Hello! To anyone who is still reading this fic, I'm so sorry for the unplanned hiatus. When I last updated I was finishing secondary school and now, two years later, I have completed my second year at university. I never intended to leave it this long, but when you're studying Japanese, things get a little intense - anyway, I'm back now and intend to post a few more chapters before I go to Japan on my year abroad in September. I did say I wouldn't abandon this story and I will try my best to stick to that promise - even if OSAS takes years to finish. So, with that, happy reading!

A few days had passed since the events in Vercci's study. The merchant had not called upon Voldo since and, with little else to do, the latter found himself either walking aimlessly around the grounds or, more often than not, shut away in the villa's library, finding comfort in the heavy volumes that it was home to.

Today, however, the weather was fine, and so Voldo decided to take his reading outside. After his and Vercci's impromptu sparring session last week, Voldo had found himself to be somewhat drawn to the katars and, after picking out A Swordsman's Guide to Asia from among the dusty, leather-bound books, he set off down the halls of the villa, eager to simply curl up in a corner of the courtyard and research for a while.

However, no sooner had he reached the doorway that led outside than he caught sight of a figure sitting at the table a few meters away, a platter of fruit nearby and an open book in front of him. A young servant also stood by, ready to wait on him.

Vercci looked up sharply from his book. 'Ah, Voldo…'

Immediately, Voldo panicked and bowed low, muttering a string of apologies for interrupting his master before backing away to leave.

'No, no,' Vercci replied, with that familiar look of mild amusement playing across his face, 'come… sit.'

Voldo had no choice but to oblige, drawing up a chair and seating himself opposite the merchant.

'Tullio,' Vercci said lazily, not bothering to face the servant standing by when he spoke to him, but keeping his eyes on Voldo all the while, 'fetch me another fruit platter.'

Voldo's eyes widened. What was this?

'Yes, Master,' came the reply, before Tullio turned on his heel and entered the villa.

Vercci toyed with the fruit knife, eyeing the title of the book that Voldo held. 'Reading up on the katars, are we?'

Voldo nodded. 'They are very… intriguing.'

'That they are.'

There was a short pause before Vercci spoke once again. 'How did you know they were from Asia?' he asked, looking at the book again and frowning slightly.

Voldo stared at the ground. 'A guess, Master – that is all…' he replied, feeling himself going red, 'the name "Jamadhar Katar" sounds… eastern.'

He could feel Vercci's eyes on him. 'An intelligent boy as well as a pretty one,' he mused, before speaking a little louder, 'I acquired them whilst on a trip to Agra – perhaps that will aid you a little.'

Voldo remained silent, unsure of how to answer. Vercci leaned back in his chair. 'I've come to notice you enjoy reading,' he stated.

Voldo looked at him, slightly uncomfortable with the awkward small talk. 'In truth, my elder brother Aurelio was the scholarly one out of all of us, but… back home we had a small library and… I spent a lot of time there. I simply enjoy learning, Master. Nothing more.'

Vercci cocked his head to one side.

'What sort of things do you enjoy learning?'

His question was almost patronising, akin to a schoolteacher asking a child about their favourite subject, and Voldo felt himself flush even more.

'Languages, mainly,' he replied.

'How many do you speak?'

'French, Spanish… conversational German and… a little English and Greek.'

The merchant nodded approvingly. 'Do you ride?'

Voldo looked up. 'Y-yes, Master… my family owns horses and I've ridden ever since I was a child.'

Just then Tullio reappeared in the doorway, walking out towards where Voldo and Vercci both sat. 'Master Vercci, your fruit.'

'Thank you, Tullio.'

The servant set down the platter and a second fruit knife, before returning to his position behind the merchant.

Vercci pushed the platter in Voldo's direction. 'Eat.'

Voldo obliged, picking up an apple and peeling it slowly. The merchant continued. 'So… you are well-educated, you are a linguist, you ride… how is your arithmetic?'

At no point throughout this little interview had Vercci's voice given anything away – instead he spoke with the same calm, quiet yet abrupt tone as he had a few days ago in the study. Yet why was he interested in all of this? What further use could Voldo serve? His background did not matter now; no matter how many books he had read, how many languages he had learned, how many horses he had ridden, he had been brought here for one purpose only: to please his master in bed.

Still, he did not dare question him.

'I confess I am not very good with numbers… simple finances, yes, but… I am no great mathematician.'

'You are a swordsman as well, of course.' Vercci's tone was almost kind.

