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Deicide	By : Need2ScreamNow Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Avenged Sevenfold Views: 1162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't know, own, or have anything to do with A7x or their significant others. I'm not making any money off this and it's all fiction. Totally made up on a late Friday night.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
A week later, Brian decided he was getting stupid. He didn’t resist at all when Zack pulled him into bed, didn’t flinch when he handed him a plate, and touched the smaller man every chance. Zack was currently sprawled out on top of him dozing. Brian ran his fingers down his spine and across the baby soft skin of his shoulders. He risked a soft kiss to the skin and closed his eyes. So familiar. Everything about him was so familiar and the days he spent with him made it harder to keep things straight. Ghostly images of wings sometimes sprouted from Zack’s back at the most unexpected times. Sometimes his eyes glowed brighter than any emerald he had ever seen. The room was beginning to change as well, it grew to twice its size and the windows stretched all the way to the floor and the view was breathtaking. Flowers of every color and birds, there had to be hundreds, filled flowering trees and weaved through the air. He had always seen things that weren’t there but never with such frequency. Usually it was only once a planting season, he had gone summers without seeing anything and here he was seeing something almost once a day. Zack made a sleepy sound and raised his head, his eyes impossibly green. “What?” he murmured lowering his head again and shifting around. Brian stroked his spine again, “What?” he parroted. Zack’s lips lifted against his chest, “You’ve been staring at me for days. What’s wrong?” he lifted his head again and rested his head in his hands with his elbows on either side of his head and his legs slid to either side of his hips. Brian licked his dry lips, more than familiarity surging through him. Zack blinked and sat up too quickly for it to be natural and then paused. Brian stayed still waiting for some kind of order from the smaller man. Zack looked like he was waiting for Brian to do something. They stared at each other for minutes until Zack slowly lay down again. Brian swallowed and blinked rapidly trying to clear the illusion of wings. It was so real though, he could almost feel the cool silk feathers brushing his bare arms.

Goosebumps prickled his skin when hesitant lips pressed against his neck. He tilted his head and the lips withdrew. “I should probably get ready. Barik is dragging me out to auction today.” Zack murmured. Brian bit his lip holding back a curse and let Zack up. He lay a moment longer and got up to help. Zack pulled his tunic off and Brian tried not to stare. He traded his blue tunic for a white one and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. “Do…will you come with me?” he asked flicking his eyes up a moment before staring at the floor again. Brian kneeled in front of him, “I…don’t think I’ll be welcome. Slaves do not go to auctions unless they’re being sold.” He said gently. Zack’s face crumpled and he got to his feet, “I will be here for you.” He murmured untangling a clump of hair behind his ear. He didn’t look appeased buy nodded. “I don’t want to go. I’m hoping father forgot.” His crestfallen look morphed into a scowl. “Barik will remind him. He’ll love having the whole day with his friends to torment me.” Ghost wings flared behind him and his green eyes were hard and cold as emeralds, not the soft grass green he knew was there. He blinked and shook his head trying to dislodge the illusion, “Don’t let him bother you Zack, he only torments you because he knows it hurts.” He said pulling him close. Zack rested his cheek on his shoulder, “How do I hide pain? Everyone knows I’m nothing to this house and he just grinds the blade deeper.” He whispered. Brian brushed his lips across his temple, “You are the life of this house Zachary.” He countered, “I’ve never had a master so adored. Most are hateful creatures like your brother. The slaves here get through their day thinking of you, remembering you in the kitchen and the fields.” Zack turned his head so the bridge of his nose rested against Brian’s jaw. “Would it…does it sound…never mind.” He mumbled after a moment. Brian tightened his arms around his shoulders savoring the warmth of his chest and watching phantom wings fold around him. “What Zack?”

