But it is the Curse of Greatness, that it must step over dead bodies, to create new life
—Thou
“Come on, momma and papa, we’re gonna miss the king!”
The young boy, excitement teeming in his voice, yelled, pulling the large paws of the two Diamond Dogs at his sides. There was a skip in his step, a large grin adorning his youthful, soft face, as his brown eyes twinkled with merriement. The two Diamond Dogs with him had exasperated looks, surprised by the strength of their small child, though their hearts warmed at the sight of his joy.
“Ease up, Mazbeth, we won’t miss the King’s passing,” the male said, his large frame and short brown fur hidden behind his modest tunic and vest, tail wagging behind him.
“Oh, come now, Raynard, let our young one have his fun,” the female replied, her cream coat shining in the bright sun of the afternoon,” pups, will be pups, after all.”
“I know, Jadine, I just don’t want to lose him in the crowd. It looks like the entire capital is here!”
Averting his eyes from the gaze of his loving mate, Raynard looked around at his surroundings, taking in the breathtaking view of the glorious Capital city all around him. Cottages and houses and buildings of all kinds encircled the city, bricks of stone red adoring the walls. Amongst the streets of cobblestone filled to the brim with Diamond Dogs of all kinds and breeds, vendors and artisans lined the sidewalks, peddling their wares and creations.
House and clan banners fluttered in the noon breeze, manned by soldiers and knights, their squires and attendants at their sides, all here to represent their leaders, and pay homage to the king, who was returning from his greatest victory yet.
Raynard smiled a deep grin, tightening his grip on his son’s paw.
Was it a paw?
He never could really tell what his son’s appendage was called, being that he did not know exactly what his son was.
Ever since he and his beloved mate found the young child wandering the Sullen Forest, the great forest bordering the Everfree’s northern edge, they were befuddled to the species of their adopted pup. He was young, no less then two, scared, and crying over the bodies of two other similar creatures. All three of them had brown skin, with dark brown locks of fur atop their heads. The two older ones were clearly dead, bodies maimed by gods’ know what, while the child wailed in sorrow and fear.
The hearts of the pair tore at the sight, and throwing caution to the wind, took the young creature with him, raising him as their own, alongside two of their older pups.
As the boy grew older, members of their clan within the Capital City grew to know and care for the child as well, and within his fifth birthday, was adopted as full member of Clan Pyrite. They named him Mazbeth, in honor of their clan’s first Diamond Dog Knight, a title the boy grew to love, and inspire him down his own path to seek glory.
“Come on, papa, you’re falling behind.”
Shaken from his thoughts, Raynard turned down to see his young son, both of his “paws” grasping his, a pleading look in his eyes.
Shaking his head, he grasped Mazbeth in his arms, swaying him on his shoulders, causing him to giggle.
“Come on, little one, let’s go get a good spot,” Raynard responded, ruffling the fur on the top of his head,before taking the paw of his wife.
“Do you think Kay and Poppy will be there by now?” Mazbeth asked, thinking of his older siblings,”I can’t wait to see Kay in his sparkling armor! I want a set when I get big enough!”
“Wouldn’t you wanna be merchant like your papa?” Raynard asked his son,”merchants have adventures, too.”
He struck a heroic pose, Mazbeth holding on to the shoulder straps of his cloak, laughing gleefully.
“You’re silly, papa. Merchants don’t get to fight and save princesses!”
Mazbeth turned to look at all the knights and soldiers, admiring the shine of the polish on their armors, the sharpness of their spears and swords, the fluttering of their capes and flags.
His own clan’s banner proudly waved in the breeze, showing the first Alpha of Pyrite in full plate, adorned with the finest jewels and metals that he had amassed in his conquests, the massive Sword he weilded firmly grasped in his gauntlets, while the a crescent moon lay beneath his feet.
His namesake.
A name he knew one day he would bring glory to again!
“There’s a good spot right their to stand, Reynard,” Jadine said, pointing to an empty spot by the side of the road,”We’ll get a great view of Kay marching with his troop, and Poppy could see us there when she comes with her friends.”
