Tears Of The Neko - 2. Chapter 2

"Got a new batch to collar?" Arnett greeted him as his carriage pulled up near the stables.

Harrison had directed the driver to not stop in the front and to just take him around to the back with the wagonload of slaves and supplies. There was no point in going in the house first.

"Yes, Damien instructed me to pick up some new ones for the work on the east wing. Most are good for heavy labor and building, but I got a couple females to help with the decorating as well," Harrison stated as he stepped from his coach and walked back to the wagon carrying the slaves.

"Good, good," Jacob Arnett nodded. He eyed the fit, healthy slaves making their way easily out of the wagon, being herded by his son, Rhys, toward the slave's den where they would be outfitted for their collars and fed.

Even though the market always shackled slaves as they were sold, he had no worry of any of them attempting to escape, or even wanting to. Slaves in Marsten were slaves for a reason--either they were hybrids who had no place in society and no desire to live in the wilds, or they were humans who lived in such poverty slavery was preferable. Either way, they were there because they couldn't survive on their own; they relied on their owners for food, shelter and protection.

While occasionally there were slave owners who had had their slaves taken away from them for excessive cruelty, most owners took their ownership of other beings seriously. In return, the slaves respected that their owners would take care of them.

Jacob Arnett had been the slave master for the Duke of Marsten's estate for over twenty years now--having served Damien's father before him. In many ways, Arnett was probably a little too familiar with the three brothers, having known them since they were all very young. Occasionally, Arnett did overstep his station, but he was quick to step back into place with a stern look if he did.

When Damien had taken over the duchy when their parents died suddenly over five years ago, he had changed very little in the way things were run at the manor. The servants and slaves loved working at the Marsten manor because, even though Damien was tough, he was also very fair and expected his subordinates to do the same.

In fact, Jacob found his job rather easy for the most part. He rarely had to deal out any discipline. Five lashes here or there for the occasional rebellious attitude. But usually that and the promise that if it continued they would be turned out and left on their own--with no food or shelter--the slave's attitude changed quickly.

As the last one climbed down, Arnett started to follow the last one to get them settled. "Good choices, sir. I'll go get them collared and fed. I'll send Rhys back to unload those crates of supplies in a few minutes."

"Wait," Harrison frowned, "There should be one more."

He noted that Kayden had not climbed down from the wagon.

"Really?" Arnett peeked in the wagon but didn't see anyone else.

"Yes," Harrison stormed over to the wagon, furious that Farth may have cheated him and not put the boy in with his lot of slaves.

Jacob quickly climbed in the wagon, glancing around. It seemed obvious there wasn't anyone else sitting in there. He turned around in the enclosure with a quick glance and then looked back at Lord Harrison. "I don't see--"

He stopped suddenly seeing movement between the crates of supplies. He laughed as he noticed the tiny creature curled up between the boxes.

He turned to Harrison frowning at him. "What the hell were you thinking, Harrison?" he guffawed. "What am I supposed to do with that little thing?"

The tall blond jumped up into the wagon and spotted the little neko curled up sleeping, his black tail flipping absently and his shackled hands tucked up under his chin.

Harrison grinned. At least he hadn't been left behind. "Guess he got tired on the trip."

Arnett scoffed, his hand falling on his hips. "Really, if he can't even stay awake on the trip here, what use can he really be?"

Harrison laid a hand on the shoulder of the slave master. "Don't worry, Jacob, he's not meant for the work on the east wing. I'm giving him to Damien for his birthday."

At that, Jacob burst out into even louder laughter. "My Lord, you do have a sense of humor."

Harrison grinned wickedly. "I know, right."

"Alright, well, let's get him out of here and fed. What do you want me to do with him then?" Arnett reached absently and tugged the chain to wake the slave.

"No! Wait!" Harrison tried to stop him, knowing the tug on the chain would choke the little feline.

But he was too late, and the boy hissed and gasped as the chain jerked around his neck, cutting into his airway. He tried to right himself and lessen the pressure, but his shackled hands kept him off balance in his sleepy state, and he nearly strangled himself as he fell back over.