Voldo shook his head. 'Merely an amateur one, Master… and only with a rapier.'

There was a long silence as Vercci's eyes bored into Voldo's blue ones. 'Tullio,' he said once more, 'Karma and Mara. Bring them to me.'

Tullio bowed and began to make his way back indoors. 'And two rapiers,' Vercci called after him, 'any will do.'

Voldo averted his eyes, his heart speeding up a little. Was this some sort of trick, or test? Did he expect a duel here, now, in the courtyard of the villa? And why two rapiers, if he wanted Voldo to use the katars? Would he –?

'Signore,' came a voice, 'I found –'

Voldo and Vercci glanced up to see Rufino making his way into the courtyard holding a stack of papers. Upon seeing Voldo, however, he stopped dead, his eyes lingering on him for what seemed like a second too long before he turned to the merchant and bowed.

'Ah... perhaps I have come at an inconvenient time...'

Vercci put down the fruit knife and looked up at his assistant, remaining seated. 'A little – what have you found, Rufino?'

Rufino glanced briefly down at Voldo before hesitating slightly. 'Information on our friend Zasalamel… and his links to Soul Edge.'

Vercci eyed the papers. 'Leave whatever it is on my desk – I'll review it all later.'

Rufino looked slightly put out but nodded stiffly nonetheless. 'As you wish. One more thing –' he began again.

'What is it?' Vercci replied shortly, a new note of impatience in his voice.

Rufino plucked a letter from atop the papers and held it out towards the merchant. 'This arrived for you from Spain. I was informed it was urgent.'

Vercci irritably took the letter and inspected it. 'I don't recognise the seal…' he muttered, before picking up the fruit knife again and using it to slice open the wax. He unfolded the letter and glanced it over, frowning a little, before folding it up and placing it back on top of the papers that Rufino held.

'Leave it with everything else.'

'But Master, I –'

'It can wait,' Vercci snapped, 'as you may have guessed, Rufino, I am a little preoccupied at the moment.'

There was an uncomfortable silence as Rufino's startlingly green eyes moved once more to Voldo. The blond looked away, unsettled, feeling the man's gaze upon him.

'…of course, Master,' he said finally, before bowing low and turning on his heel, walking briskly back into the house.

Voldo fidgeted a little as the sound of Rufino's footsteps died away. He looked in the direction of the villa, wanting to make sure he was gone – though for what reason, he was not exactly sure.

He turned back to face his master. Again, Soul Edge had been mentioned, as well as this Zasalamel whom Voldo had overheard Vercci and Rufino discussing a few days prior. Not wanting to appear meddlesome, Voldo held his tongue and refrained – however difficult it was to do so – from broaching the subject.

It seemed, however, that Vercci had already noticed his servant's questioning look.

'Is something bothering you, Voldo?' His tone was almost patronising, and sent a chill up Voldo's spine.

Voldo stared at the table. 'N-no, Master...'

'I am not a fool, Voldo.'

The blond looked up. 'Nothing is wrong.'

'I don't believe you.'

Voldo blushed, looking away. 'I…'

'Go on.'

Voldo hesitated a little. 'Forgive me for asking, but… what is... what is Soul Edge?'

There was a long silence. '"What is Soul Edge…"' Vercci repeated quietly.

'Master Vercci, the weapons you requested.'

The men looked up to see Tullio making his way back towards them, two rapiers in one hand and a large black case in the other. He set them down gently on the far end of the table before resuming his position behind Vercci once more.

'Thank you Tullio. You may leave us now.'

The young man bowed and headed back inside.

Vercci stood abruptly and picked up the two rapiers before moving towards the centre of the courtyard and gesturing for Voldo to follow him. The blonde's heart began to speed up; he knew what was coming and he would certainly humiliate himself. Vercci handed him a rapier and he took it cautiously, its beautiful golden hilt gleaming in the sunlight.

'Show me your stance,' the merchant commanded, standing a few paces away from him. Voldo obliged: feet shoulder-width apart; body to the side; shoulder facing the opponent; arm outstretched but slightly bent; the weapon's guard covering the hand; and blade pointing to the opponent's chest, just as he had seen Francesco do in the past.

Vercci nodded approvingly, before stepping forward and placing his hand lightly over Voldo's. 'Don't grip so hard,' he said, 'as soon as you tense up, your movements become less smooth and you will run a greater risk of losing the bout.' Voldo shivered a little at his touch before relaxing slightly. The merchant stepped away again, raising his weapon.