“It’s nothing.” He said raising his head, the wings finally disappeared and when he looked up at him his eyes were the green of delicate new plants. Brian eyed him doubtfully but didn’t press the issue. “You need to finish getting ready.” He said instead. Zack sighed but picked his sandals off the floor and plopped on the bed to lace them up. Only a few moments after he was ready the lock rattled and Brian moved away from him and the bed. Rory followed the guard in and looked Zack over. Brian stared at him as reality warred with fantasy again. Instead of the heavy cream and gold tunic Rory was dressed for battle. Bronze armor gleamed in the sunlight that found its way in and his war helmet had a plume of horse hair that fell to his mid back that shook when he moved. The lines on his face were diminished or non-existent. He still looked haggard but it was the look of a jaded youth, not the stress of an aging man. A sharp blow from the blunt end of a lance dropped him to his knees with an explosion of air. He stayed down coughing and waited for another hit. Zack’s pale legs moved into his limited field of vision and he was grateful he wouldn’t be hit again. He was getting soft. A month ago the blow would have only stunned him and now it felt like he was going to throw his stomach up.

“He was staring.” The guard defended and how he knew what Zack was asking he didn’t know. All he could hear was a venomous growl rumbling from his green eyed master. “Zachary, stop being so sensitive about the slave. As a third strike he well knows what’s acceptable and what’s not and he chosen more than once to do the unacceptable. If he’s not punished he’ll continue to do wrong.” Rory said sensibly. The growl stopped but the anger was still coming off him in waves. “Leave him now, Barik and the other sons are waiting and the auction will begin soon.” He coaxed. Zack was rigid another second and then stiffly walked out with Rory and the guard.

Zack shuffled out behind Barik to meet the loitering group of six just outside the gates. Barik was greeted with hearty slaps on the back and the beginnings of several sexual encounters. Zack pinged off the wall when one of them shoved him out of the way to get closer to the pod. He trailed behind the group, not too far because of the ring of guards, but enough he could somewhat enjoy the walk. It had rained the night before and after only a few steps his feet and ankles were splattered with mud and the scent of wet earth drifted around him. The smell soothed him some and he looked up at the cloudy sky tracking the lazy circle of birds. Overwhelming yearning pulled him upward and like it had when he was a child the urge to follow and wander had him drifting to the side of the road, to the woods. A guard blocked his path and he paced back to the center. He tried to watch the road but his eyes found the sky and birds more often than not. The want, the need to join them in the sky was almost too much, tears of unknown origin stung his eyes and blurred the shadows to splotches on a grey canvas. A hard hit to his shoulder sent him stumbling back a step into a rear guard. “Pay attention Zachary, this is a school day.” Barik sneered. Zack snarled at him and Barik looked startled for a second before he covered it with his own growl. “No third strikes this time. You make me look like a fool again and your pet will be in the mines.” They were at the edge of town and while Zack had been watching birds people had been filling the road and now mule drawn carts and peasants surrounded them on the way to the market. Some nobles came by in carriages or carried by slaves. The other sons commented on the various forms of transportation, plotting how they would come to market when their fathers finally died and they had their inheritance. Zack listened with growing disinterest and smoldering anger. He loved the market and he didn’t want to go to the slave auction, not with Barik and his cohorts. On pretense of looking at the crammed vendor stalls he checked the spacing and alertness of the guards. They seemed more concerned with keeping the other sons from grabbing every girl that passed.

Closer to the auction platform the crowd began to condense and Zack made his move. While the group worked its way through the lesser nobles to the front he ducked out between a gap in the guards. No alarm was raised and no one tried to drag him back. He weaved in and out through the crowd with his heart hammering. He did it. He was free.

Rory had given him ten coin again with strict instructions to buy anything but a slave. The few coins were heavy in the purse attached to his hip and he wandered from merchant to merchant ogling and wondering over their colorful goods. The things became odder and coarser the further from the auction block he went. What had started with fine silks, gold and silver jewelry, and porcelain dishes became cotton and wool, shells and beads, and pottery dishes. He wandered around a corner and paused. Ahead of him women leaned against buildings in dresses slit to the waist and low cut bodices. A few smiled at him and started to walk over and he ducked into the closest doorway.