"What the hell?" Arnett snapped as he dropped the chain. "Why is he wearing a choke chain?"

"Because Farth is an idiot," Harrison growled, watching the boy push back up now that the chain had loosened its hold on his neck.

The green eyes looked up at the two men from under a curtain of black hair as he knelt at their feet.

"Get up, Kayden," Harrison ordered. "Master Arnett here is going to fit you with a new collar."

Warily, the boy moved to a crouch, looking almost like he was going to bound away before he rose fluidly to his feet. When Harrison moved to exit the wagon, he followed obediently behind the man.

Jacob took the boy by the arm instead of the leash. "Since he's for Master Damien, do you want his collar stamped with the master's personal mark?"

The blond nodded. "Yes, a nice soft leather collar with silver markings would look good, I think. When you're done, keep him there until I come get him. I want to keep him hidden from Damien until his birthday celebration."

Jacob chuckled at the young count. "I can't wait to see his reaction to this gift. You are very brave, Harrison. You know he's going to kill you for this."

The tall Count laughed and petted the fine hair of the neko. "I suspect he will have a few words to say."

--Neko--@@@

"Well, well, Roman," Harrison greeted as he shed his jacket. He hated wearing the ostentatious thing, but knew he need to look his part when he was out and about. "Are you finally rolling out of bed?"

His second eldest brother looked hungover as he sat in the dining room, loading his plate with cold cuts and fruit. He knew the dark haired young man had been out late at a soiree at the Countess Priscella's home. His brown hair still seemed a bit mussed from sleep, his hazel eyes bloodshot.

"Shut up, Harry," Roman growled. "I have a hard job keeping up with the political alliances and cliques among our contemporaries. I guarantee that Damien couldn't make the connections that I do each night."

"I see, drinking and carousing all night must be difficult."

"It is, my dear brother, it is!" Roman grinned as he downed a glass of water.

"So where is Damien this afternoon?" Harrison gathered together some cold cuts to make a sandwich.

"He's been holed up in his study with the attorneys all morning. It seems like he's getting bitchier and bitchier, never taking a fucking break. Maybe he should just let me take over and he'd have more time to enjoy himself," the Marquis grinned, chomping on a carrot stick.

Harrison snorted. "Yeah, okay. You know that's not going to happen."

Roman shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe it will. You know he'd be more relaxed if he just let go."

"Probably," Harrison agreed, "But you know he feels it's his duty. He's not going to burden you with all that responsibility."

Roman eyed his younger brother. "And if I'm willing to take it on? You know, so Damien can have a life again."

Harrison chuckled. "He can have a life. He just chooses not to."

Roman huffed, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"So where is Damien, anyway?" Harrison finished slapping together the parts of his sandwich.

"I think that the attorneys just left a few minutes ago, and that Damien headed out to shoot skeet."

"Shit," Harrison cursed, taking a bite of his sandwich before plopping it back down and heading toward the kitchen door.

"What?" Roman jumped up after him, following.

He hadn't expected Damien to go out and just hoped that he didn't decide to go by the slave quarters. Fortunately, the skeet shoot was not near the slave quarters, so it was unlikely that his brother had seen the new slaves.

"The new slaves are here," Harrison stated. "Arnett is collaring and feeding them."

"And... Damien isn't allowed to see the new slaves you got? What did you get--a whole bunch of whores?" Roman joked, as they stalked past the kitchen staff to the back exit.

Harrison shot his brother a condescending glare. "No, but I did get one for his birthday and I don't want him to know."

The tall, handsome Marquis scoffed. "You bought him a personal slave? Have you lost your mind?"

"Well, more like a companion," Harrison stated.

"Ooh, you got him whore, even better!" Roman laughed.

"He's not a whore," Harrison snapped.

"He?"

"Yes, it's a male neko," the blond stated as they made their way closer to the slave den. Rhys, Arnett's son, had several of the slaves gathered in the outdoor exercise yard. Some of the newly collared ones were there as well.