'Now… attack me.'

Voldo looked at his master for a moment, wondering if this was some sort of trick. What if he actually managed to hit him this time? The older man was wearing no armour, and would no doubt be injured if Voldo succeeded in –

But then, who was he trying to fool? Of course, he would not be able to land a single hit. Vercci had no need for any armour; he was not an amateur, and had nothing to fear from his servant.

Taking a breath to calm his nerves, Voldo took a quick step forward and lunged, grateful for his height which allowed his blade to reach the merchant effortlessly. As was to be expected, however, Vercci parried the blow, forcing Voldo's weapon aside before aiming a swift riposte – and stopping barely an inch away from Voldo's throat.

Voldo froze, his grip on his weapon tightening once again as he glanced down at the sword at his neck. The two men remained there for a few seconds in their deadly tableau before Vercci spoke.

'Had this been a real bout you would be dead,' Vercci remarked, 'nevertheless, we are only practising… tell me, what would be the best way to get out of this?'

Voldo frowned, confused as to why Vercci had not only decided to practically interview him a few minutes ago but to test his sparring technique also. Surely he had more important things to be doing?

'My blade is too close for you to parry it effectively without wounding yourself,' Vercci continued after a pause, 'what is your other option?'

Voldo thought for a moment. 'To move backwards,' he replied hesitantly, before taking a cautious step back away from the point of Vercci's rapier as though to prove his point.

'Good. Now let us try once more and see how far we can get. Be on your guard this time.'

Voldo raised his weapon and settled back into a stance. No sooner had he done so, however, than he saw Vercci's blade flying towards him. He parried the blow quickly before side-stepping out of range, taking a split-second to prepare himself before he launched into a counterattack.

'Soul Edge,' Vercci said, dodging Voldo's blade, 'you wanted to know about Soul Edge.'

Caught off-guard at the merchant's sudden return to the previous topic, as well as his decision to converse whilst sparring, Voldo narrowly avoided his rapier, stumbling backwards in an effort to gather himself.

'Y-yes – I mean, I was merely curious – I saw it written on a plaque down in the weapon room and wondered what it meant –'

The blond barely brought his weapon up in time to parry another attack before forcing the blade to one side and lunging forwards in order to try and hit Vercci's shoulder in a clumsy riposte. The merchant effortlessly blocked the blow, the sound of metal ringing loudly in the courtyard.

'Soul Edge,' Vercci began slowly, taking a step back and pausing for a moment, 'is…'

He smirked, his eyes glinting. 'It is a blade… a blade of ultimate power. A weapon notorious for its hold on people – it is said that only those who are of the utmost discipline are able to wield it.'

Voldo looked at him. '"Its hold on people"?' he asked.

Vercci's unsettling smile grew wider. 'It is not an ordinary sword, Voldo. It possesses a will, it invades the mind of those too weak to wield it. It is, one could say… alive.'

Voldo frowned in a mixture of confusion and horror. How could such a thing exist on God's good earth? A sword that controlled its user?

'Alive,' Voldo repeated quietly, unsure of whether he wanted to know the answer to his next question. 'And… what is it that keeps it alive, master?'

'A lust for blood,' Vercci replied impassively, 'it devours the souls of those it massacres.'

Voldo felt a shiver down his spine. 'Their souls?!' He stared at the merchant, wondering if this was simply a joke. 'It sounds as though it was sent to earth by Satan himself!' he stated. Vercci laughed.

'Perhaps,' he replied, nonchalantly.

Voldo felt unnerved by Vercci's indifference. 'And… why do you want this… Soul Edge, master?' he asked, shuddering as he realised the significance of the sword's name.

'Oh, Voldo,' Vercci answered, a patronising note in his voice, 'I collect rare treasures – and the Cursed Sword is the rarest of them all.'

Are you insane, Voldo thought, what if you're too weak for it as well? He bit his tongue, however, for he did not dare question him and his desire for the sword which seemed to have come straight out of hell. But then again, did Vercci really want to wield it? Or merely make it his?

'Have I answered your question?' the merchant asked. Voldo nodded silently in reply, not trusting himself to speak.

'Good.'

Vercci strode back over to the table and placed his rapier down. 'Now,' he muttered, turning to the case and undoing the jewelled buckles that kept it shut, 'let us return to the task at hand.' He lifted the lid, revealing the exquisite pieces of art that were the katars. Voldo gazed at them in awe, unable to take his eyes off them, and put his own rapier down next to Vercci's as the merchant spoke.

