2.9: SECOND AMBUSH

"What shall we do now general?" the young soldier who had been previously accused by him inquired. "We can't just let his majesty stray off from the protected areas of the castle. He will become an easy target for the rebels."

The Namek general remained silent for a moment. In his mind he tried to plot out a strategy to guard the king's safety without violating his lord's request for seclusion. There was also the matter of finding the ones responsible for the queen's assassination to attend to. He had already his heart set on a certain primary suspect, and now it would be a matter of quick action to catch the supposed villain before he decided to flee the city. He gazed back at his men, straitening his posture and raising his chin. His dark eyes did not show a trace of his hidden anxiety.

"Men! I want fifty of you to go directly to the prince royal quarters and protect his young highness twenty-four hours a day. You stay by his side whether he's awake or asleep, and you keep an eye on the nanny who's responsible for his care. If the woman even blinks funny, remove the prince out of her supervision immediately, and report to me at once. Go now."

"Yes general!" affirmed the voices of fifty men in loud unison. Without even the need for their general to appoint them personally, the group detached itself from the company in a calm and organized fashion and marched away.

"Now, I want four of you who are the most skilled in stealth techniques to track down the king and guard him. Don't let him know that you are there for his protection. His highness is in great grief due to the death of our beloved queen, and needs his time alone to recover from this painful lost. Hide yourselves well. Again, if any of you find something peculiar, report to me at once."

Four men stepped forward, their eyes glistering and their broad chests swollen with pride to be part of this important assignment. Once again, the men spoke in unison, their low voices roaring their confirmation.

" We are the ones you require general! Your wish is our command."

Piccolo nodded to the foursome and after they left, he gestured to the others to follow him.

"The rest of you will assist me to arrest the prime suspect of this gruesome murder. The suspect is the royal kitchen chef, Dodoria. No crime records exist and although he has a bad reputation amongst the castle staff of being a rather obnoxious, ill-tempered man, he seems clean. Still, be very cautious during the arrest. His powerlevel is just under the thousand, but he's cunning and may surprise you with his brute strength. This raid may not fail, men! He is our only link for solving this crime."

"Yes general!"

With a single, almost imperceptible nod, the Namek brought the whole unit into motion. He paced through the company. The men stepped aside, creating a broad path to let him pass. When he came to the head of the line, the others followed their leader as they started to journey towards the royal kitchens.

~*~*~*~*~*~

When the company reached the entrance of the royal kitchens, they found two soldiers who the general had sent earlier to be waiting for them. Both men were elite spies, trained in their stealth and combat techniques, and they had shadowed the master kitchen chef Dodoria ever since the physicians informed their commander that the queen was victim of poisoning. Although the cook had served the royal family for many years, Piccolo had his doubt about the man's loyalty. Dodoria was of the Vesuvian race. His people had served the enemy empire of King Cold before the alliance was formed. Although there was a silent agreement between the beaten emperor and the Saiyan kings that had secured the fragile peace between the two races for many decades, there had always been some tension, caused by the mistrust of the Saiyans towards the Icejins or their befriended races. This was not entirely unjustified, since frequently occurring terrorist's attacks and strange incidents of violence seemed often to be linked to the small group of Icejins living on Vegetasei. It was only for the continuation of this valuable intergalactic peace with the mighty Cold Empire that king Bardock had tolerated these disturbances so far. However, if this time, the general would find a connection in the murder of their beloved queen that leads towards the suspicious Icejins, the threat of war may be very eminent. The prospect of a perilous conflict in which millions from the alliance, soldiers and commoners alike, would perish, pressed as a heavy moral burden on the general's shoulders. He had to be exceptionally careful when dealing with this uncommon assignment; his findings may affect the fate of entire nations.