"Ooh, is it that one?" Roman asked, pointing to a tall, broad feline hybrid with a long burnt orange tail and brassy hair and ears.

"No."

A loud blast erupted in the air as they heard the shotgun fire and the splintering of a skeet plate.

"Fuck!" they heard Arnett shout from the other side of the building. As they exchanged quick looks, they darted towards the cursing slave master.

"Almost had him too," Arnett growled as he paced by the tree in the yard, talking to himself. "I'm gonna whip his ass so hard...."

"What's wrong, Jake?" Roman scanned around the slave yard but didn't see anything amiss.

Arnett turned a glaring eye on Harrison, not caring at the moment how insubordinate he might seem. "Now I know why he had the choke collar on."

"What?" Harrison frowned.

Arnett pointed to the tree. Perched halfway up the oak was the little neko, clutching the branches.

"What the hell?" Roman squinted at the little figure. "Is that a slave?"

"Oh, shit," Harrison breathed. He could see Kayden hugging the tree, shaking, eyes squeezed shut.

"Yes, it's a slave," Jacob growled in frustration, then added quickly, "sir," before the marquis noticed--while Harrison and Damien didn't care how informal he might be, Roman would.

"Did he think he could escape by climbing a tree?" Roman stared in shock. He'd never seen a neko slave climb a tree before, even if they were feline in nature. Usually they were too big and cumbersome to bother.

"No, sir, I was changing his collar, and then his Grace started shoot the fucking skeet, and the little brat startled and ran up the damn tree," Arnett snapped, too angry at the moment to check his tone with the young lords. "He's so skittish, he needs to be chained or leashed to keep him from running off."

Roman started laughing loudly, too amused to care about the slave master's tone, and slowly Arnett joined him, realizing just how crazy the situation was.

"Tell me, brother, is that the birthday present?" Roman gasped between breathless laughter.

"Yeah," Harrison grinned, glancing up at the little neko, who had opened his eyes and was peering down at them now. "What do you think?"

"Oh, yeah, Damien's just gonna love you."

"Every time I get him to start down, his Grace blasts another skeet plate and he scampers back up," Arnett sighed.

Roman could barely breathe, he was laughing so hard. "Jesus, Harry, what were you thinking with that thing?"

"Kayden!" Harrison called up to the boy. "Come on down here!"

When he saw that the ebony haired boy had moved and started down the tree again, he turned to his brother. "I thought maybe he might make Damien lighten up a bit. If nothing else, it will be a great laugh on his birthday when he sees the boy."

"If he doesn't kill it first," Roman joked, as they watched the boy deftly making his way down.

Arnett moved closer to grab the boy as soon as he was down, but another shotgun blast sent the boy skittering back up.

"Shit!" Arnett cursed.

"No!" Harrison shouted at the same time.

Roman just started laughing even harder.

"Kayden, get down here now!" Harrison yelled, getting frustrated as well. If this kept up, Damien was sure to see him when he came back up towards the house and wondered what the commotion was in the slave yard.

"I don't know," Roman waved, "I say leave him there. He'll come down eventually or starve."

Harrison just glared at his older brother who apparently found the whole situation amusing. Then he turned back to the boy clutching the tree. "Kayden! Get down here right now or you're going to be punished!" he yelled out of frustration.

All three men gasped as the little feline practically dropped out of the tree in a couple of well placed leaps. In the next minute, he was crouched at their feet, shaking in fear, ready to dart.

Arnett quickly grabbed the thin arm of the boy and dragged him to the nearby work bench where he had the collars and his tools laid out.

"My lord, can you hold him for a second?" Arnett requested, instinctively taking a slightly more deferential tone with Roman who demanded it more often than the other two brothers.

"Gladly," Roman grinned, looming over the small creature. His fingers gripped the thin bicep. "He's kinda cute, Harry. I wouldn't mind having one of these myself. Hey, if Damien doesn't want him--"

Arnett turned to the table to get the collar and lock as another shot echoed over the hills. The neko jerked violently in Roman's hold.

