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Sorry for the delay but I wanted to finish Face Value so I could focus all my attention back on this story.
Please forgive any mistakes.
Enjoy.
"Lord Rossi!" Spencer shouted out in disbelief. "You're alive!"
The enslaved king couldn't believe his eyes. He was so shocked that he didn't even realize that he had jumped off the dais until he was jerked back by the chain attached to his collar. The sudden stop sent him crashing onto his butt on the hard polished stone floor. His fingers grabbed the golden links and tugged at them in an effort to get closer to his old friend.
"Get back here, boy!" roared Charles, trying to regain control over the headstrong slave. The maniacal monarch jerked hard on his end of the boy's leash, pulling the scantily clad young man back toward the throne.
Spencer fought against the backwards pull but months of malnourishment and little exercise caused him to quickly lose the battle.
"No! Let me go," the secret sovereign protested, reaching his hand out toward the man who was his father figure. He wanted to – needed to – touch him. He had to make sure he was real.
The next thing Spencer knew he was sprawled out on his back, looking up at the king's snarling visage. Charles looped the chain around his hand over and over, shortening the lead until there was no slack left. "Don't you ever tell me 'no,' boy! You are nothing. You are an inferior being put on this Earth merely for my entertainment. You will do as you are told or else you will suffer the consequences!"
Spencer nodded his head up and down while he tried to suck in some air between his clenched teeth.
Charles loosened his grip on the chain, "Now resume your position as your station dictates. And don't you dare make another sound or else."
The young man's brain wisely recognized that the king was not making an idle threat and spurred him into obeying the man's commands. He scrambled to his knees and resumed his earlier subservient pose, except this time he didn't bow his head. Instead he trained his gaze on Lord Rossi, desperate to maintain some sort of contact with his resurrected friend.
Unfortunately, Charles was sick of the slave's defiance. The vile king palmed the back of the boy's skull and pushed his head forward so that his chin was flush against his chest. "Head down," he growled before turning back to the surprise guest.
To his credit, Lord Rossi remained stone-faced as he watched the young man that he thought of like a son be dehumanized by the abhorrent monarch seated before him. He knew that Spencer's state would be dire but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. And never in a million years would he have pegged Charles for someone who enjoys the pleasure of male flesh, but before him was indisputable proof.
He cringed internally when Spencer's head was forced down but showed no outward sign. Deciding to take the attention off of the young king he cleared his throat and said with a bow, "Your Highness."
Charles immediately forgot about the boy and turned his focus back on the man he thought he had killed months ago. "Lord Rossi. This is quite the surprise."
A smug smile overcame the Italian's face as he savored the king's contempt for him like he would a fine wine. "I'm sure it is, Your Grace."
"Shouldn't you be dead?" he asked, straight to the point.
"Ha! You'd have thought it…right? I mean, I seriously thought you had done me in too…but it turns out my Italian blood must be stronger than we both thought…well that and you have poor aim. I do think it was probably because you stabbed me in the back instead of straight on like a proper gentleman," Rossi said, purposefully goading Charles.
The courtiers throughout the room tittered quietly at the older man's words, for no one had ever dared to insult the king to his face before now.
The king sputtered at Rossi's blatant disrespect. "Well that is a mistake that I'll have to rectify shortly."
"Perhaps…perhaps not…"
The sound of steel being pulled from its sheath could be heard ringing through the throne room. Charles stood up from the throne and raised his weapon threateningly, "You don't believe I'll do it?"
Rossi barely gave the sword a second glance before looking back at the monarch. "Oh, I know you wouldn't hesitate to kill me…but I know you aren't going to do it right now."
"And why is that?" Charles challenged the seemingly unflappable man.
"Because you have no idea how I survived and why I am here now. On top of that, you're dying to find out what in the world would have cause me to come to Georgia and stand in front of the man that killed my beloved and tried to murder me," Rossi explained knowledgably.
Spencer's hands were squeezing his thighs with all their might, worried that his friend was about to push the king too far. He longed to look up and to watch the battle of wills unfold but knew better than to tempt fate right now. With bated breath he and the rest of the audience waited to see how the king responded to Lord Rossi's rationalization.
Surprisingly, the ferocious sovereign started to laugh. He sheathed his sword and flopped back down on his throne. A malicious smile twisted his lips, revealing his rotting teeth. "By God, you're right, old man. You are right."
The closeted king let out the lungful of air he had been harboring; his friend was safe for now.
"So, get on with it. Tell me. Tell me everything," Charles demanded.
Rossi kept his brown eyes completely focused on the fanatical man and spoke his next words carefully. "Your Majesty, I am here by order of the king. He would like us to negotiate a truce and construct a contract that would join our two kingdoms together in the name of progress. He believes that with your wit for battle and his ability to plan, you two could conquer the whole continent."