Inside was barely lit with candles and the smoke hung heavy enough in the air to burn his eyes. People looked up from their drinks and a few had to look again when they saw him in the doorway. “Ye’ look a lil’ far from home.” Someone called. The room erupted in laughter and he wasn’t sure if this was a good idea.

“Nonsense!” A voice cried. From the dark bar a man jumped up, wobbled, and regained his balance and weaved his way over to him. “This is, this is my friend.” He said almost falling on Zack. Zack wanted to go back to the street but the giant had what felt like his entire body weight on him. “Wha’s yer name?” he slurred loud enough for the closest table to hear. “Z-Zack.” He stuttered not quite sure what to do with the man. “Zack! That’s right! My frien’ Zack.” He cackled. More laughter echoed him and the man behind the bar shook his head smiling. “Um…who are you?” Zack squeaked. The man dropped an arm around his shoulder and dragged him further into the room toward the bar. “Me? Me? I’m…I’m…who am I?”

“James” someone yelled helpfully. James’ bloodshot eyes lit from the inside with pure delight, “Yes! James. I am James. James was, am, were I.” he said nodding sagely. Zack giggled warming to the loud giant. “It’s nice to meet you James.” He said cordially. “Course it is!” he yelled. “A spoonful of Jimmy makes…what? Makes the worl’ go ‘round!” he released Zack and felt his way over to his stool again, “hit me again,” he cried. The bartender rolled his eyes, “With what?” he asked. James stared at him, wobbling some on the stool, “What efer I been drinkin’!” he said indignantly. “You been drinkin’ everything.” The bartender countered. Zack sat on the stool next to James. “Two gins.” He said quietly hoping he had the word right. He’d heard Barik and his friends discussing pubs once and he was certain that had come up a few times. The bartender stared at Zack and shook his head while pulling out two stout mugs. “Whatever you say, two coin.” Zack set the payment on the counter and the mugs were set before him and James. Zack took a sip and put the glass down before he could drop it his face screwing into a grimace that he tried to hide. The bartender chuckled and returned to making drinks for the other patrons. Zack tried to scrape the burning feeling off his tongue on the roof of his mouth. James took a huge swallow and, unprovoked, launched into a thrilling story of his battle with mercenaries some years ago.

Zack suspected most, if not all, of the stories were being made up on the spot as snickers and chuckles came from others at the bar and from behind him. Still, he found himself listening with rapt attention as he told one story after. Despite the slurred words James was an excellent story teller and the more stories he told the more the slur disappeared and was replaced with a slight lisp. The stories ranged from epic battles to thieving horses and gems from far away nobles and lands. Halfway through such a harrowing tale a loud snort made Zack jump. He had been too entrenched in the tale to notice the small shadow coming up behind him. “What tall tales are ya’ tellin’ now alky?” a youthful voice asked. An arm snaked around Zack and grabbed his untouched mug and took a gulp. James ocean blue eyes lit up again, “Johnny, what trouble you been in?” he asked slyly. The young boy sat on the stool behind Zack and slid a leather pouch across the bar to James. Zack looked the ruffian over unsure of what to do with him. He didn’t come across as hostile but he was blatantly ignoring him. He had a cap pulled low over his eyes with walnut brown hair poking from under it and his face was a little dirty with smudges of dirt on his cheeks and down his neck. He pulled another pouch out of his dirty tunic and tossed it toward the bartender. In a second it disappeared somewhere behind the bar and everyone carried on as if they hadn’t seen the odd behavior. “What’s the news, scamp?” Someone asked gruffly. He grabbed Zack’s mug again but didn’t drink. “Mercenaries are tearing the town up. Seems a green eyed noble has come up missing.” He said giving Zack a sideways look. Zack blinked, “Mercenaries?” he’d never seen a mercenary before, he’d heard about them and not just from James’ outlandish stories. His father had soldiers but they were different from mercenaries in that they were loyal to Rory; mercenaries were loyal to the highest bidder. They were drop out soldiers and thieves who operated under a cloak of legitimacy.