"Fuck!" Roman cursed, almost letting go of the thin arm when claws scraped across his forearm, drawing blood. Anger flared across the man's face as he righted the boy struggling in his hands. A flash of hate spiked in the marquis's eyes at the thought of being attacked by a slave. "Son-of-a-bitch!"

He suddenly backhanded the neko across the side of the head, eliciting a squeak of pain as the boy dropped to the ground. Arnett reacted quickly and placed his booted foot across the neck of the slave before he could escape again.

"My lord! Are you okay?" Jacob exclaimed.

"Roman!" Harrison jumped forward, at the sudden outburst of anger by his brother.

"I'm fine," the sandy-haired nobleman growled, glaring down at the tiny ebony-haired slave. He dabbed at his arm. "The brat attacked me!"

"I think it was an accident," Harrison mumbled back, while Arnett straddled the boy's hips to keep him in place. He could feel the harsh breathing of the boy's lungs under him.

"Give me the collar and lock, sir," Jacob demanded of the younger brother, heedless of the formalities of rank. After Harrison tossed him the collar, he quickly strapped on the leather collar with a silver tag, locking it in place. He snapped the leash in place on the silver ring and stood up before the next shot rang out.

Fortunately, Arnett had a hold of the chain this time, so when Kayden darted at the loud blast, he didn't get far, snapping to the end of the chain and falling to the dirt again. When escaping from the open area didn't work, he scampered under the table.

Roman glared at his younger brother, then looked at the exhausted slave master. "I don't know, Arnett. I think this one's not worth it, he's too unpredictable. Maybe we should just put him down."

Arnett froze and glanced at Harrison, whose eyes had clouded with uncertainty as to whether he should give up his birthday plan. He looked up in surprise at his older brother's statement.

"My Lord?" Jacob looked to the younger noble for instruction, who was silently studying the shivering figure who was looking at him with bright green eyes from under the curtain of ebony.

Roman's eyes darkened at having his authority questioned when the slave master looked to his younger brother. "You do realize my orders outrank my brother's, Arnett."

Jacob straightened suddenly, worried about having angered his lordship and overstepping his bounds. "Of course, sir."

"But this one is mine," Harrison snapped back. "He's not one of the general household slaves."

"He's still a slave," Roman argued, rubbing his arm. "And dangerous."

"Bullshit, Roman," his brother spit. "He's just scared at the moment. And he's my gift to Damien. I'll not let you destroy him before I give him to Damien. If Damien doesn't want him after that, then we'll see."

The tall noble glared down at the neko, whose ears drooped back. The thin creature slowly slinked toward Roman's feet submissively, while Arnett kept a tight hold of his leash. The neko rose slowly into a low crouch before leaning in.

Roman eyed the feline warily and was shocked when tiny hands grabbed his arm and a moist tongue slid over the scratches. He jumped back, shoving the boy away from him.

"What the fuck?!" Roman sputtered, wiping furiously at his arm as the boy stumbled then fell to his knees, dropping his head to the ground. "How dare you touch me without permission?!"

Arnett started laughing, and Harrison held back a chuckle behind his hand.

"Sorry, my lord," Jacob apologized, sobering quickly in the face of the marquis's wrath. "It's just their way of cleaning. He's basically saying he's sorry and trying to help you with the wound."

Roman scowled.

Arnett cleared his throat and resumed his stern stance. "Would you like him punished, sir? Or..." he paused, not wanting to remind the Marquis of his demand to kill the boy.

"Roman," Harrison nearly begged for the neko's life, but he knew his brother needed to feel in control, powerful.

"Fine. You can keep him for now, Harrison. But he stays locked up. And if there's any more trouble from him, I'll make sure he regrets it."

He turned and started to stomp back to the main house. He paused, turned and smiled. "Oh, and it sounds like Damien is done shooting, so you might want to hurry up and hide your little present."

Harrison cursed under his breath as he realized they hadn't heard any more shots being fired. That meant Damien would be returning to the house soon and he ran the risk that his brother might see the neko.

"Good luck with this one, my lord," Arnett laughed, tugging the neko up to his feet, relaxing now that the Marquis had made his departure.