The room was completely silent for a few moments as each and every individual was busy digesting the neighboring Lord's words.
Spencer, who had lifted his head when Rossi had mentioned 'the king,' looked at his friend in confusion. He couldn't fathom what had prompted the older lord to come here and lie to Charles about negotiating a truce. And there was no way he could keep up this ruse because Quantico's only king was sitting enslaved next to the Georgian ruler. How did the old man envision all of this playing out?
"The king? The king sent you to negotiate? Ha! First of all, I know for a fact that you have no grounds with which to parley to begin with. I took over your kingdom! My men are running all of Quantico in my name from the king's very own castle. Second, that coward of a Spencer Reid never once came out to meet me man to man. He ran away like a chicken from an axe. So even if you did have anything left that I could want I would never consider collaborating with that fucking child that King Derek left behind to rule in his stead," Charles said in a grandiose fashion.
The young king bowed his head downward once again, hiding his cheeks as they reddened in shame. He was a coward and his months of hiding behind the lie that his mother had concocted only proved it.
"Well, Your Grace, not everything is as it seems," Rossi declared.
"And what is that supposed to mean?"
The older man cleared his throat, "Perhaps this is a conversation we should have in private, Your Highness."
"Stop stalling, Lord Rossi. Just spit out whatever it is you think I need to know," Charles commanded.
"As you wish, Your Highness," Rossi said with a hint of a smile. "The first thing that you need to know is that the men you left behind failed to maintain control over the castle and its subsequent lands. Our men seized back our dominion not too long after you left."
"Impossible," the king roared. "I have been receiving biweekly status updates from my own right hand man."
"Yes, I know you have. Trust me when I say that Sir Buford is easy to persuade. He really didn't put up too much of a fight when he was instructed to write out those letters word for word as the king or I dictated," Rossi explained with a smirk.
"You mean – "
"Exactly. You haven't had control of Quantico since you left. We've been sending you false missives while we rebuilt our forces and strengthened our fortifications."
"You lie!"
"We thought you might say that…so as proof I have brought along a few of the soldiers that we detained. I'm sure any one of them will be happy to corroborate my story…except I seemed to have left them back at camp. I'll be sure to bring them along the next time we meet."
"You smug son of a bitch," Charles roared. "There isn't going to be a next time because you won't be leaving here alive. I'm going to chop you and your men up into itty-bitty pieces and send them back to that spineless king with a letter of my own. Then, I'm going to gather the rest of my forces and march upon your precious castle once again. Except this time we will raze it down to the ground and kill anything that moves. And when I find King Spencer I will string him up by his neck and hang him from the tallest tree, leaving him to rot and decay while the buzzards pick at his remains. His putrefied corpse will serve as a reminder to the people of Quantico of what happens to anyone who dares to defy me! "
Rossi was unmoved by Charles's threat. Instead of blanching at the intimidating words he merely swept his hands out wide and said, "While you may get away with murdering me and my men, I doubt that King Derek will just roll over and let you usurp his country."
Spencer's head snapped up at Derek's name. His honey-browns went as wide as saucers as his mouth moved on its own volition, "He's alive? L-Lord Rossi, Der-King Derek is alive?" the heartbroken youth called out to his friend desperate for the man to confirm his lover's existence.
For the first time since he entered the room, Lord Rossi acknowledged Spencer. "Yes, kiddo. King Derek is alive and well."
Tears traitorously welled up in the corners of the slave's eyes. He was about to ask how it was possible when the king reached over and grabbed his face, squeezing his cheeks in between his thumb and fingers.
"I thought I told you to shut up?"
Spencer struggled against the man's staunch grip. "I-I'm sorry, Y-Your Grace," he forced out as the king's digits dug into his skin.
"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Charles snarled, jabbing his fingernails into the white flesh until it yielded beneath them. "Raphael, get this whore out of my sight. Take him back to my chambers and make sure he understands the meaning of silence."
The quiet room watched as the king's infamous slave was hauled out of the room by Charles's brother. Rossi, who had struggled to remain silent while witnessing Spencer's abuse, just raised his eyebrows at Charles.
"Was the child that insufferable for the queen too?"
"The young man has always had an issue with knowing when to hold his tongue," Rossi said.
Charles grumbled an indiscernible response before addressing the epic news that the man before him had revealed. "So, King Derek is alive?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Apparently Sir Buford didn't stick around to make sure his hit was true." Rossi was dying to add that the knight, much like his monarch, must have shitty aim but he knew better than to push the crotchety king at this point.