The Namek knew that Dodoria was infamous for his corruptibility. His long years of service in the court meant that he had earned some misguided trust from the officials. There were rumors that he forced his kitchenboys to eavesdrop on important meetings of the black council, after which he sold the information to their opponents, the Reds. Both parties consisted of Saiyan nobles exclusively, but the members of the black council had the unusual gift to perform magic. They were, as they themselves proudly claimed, the more advanced form of their race, having acquired their supernatural skills from mystical alien races the Saiyans once had conquered. Powerful because of their extraordinary talents, but weak in their physical forms, they feared the Reds, a party consisting of hardened warlords. Many of them had served the great king Bardock the second during the battle of Ceflon. These old warriors had very different interests to protect then the mages whom they consider weak and intolerable, and so, the two main advisory commissions of the empire's regime clash with one-another most frequently. If it were not for the absolute power of the throne and their common loyalty to the kings from the Bardock linage, this nation would have been torn by civil war ages ago.

Piccolo stepped toward the two men, and addressed them briefly, not willing to waste more precious time needlessly. They reported to him that nothing peculiar had occurred during the entire time that they monitored Dodoria. It seemed that there was a minor dispute in the kitchens during the early morning, when one of the kitchenboys had defied the chef and escaped from certain castigation for stealing. However, during the rest of the day, there had not been any unusual patterns in Dodoria's behavior. The two left their subject alone after he had locked himself in after nightfall.

"He's still inside the kitchen quarters sir. How shall we proceed?"

Piccolo touched the cool surface of the heavy steel plated door that shut the drafty stairways to the cellars, testing the strength of this obstacle. Breaking it with brute force will certainly create too much racket and alarm the suspect.

"Can one of you pick open the locks from outside?"

The men nodded. One of them drew a long, slim hook from his pocket and inserted it carefully inside the keyhole. He twisted it around a couple of times and there was the sound of a metal contraption that fell into place. The soldier gave the door a gentle push after which it slowly cracked open, revealing a small strip of light.

"Well done." His general complemented with a grin. " Now lets hope that our Vesuvian friend is not expecting visitors on this time of the evening."

The company entered the small hallway and descended down the long, winding stairs. They made sure that they did not made any noise, not even the faintest clanging of shields scraping against the stones or the resonation of footsteps that could warn off their suspect. As the men were halfway to the underground kitchens, they picked up a soft sobbing, coming from behind a closed door that was enveloped in the darkness of a obscured corner of the staircase. The general pressed his finger on his lips, urging his company to remain silent. He waved one of the elite spies to come closer.

"Where is this door leading to?" he inquired in a whispering but clear voice.

"It's leading to Dodoria's private quarters my lord."

"Is he alone in there, or did he receive guests earlier this day?"

"Not that we know of sir. Perhaps it's one of his boys."

A loud, pitiful cry came from the enclosed quarters, followed by the harsh voice of the cook himself. The general could clearly hear the man shout abuses and treats towards whoever was sharing his company in that room, and by the sound of his unsteady voice, it seemed that he had been drinking heavily. Piccolo had to force himself to stay on his location, his body tense with the waves of stirring hormones rushing trough his veins. He clenched his fists and fixed his eyes upon his companions, who were waiting anxiously for a signal. When a second, wretched wail resonated trough the stone walls, the general lost his endurance and he jumped up from his crouched position.

"Men! We're moving in! NOW!"

The silence was cruelly broken by the clanging of armor and the hasty marching of footsteps. With one single blow, the general forced open the wooden door, dislocating it from its hinges and sending it plummeting down. He entered the room, and as he observed the frightful scene that was displayed in front of his very eyes, he could not help but to be shocked motionless. Dodoria had one of his boys pinned down by the wrists on a table and raised up a butcher's knife high above his head, ready to strike down at his little victim. The young boy looked up and gazed upon the Namek's alien face, his cheeks were glistering with tears, while fear is plainly showing in his eyes. The boy cried out to him heart wrenchingly. It was a last, desperate plead for help before the blade dropped down with merciless determination.



2.10: SALVATION OR DAMNATION

Vegeta stared at the stranger who had suddenly appeared in the opened doorway. He could not recognize the armor in which he was dressed to be the uniform of the Saiyan elite troops, having spent most of his life locked away in the hellish kitchens, but he could understand by the expression on the man's face that he was shocked. Instinctively, he cried out to him for help. His master, standing with his back to the door, seemed not to have even noticed the outburst of activity that had swarm into his quarters, being still captured by the sense numbing experience of his intoxication.

"Quite boy! You've plenty to yelp about when I'm finished with you!"

"NO!!! PLEASE!!!"