"He's just a little scared right now," the Count grinned. "He'll settle down soon. Let me get him inside and cleaned up."

Jacob handed over the leash, smiling at the easy-going young man. "Keep a hold of that. I would recommend locking the chain, so he doesn't dart off again."

--Neko--

"That was good shooting, my lord."

The tall, dark Duke grunted at the Captain of his guard as he handed over the reins of his beautiful black stallion to the stable groom.

"Maybe you need to go for a run too, my lord," Captain Brenner teased, sensing the tension in his master. "Or we could arrange a little sparring match?"

Damien glared at his guard. The man followed him anytime he left the immediate vicinity of the manor house, and Damien trusted him with his life. But the man could be annoying too.

"Geoff, you really don't want to offer me the opportunity to beat the crap out of you right now," Damien warned. The meeting with the solicitors for the northern plantation had not gone well, and he was in no mood to play nice. Not that he usually was anyway.

Geoff Brenner grinned, slapping his lord on the back. He was well versed in all of Damien's moods, and today the man was in a particularly dark one.

"Well, then, maybe I'll just come with you and grab something to eat," the captain cajoled, knowing that the Duke was probably looking to get rid of him--but the captain hated to see his lord so alone all the time.

Damien just glared at him and set off at a quicker pace, silently cursing the man and his need to not let Damien be alone. He was glad when Geoff took the hint and kept his pace a few feet back.

Damien just rubbed his hands through his rich black hair, trying to find some tiny bit of the peace and complacency he'd had before their parents had been killed. It had been years since he'd felt any measure of true leisure and contentment. Since his father's passing, he worried constantly over making life easier for his brothers and fulfilling his duty to his uncle, the king.

Today, he'd been frustrated with work that had stalled on one of the plantations and had needed a break. And a release of his frustrations. Skeet and riding on Jester were his most common outlets. Sometimes he enjoyed running or swimming in the lake as well, but he knew Captain Brenner loved a good ride better, and since the captain of his guard insisted on going with him whenever he ventured too far from the manor house, he tended to defer to something they'd both enjoy.

On his way back from skeet shooting, he figured he'd stop by the slave barracks. He knew Harrison was supposed to pick up more help for work on the East wing, so he detoured by the slave den and was surprised by how flustered the slave master appeared. Jacob Arnett didn't usually get wound up over much of anything. Most of the slaves behaved well, enjoying the freedom of not having to worry about where their next meal would come from or if they would be warm that night.

So it was rare that Arnett had to deal with any problems. At most, it might be a couple of lashes for fighting with other slaves or servants, or maybe a slave who had stolen items. Since slaves could request their freedom after a year of servitude, they didn't usually have to worry about runaway slaves, unless they were stealing in the process. Slaves that ran away without asking for their freedom were usually tracked down, checked for stolen items, and their collar removed before they were imprisoned for theft.

In their society, the slave collar offered many protections--food, shelter, clothing--but it also told people outside the estate (should a slave be sent on errands off the manor) that the slave was acting on behalf of his master. If the slave requested items from the tailor or baker, or such, the collar acted like payment as the business man would know who to send the charge to. So occasionally, a slave might try to runaway after being collared in an attempt use the collar to get items for free and had to be tracked down.

Damien looked over the new batch of slaves that Arnett's son, Rhys, was handing bowls of food to. They were all strong and well-built, perfectly suited for finishing the construction on the East Wing. Maybe some of them would want to train for guard duty with Captain Brenner when they completed work on the East Wing. He noted even the three females looked nice and hardy and fit. He was sure several of them would probably continue their service by working the kitchens and as staff of the East Wing as well. He nodded his approval of Harrison's choices, knowing that pretty much any slave from the market should be acceptable anyway.

The hybrids were especially well suited to helping with the building. Often the males were stronger than their human counterparts and were more agile, which made them perfect carpenters.

Damien mused how easily the hybrids had become a part of their society. While no one knew exactly how they had been created, there was speculation that an old seer had been experimenting, wanting his beloved cat to live as long as a human did, so he wouldn't have to live without him. The result had been the first neko--or so the legends said. Damien still wasn't sure if he believed the old tale, but nonetheless, the feline hybrids were part of their society.

