A Hawke in Flight
Chapter 1: Slaves to Fate
The slave markets of Minrathous were huge, crowded, and the smell that lingered in the air was a mixture of sweat and lost hope. The guards encircling them glared at the beggars and servants who passed, warning everyone not to get too close to the Magister and his apprentice. Stopping a few feet in front of the guards, the agent who had been assigned to assist them tugged at his collar, waiting for them to notice him and worried that if they didn't, he might have to jump out of the way before they knocked him down. He needn't have worried, the guards stopped less than a foot in front of him, their eyes still roving the crowds, ever vigilant for an attack. Even the Archon himself had enemies in Minrathous and Magister Avitus had more than most.
At a gesture from the man in the center, the front guards moved aside, allowing the agent to step forward, albeit hesitantly. "Your lordship." Sweeping the hat from his head, the man bowed low, not daring to look up until the Magister finally acknowledged him. The figure before him was covered in black armor and robes, leading the agent to wonder how the Magister could abide the summer heat until the man took a small step towards him and he felt a subtle chill in the air.
"I was promised a look at your master's finest goods. You will fulfill this promise now, or I shall take my business elsewhere." The voice was quiet and controlled, but still managed to convey an underlying sense of menace.
"Of course, your lordship. It would be my greatest pleasure. If you and your apprentice will follow me…"
"Son."
"Wha… what, your Lordship?"
"My son, not my apprentice. And the slave we have come to purchase is for him, isn't that right, Gavinus?" The Magister turned to look at the young man standing at his side. Almost as tall as his father, even at only 16 years of age, he had the body of a scout or a warrior, not that of a mage. Ebony black hair was neatly trimmed and his eyes were a vivid blue-green, like the sea on a clear day. The agent knew that a lack of magic in the boy could explain the Magister's insistence on the proper relationship.
"Yes, father." Gavinus's eyes stayed trained on his father's face, even though he couldn't see most of it under the dragon-shaped mask the older man wore.
"And what kind of slave would you like, Gavinus? A pretty young female to warm your bed and clean your room? Or a strong back to shield you from danger?" The magister returned his son's stare.
Gavinus froze, his mind trying to decipher what answer his father wanted to hear. Every question the man asked was a trap of some kind and failure meant punishment, if not for himself, then for someone he cared about. He knew that this new slave was meant to be just that, another way to hurt him, another means of control. He tried a neutral response, hoping to get more time to solve this latest puzzle. "I will have to see the slaves first, father, before I can decide. To accept goods without testing their worth would be a waste of your time and money."
When his father finally nodded and turned back to the slaver, Gavinus did his best not to sigh in relief. He knew it was only a temporary reprieve.
Moving on through the crowds, the small group eventually came to one of the wealthier warehouses, the doors of which opened at a subtle gesture from the agent. The guards who held the doors closed them just as quickly once the group was inside. Gavinus wondered if this might be a trap, and as he felt a brief flare of magic from the armored mage next to him, he knew that he was not the only suspicious one.
The inside of the building did not match its exterior, looking more like a wealthy brothel than a warehouse. They both sell flesh. Without considering his actions, Gavinus mentally counted exactly how many doors they passed in the carpeted hallway before the slaver opened a door and gestured them inside. His father's guards arranged themselves in the back of the small room, leaving the two potential buyers to sit in the velvet covered seats in the center. Gavinus stood next to his father's side, not taking the second seat until the older man's gaze flicked between him and the chair. Never assume permission. Another lesson he had learned well.
Once they were both seated, the procession of slaves began. There was a small stage in front of their seats, well-lit and raised just enough to give them a good view of their potential purchase. Two very young elven females were the first to be brought out and the Magister was quick to reject them before Gavinus had even gotten a good look at them. "Don't waste my time, slaver. We came seeking quality, not something you dragged in from the street."
After a deep bow and profuse apologies from the agent, a different slave was brought out. Another female. Father must want to see my reaction. She was pretty enough, but so slight he doubted she would live through her first beating. I need a slave that I don't care about. Someone who will survive more than a night or two. Keeping his face as blank as possible, Gavinus gave no response. His father lifted a hand and gestured, and the slave was taken away.
After repeating this for the next twenty minutes, as one attractive female after another was paraded in front of them, the magister finally turned to stare at his son. "Is there something wrong with the slaves, Gavinus?"
"No, father."
"Then why aren't you showing any interest. This was meant to be a reward. Or was I mistaken? Are you not interested in having your own slave?"