Zack’s brow furrowed, “I didn’t think they would miss me until—” he turned around to glance out the door and blood drained from his face. The street was now darker than the pub, full night had descended while James had been talking. “night.” He finished softly. Rory was going to be so angry, so furious. “Oh no.” if he didn’t beat him again he could take Brian away, this time for good. He was going to be so mad. Johnny chuckled, “Whasamatter? Scared to walk the streets alone?” his voice was hard and the low laughter that came from the pub wasn’t as friendly as it had been. Zack barely registered the voices. He would be trapped in his room until Barik took control and even then there was only a slim chance he would throw him on the street instead of bolting the door shut for good. “He’ll never let me out again.” He whispered to himself. “What?” the boy’s sarcastic smirk became puzzled. “He locks me in my room.” He said almost dreamily. He was going to lose his mind stuck in that room. The only reason he hadn’t yet was the knowledge that any day Rory could storm in and order him to market with Barik. He found himself explaining his captivity to the pub people in his quiet voice still staring at the yawning darkness outside the door.

“What a pity. No work and fed three times a day while you lounge in silks and gold.” One of the bar sitters chuckled darkly. Johnny shot a look at him over his shoulder, “Doesn’t matter how much silk or gold there is, prison is prison and it ain’t a fun place to be.” He snapped. The man quieted and there was a murmur of agreement through the crowd. From the dark door one of the women off the street stepped in, “Mercenaries.” She warned before she was hurrying out again. At once there was movement; chairs scooting in, people pulled hats low or hunched over their drinks, the bar tender slammed things in a cupboard. “C’mon, let’s get you hid.” James said almost picking him up off the stool. “Back here.” The bartender said nodding his head at the bar. Johnny followed him back and crouched with him under the bar, “Stay quiet when they come in. They like to make noise but they don’t look to good, they’ll be gone soon and then you’ll be free.” He whispered. Zack nodded hesitantly.

A moment later heavy boots thudded across the wood floor. “We’ve a wayward noble, any you ruffians seen ‘em?” a loud voice demanded. There was a mutter of negatives and Zack hid his head in his knees. “I said, anyone seen ‘em!” he roared. “I did.” James’ goofy voice answered. Johnny palmed his face and shook his head. “He was here and then one of the street girls lured him out with her charms.” Nervous laughter followed the declaration. “That’s real funny.” It sounded like the man was standing over them and Zack was certain he could hear his heart thudding. There was a loud smack and a hard thud and absolute silence. “But I ain’t real amused when there’s money to be made.” He growled. There was a soft wump and a high yelp of pain. Zack’s muscles tensed and Johnny laid a hand on his arm. “He ain’t feelin’ it the alcohol numbs ‘em up.” He breathed. Zack shook his head, James hadn’t touched his drink since that first gulp and told Johnny as much. The boy’s face paled there was another sound and yelp and Zack shot to his feet.

The three mercenaries were the massive, bigger even than Rory, and they stared at him in surprise. “Leave him alone.” He had meant for it to be an order but it came out as a soft request. “What’re you doin’?” Johnny yelled jumping up beside him.

“Hey!” one of the mercenaries snarled, Johnny looked at the man and blanched. “You’re the bastard that stole my coin.” He pulled out a long broadsword and as if he were moving in a dream Zack felt himself jump the bar and grab a sword off another mercenary. He caught the broadsword mid-blade with his smaller one and it sank deep into the bar. He whirled around and kicked out catching the mercenary tormenting James in the hip and knocking him back a pace. By the time his mind caught up to his actions everyone in the bar was gaping at him. The tip of the sword trembled with his body and the mercenary he had taken the sword from pulled it out of his limp grip and returned it to its sheath. The leader of the group yanked his sword out of the bar, “Yer lucky yer worth more alive.” He seethed. Zack cowered back when the kicked man swung at him. The blow never came and when he chanced looking he found the third mercenary standing between him and the others. “Get out to the street before you’re humiliated further.” He advised the angry man. “Move Matthew, that spoiled brat needs to learn some manners.” He raged. Matthew snorted, “Perhaps you should learn to use your sword.” He countered scathingly. The man froze and growled before stalking out the door pushing over chairs and shoving people as he went. Zack cautiously kneeled down next to James and Johnny while the mercenaries argued.

