AN: I know, it's been an eternity since I last posted, and I'm really sorry for it, but it is Spring Break (YYYYYYYYYYYYYYEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH) and I'm hoping to get some major work done. I have two projects that I have to take care of but they shouldn't give me too much trouble. I know that I left you guys off in an awful place last time so I'm going to try to make it up to you all. I really need to stop my stupid banter and get to the fic. -.-;
Disclaimer: I don't own the guys, never have, never will…. sigh
Warnings: none really except extreme shortness of chapter…
Italics denotes thoughts
***** denotes scene change
Spoils of War: Chapter 17 (finally ^-^;)
Much to the council's consternation the prince's slave became a bodyguard as well, attending ever meeting. A month after the impromptu ride Quatre and Duo had been forced to take with their slaves Duo and Heero continued them. It had started as a weekly ritual but rapidly changed to an almost daily occurrence. They would race from the stable to the spring cross-country style, jumping ditches, rocks, logs, and the occasional unsuspecting woodsman.
Many long hours were spent next to the spring where Heero and Duo watered and rested their horses as they discussed the recent development in the council and court.
"You have got to be joking." Heero leveled Duo a disbelieving face.
"Not at all. He's the same age as I am, 17…. I think." Duo scratched his head.
"You're not sure about the crown prince's age?" Heero's tone was skeptical.
"Oh, it's not that. Hell, I could probably tell you who was at his birth. You kind of learn those things being an advisor." Duo shrugged. "No, it's my own birth date I'm not sure about. I'm not even Sudestern." Duo laughed.
"Well I had deduced as much from your habits and clothing."
"And you were right… as usual." Duo rolled his eyes. "I'm from the Ouest. More specifically Sudouest. Which is, oddly enough, North of here. Trowa is from the Ouest too, but he wouldn't be able to tell you what part. But…" Duo smacked his palm to his forehead. "you being his partner for two years probably already knew that." The braided boy grinned sheepishly.
"Yes, but I would still like to hear more of yours and Trowa's past." Heero nodded. "How did a former slave, no offense, manage to achieve such a high level of position. I thought it was illegal for current, or former slaves to hold high office in Sudest."
"Well, it all started about four years ago…."
*****
"The advisor and the prince are becoming rather attached to their slaves." A gruff voice stated gravely.
"And what's worse is those insolent slaves seem to be developing a similar attachment to their masters." A nasal voice practically whined.
"This completely disrupts the plan!" a new voice chimed ominously. "What are we to do? Well?"
All eyes turned to the man who was seated at the head of the table.
"Hmmmm," the low murmur barely carried through the shadows cloaking the figure. "Gentlemen, do not get so flustered. This may just work in our favor if we have a little patience. We need to give the assassins an incentive to kill the prince and his advisor."
"How do we do that?"
"Have any of you seen the splitting of a live tree?"(1)
Negative answers met his query.
"Well if you drive a wedge to loosely into the trunk the tree will heal. But if the wedge is driven far enough into the tree the trunk splits completely, making it impossible for the tree to grow back… And we all know it's easier to sever a sapling than a full grown oak." A mirthless chuckle followed the lowly spoken words.
AN: I know, I know it's incredibly short, but I swear I'm working on the next one right away!
Don't hurt me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
1. In days of old they didn't use axes to cut down trees in some countries. That came later. At the time they cut just far enough into the trunk to fit a wedge into it. After that they continued to knock it in until gravity and the trees own weight pulled it down.