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    JMH
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Guild Book I - 4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

 

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The hierarchy of the Guild is long in history and complexity. The lowest rank being the clay masked servants… no more than slaves taken from worlds governed by the Assembly and the Guild. Next are the wood masked free men and woman, artisans and farmers. There are men who wear the iron masks of the Legions… the armed forces of the Assembly lead by the Star Generals in steel. There are the minor nobility in masks of copper, Protectors in bronze, the Guild Mistresses in silver and the Assemblymen in gold. Above them are the jeweled masked High Ambassadors, diamond, ruby, emerald, and sapphire… rulers of the four quadrants of space. Finally there is the Prelate… leader of both Assembly and Guild, master of sky and void, the man of the obsidian mask.

 

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Twenty years later:

 

As far as Joshua was aware he had been born a slave of Wor and would die one. For all twenty years of his life there had been war in the skies between Wor and the Guild and Wor with itself. Since the day the old kingdom had fallen, the planet had been divided up into rival factions. Old Prime Minister Toran, saw himself as the rightful king, ruled only a weak alliance in the eastern hemisphere. To the south the dukes, controlling most of the worlds industrial output, claimed an alliance with the Guild, while in the west there were the free states, free only in the sense that they had yet to pick a side.

 

It was in mines of the free Barony of Dralor that Joshua had grown up serving first as a water boy to his fellow slaves and later as a miner himself, digging coal out of the mountains. Such work had made him large and strong but as pale as a ghost.

 

Like most workers in the mine… he was a silent fellow, not wanting to attract the attention of the foreman and his whip. That was how the Baron Prince Thomas, the son of the present baron, found him, silent, his skin a mix of black and white streaks. “Slave?”

 

Joshua, obedient, stopped his digging and turned to face the richly dressed man. “Yes my lord?” He asked with a bow, guessing rightly by the glint of gold from the light of the torches that he was a noble.

 

“Come here.” Thomas said cheerfully.

 

Walking slowly, his head hanging low, Joshua walked over to till he was just out of arms reach.

 

Laughing Thomas walked over the rest of the distance and took hold of Joshua’s massive left bicep with a glove hand. “You are strong… I like that.”

 

From there Thomas continued to examine the young man… a man who so happened to have been born on the same day at the same hour he had been, but neither knew that, nor the importance of such a fact. Still, ever since catching eye of Joshua three days ago, Thomas had been persistent in finding him. Now that he was before Joshua, Thomas felt as if a missing piece of his life had been filled.

 

“So what is your name?” Thomas asked once he was done with his examination.

 

“Joshua my lord,” he bowed.

 

“Well Joshua… today is your lucky day. Do you know why?”

 

“No my lord but if you say it is so it must be.”

 

“I have just bought you… no more mines for you my friend. It is now only sun shine, clean water, and my wonderful company from now forth.”

 

“As you wish my lord.” Joshua said in the same flat voice he always used.

 

Thomas was disappointed in the lack of enthusiasm. “You could say thank you.”

 

“Thank you my lord.” Joshua quickly bowed.

 

“Come now.” Thomas said as he attempted to wrap an arm around the broad man’s shoulders only to watch him cringe. “What’s wrong?”

 

“Forgive me my lord.” Joshua said, going down to one knee.

 

It was only then that Thomas got a good look at the young man’s back, finding it a mass of scars… marks of Joshua daily punishment for crimes he did not understand.

 

“Joshua… I will not hurt you… I promise.” Thomas swore as he worked off his gold thread coat and put it over the man’s shoulders before taking Joshua’s large hand in his.

 

It was not until they arrived at the gate that they were stopped by the mine foreman, his bloody whip in hand. Thomas did not need to ask to know that this man had been Joshua’s tormentor for he could feel Joshua’s hand shaking in his own.

 

“What is going on here?” The foreman bellowed before he recognized the face of the prince baron.

 

“I have come to pick up a new servant for my father’s house… stand aside.”

 

“My lord you are free to chose any man or woman here… but not this one. Not him!” The foreman insisted.

 

“And why not?” Thomas demanded. It was not that Thomas was not used to being told what he could or could not do for his father ran a strict household. It was that the foreman himself, having once been a slave, dared to tell him so.

 

“This man is traitor’s spawn.” The foreman said as he lifted up Joshua right arm to show the mark of a smiling mask branded into his side. “The child of Lady Estelle herself if I remember correctly.”

 

“The child of Estelle… the traitor!” Thomas said shocked. He had never known his fathers’ lands had such an infamous man.

 

“Yes… which makes this brat a Guild half-breed. So please my lord… please select another. This man does not deserve your kindness.”

 

Looking back at Joshua, Thomas finally noticed the white on white eyes… a sign that he indeed had Guild blood. It then suddenly hit Thomas the tragedy of Joshua’s life. He was not a slave like most men and women in the mines… who were either criminals or indebted servants, all of them adults. Joshua had been a slave by birth… never given a chance, until now.

 

Thomas gave the foreman a harsh look, his voice deepening. “Joshua will be coming home with me.”

 

“Not if I…” The foreman tried to protest but was stopped when a firm hand grabbed his throat.

 

“My lord is there a problem?” A middle aged man who was Thomas’ tutor and bodyguard asked as he squeezed harder on the man’s throat.

