"Remind me why I care." Grausam stared at the rat in front of him. A crash of thunder shook the fortress; Grausam smiled inwardly as his spy jumped.
Spion stared at his trembling footpaws as he spoke. "W-well if the slaves," he gulped, "if they find out about it then they'll probably try to escape there." Grausam made as if to stand but Spion hurriedly added, "Not that'd ever happen, Your Majesty…." Grausam sat and continued to watch Spion as an uncomfortable silence filled the air.
"You think I didn't already realize this? If you were a good spy you'd find out what the slaves are planning." Spion flushed crimson.
"I would have," he started angrily, "but I can't just walk in there, now can I?!"
"There, there, my hot-tempered rat, I will gladly help you out there. I'll simply have you thrown in with the slaves when they come in from work tonight." Grausam chuckled quietly.
Spion looked aghast. "But…but…but…you're going to starve me? And make me do menial labor?"
"It would look that way, my friend, it would look that way. Run along now." Spion angrily stormed to the door, but turned as Grausam addressed him a final time. "And Spion, you'll be out of there faster if you get me the information I want."
As soon as Spion slammed the door, Grausam let his pretense fall. He felt less depressed now that Spion was out of the picture. His son, and second-in-command, Ishmael, was already feeding him a steady stream of information about his slaves's plans. Grausam flexed his claws at the thought of the pain he would inflict upon them as punishment.
They had murdered his wife. Now they would repay his tears twofold with their blood!
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
"Yomi, I can't keep doing this. I'm a terrible liar."
"The secret is to not get caught."
"But I don't have practice at that like you." Ishmael faced Yomi in the semi-darkness. She looked at him, seeing well in the dim light of a guttering torch. He touched her shoulder. "What if you get caught? He'll probably kill you!"
Yomi snorted. "Not unless I get caught and he finds Salvia, which is unlikely."
"But if you get caught, it still won't be fun for you." Ishmael frowned. "You know what Grausam's like."
Yomi sighed before replying quietly, "Don't you think I've thought about that? If Salvia's dead, then I'm the only one with Kilarnee blood left from my family." Ishmael looked down at Yomi. Her face looked sad and drawn.
Ishmael said hurriedly, "No, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm just worried, is all."
"Offend me?" Yomi's voice barely changed in volume, though she may as well have shrieked at him. "You think you know what my life is like, but you don't. You think you do, but you don't. Don't even think you fool any of us."
Ishmael hung his head. "Don't you think I ever feel ostracized? I don't believe in my father's ways, though I have to act like it, and you and your lot don't accept me either."
"Did you expect us to?"
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
"And then he had the nerve to question whether or not I can take care of myself!" Yomi huddled next to her friend Firedew inside the slave cell. Firedew sighed inwardly, exasperated with Yomi's short temper.
"He just wants what's best for you Yomi."
Yomi stood up angrily. "Well, then he could free us! Instead he sits around and stuffs his stupid face all day with stupid food his slaves cook for him."
Firedew looked up at Yomi. "Think of how he feels though. Sure, he gets to eat as much as he wants, and he doesn't have to work, but he has to beat and abuse slaves against his will."
Yomi's eyes blazed. "Doesn't anyone care how I feel?" She stalked off to the other side of the cell. She heard a squeak as she plunked herself down into the corner.
"Who're you?" Yomi glared at the speaker in question, a small gerbil.
"Guess." Yomi was in no mood to talk to anybeast.
"I'm new here," the gerbil said sullenly.
"Remind me why I care."