The swift flash of the shiny blade caught Vegeta's squinting eyes, just before a bright light emerged that exploded upon his master's hand. A high- pitched shriek came from Dodoria as he let go of the knife. As it dived down, a second beam collided with the metal, and sent the dangerous tool reeling over the edge of the table. The huge man rolled on the floor in great agony, holding his incinerated hand while he shouted curses at the mysterious attacker. A sickening smell of scorched fat filled the air.

"WHO DID THIS!!? WHO DID THIS TO ME!!? I'M GONNA KILL THE FUCKING BASTARD!!!"

"Shut up you sadistic piece of shit! For what you were about to do to that boy, I should have blasted both your hands off! Guards, restrain this beast immediately!"

The small room was swiftly filled with activity as the armored men marched in. They dragged the injured villain away from the quivering child and thrust him with his back against the wall, after which they ceased his hands and tied them together. Dodoria winced when the rope cut through his blistered flesh.

"Arghhh! You're cutting through my hand you stupid fuck!" he spat. "You stupid sons of bit -"

Before he could finish his tirade, one of the soldiers silenced him with the back of his sword's handle, administrating a vicious blow on his jaw that knocked out a couple of teeth.

"Silence villain! You're in custody of the second division of the royal Saiyan elite and you have the right to remain silent, or everything you're about to say from now on can be used against you in future trials."

Dodoria spat out a lump of blood and teeth as he tried to crawl back up. A stunned expression of denial was written all over his face. This could not be happening to him.

"What are you talking about!? he groaned. "You've no right to storm into my room in the middle of the night and treat me like this. I'M THE ROYAL COOK!"

"Exactly, and that's why we are now paying you this late night visit." Piccolo sneered and he crouched beside the large man. They glanced at each other and the general could see the fear and disgust in his prisoner's bloodshot eyes.

"W-What do you mean. I have not violated any law!"

"Chopping off little children's hands seems a violation of the law to me."

"I was just toying with the kid! He stole from the royal supplies! I wanted to scare him so he will never do it again! I wasn't really going to chop his freaking little hands off!"

Vegeta had silently crawled away under the table where he pulled his knees tightly against his shivering body, his arms wrapped around his chest. He was still devastated and wanted to hide from these strange, dangerous looking men, although it seemed to have saved him from a horrid fate. He choked on his tears, when the black boots of one of the soldiers appeared in front of the table, swiftly followed by a chain-mail plated arm. A heavily bearded face, framed in an iron helmet, stared at him.

"Here! I've found the young scoundrel!"

The boy cried as a large, callous hand grabbed him by his arm and dragged him towards the fearsome warrior. He kicked wildly with his legs while he tried desperately to struggle free of the man's iron grip, but he was lifted up into the air as if he was a harmless kitten. A cloud of hot air made his eyes water and squint as the soldier pushed a burning torch close to his face, revealing his young features to the commander.

Trough half-shut eyes and blinking fervently against the light, Vegeta could distinguish the strange, dark alien eyes of the Namek who had rescued him. They were hooded by heavy, hairless brows and were deceptively calm. The look that the general gave him was not a sympathetic one, but it was not a hostile either. He was observing him thoroughly, inspecting the cuts and the rashes on his dirt stained skin, as well as the protruding ribs on his chest and the hollowly cheeks, signs of severe neglect and starvation. It was not until his cruel master started to shout that Vegeta dared to open his mouth and speak up to the striking Namek warrior.

"There you are you little rodent! Look at what you've gotten me into you son of a threefold contaminated whore! You should arrest him officers! Not me! He's the one who's breaking the law here! He stole from the supplies and attempted to destroy the kitchens! Throw him into the dungeon instead of me!"

Piccolo could observe a sudden glittering of light in the boy's eyes. It was the reflection of an outburst of uncontrolled anger. Starting in an unsteady and trembling voice, the plead of the youngster became louder as his hatred against his wicked master surfaced rigorously.

"H-He's lying Sir! I-I haven't stole anything from the storage rooms. I wouldn't dare! That man is evil, I've tried to tell him that I was not guilty but he wouldn't listen. He told me he would cut me open and feed me to the luppers. And then h-he hurt me. I was scared. He wanted to chop off my hands! Please protect me from my cruel master, good sir. Don't let him hurt me!"