For hundreds of years, humans didn't know much about the hybrids living in the mountains and forests, but as forests were cut down and human towns encroached on their habitat, the nekos had eventually been forced into the human territory. At first, they were greeted with fear and anxiety by the humans, as most unknowns are, but their generally pleasant demeanor and non-aggressiveness eventually won the hearts and minds of the human-dominated society.

Humans and hybrids lived together in the towns and cities in pretty much harmony. Just like any human, some developed trades and business, although Damien still had yet to see any reach nobility status. But just like humans, the hybrids could also choose to become a slave if they were unable or, in some cases, unwilling, to survive on their own without a master.

And so it was that Damien was standing over the mix of freshly collared human and hybrid slaves, introducing himself to them. Even though he knew he might not see many of them very much, since Harrison and Roman were overseeing the construction of the East wing, it didn't hurt for them to be able to recognize the master of the estate.

Strangely, he realized, as he looked over the group, there weren't that many hybrids that worked in his actual house. He knew there was the one brown-haired one that he saw occasionally, but most of the servants inside the house were human. Huh, he briefly wondered why Roman had distributed the slaves that way, since Roman and Harrison usually dealt with that part of managing the household.

Well, he did know that Garin, his head chef, refused to have them in the kitchen--something about fur shedding from tails and some such stuff. But other than when extra servants and slaves were needed for things like large parties, he didn't usually see them in the house. He wondered why this suddenly struck him as odd. Perhaps it was seeing the cluster of so many happily eating their first meal here.

"Good day, sir," Arnett greeted, looking a little sweaty and flushed. He straightened in the presence of his formidable lord. The Duke was massive, bigger than both of his brothers, and the permanent scowl that seemed to reside on the master's face made him seem even more imposing.

"How are things going, Jacob?" Damien greeted congenially, aware that Geoff still hovered behind him.

Arnett was nodding quickly, averting his eyes and then looking over at the new slaves. "Fine, just fine."

"Any problems?" Damien asked, although he would be surprised if there had been.

"No, no, no," Arnett said a little too quickly. He waved at the happy group of slaves, talking and chattering while they ate and drank their fill. "They've all been collared with the Whitmore Manor mark. And I'll get them over to the east side soon. We're going to just let them reside over there now that the kitchen is somewhat functional. So we'll take several sets of clothes, bedding and such when we head over."

Damien nodded, "Good." He paused. "Are any of them slated for work in the main house?"

Arnett visibly startled. "What?"

Damien frowned. "Are any of them coming to the main house? I can walk them there myself."

"Oh, oh, no," Arnett waved. "Harrison said they were all for the east wing. Although we will probably pull several of them to work at your birthday party."

Damien grimaced at the reminder of his party. He started to turn away and head back up to the main house, but then paused and asked the question that had flitted across his mind. "Arnett, why aren't there more hybrids working in the main house?"

Arnett's brows shot up in surprise at the question. "Well, most prefer to work outside, sir," Arnett said simply. He had assumed his master knew that. "When we can, we offer the slaves an option on what type of work they'd prefer, and most hybrids prefer to have access to the outside, so they tend to be in the fields. I think Ellis is one of the few who chose to be exclusively a house slave."

"Ah," Damien nodded. "That makes sense then."

Geoff laughed slightly at the Whitmore duke. "You are almost twenty-five years old, sir. You run at least four plantations and two ports, but you don't know about your own house?"

Damien grumped at his guard captain. "I leave Roman and Harrison to that," he grumbled. "I guess I just never really thought about it much."

"I see," Geoff grinned.

"Maybe when the east wing is finished some of them might be willing to put up with you in guard training," Damien snarked back to his guard and one of the few men he'd actually probably call a friend.

"They would probably enjoy that," Arnett stated. Then he turned back to the group of slaves, getting ready to move them along. He watched as Damien and his guard headed toward the kitchen door. He hoped that Harrison had had the time to hide his little surprise.