Reynard kisses his wife along the side of jaw, giving a tender stroke along her ear.
“Good eye, honey,” he said, eliciting a small laugh and a blush Jadine, causing Mazbeth to gag.
“Ew, don’t do that when I’m right here,” he cried, a look of disgust crossing his childish face, causing both of his parent to laugh.
“Mother, Father!” A feminine voice called out to the trio, causing them to turn their heads. Parting through the groups of various gatherers, a pure white Diamond Dog female approached, a happy spring on her strip, as her flowing gown of green fluttered. A wreath of wild flours encircled her mane, as she flashed a smile.
Putting down Mazbeth, Raynard turned to embrace his beautiful daughter, spinning her around as he had done before when she was a much smaller pup.
“Glad you could join us, Poppy. I thought you would be with the rest of your friends on the north side of town.”
“I know, but the market decided to pop up over here, since most of the crowd is gathering for the procession,” she replied, after giving her mother a hug of her own,” Has Kay come by yet? The procession is already moving up the King’s Road, and King Ector is not far behind.”
“Not yet, but we’ll see him soon. Our banners having marched yet.”
Poppy smiled and nodded her head, before leaning down and placing a kiss on Mazbeth’s cheek.
“And hello to my too, my cute little cutie patootie,” she said with a small giggle, causing Mazbeth to grumble even more.
“I’m not cute, I’m almost ten! I’m practically a grown up!”
“We’ll, you’re my cute little grown up, then,” she responded with a sickeningly sweet smile.
Mazbeth loved his sister, deeply and dearly, he may add, and swore when he was old enough to swear that he would always protect her (even a young boy such as himself knew the troubled teenagers could get into), but sometimes, he really hated how affectionate she could be.
One day, Mazbeth would be a knight, and he couldn’t have people be lovey dovey towards him! He had to be tough!
But for now, he would fold into the embrace of his older sister, as she wrapped her arms around him. Only to make her feel better, of course.
He didn’t really like her hugs.
Right?
“Oh, look, there he his!”
Mazbeth’s head shot up and turned towards the spot his mother pointed at. He heard them before anything. The loud stomps of armored paws, the sound of clanking plate and clinking maille. The echoing cheers of the crowd surging in glees of ecstasy.
The king was coming, and his Brother was marching behind him!
Besides his namesake, it was Kay that inspired him everyday; to be brave and strong, to be a knight of King Ector’s court. Kay became a squire around the same age Mazbeth is now, and now, at nineteen, proudly bears the emblem of his clan etched into his shield, marching with the rest of the army as a Knight of the Gem Vale.
Seeing his beloved brother march in line filled Mazbeth with such pride and love, that we couldn’t help himself. It almost was like his feet moved on their own.
“Mazbeth, wait! You can’t just run out there!”
He felt the precense of a paw reach out to grab him, but it was a second too late as Mazbeth burst from the crowd, stumbling a bit and falling to his knees, before sprinting back up to his feet in his youthful optimism, and running towards his brother.
“Kay! Kay!” He yelled, seeing his brother, a broad shouldered Diamond Dog, his dark brown fur barely visible beneath his shinging plate armor and sea blue cloak draped over his shoulder.
Kay turned to the voice calling to him, seeing his younger adopted sibling running towards him, the noise barely audible amongst the fanfare of the procession and the screaming of the crowds. How his brother managed to squeeze through all those Bossk was beyond him. He felt a firm paw on his shoulder, shifting his gaze to his left, to see that it was the paw of the King.
“Isn’t that your brother that you mentioned about before, Kay? The one you call your little knight?” King Ector asked, a small smile on his face.
Kay blushed in embarrassment at the pet name he let slip during one of his many training sessions with the Ector.
“Uh, yes Milord, that’s my brother, Mazbeth.”
“Mazbeth, eh? That’s a strong name,” Ector remarked, bringing his gauntlet enclosed paw to his chin in thought.