Dodoria's eyes bulged in their sockets. He could not believe the nerve that insolent child had to rat on him like this against these cocky-eyed bastards. "Wait till I get free, boy!" He hissed dangerously. "Wait till I get my hands on you. You will regret this squealing of yours so much that you would not even be able to talk about it afterwards! I'll rip out your tongue and seal the wound with hot wax! I'm going to flog you till your back is so rare that you will need a thousand stitches to stop it from bleeding!! "

A malicious blow came from the general, his movements were of such velocity that the boy could not even see his fist make impact with his master's stomach. The effect of the powerful jolt was stunning; it sent the large man reeling against the walls, bending double and gasping for air while his pink face drained white of agony. A sunken imprint of the Namek's fist was left in the trembling obese heap, which was Dodoria's belly.

Piccolo frowned, as the child yelled mockingly at his former boogeyman. He was disturbed by the child's visible enjoyment of the man's demise.

"Serves you right you big farting bastard! I hope they are going to slid you open and spill your guts all over your precious kitchens, you abusive creep! I hope they will let you rot in hell!!"

"Enough of this."

Piccolo seized the child from the soldier and tossed him on the floor. Vegeta landed on his hands and knees in front of the general's boots. Just as he wanted to crawl back up and run away, the Namek stepped on his tail. Gazing up at the large warrior who towered above him, his face grim and stern without a trace of sympathy, the young orphan backed up and sat on the floor motionless, caught by fear.

"I'm not here to arrest you for child abuse Dodoria." The Namek turned and gazed at the restrained man, who was still trying to catch his breath while coping with the painful dent that burnt in his abdomen. "Although this could be added to your crime charges immediately if you chose not to cooperate."

He gestured to one of the soldiers, and Dodoria was hauled up from the floor. The obese chef was not feeling so well. The assault of mister mean green bean had made his stomach swirl and turn, and he was close to throwing up the excessive liquor he had consumed earlier. He squinted his eyes as drops of sweat glide down his eyebrows. His huge palms were slippery with perspiration.

"What do you want of me, Namek." he spoke hostily; his pink, rubbery face still carried that loathing look that showed his contempt for the alien general.

Dodoria was sent bending through his knees almost instantaneously as one of Piccolo's loyal men bashed a spiked club into the soft flesh of his upper calves. It was followed by more vicious blows, some administrated by the boots of the soldier, some with the painful weapon. The large man let go a loud and frightening howl, that made the hair on his young apprentice's tail stand up like that of an startled cat and made him hide behind the legs of the general.

"Address the general properly by his rank, or you will be punished." the soldier informed him coldly, while he forced the beaten man back up.

"I-I have committed no crime, you have no right to treat me like this." the chef stammered. He was clearly intimidated by the violence and the ruthlessness of his attackers, and the booze caused carelessness that had once fuelled his bravery, was starting to expire.

"What do you want from me!?"

"We want you to tell us what you know about the queen's death."

"T-The queen, s-she died?" stuttered Dodoria. The horrid news stunned him, although the full consequences of this incident had a hard time to dawn in his fright and liquor clouded mind.

"She died of a cowardly act of villainy. She was poisoned." The general came closer to his prisoner. Steel cold eyes buried in his formidable features shimmered in the pale moonlight.

"I-I have nothing to do with this, I-I s-swear!" pleaded the captured man dimly, clearly sensing now what the commander wanted to elucidate to him.

"The last meal she consumed came from your kitchens. "

"For fuck's sake! I've served her highness more then loyally for many years! Why are you accusing me of all people of this horrible crime?!"

"You could have been bribed to poison her. Assisting our enemies in a scheme to murder the young prince."

"I will never do such things! I'm entirely faithful to the royal family! Besides, what proof do you have to accuse me of this! It's absolutely preposterous!"

"You are known to have accepted inducements before, Dodoria. Selling out important information to the members of the Red council. Don't deny it."