'Usually the katar consists of but a single blade,' he said, 'or, occasionally, one may have a dagger that has two blades folded together, appearing as one, only for them to split apart and reveal a smaller one inside. They are impractical, however, and used more so for ceremonial or ornamental purposes.'

Vercci picked up one of the katars. 'Karma and Mara, however, are especially unique in that they were forged from the beginning with three separate blades. They may look too beautiful to use, but they can take a substantial amount of damage as well as deal it.'

The merchant picked up the second weapon and held the pair of them out to Voldo. 'Now then,' he stated, 'I want you to –'

'Master Vercci! Master Vercci!'

Both men suddenly looked in the direction of the voice to find Rufino striding purposefully towards them, dragging somebody along behind him. Voldo looked closer to find it was none other than the servant who had been waiting on Vercci just a few minutes ago, and he was now shrieking and struggling to free himself from Rufino's grip.

'What is the meaning of this?' Vercci asked sharply, visibly annoyed at another interruption as he put the katars down.

'He was stealing, master.' Rufino held out a delicate silver chain, as if to prove his point. 'I found this in his pocket.'

Voldo glanced at the merchant, whose features darkened as he in turn glared at Tullio.

'It's not true!' cried the servant frantically, 'I would never –' He turned to Rufino. 'Where's your proof?!' he spat. Rufino smirked, thrusting his hand into Tullio's pocket and pulling out two or three more pieces of jewellery. Tullio went pale.

'You – no – that's impossible, he –' the servant began to tremble, a note of fear entering his voice, 'Master Vercci, I swear upon my life, I did not do anything – it was Rufino, he – he must have framed me, please, believe me –'

Voldo watched in silent horror as the scene unfolded, feeling unsettled as he glanced at Rufino and caught his eye briefly before looking quickly away. Surely Vercci's most trusted advisor wouldn't do such a thing? What motive would he have to frame a servant such as Tullio? But, then again, what if Tullio had –?

No, he couldn't have. Voldo could tell by the petrified, almost pitiful look on his face. Or, at least, that was what he wanted to believe.

Vercci was silent, his face impassive. 'Signore,' said Rufino calmly, in stark contrast to Tullio's desperation, 'I assure you I saw it with my own eyes.'

Tullio looked up at Rufino, wide-eyed, 'you lying bastard!' he shouted, 'you lying, scheming, cu—'

'Enough.' Voldo shivered at the coldness in Vercci's voice and the malevolent glint in his dark eyes. 'Such a foul tongue… that won't do at all.'

What happened next made Voldo's blood run cold.

'Hold him down.' Vercci's order was simple. Rufino wordlessly pinned Tullio down against the table, slamming his shoulders roughly onto the wood. Vercci eyed the servant for a moment before picking up the fruit knife he had abandoned earlier and walking slowly towards him. Upon seeing the sight of the knife, Tullio's eyes widened and he struggled even more.

'No – please – have mercy – I promise I didn't steal anything – please – please – I beg you, master – have mercy –'

Vercci ignored him, reaching down and grabbing his jaw, forcing Tullio to look at him. The servant was beginning to weep now, continuing to beg for his life, and Vercci bent down so that their faces were merely inches away from each other.

'Do you honestly think I'd take your word against his?' he whispered, smirking. Tullio quietened a little, the atmosphere so thick it could almost have been cut with a knife. 'a servant like you over the man to whom I entrust my most important affairs?'

Tullio began to weep harder. 'Please, master – spare me,' he said, between sobs. 'I – I didn't steal anything – I swear –'

'Liar,' Vercci snapped, coldly, 'do you know what happens to liars in this household, Tullio?'

The young servant did not answer, simply whimpering and trembling with fear. Voldo felt sick but was unable to look away – surely Vercci would not kill him just like that?

'I'll take that as a no, shall I?' Vercci continued, his dark eyes boring into Tullio's tear-filled ones, 'well then – let me show you.'

Without warning, he used one hand to force Tullio's lips apart, roughly thrusting his fingers inside his mouth as the servant writhed on the table, his screams muffled by the fact that Vercci had now gotten hold of his tongue. The merchant brought the knife up towards Tullio's face and it was then that Voldo looked away, staring hard at the floor and trying desperately not to vomit at the thought of what Vercci was about to do. But although he did not watch the punishment take place, he could not block out what he heard: the tortured, inhuman noise that issued from the servant's throat; the way he was thrashing around so violently on the table it seemed as though the sheer force would kill him; the terrible retching, gurgling noise as Tullio slowly choked on the blood that filled his mouth.