James had a deep cut on his forehead and his face and neck were bloody, Johnny was holding a rag to it but the blood didn’t seem to be slowing. “Have you any tamarind?” he asked the bartender. He nodded and rummaged around in the bar and handed him a handful of leaves. He grabbed James’ mug and wetted a couple and twisted them until they were as close to a paste as he could get. “This will sting.” He murmured. Johnny took the rag away, “Ya’ know what you’re doin’, right?” he asked nervously. Zack nodded and pressed the gunk against the wound. James’ head jerked back on reflex from the stinging pain but he settled after a deep breath. “The tamarind will stop the bleeding and should numb it some and the alcohol will keep the bad blood out.” Zack murmured. James’ ocean blue eyes met his curiously, “You’re an odd duck.” He said. Zack hugged him on impulse, “Thank you for trying to help me.” He whispered. “A very odd duck.” James murmured. Zack felt a sad smile tug his lips as he started to stand. “You were almost free.” Johnny said shaking his head. Zack shook his head, “It’s not worth the pain it causes.” He said. “I can’t leave Brian either. Father would send him to the mines tomorrow if I don’t go home.”

“You’ll give up freedom for a slave?” Johnny said incredulously.

“Odd duck.” James repeated. Johnny rolled his eyes. “It sounds like that blow knocked even more of your senses loose.” Zack faced the mercenaries, “I’ll give up freedom for a friend.” He said quietly.

The mercenaries didn’t take chances with him. Matthew kept a vice grip on the back of his neck as they exited the pub and swung up on the horse behind him so he could keep a grip on him while they rode back to Rory’s. Zack’s fear of facing Rory again was tempered by the wonder of riding a horse. He’d never ridden before and it was exhilarating feeling the wind in his face and hearing the loud clop of hooves on cobblestone.

“You are quite the odd duck.” Matthew said as they left town. Zack hesitantly reached out and touched the horse’s neck and another little thrill shook him. He patted with more confidence and boldly untangled a lock of hair near the saddle horn. “What are you doing?” Matthew asked. Zack tucked his hands under his arms and didn’t answer afraid he had done something wrong. The arm wrapped around his waist tightened some, “You’re a timid little thing.” He murmured. Zack didn’t comment but his next sentence piqued his curiosity. “You’ve never left Mozaik have you?” it wasn’t accusing but more focused like he was trying to remember something. Zack shook his head mutely. Matthew sighed, “Thought so, now why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?” his voice dropped and the underlying coarseness became more pronounced. Zack looked over his shoulder at him and examined his face. His hazel eyes were black in the night and the angry scar running down the left of his face gave him a sinister appearance. He had never dealt with mercenaries before, Rory didn’t like them and he must’ve been extremely worried or extremely angry to resort to their services. “I don’t know.” He said but as he spoke familiarity pricked him too. “I don’t know.” He repeated.

Lights of home lit up the road and the fear returned. Soldiers came out to meet the horses and Matthew helped him down. His knees were weak and he leaned against the solid body of the horse behind him. “Zachary!” Rory’s bellow echoed off the hills and he was hoping the ground would swallow him before he could get to him. He could feel Matthew looking at him and realized his breathing was quick and ragged he tried to even his breathing but it didn’t improve much. Rory came to a halt inches from him furious beyond words, a low growl rumbled out of him and Zack’s head snapped to the side. His world spun and when it finally righted itself he realized Matthew was holding him up and a harsher growl was rumbling through his chest. He huddled against the mercenary terrified of Rory’s violence, his breathing was ragged again and he was trembling. “Out of the way mercenary, you’ve done what you were hired to do.” Rory seethed. “He’s terrified.” Matthew said simply. “Given the part of town we found him in I would think you’d be happy to see him alive and unharmed.”