Dodoria fell silent immediately. His heart sank when it became clear to him that his secrete lucrative activities were uncovered. He could already easily be sentenced to jail for it, if had been found out by the king when all of this mess had not happened. Now he was suspected of the murder of the queen, what had once seemed to be a harmless way to earn a bit more cash besides his normal salary could easily become the loaded evidence that his hangmen need to condemn him with. Sweat started to tickle down his large back as sour panic boiled up and reached his throat. Lurching forward, he spewed out his foul stomach contents just in front of the general's feet.

"You disgusting man!" Piccolo sneered and dragged his face close to him after he was finished. The sickening smell of booze and vomit filled his nostrils. "Don't think we will be more considerate with you when you're going to act all ill and vulnerable. The Bardock law of protecting the weak don't apply to scum like you. Now tell me, did you or did you not receive bribes for the murder of the queen and the prince!"

"N-No, I didn't." the Vesuvian replied, his thick lips still smeared with the sour fluid. "I did not conspire with our enemies to kill her ladyship. You have to believe me! I'm telling the truth!" Dodoria's face was pale like that of a ghost, all his previous rage and wickedness beaten out of him.

Piccolo kept his tight grip on the sweating man's clothes. He could smell the repulsive stench of fear lingering around the fat cook like the fumes of his abusive alcohol consumption. This man, he reflected, could NOT be telling the truth. He was far too nervous to be truthful and must be hiding something that could not stand the light of day. Besides, after he had witnessed what the sordid man was capable of, he needed no more persuasion to condemn him already in his mind. Perhaps the fiend needed a bit more help with his confession.

Dodoria winced as the Namek's knee stroke out and hit him again in his stomach. This time, the tormented cook had nothing left in his system to throw up. He groaned and gulped down the air in short breaths, before the general grabbed him by his fat neck and pressed on his air pipe violently. Vegeta, still confined to the spot where Piccolo had pinned him down by his tail, watched with a mixed sense of horror and sickening sweet reprisal how his former master's face became blue and his eyes started to pull white. Gargling noises came out of the choking man's throat, sounding like an animal about to drown.

"Now, tell me honestly Dodoria, and stop lying to me for I'm becoming more and more sensitive to lies. Tell me what you know about the queen's death." He let go of him, and his prisoner wheezed for air before he was able to speak up.

"Why are you forcing me to plead guilty! I didn't do it! I'm innocent! Believe me!"

"It was your task to prepare her ladyship's final meal that had taken her life. How could you be unaware of her poisoning while you have handled her diner from the beginning to the end of the preparations?" The general questioned warily.

"How would I know?! Someone else could have slipped the poison into her food at any time while I was not watching! Hell, I've got over fifty kitchenboys helping me out to prepare the meals. Anyone of them could have done it!"

"You imply that someone else had carried out the poisoning, while you were all unaware of the infamous act in the meantime?"

"Yes! Yes! Exactly! Come to think of it, it could have been that little rat Vegeta who's cowering there behind you! He was the one responsible for the chickens this week! He could have done it!"

"The boy?" The Namek commander glimpsed briefly at Vegeta, who had listened to the desperate man's allegations with growing panic and dread. He threw himself on his knees in front of the seemingly inscrutable general.

"Don't you listen to a word he says sir! He's lying! He hates me! He just wants to get himself off the hook by blaming me everything!"

"Shut your mouth you deceiving child! Let me tell the general the truth! Yes, it makes fully sense now! He must have done it! He must have fed the chickens with poison and picked the ones which had survived to serve them to the queen!! He's the murdering rat you're looking for!!"

"It's not true! I've not killed anyone! Please Sir, you have to believe me! He's lying! He's lying!" Anxiety was carved on the child's face. His mind raced to find a way out of this wicked indictment, that lingered like a blood tainted blade above the heads of those who were accused. His will to survive grew stronger then ever before.

Piccolo ignored the boy's plead, and turned his attention to Dodoria, who was somewhat relieved to notice that the commander was interested in his explanation. If he could frame the boy, perhaps there was a chance that he could get away with a minor scratch.

"What do you mean Dodoria. How can blame this child for the queen's assassination?" asked the Namek agitatedly.

"I was about to cut off the little bastard's hand for stealing, before you guys came. Last weeks delivery of poultry counted fifteen hens. There were four missing and I blamed it on the boy's gluttony. But now I come to think of it, he must have tried to stuff them full with poison to assassinate the queen. Some of them must have perished from the toxin before they could be served, but two of them ended up on her dinner table. That's how her ladyship came to her end! You filthy, ungrateful hellhound finished her off, didn't you? You vicious little murderer!!"