Charles tented his fingers and furrowed his brow, "Lord Rossi, I will admit your revelation has intrigued me…so much so that I am willing to allow you to live for just a little bit longer."
"You are very gracious, My Lord," Rossi said with a hint of sarcasm.
Ignoring the other man's slightly mocking tone, the king continued, "I would like for you to go back to your camp and get my men. You will release them back to me and I will have them questioned. If they verify your claims than I would like to extend to you a dinner invitation. Together, over a flagon of wine and a suckling pig, you and I will discuss the finer details of King Derek's survival and his wishes to negotiate a truce. But, if even one of my men contradicts your account of these events than I will follow through on my earlier threats."
"Of course, Your Grace. I wouldn't have expected anything less from one as wise as yourself. Now if you will excuse my men and I, we will head back to camp and retrieve your men. Then I will personally escort them back here to the castle and await my fate – be it supper or execution," Rossi said with a courteous bow.
The old man did not wait to be dismissed; rather he stood back up and turned heel, walking out of the throne room without another word. He managed to keep his face impassive as he and his men made their way out of the palace.
Once they were safely away from the stone walls of the castle the Italian let out a giant whoosh of air. "This is going to be harder than we thought," he admitted aloud to no one in particular.
Raphael was merciless in his handling of the young slave. He had no qualms about dragging him by the leash through the halls and didn't care at all that the youth couldn't keep his feet underneath himself. By the time they had reached the king's bed chambers Spencer's legs were scraped raw from rubbing against the stone floor and he was struggling for breath due to the pressure on his throat.
Sprawled out on the floor gasping for breath, the young king knew he was about to endure a horrible punishment for disobeying Charles's order but he didn't care. His heart was about to burst with joy.
Derek was alive!
"What could you possibly be smiling about?" Raphael bellowed upon seeing a goofy grin curling slave's lips.
Spencer quickly wiped the smile off his face but couldn't make his heart stop singing with joy. "N-nothing, My Lord."
The formidable man towered above the captive and gave him a skeptical look. "I've never seen a prisoner excited about being punished before…"
The genius focused his eyes on the floor and tried to appear contrite.
Suddenly Raphael jerked on the leash and pulled Spencer up by his neck, "What are you hiding, whore?"
Spencer turned his head away from the infuriated man and pursed his lips together, refusing to divulge the secrets of his heart.
"Now is when you choose to stay quite?" The king's brother growled, furious that his intimidation tactic hadn't cowed the young man into speaking the truth. "Have it your way, slave. The king told me to teach you the meaning of silence, and teach you I will."
Raphael turned the lanky youth around and pushed him toward one of the pillars of the four poster bed. He forced Spencer to face the wooden support as he took the chain in between the boy's willowy wrists and attached it to a hook embedded in the post.
Raphael traced his calloused fingers down the slave's pale back, his digits caressing each scar disfiguring the kid's skin. "I doubt the king will be able to stand the sight of you when I'm through. Now keep your eyes forward and don't move a muscle."
A shiver flowed down Spencer's spine at the man's words. He squeezed his eyes shut and strained his ears in an effort to figure out what was happening behind him. The silence in the room was deafening as the captive king waited for his punishment to be doled out.
CRACK
The sound of the whip's snap hung in the air before a loud wail pierced the air.
"Now that's just the first of ten – but every time you even let out a whimper I will add another stroke to your punishment…which means we're starting back at one," Raphael proclaimed before pulling back his hand for the next strike.
CRACK
He tried. Oh, how he tried to keep his mouth closed and his shrieks of pain locked in his throat but the burning pain of whip's tail tore them past his lips.
Raphael sniggered, "Back to one again."
CRACK
"Oh, that one's going to scar," the knight taunted with glee as the young man before him broke down sobbing. "Now enough of this sniveling. We haven't even gotten beyond one yet!"
Spencer felt his legs give way beneath him with the next strike but somehow he managed to keep the whine that wanted to break free secured in his gut.
"That's it boy. Only nine more to go," laughed the loathsome man.
Another lick of the whip tore through is skin but this time Spencer's only reaction was a gasp for breath. The stinging torture was becoming too much for him so his fragile mind decided to protect itself. And so throughout the rest of his punishment the boy's brilliant brain pushed back the scream inducing pain and instead filled his mind with thoughts of reuniting with his beloved.
Hmmm...so this story is funny because I seriously plan out what I want to write and then when I'm halfway through penning my ideas they decide to change. So, I am toying with a few ideas for the next chapter...either it's going to be Rossi and Charles having dinner or I'm going to skip ahead to Derek's arrival...heck, maybe my muse will fit in both along with a hurt/comfort scene with Tobias consoling Spencer after his punishment. I guess we'll have to wait and see.
Till then!