After several long moments, Voldo dared to look back up. Vercci was standing silently, holding Tullio's tongue in his hand and watching wordlessly as the servant continued to gag and convulse on the table. 'Release him,' he commanded a moment later, and Rufino did so, sending Tullio crashing to his knees at Vercci's feet. The young man shook violently, making incomprehensible noises as he vomited a mixture of blood and bile on the tiles and appeared to be slipping in and out of consciousness.

'Thank you for informing me, Rufino,' Vercci said coolly. Voldo shuddered – the merchant had been just as calm as when he had threatened Malfatti. He had not raised his voice, he had not flown into a blind rage; instead he had tortured a servant in the same neutral manner in which one might write a letter.

Rufino bowed. 'I live to serve you, master.' It was all Voldo could do not to raise an eyebrow at such a sycophantic response.

'Tell Stella to come out and deal with our Tullio here, who I hope has learned his lesson,' he commanded, not taking his eyes off of the servant who was still spluttering and moaning in pain, 'fetch someone to return the weapons and clear up, too.'

'Of course, master.'

Vercci dropped the tongue carelessly on the ground, his eyes lingering on Tullio for a moment more before turning away. 'Voldo, come with me,' he stated simply, and walked back inside the villa. Voldo hastily picked up the books that had been left on the table before hurrying after him, feeling Rufino's eyes on him all the while as he left.

~o~

A few minutes later the two of them were back in Vercci's study. Voldo had not spoken, still trying to comprehend what had just happened and almost wondering if it had been real. Vercci did not bring it up, either, instead simply carrying on matter-of-factly with his affairs. Voldo was sitting in the same armchair as a few days ago, watching his master as he glanced over the stack of paperwork that Rufino had placed there before picking up the letter.

He looked over at the blond. 'How good is your Spanish?' he asked.

Voldo frowned at the question, fidgeting a little but grateful for the distraction from what he had just witnessed. 'By no means fluent,' he replied quietly.

'Can you read a letter?'

'Mostly, yes.'

Vercci handed the paper to him, and Voldo took it slowly, looking up at the merchant. First the sparring lesson, now this – he had been employed to please the man in bed, what was his motive for giving him other tasks? Voldo got the feeling it was about more than simply his ability to speak another language. He thought back to Rufino – the way Vercci had dismissed him earlier, and the flash of annoyance, almost jealousy, that Voldo had seen in his green eyes. And yet, what should Rufino even be jealous of? What cause would Vercci's personal advisor himself have to worry about someone in as low a position as Voldo? He did not understand.

He looked back down at the letter, eyeing the scrawled handwriting. 'Forgive me, master, but… what if it's something private that I, as your servant, shouldn't know about?'

That familiar smirk appeared on Vercci's face. 'Then I trust you would not share my secrets, would you, Voldo?'

The blond looked away. 'Of course not,' he murmured quietly. He did not need to be reminded of what happened to those who angered the Merchant of Death.

Vercci spoke a little louder. 'Work at my desk and translate the letter as best you can. There is parchment and ink for you to use, and you may go and get a dictionary from the library if you wish – there should be one there. Under no circumstances, however, is the letter to leave this room. Do you understand?'

Voldo did not argue. 'Yes, master.'

~o~

'…and I am prepared to pay whatever you want – simply name your price. I seek only the best artillery, Signore Vercci, but then again, I'm sure you know all about wanting the finer things in life. I trust you'll think this over, and I await your response. Signed, Cervantes de León.'

Vercci finished reading the letter out loud and laughed, leaning back in the armchair he'd been sitting in the entire time Voldo had been completing his task. 'I never thought he'd be this bold, but then, what else would I expect from such a man?' he said, more to himself than anyone else. Voldo looked at him, not knowing who this Cervantes was.

'Would you like me to translate your reply, master?' he found himself asking a moment later. The merchant shook his head.

'No need. If he can inconvenience me by writing in his own tongue, I can damn well do the same.'

Vercci put the letter down, looking up at his servant. 'Thank you, Voldo,' he said suddenly, 'you may go now.'

The blond bowed and left the study, walking swiftly back to his room and thankful that he did not pass anyone on the way. Locking the door, he lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling and pondering for what seemed like hours.

Today had been bizarre.