. So despite the warnings that he was given the thief made up his mind and instead of acting out his true desires, that of an insolent criminal, he began to behave himself and put on the facade of a proper slave in an attempt to gain the nobleman's trust.

On the third day he caught a bit of conversation between the coachman and one of the attendants at the inn they were going to be staying in that night.

“Looks like the old gals have had a hard trek so far," said an unfamiliar voice.

“Long, aye, but milord treats em well and sees they get good feed. Don't make me run em ragged though it takes a mite longer t'get from th'city an Larkan Estate." The coachman answered. That was a voice that Veles had come to know well over the last few days.

“That's good, that's good.. But hopefully they'll be getting some rest soon. Th'Roan's shoe be comin loose as well. I'll ring round for the farrier to see t'it before yer takin yer leave in the morning."

As the inn's stable hand spoke the driver approached the carriage and started to reach for the carriage door and began to pull it open, but paused first to inform his master. “Bout halfway there, but with th'mountains it'll take a few more day."

The two men parted as the coachman slid into the carriage and, as had become customary, removed his collar and leash before taking Veles by the arm to drag him out of the coach and then into the inn. The boy barely even noticed though, his mind far too focused on what he'd just heard between the two. Three days they'd been on the road. If they were halfway there then it would take another three days to get to the nobleman's estate on a smooth road the likes that they had been traveling upon already. However, with their speed cut in half because of rough terrain though he could count on anywhere from another five days or so days of travel.