“Indeed, Milord, he bears that name proudly,” Kay replied, a fond grin adoring his muzzle. His little brother adored the title given to him.
“Let ya stop the procession here, I wish to greet some our folk, and meet this little warrior of yours, Kay,” the king said, rising a paw into the air to signal the stop of his entourage. The procession behind him, many different Bossk alphas and nobles, as well as his best company of soldiers all halted in place, awaiting the company to proceed forward again to the royal palace.
“Milord, is that a good idea? You’d be to exposed our here in the open,” Kay protested, a hundred different scenarios going through his head,” the commoners could meet us at the palace like intended.”
“I’m sure that my best and brightest can protect me,” Ector said, glancing and waving at the crowd as he began to walk towards them,”unless you have reason for me to doubt your abilities?”
“No, My King!” Kay cried in protest, shocked the that his lord would say such a thing to him. Ector merely laughed, patting the side of his head.
“You worry too much, Knight Kay. Come on, let’s meet your brother.”
Mazbeth was in disbelief, as the king and his brother, as well as a whole platoon of Bossk knights walked towards the part of the crowd that he was with. The king would stop and shake paws with various individuals, patting shoulders, evening giving out the odd coin or two. Mazbeth would’ve been the first to run out there and greet him, if not for the fact that crowd grew so large and tight, that he could barely fit between their legs.
He could vaguely hear his parents and sister call out to him, their voices drowning with clamor and noise, but he ignored them, he just needed to get a little closer, he just needed too—
“Make way, make way! You there, boy, the king wishes to see you!”
That voice couldn’t have been talking to Mazbeth. He turned his head to see if the knight that was shouting was calling to some other pup behind him, but he saw no one.
“You, hairless one, come now!”
He was talking to him!
The crowd seemed to part as Mazbet was lead through, excitement welling in his young body. The knight with him was stoic and quiet, with a face of stone as he marched forward. That was posture that he would have to practice when he got home.
Finally, they came to a stop before the rest of the knights, before Mazbeth barreled towards where Kay was standing, Kay bending down to one knee.
“Big brother!” Mazbeth shouted, wrapping his small arms around the gorget on Kay’s neck. Normally, Kay would’ve been embarrassed, especially since beautiful ladies of the court were not walking far behind and observing the scene with interest, but Kay ignored those feelings this time, instead encircling his brother in his arms , careful not to hurt him with the plate armor he had on.
“Hey, my little knight,” he chuckled, deeply, releasing him and looking him over,”shouldn’t you be with mother and father?”
Almost right on time, Raynard, Jadine and Poppy barreled forward, as well, panting shallow breaths.
“Max-huff-beth, don’t run-huff-off like that again’!”
“It looks like a while family reunion, Kay,”The king chuckled at the sight of the flustered family, who noticed who they were in front of, dropping to their knees and bowing their heads.
“Milord, forgive the intrusion” Raynard exclaimed, lowering himself even further,”my son meant no offense stopping your procession, he just wanted to see his brother, your grace!”
“Rise, sir, it’s alright,” Ector replied with a bemused grin,”you are Raynard of Vivia, are you not?”
Raynard’s head rose in shock.
“You know of me, my king?”
“My good merchant, the whole court knows of you and the swords you sell. I’m wearing one right now,” Ector laughed, moving his cloak aside to show a large, bastard sword strapped to his waste; its goldenhilt wrapped in fine red leather, with a blue sapphire engraved in its pommel. A sword both beautiful as it was deadly.
“Milord, I—I’m honored that you know my work!”
“You make and sell quality steal, Raynard of Vivia, take pride in it,” thevking replied before bending down to kneel in front of Mazbeth.
“And you must be the little knight I’ve heard so much about,” he said with a gentle smile. All the bravery within Mazbeth had fled, as he hid his body behind the leg of his brother.
“Y—yes my k—king,” he replied in a stutter, lost in the calm, yet fierce eyes of his ruler. Eyes, that even his young mind knew that commanded respect.