“And you would be wrong.” He snarled. Zack swallowed fearfully and released his grip on Matthew. Rory would only get more enraged the longer this took. He untangled himself from Matthew and faced Rory shaking, “I’m sorry.” He whimpered. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” Rory scruffed him and dragged him back to the gates. “Pay the mercenaries and make sure they get on their way.” He barked at the guards.

Rory tossed him through the door and he hit the marble floor hard on his knees. “Where have you been Zachary?” Rory snarled circling him like a shark. Zack stayed down, “I just…I wanted to see the market.” He cried. Rory backhanded him again, “You were told to stay with Barik!”

“I don’t see why you care if I come home or not! Had Barik not tattled would you even know I was gone? You keep me locked up like a pet, like fine silver only brought out for guests to admire.” He yelled scrambling to his feet. Rory gawked at him for a moment, “Guards!” he roared. Zack watched him in fear as the guards came rushing in. “Take the third strike to the fields. Thirty lashings.” He barked. “No!” Zack screamed, “No, no, no, no! He hasn’t done anything!” Fury burned through him and he ached to hold the mercenary’s sword again. “Take Zachary to his room.” He added. Two guards came to escort him and he lashed out kicking, punching, and screaming until three more had to join the fray and drag him through the halls.

They dumped him into his room and as soon as he had his feet under him he launched himself at the door screaming every filthy obscenity he had ever heard Barik or the guards speak. He pounded and kicked the wood until his knuckles bled and his voice was hoarse and then he sank down in front of it crying.

Brian couldn’t feel his legs, his back was shredded and the guards dragged him down the dirt paths to the field houses skinning his knees and shins. He rolled across a rough stone floor and was dragged up again, his arms secured to the walls stretching and pulling his painful back. Consciousness slipped from him as the guards left.

The next morning cold water dumped on his head, it ran down his back like stinging ants. He raised his head gasping and cursing, his arms were loosed and he fell on his face. “Get up third strike, it’s time for work.” Two pairs of hands hauled him up and he managed to keep his feet under him and followed the slaves into the hot sun.

Blood ran down his arms and mixed with the dusty soil as he worked. A guard stood over him and more than once clubbed him down when his pace faltered. His eyes followed the row of beans all the way down until it disappeared down a hill. The sun scorched his torn back and when they were allowed for a short water break he fell to the dirt panting hard. A shadow fell over him and he braced for more pain instead gentle hands lifted his head and cool water brushed his lips. He swallowed and pushed himself to his knees so it would be easier to get more. The girl set the bucket down and dipped more water, “Be quick the others are distracting the guards but, if they see we’ll all be punished.” She whispered. Brian stared at her with hazy vision, “Why?” he whispered hoarsely. Camaraderie among slaves was a rare thing and he was suspicious. “Master Zachary has been screaming like a mad man since last night. If we can keep you alive until Rory comes to his senses maybe you can calm him.” She whispered hurriedly. Brian looked at his watery reflection and felt some of the pain lift. The water rippled mesmerizing him, brushes of colors lit up the fringes and he felt himself falling deeper into the water.

Sharp agony ripped him from his daze and he dropped to the dirt again gasping and cursing. A hard boot stepped on his neck and a stinging whip sliced his back even more. His eyes rolled back and he passed out.

Nannette tried not to look at Zack’s door, he had quieted late in the afternoon and her worry had gotten worse with the silence. The silver teacups rattled with her anxiety as she walked to the parlor where Rory was entertaining a business man. The guards opened the double doors and she walked in and curtsied and set the tray down and began to fix them tea while they spoke. “You say you’ve got a slave to sell?” the man asked taking two lumps of sugar on his saucer while she poured. Rory nodded, “A third strike. He’s in the fields now but I think he would best serve in the mines.”