"I didn't kill her my lord! Honest! Don't listen to that man!"

"How much did they pay you, kitchenrat? Enough to buy yourself a scratch of bread? Hey? Your kind will even sell their own mother to the devil if they had chance! Stuffing yourself full with food that is purchased with tainted money!" Dodoria sneered, his believe in his own version of the truth increased while he was spitting out the stream of immoral lies that sealed the boy's doom. He watched with content how the Namek general ordered his soldiers to restrain the child, who was absolutely mad with fear by now and kept pleading for his innocence in a pitiful lament.

Piccolo observed the wrathful man. He could not detect any shame in his eyes that could betray him for telling lies. In fact, the man had grown calm and more confident, staring back at the general as if the words he had uttered had changed everything, strengthening his former rather feeble believability. When Piccolo smiled at him benevolently, the royal cook could not suspect any hidden meaning behind this sudden act of courtesy then that he succeeded in saving his ass from hanging. He returned the general a wide grin that looked more dumb folded then generous.

"So, that's the whole truth according to you, that a kitchenboy had poisoned our queen, in exchange for let we say, a piece of steel bread?"

"I know, it sounds a bit ridiculous, but you don't know this boy general. I vow to you that he's devious little demon, and not the innocent child he pretends to be. Don't let his wretched tears and pitiful cries deceive you. This child must know more about the queen's death."

"Is that so, master Dodoria." Piccolo inquired and eyed coldly at the whimpering child, who had fallen silent except for the occasional quite sob that escaped his trembling lips.

"Yes good sir, the cursed rat had caused me troubles before. He steals. He lies. He beats up the other boys and threatens them while he robs their hard-earned meals directly out of their hands. You must question him about who had induced him to conduct this cowardly act. He can probably tell you the names of those who are plotting the fall of our beloved king."

No, He's lying.Don't believe him, please." The wretched boy whimpered softly, but all the strength to fight against his depraved master's words had left him. He could do nothing but accept defeat and let his head hang low, while the tears rolled down his pale cheeks.

"So, my dear master Dodoria, do you think that I should interrogate the boy?"

"Yes my lord, make this hellish rodent confess to his crimes." Sneered Dodoria wickedly. "Although you'll definitely have difficulty to make him talk. He's a stubborn little rogue. But perhaps, with a bit more persuasion, a cut in the flesh or a castigation with the rod, will aid you to make him speak, my lord."

"You are implying that I should torture this child into confession." The Namek stated. He spoke the burdened sentence without any emotion. His dark eyes were as still as the silvery surface of a frozen lake.

"I would not call that torture, my good Sir. In your hands, which are the acting hands of the law, it's merely a form of corporal punishment."

The repulsive man gave the general a wide, sickening grin. It was a content smile of a wicked sense of achievement for having condemned an innocent child to a certain death. Although the main purpose of Dodoria's fabrications was to save his own hide, the damnation of that yelping kitchen rodent Vegeta was considered as an added bonus. He hated that boy with a passion, always trying to rebel against his authority in the kitchens, and making a complete fool out him this very morning in front of his boys. If the Namek needed a sheepgoat to satisfy the blood thirst of the revengeful Saiyan king, he was more then willing to sacrifice this nuisance of a child.

The general didn't return the man's heinous smile. He just kept staring back at that mad, grinning face, his eyes expressionless but concentrated, like those of an eagle observing an insignificant rodent. Just as the Dodoria started to suspect that his scheme might not have worked, Piccolo seized him by his arm and this time, he tightened his grip around his rubbery flesh with such strength that the Vesuvian could hear the fracturing of his own bones. The obese man let go of a horrid scream.

"I've never heard such depraved, sinful lies in my entire life! You hell bound gutless excuse of a man! How could you tell such mendacities that could ruin an innocent life, only to save your own worthless hide!" The general barked and forced the arm of the Vesuvian into a frightening angle. Again, the man roared loudly, suffering of intense agony.