The king reached out a paw, and slowly, but gently, ruffled the hair atop his head, a gesture which seemed to ease the nerves that Mazbeth had built up. He moved from behind his brothers leg before taking a knee in front of the king.
“My Lord,” he stayed with as deep a voice he could muster, striking his fist against his chest in a salute, eliciting chuckles and smiles from the knighs and King.
“Rise, little warrior. You bear a strong name.”
Mazbeth sprung to his feet, making as much as a heroic stance that he felt looked appropriate.
“I wear that name with pride, my king! One day, I’ll be the greatest knight this kingdom has ever seen!”
The king grinned broadly, a booming laugh escaping his jaws.
“I don’t doubt that, little knight. With that attitude and a name like yours, you’ll do your clan proud, and bring glory to our kingdom. Maybe one day, you’ll fight by my side like your brother.”
Mazbeth felt his heart swell at that, emotion catching in his throat. What he wouldn’t give to fight by his brother’s side, for the kingdom he loved, and for the good of it’s people.
“But you’re missing something,” the king said, before reaching towards his side, and detaching a small dirk dagger, twirling it his paw, before slowly, almost religiously offering it to Mazbeth to grasp.
“Every knight needs a sword, little warrior. This dagger is called Trust. Trust it, and it will Trust you. This not a toy, but the greatest tool a knight will have. I hope you’re brother will teach you to use it?”
“Of course, my king,” Kay replied, he and his family touched by the gift of the king.
Mazbeth grasped the dagger in both hands, his face in awe and wonder.
His first sword.
He felt tears threatening to leak from his eyes. He couldn’t help it. He reached up and hugged the king as tightly as he could.
Ector’s face flashed with surprise, before his warm choke resumed and returned the embrace.
“Thank you my king! I won’t let you down! I promise!” Mazbeth mumbled into the cloak, the linen beginning to stain from the boy’s tears of joy.
“I know you will, little knight.”
The king released Mazbeth, nodding towards his family before resuming his place at the front of the procession and marching forward again. KY caressed Mazbeth’s cheek one more time before following his king, walking off into the distance before their group was beyond sight.
Mazbeth felt Poppy bring him close to her, as she and his mother and father lead him back into the crowd. He knew they were saying things to him, but his mind was elsewhere, to the land of his dreams, where he stood in golden armor at the king’s side, a hero and loved by all.
He smiled and walked, stroking his sword as he and his family entered the crowd.
Trust it, and it will Trust you.
Those would be words he would never forget.
Author's Note
Well, since I’ve updated In the Kingdom of the Blind after an incredibly long hiatus, I’m back with another story that I’m gonna try and update along with it. There will also be another story that will connect with these two that I have planned, and though each story will have its own plot, there will be an over arching narrative that connects all three. At least that’s plan. Like and comment if you enjoyed this and would like to see more, and please, point out my shitty grammar, because I know I’m terrible with that 😅
Nine years later....
"Mazbeth? Mazbeth, please, answer me!"
Mazbeth could only see blackness surrounding his vision, as a throbbing headache echoed in the his skull, dully thudding in discomfort. He could hear the pulsing of the blood vessels in his head beat, almost hypnotically, as he refused to open his tired, sagging eye lids. He knew it was his sister that was calling him, even subconsciously he could tell her melodious voice apart from anywhere, but his painful headache and sore body demanded rest.
"Mazbeth, please say something to me!"
He couldn't refuse her anymore, slowly tearing his eyelids apart, sealed by the sand of sleep, and attempted to lift his "paws" up to rub the irritants from his eyes, yet was met with a stiff movement from his arms and the rattling of chains. His eyes shit open at once, as he let out a loud gasp in shock, thrashing his arms rapidly in a feeble attempt to remove the iron shackles from him. Trying to kick, he noticed that his legs were also shackled to a creaking, old wooden floor.
"Hey, keep that shit down, some of us our trying to sleep here!"