“What do you want for him?” Nannette focused on not spilling the tea, her heart racing. Once the hot liquid was poured she added a dollop of milk to each cup. “Five percent of his working finds.” Rory said. The man sipped his tea and asked for more milk, “Five percent? I’ll have to see him to make sure he’s worth that sort of deal.” Nannette curtsied as she left and breezed down the hallway with dread sitting heavy in her stomach.

Brian struggled to consciousness and then to his knees, someone grabbed his hair and jerked his head back, “I told you to repeat.” The guard snarled. Bright sun whitened his vision, he could feel his heart thudding in his chest and blood running down his back. “Guardian and the seeker.” He whispered. His head was released and sight returned. Dry fields stretched to the stone wall surrounding the property and shadows shifted around him. “What’s going on?” Rory’s grating voice barked. Brian closed his eyes listening to his heart and wishing for the peace the water had brought him. “He’s talking riddles sir. He’s got the slaves spooked.” A guard answered. His head was jerked back again and instead of whiteness the blue of the sky enveloped him. “Speak third strike or the crops will be watered with your blood.” Rory snarled. “Guardian and the seeker.” He mumbled again. He had no idea what he was saying, his tongue acted of its own will and then his vision fuzzed and pulsing pain erupted from his temple and it all went dark again.

“Fate cannot be changed.” The slave whispered. His walnut brown eyes darkened to black and began to bleed into the white. “When the Guardian finds the Seeker the balance will return.” Rory stared at the black sightless eyes and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. He turned to the diamond miner, “You can have him for free. He’ll be waiting for you at sunrise.” He said shoving the slave away from him. “Shackle him again, no one is to speak to him.” He barked at the guards. Two immediately stepped forward and dragged the unconscious slave to the cramped stone house where problem slaves were kept.

He went back to the parlor after the miner had left and found himself too agitated to sit still and began pacing through the house until he wound up in the dining room. Fading sunlight was just touching the sapphire and diamond blade he had on a silver stand. Airn’s blade. He brought it down and turned it over in his hands thinking of that day years ago. Frustrated with being scared so easily by one slave he slammed the blade on the table and went to relax in the bath.

“Master Zachary.” Nannette whispered slipping into the dark room. Zack raised his head from the floor and dropped it again. His body ached horribly from his attacks on the door, his eyes were sore from crying and his throat was raw and scratchy. “Master Zachary you need to get up.” She said kneeling next to him. She looked over her shoulder fearfully before trying to rouse him again. “Zachary, Rory is selling Brian to the diamond mines in the morning. If you ever want to see him again you need to get him now.” Zack’s head jerked up and he looked up at her, “What?” he rasped. Nannette managed to pull him to his knees. “You need to leave tonight Zachary.” She whispered. “I can’t stay long, the guards will notice soon their keys are missing. Brian’s in the field hole. Slip out the kitchen and stay close to the walls and the guards will think you’re only kitchen help.” She slipped something cold and heavy into his hand when he looked he saw Rory’s prized dagger glittering in the moonlight and he stared at her dumbfounded. “I know.” She breathed. “Zachary you can’t stay here any longer, there’s no reason for you to suffer so Rory can show you off to other nobles. Run with Brian. You need to leave Mozaik, right now.” She kissed his forehead and then got to her feet and left as quickly as she had entered. Zack sat on the floor staring at the dagger and then he got to his feet and traded his white tunic for a deep blue one.

He opened the door and peeked into the hallway, finding it clear he slipped out and shut the door behind him. He scampered to the kitchen on silent feet and made it to the back garden without a problem. Along the walls guards talked and gambled by torchlight and he stuck to the shadows under them. The field hole was the furthest stone building from the other field houses and had torches lit. A sign that there was a slave inside and the guards would be watching for people like Zack to rescue him.

A/N: I am so sorry I haven’t been keeping up with this. I promise it will be done soon so I can start on my annual Halloween fiction. Many hugs and much love for your reviews and patience!
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Deicide