" I'm truly insulted that you even believed that I will ingest these badly concocted deceptions of yours! What do you hold me for Dodoria, a fool? An ignorant runt?"

"N-No sir! I was speaking the truth, honest!"

Before Dodoria could continue his plead, he was silenced by a ferocious jolt that snapped his jaw like a dry piece of firewood. The large man whimpered agonizingly, while a coppery taste filled his mouth and fluid tickled down his chin. Although he still seemed to make efforts to speak, his words were completely incomprehensible, drown in vicious pains and an warm gush of his own blood.

Piccolo was about to strike out at the man for a second time, when his anger subsided and the red haze that had obscured his vision cleared. He gazed at the injured, crying man, and noticed the blood that tainted his hands. Silently, he cursed himself for losing his patience. His intention was to make this villain speak, but now he had injured the fiend so severely that he was obviously unable to provide him with any useful information for at least several days. He bold his hands into fists anxiously, while Dodoria watched him with fear struck eyes, expecting that the general was about to give him a second bashing. Instead, Piccolo straitened his attitude, and stepped away, leaving the cowering man leaning exhaustedly against the wall for support, before he collapsed into a pink pile of shivering misery.

"These conscienceless cowards just tick me off." he said, almost excusing himself for his uncontrolled outburst of rage. His men didn't react to it. The general had all the right to lose his patience with this revolting man. Not only his lack of moral and his fiendishness with which he had accused the boy had declined their tolerance towards the villain, it was primarily his plainly visible cowardliness that turned these hardened soldiers against him. His lack of dignity in defeat sickens even the youngest of soldiers in their company.

"General, we found this hidden under a lose floorboard." A soldier handed him a wooden box, framed in steel. A heavy set of chains was wrapped around it and was secured with a robust looking hinge lock. The general blew the dust from the surface. He seized the lock and pulled it off. Wide grew his eyes as he inspected the contents of the small cachet. A small fortune in silver and golden coins, gemstones and diamonds was contained in this humble container. It was a treasure large enough to satisfy the appetite of a modest king, and it was obvious that a ordinary kitchen chef like Dodoria could had never obtained all this by merely keeping a thrifty household. Piccolo scrambled trough the glittering mass. He took a handful of riches and held it in front of Dodoria's eyes.

"I don't think you are capable to make clear to me right now where all this comes from, but you better have a good explanation for how you have obtained it. I don't have to point out to you that I find this highly suspicious."

The muted man responded with a series of anxious, unfathomable sounds, which general ignored. He ordered two men to take the man into custody. Dodoria was staggered, emotionally and physically, and after a few feeble attempts to defy his arrest, his resistance died down completely after the militants used their clubs on them. He was carried away silently, like a heavy lamb to the slaughter.

Vegeta had observed all this with a liberating sense of relief. It occurred to him that the general had merely acted being ignorant in front of his former master. The cunning man had seen through his dishonesty from the beginning. It was with a feeling of wrathful enjoyment that he had witnessed his master's ordeal. The man was wicked, and deserved in his eyes after all what he done, no better fate but the one that the commander had bestowed on him. However, the gruesomeness and the violence with which the man's interrogation was carried out, had disturbed him. It wasn't that he believed that the man deserved any better, but the brutality of the soldiers, to treat a fellow man they have just met with such ruthlessness as if they were not dealing with a conscious being at all, had made a profound impression on his young soul. He did not understand how these men were capable of all this cruelty, and secretly he knew that it was wrong, although he could not ignore the overwhelming sense of sweet retaliation that nursed the deep wounds that his heinous master had inflicted.

The young boy was startled as the soldiers bought him to the imposing man, who had rid him from master's tyranny. A thought passed his mind to thank the general, but he could not bring himself to pronounce the words, for his tongue seemed to be stuck and his mouth dry. He tried to move his lips, but what should have been a well articulate sentence expressing gratitude sounded more like the weak yelping of a frightened animal. He swallowed an arid lump in his throat, and his cheeks flushed red out of an unexplainable sense of embarrassment.

"What shall we do with the boy general? The soldier who held him inquired. "And what shall we do with the others who have been under the suspect's care?"

Piccolo reflected shortly before taking his decisions.