"Yeah, do you want the Slave Driver to send guards back here?!"
Tearing his head upwards, Mazbeth turned to see where exactly he was. All around him, lined up on two long sets of benches, were different species, ranging from Griffons, Diamond Dogs, even a few Equestrians and a Changelings, all sitting in what seemed to be a giant cage. And not just any cage, but a moving one, as he could tell by the bumps be would feel every time a rock or hole in the road they were traveling on was struck. Turning sharply to his left, in the row across from him was his sister, Poppy, as well as his brother Kay.
Poppy was staring at him, a deeply troubled look on her face, the beautiful white fur on her cheeks matted with tears and dirt, the dress she wore and filthy. Kay was looking at him to, his once brilliant and shining armor so thoroughly polished and pristine discarded for torn and dirty rags, his black paws tightening in anger.
"Maz, are you alright?" He hurriedly asked, shaking slightly in an attempt to test his own iron bonds.
"Ugh, yeah, I think," Mazbeth replied sluggishly, as his eyes tightened again when another wave of pain crashed through his skull, "My head hurts like hell, though."
"You're bleeding, sweetie," Poppy replied in a whimper, trying to reach out her paws to grasp his, but the shortness of the chain attached to her wrists prevented her from the contact she desired.
"She's right Maz, those bastards hurt you!" Kay snarled, once again shaking his chains in frustration.
"Hey, calm the hell down over there, you're just bring attention to us!" A minotaur shouted from down the line at Kay's loud attempts at struggling, "You'll get one or more of us killed!"
Kay wanted to shout back at the damned bull, instead settling himself down in an uncomfortable silence as the wagon continued on. Mazbeth finally realized that the side of his was slightly damn, as a small drop of blood dripped from the tip of a strand of hair, and dropped into his lap. He wanted to grab his head and place pressure on the wound, but the chains prevented him from doing so. He could only lean his back against the sides of the cage and once again close his eyes, and try to think. To think about all that happened.
"Are you two alright?" He asked his siblings, as he tried to keep the grief out of the tone of his voice.
"I'm a little ruffed up, but fine for the most part," Kay responded, his tone tired and fatigued, "I can't say the same for my squad, though. The Minotauri barely left any of us alive."
His gaze hardened at the mention of his doomed squad of Knights. The last few days had been nothing short of hell, even since The Seven Towers were breached on the Northern border, and to be taken as a Minotauri prisoner at that! Kay felt a deep sense of shame at the abandoning of his post, of his brothers-in-arms, but he had a choice to make, and he made it. A choice that lost his honor, his title, and soon enough, his family.
"I...I'll live," Poppy replied, trying to fix the tattered remnants of the dress she once wore.
She remembered when she first got that dress with her mother, the last time that they visited the capital with their father. Kay was already a Knight by that point and Mazbeth was in the process of squiring for one, so she was allowed to get even further acquainted with the family's business practices, in hopes that she would one day take over the trading network. Closing her eyes, she recalled the stroll her and her mother took, walking amongst the buildings and shops of the capital, Arkon, and seeing the dress in one of the boutique's windows. It was a simple dress, but there was beauty in it's simplicity, and when we tried it on, she loved it. It was a reminder of her mother, of her family, of the life she was ready to live.
And not it was a tattered mess, mud splattered and worn, all radiance of it's previous beauty ruined by the treatment by the paws of the Minotauri. It wasn't just a torn dress, but was a symbol of a life she may never reclaim.
She began to softly weep, for her herself and for her family, and all the dead that littered her home village.
"W-what are they gonna do with us?" She asked with a sharp sob, leaning against Kay for comfort. Mazbeth's heart tore at the sight of his beloved sister so hurt and broken, and unable to offer any comfort of his own, besides empty words that would mean nothing.
"Most likely we're heading towards the slave market in Treajen," An older griffon responded from his seat, looking towards the trio of siblings, "I take it you lot were taken in a raid?"