 

“I found the man I was looking for but…”

 

“But he is the son of Estelle the traitor. Do not worry my lord. I shall take care of this.”

 

“Thank you Gerick.” Thomas said as he took Joshua’s hand and led him past the mine’s guards.

 

Once the young lord was gone, Gerick turned his attention back on the foreman. “Now what am I to do with you?”

 

“Forgive me my lord. I was only doing what I was told. Prime minister…”

 

“Prime Minister Toran does not rule here even though he fashions himself as a king!”

 

“But my lord…”

 

Letting go of the foreman, Gerick took out a knife and played with it while he paced around. “How many people know that Estelle son is here?”

 

“Only the prime minister and myself my lord.”

 

“That is what I suspected.” Gerick said just before he slit the man’s throat.

 

The two guards at the mine gate did not move at all at first and when they did, they did not move quickly.

 

“Stand done.” Gerick ordered as he took out the baron’s gold seal.

 

As the bearer of the seal spoke with the power of the Baron himself, both guards went down on their knees.

 

“For the crime of withholding secrets from his liege lord, I have dealt the Baron’s justice on this man. His property is here by confiscated.” Gerick declared as he cleaned his blade before sheathing it, making his way out of the gate.

 

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Joshua, following his new master was led to a small three person airship where he and Thomas waited for Gerick to join them.

 

“Did you kill him?” Thomas asked with fear in his voice when his bodyguard did appear.

 

“Yes my lord.”

 

Thomas let out a deep sigh before replying. “Very well, take us home then.”

 

Gerick then seated himself down at the pilot seat and took hold of the controls, lifting the box shaped airship into the darkening sky.

 

By the time the ship landed at the Baron’s castle, night had fallen, Thomas, his gloved hand having never leaving Joshua’s took him out of the ship and up to the front doors of the castle, where there was a large fountain.

 

“My lord… may I recommend you bathe your new slave before letting him in the castle.” Gerick suggested, pointing to the trail of black footprints that followed Joshua.

 

“You’re right… mother would kill me if we ruined her carpets.” Thomas agreed.

 

“I will go ahead of you and bring down a change of clothes.” Gerick said before leaving the two young men alone.

 

“Well you heard him…” Thomas grinned as he began stripping down, leaving a trail of clothes toward the large fountain.

 

As Joshua only had a black soiled loin cloth, he was naked well before Thomas was even half undressed. Still however he did not enter the water until Thomas went in first.

 

Thomas looked over his slave with concern on his face. Something had led him to Joshua… some invisible hand but now that he had found him, Thomas did not know what else he was to do… it was as if he were still waiting for something… something else to happen. He felt sure Gerick knew what it was but he had not said anything other then offer encouragement to pursue his feelings.

 

They did not touch each other once while they bathed in the cool water but their eyes never broke contact. Thomas felt something was happening, as did Joshua.

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As far as he was aware, Vard had lived his entire life on a dark world… a world denied the technological light of the Guild but he did not care… for on Santor the Guild was only remembered in legends… evil sorcerers who had once enslaved the people. The sorcerers were long gone… so was the nation state of Santor. Where there had once been one nation there were now hundreds of tiny kingdoms, no larger then what a man could travel in three days on horse. It was a world of clans, tribes, and a vast wilderness of ruined cities where no people dare live.

 

Vard, even though he had been a foundling, had risen high in the wolf clan as their best hunter and warrior. Some people felt that Vard should not try to reach so high. Some people felt that Vard should have been happy being part of the chieftain’s band of warriors. But Vard understood how the world worked… he with the power was destined to rule and Vard was indeed powerful. That was why today he would challenge his own chief.

 

It was not just his skill with the sword that men respected… it was also his voice. During many raids on rival clans Vard’ words had given men the courage needed for victory. In addition to his charisma he was also very intelligent. Before he had become chieftain’s war master, the clan would fight and steal from the other clans until all were dead. Under Vard guidance and suggestion however the needless bloodshed had ended replaced with a system of tribute. So now, even while the wolf clan still wandered the plains of the north… it control lands vaster than most kingdoms.

 

It was Vard success however that had poisoned the relationship between Vard and his chief. The chieftain’s greed and growing resentment of his war master had filled the man with hatred for one he once saw as a son. As a result, the clan… once united by the alliance between the chief Grey Wolf and Vard were now divided between those who resented the outsider and those who saw Vard as their future.

 

So, after a heated argument over how much to increase their demands of tribute, Vard had snapped his spear of and cast it into the fire… a clear statement that the friendship between him and Grey Wolf was over, send the camp to whisper. Today as Vard approached the tent of the clan chief he planned to end all the whispers forever.

 

He only regretted that other’s had to die. Besides killing Gray Wolf, there had been the four men guarding the chieftain’s tent. Three of them were Gray Wolf’s own sons whom had been Vard’s childhood friends. There were the six elders who had ever reminded Vard that he was not of the tribe and took pleasure in reminding him that he could never become leader of the wolf clan. Finally there had been the witch woman who had called Vard a demon because of his solid black eyes. Killing them all would only confirm the people’s suspicion that he was a demon but it was the only way to silence all the voices that were against him.

This series is an original creation of my sole making. All rights reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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