"Bring the other boys to the royal physicians and let them go through a thorough health check. If they resemble anything like this kid we have here, they must be neglected terribly by that conscienceless piece of shit. Let the maids take care of them and make sure they are fed and clothed. When all that is attended to, we will see where we can send them. As for the boy -"

Piccolo paused for a moment and his eyes gazed at the barred window, which cast a striped shadow upon the dark wooden floor. Although he was turned away, he could feel the eyes of the youngster sting in his back. He did not want to look at the boy when giving this order to his men. It was not that he disliked the child or believed him to be wicked for his previous display of total lack of compassion towards his master. He could understand it. He could imagine what kind of hardship he had been trough. However, for the sake of finding her ladyship's assassins, he was forced to take a decision that was against the morals he had fought for all his life. It was injustice, for he believed sturdily that the boy was innocent, but there was something much more significant at risk here then merely the well being of one small boy.

If the words of Dodoria turned out to be true after all, he did not want to take the risk of losing an important lead of the case.

"And the boy sir?" asked the soldier.

"Take the boy into custody as well." said the commander, his face as impassive as always. Guilt stabbed his heart when the boy begun to shout immediately, pleading him that he was innocence and that they had to let him go. Strengthened in his sense of duty by many years of disciple in the Saiyan army, and hardened in witnessing greater wrongs and sorrows on the battlefields, the general was able to withstand Vegeta's pitiful cries. However, as the soldiers tied the boy down by his wrists and carried him out like a criminal, Piccolo had a hard time to convince himself of the rightfulness of his decision.



~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The vaults where Vegeta was brought into were dark and damp. Trough the haze of his tears, the flickering of torches that illuminated the hollow pathways with dim light, seemed like disrupted images of suns burning in this embracing darkness. The boy was silent. His head hurt and the rope around his wrists cut trough his flesh. The soldiers who had delivered him here were gone. They have handed him over to a large, sweaty man with a wart teased skin. He wore a pair of dirty slackers and nothing else besides a black mask that obscured his whole face, leaving two holes in the fabric for his eyes.

To the seven-year-old Vegeta, he looked much like a hangman.

The man didn't say much, and did not react to the child's occasional whimpering. He directed him harshly down several staircases. The stench of urine and mold hung in the air. Rats fled away under their feet. The boy winced, as the mad cries of unseen tortured souls grew louder in their descend to hell.

By the time they reached his cell, Vegeta was completely numbed by fear. The silent keeper tossed him inside. He untied his wrists, only to cuff them to a short chain secured to the wall. He did the same to his ankles, after which he kicked a heap of hay that had been lying in the corner of the cell into his direction.

"It's cold down here, use this to cover yourself."

Vegeta didn't answer. He crawled with his back against the brittle wall, and once again pulled his knees up against his stomach. With a blank expression on his face and with his eyes staring into darkness, he started rocking back and forth. His lips moved, as if he was whispering to himself, but he made no sound.

Long after the keeper had left, the empty movements of his lips begun to carry words. First softly, as a whispering breeze, but it became loud and clear till it finally resonated through the walls like the screams of the damned that filled this dark, God forsaken place. It was an endless lament of a young mind gone mad.

"I've not stolen the chickens - I've not poisoned the queen - I've not stolen the chickens - I've not poisoned the queen - I've not stolen the chickens - I've not poisoned the queen -"

The boy survived on these words alone. He could no longer shed tears about his wretched fate, for even the sense of sorrow had abandoned him. All he could do was perform these monotonous actions. It seemed to calm him.

At midnight, when most of the frenzied cries in the dungeon had died down, a mad howling came from Vegeta's prison.

"And what if I had stolen those stupid chickens! - WHAT, IF I HAD STOLEN THEM! - I WAS STARVING!"

"I WAS STARVING!!"





NEXT CHAPTER: TWIST OF FATE

In a desperate attempt to escape his prison and a certain death, Vegeta is forced to commit a bloody act that will condemn him to a most gruesome fate.

Next chapter will be posted on mediaminer.org and fanfiction.net, the 28th of December 2001.

Meanwhile, please review and rate the story. Tell me what you think about the last chapter and what should be improved. For those who are still in the cheerful spirit of the season after my silly little tale, Have a warm and memorable Christmas!

Pan.