The reminder of the attack on their home, the sacking of their village and the pillaging of their mines crushed the siblings even further, drawing more tears from Poppy's eyes and renewed struggle by the two brothers two escape their iron bonds. The pounding in Mazbeth's head returned once again with a renewed vigor, as he thrashed about in retaliation.
"I see," the old griffon murmured, shaking his head softly, causing the chains that surrounded his body to clink dully on the floor, "I'm sorry that this happened, but there's no use tuckering yourselves out. We still have a long way to the capital."
"And to be bought and sold like livestock," Poppy wept, wringing her paws together as she buried her snout into Kay's shoulder. Several of the other slaves looked to the young Diamond Dog female with pity, each also dep in their own sorrows at their situation.
"Where's mother and father?" asked Mazbeth, looking around for the two older Diamond Dogs amongst the crowd of slaves, but unable to find. Fear welled up in the pit of his stomach at the thought of them being killed.
"Please, please, tell me they're still alive! Please!"
"Maz, calm down!" Kay barked in an attempt to soothe his brother, cursing the chains that help him back from comforting him, "They're in the wagon behind us. We're part of a whole slave caravan, so they couldn't them here with us. Hopefully we'll see them soon."
"These bastards better not have hurt them!"
At once, the wagon came to a sharp, sudden stop, sending some of the slaves crashing into the bars of the cage with a painful thud. Confused, the slaves turned to look as three large Minotaurs stood in front of the cart, backs turned to the prisoners inside. The two smaller Minotaurs carried long, curved lances at in their paws, each adorned with a single leather pauldron, extending down the length of their left forearms, as well as short, armored battle skirts, refined with strips of metal paint. The larger of the three, or so the trio of siblings thought, was fearsome to behold. His short, dark blue fur was covered in tattoos and brands, each depicting eithers words in the old Minotaur language, or depitctions of battle and war. The large Minotaur stood a towering eight feet, a head taller then his two companions, adorned in various pieces of hardened, hyrdra leather armor, and a large, ghastly helm upon his head, covering his face completely.
Only his eyes could be seen through the helmet, bright and blue, a stark contrast to the armor and scars upon his body.
"So, you are sure of this meeting, then?" The large bull asked ones the smaller ones, "You see no deception in this adventure of yours?"
"Father, I'm completely sure!" The small one replied, his long braided pony tail saying in his excitement, "I've met this Abinchova griffon a few times, selling swords and such to him. The Northern Rebels have the coin."
"I think it's a fool errand, and you're going to get yourself killed, Abban," The other bull replied, leaning upon his spear for support as he adjusted the thong on his sandal.
"Oh, shut up, Dethen! At least I have the balls to go seek out my fortune!"
"Your balls are the size of mustards seeds!"
"Take that back!"
"SILENCE!" The Minotaur bellowed, rattling all in the area. Several armored guards rushed up, their battle skirts and chain mail rustling as the dashed up, before they halted by the large one' s paw, ordering them to back down. Mazbeth could only watch as the guards left to return to their posts, trying his best to get a good look at the commotion behind him, the chains forcing him to face the opposite direction.
"What's happening?" He whispered to Kay, who sat with a hardened glare at the large Minotaur.
"That's the one who led the attack on the village," He replied, as he gazed at the trio with a fury he could barely restrain, "In the capital, he's simply dubbed Luke the Drifter. He's the Minotauri Empress's personal Slave Master, who drifts through all the borders of the Empire's lands, and raids villages for prisoners to collect."
"The Slave Master is here in the flesh?! Five kingdoms have a bounty on his head!"
"Quiet, you idiot do you want them to he--" The older griffon interjected, before the loud stomps of hooves approached the sides of the cage. The prisoners all began to huddle in fear as the great bull, Luke, peered into the cage. His bright blue eyes scanned the group of chained slaves, all diverting their gazes to the floor boards of the cart, expect for the dark brown eyes of Kay, Mazbeth, and the older griffon, you matched his stare with ones of their own.