The quiet conversation did not escape the notice of the slaver and the fact that he might be losing a potentially lucrative deal made him do something he normally wouldn't. He interrupted the conversation. "Perhaps your son would prefer to see some of the… males?"
Magister Avitus leaned closer to his son, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. "Well… is he right?"
His father's eyes had narrowed behind the mask and Gavinus knew that he had to be very careful with his response. He swallowed, allowing his father to think he was nervous about answering and the bright blue eyes behind the mask narrowed even more. Now to lay the trap. "Yes, Father. I think I'd prefer to see… other slaves."
The Magister sat up in the chair abruptly, turning back to the slaver and gesturing for him to proceed. Gavinus knew that under the mask, his father was smiling, thinking that he had found out one of his son's secrets. Let him think he knows who I am, it will never be true. Turning his own attention back to the stage, Gavinus knew he would have to be careful who he pretended to show an interest in. It also did not escape him that he might have to do more than just pretend interest if his father was watching too closely.
The first few males they brought were all elves, as expected. There were also almost as small as the females. One of them clearly had been made up to look as feminine as possible. When his father turned his head to look as his son, Gavinus shook his head. "Someone sturdier." Let his father take that as he would, better to get someone who might even survive long enough to help him. The next man was not an elf, but a human. Better, but still too slight of build. Leaning forward in his chair to get a better look, he didn't wait for his father to give the signal, simply shaking his head at the slaver, who nodded and sent the man out.
The next slave was an elf again, but not the same as the others. The first thing that caught Gavinus's attention was his height. He had never seen an elf that tall before. He suspected that the elf could almost look him in the eye if they stood next to each other. The second thing that he noticed was that unlike the other slaves, this one had been stripped to the waist, his arms bound tightly together in front of him. The muscles of his arms and torso were long and well-defined, hinting at a greater strength than one might expect from an elf.
But the thing that held his attention the most were the eyes. He couldn't tell exactly what color they were from this distance, but they were pale. More importantly, when the elf raised his head to look at them, peering out from under pitch black hair that had fallen in his face, the look he gave them was not the look of a broken man. It was a look of hatred. It was a look of death.
Gavinus sucked in his breath before he could stop the reaction and he knew that his father had noticed. He might as well make the best of it. "That one."
Never one to simply let his son have what he wanted without sacrificing something first, his father prodded him for more information. "Really? Why? What is it about him that catches your… interest?"
Gavinus kept his eyes on the elf this time, not turning to look at this father. Tilting his head to the side, Gavinus considered how he could explain it without giving away too much. "He looks… wild. Untamed."
"I… see." His father didn't see and never would, but telling him so was something that would never happen.
The agent stepped closer to their chairs, his hands rubbing together in a nervous gesture. "I should warn you that this one has shown problems responding to discipline. His last owner suffered injuries. Are you still sure you want this one?"
Gavinus stood up from the chair and took a step towards the slaver, looking down at the man. He allowed the faintest hint of magic to move inside him and a flame danced across his now upturned palm. "I said that one."
The slaver took a step back from the young man. So the boy was a mage after all. He looked from the young mage to the Magister, unsure who to obey. A chuckle came from behind the mask and the Magister nodded.
When the slaver began to talk to his father about price, Gavinus moved closer to the stage, hoping to get a better look at the elf. He was truly curious what color the man's eyes were and the elf's head had dropped again after that one look. He noted the flexing of the muscles in the slave's arms as he strained at the ties binding his hands together. This close, he could see that the binding was too tight and likely hurting the man. Stepping closer than he probably should have, Gavinus knew the guards would be watching him closely. He kept his voice as low as possible to prevent his father from hearing his words. "I will release you from the ties if you promise not to attack."
"Why should I trust you, mage?" The man's voice was deeper than Gavinus had expected and his gaze was still on the floor.
"Because I am telling the truth, and because you will be safer with me than with anyone else in my father's household." The elf's head snapped up at his last comment and his curiosity was finally satisfied. Green. His eyes are green.
"Release me today and I will not attack you… today."
"Fair enough." Gavinus pulled a dagger from his belt and sliced the ties quickly, before the slaver or his father could react. "What is your name?"
The green eyes narrowed and then the slave's gaze dropped again. "Whatever you choose to call me, master." It was interesting how a word that should hold respect could sound so dismissive.
"Very well, then. If you don't want to share your true name, I shall call you what seems most fitting. Wild. Ferus." He waited to see what the elf's reaction would be, but got nothing more than a shrug. "Don't you want to know my name?" Another shrug. After standing there watching Ferus for a moment, the elf finally looked up again.
"If you wish to tell me, go ahead."
"I am called Gavinus. It means hawk."