"Humph, you see that, sons? Now that takes balls," The bull said with a short laugh, his two sons looking at the defiant prisoners with outrage at their disrespect.
"Should be beat them father for their insult?" The smaller one, called Abban, asked, turning his spear around and bashing the end of it into the back of Mazbeth's head, causing Mazbeth to let out a grunt of pain as he was forced forward. Poppy let out at yelp as her little brother sagged forward, Kay snarling at the three Minotauri. The three bulls could only look at the lot with bemused smirks at their helplessness.
"Nay, leave 'em be, they're of no worth broken before market. They're up for a lifetime of suffering, anyway, so let 'em have this."
"I swear, you'll die for this one day, you piece of shit," Kay barked, tears if rage gleaming at the corners of his eyes as beheld the unconscious form of their brother, more blood dripping from the wound on his head.
Luke narrowed his eyes at the Diamond Dog, challenging his look of fury with a face of nonchalantness that betrayed what he felt at the remark. The bull's "mercy" was at his end, and never suffered a slave to back talk to him with such impiety. He'd have to do something about this, before other slaves get the same idea.
"On second thought, bring those two, and the freak, as well as the parents. We gotta make an example out of this."
"Of course, father," he smaller bull Dethen replied, before sharply whistling for the other guards, "Bulls! Bring these three pieces of filth out of their cages, as well as the Great Raynard and his mate. We gotta show to put on!"
In a rush, the gates of the cage are torn open, and four additional guards entered inside, forcefully shoving past prisoners until reaching the trio of siblings. Raising fists, they began to beat Kay down, forcing him into Submission, as Poppy tried her best to place herself in front of her brother, in an attempt to take some of the blows herself.
"Please, don't hurt him anymore! We'll go quietly," She cried, blood running down her lip, before she and Kay were forcibly ripped from the chains that held them, and dragged outside the wagon onto the grass of the field the wagon train had stopped in. Before they could begin to unbuckle Mazbeth, Luke stopped with a loud rang against the metal bars of the cage with his scimitar.
"On second thought, leave that one right where he is. I want him to see this from right where he is, in a slave's box."
"Yes, sir," They responded, rechaining the locks back onto Mazbeth's feet and wrists, and slamming the cage shut with a loud clang. Outside the cage, Kay and Poppy lie on their knees, turned to their bleeding brother barely moving in his imprisonment, before shouting from their left grabs their attention. From the other wagon, a chained Raynard and Jadine, both bound with chains, were dragged by Dethen and Abban, and forcibly shoved on their knees next to their children.
Raynard's tunic and trousers, once pristine and handsome, were as dirtied nd torn as the other slaves, as were his jewelry and clan ring confiscated and placed into the slavers' treasure stockade. Jadine's dress was also torn and dirtied, her jewelery as well stolen and stored away. Reunited, the family leaned against one another, elated to be partially together again despite the situation.
"By the Old Gods, are you two alright?" Raynard exclaimed, trying to her encircle his children despite his bound paws.
"Where's your brother?" Jadine shouted, as the guards came forth and separated them again, cruelly kicking Raynard to the ground. Poppy and Jadine screeched in response, as Kay tried to cover his father with his body, snarling at the guards.
"Don't break that one, he's the one the Empress wants," Luke said, walking towards the family, "Wake the freak up, I don't want him to miss this."
Mazbeth, teetering on the edge of consciousness, jolted in shock as ice cold water drenched his body, followed by the harsh laugh by one Minotaur guards. Shivering from the cold, with old blood washing down the side of his face, Mazbeth gasped loudly as a large paw grabbed the back of his head, and forcibly turned into towards the fields outside his cage.
His whole family lay kneeling beneath the spears and polearms of several Minotaur guards, as the one called Luke stood before them, a jagged and chipped scimitar drawn and clutched tightly in his paw.
"This is one of yours, Bossk," Luke remarked, turning the scimitar in his grip and showing it to Raynard, who avoided the look of the large bull, "Had commissioned years back, when the Empire was barely expanding westward. Did you ever think you'd see again, yet this time at your neck?"
Raynard let out a sigh, before raising his eyes to meet the bull's.
"And why are we here? What do yo want with me and my family?"
The bull twisted the sharped edge of the scimitar under Raynard's chin, the sound of it scraping against the fur of his throat almost deafening to the children, before remarking to him.
"You are who the empress requires, smith. Your family was just a bonus, caught in the raid and meat to sell to others. Your boys, though, said somethings that I don't like to hear, so I think a lesson is in order."
"Please, don't hurt them," Jadine wailed, tears flowing from her eyes at the thought of her children maimed, "Do what you want to me, but please not my children!"
The bull regarded her plea for a moment, before walking over to Kay. Kay stood in defiance to the Luke, his body stern and posture straight, befitting the knight he used to be. The blue eyes of the bull looked down, seeing the rebellious form of the Dog at his hooves, lowering his jaw to speak to him.
"Your mother's brave to say that, pup, and I'll indulge her request. Now's the chance to say your goodbyes."
"Wait! Please! No!"
The bull left the side of Kay, and moved back towards Jadine, his scimitar gleaming in the light of the moon as he angled it upwards. The family watched in horror as Luke placed the blade at the base of Jadine's neck. Mazbeth could only watch as his mother kneeled, waiting for the fatal strike. Her eyes met his, tears running down her cheeks, as she offered him a small, comforting smile.
"I lo--" Her voice was cut as the blade of the scimitar carved through her flesh and bone, her heading falling to the ground with a soft thud. The screams of the family pierced the night air, as Luke brought a cloth to the blade of his sword, and wiping Jadine's blood from the steel.
"Maybe you'll learn a lesson in humility, boy, because that, that right there, that was true sacrifice."
Kay, Raynard and Poppy could only cry out in horror, staring at the lifeless corpse of Jadine sprawled on the floor. Mazbeth's eyes were still locked onto his mother's, who's dull irises bore a hole into him. The light in them that belonged to his mother were gone, and could only cast a dull reflection of the suffering around the wagon train.
"Alright boy, you said you were to head up north to meet this griffon fellow," Luke said, turning away from the grieving family and back to his sons, "Well, take one of the wagons, as well as those two with you, and try and squeeze a good price from them. You have my blessing n this venture of yours."
Abban grinned at his Luke with excitement, rushing up to embrace him in a strong hug.
"Thank you, father, I won't let you down, and I'll return with gold and more when I come back! I promise!"
"I know you will, boy, I love you. Go with him, Dethen, and keep 'em out of trouble."
"Yes father ," the replied, before grabbing the two siblings and dragging them to the last wagon at the end of the caravan, "We'll make you proud, sir."
The two siblings screamed, fighting and struggling against the grip of the Minotaur, staring at the corpse of their mother, and their father and brother that were being left behind.
"Father! Mazbeth!" Poppy yelled, before a rag was stuffed cruelly into her maw and held in place by a long strip of dirty cloth, muffling her screams.
"We'll find you! We'll find you again," Kay managed to exclaim before his speech was also silenced, before Poppy and himself were thrown and locked into the back of the cart.
"Remember boys, It's a week until you reach Allerseen, so be back in three, to prepare for the next raid. I'll take the rest of these lot to Treajen, and we'll meet at the House Primordial. Take care you, two."
The two young slavers waved off their father, diverting two carts of provisions, twelve guards, and the muffled screams of the prisoners, as they departed up the Northern Road and beyond Luke's line of sight.
"I wish those two well," the old bull mumbled to himself, before turning back to his remaining guard. He observed the quiet, traumatized form of Raynard still at is feet, offering him a strong, quick kick to the chest, "Get this scum back in his cage and get us moving again. We've still got another day of travel until the slave markets."
"And what of the dead one, sir?" One of the guards asked, pointing to the body of Jadine on the floor.
"Ah, just leave it there, some scavenger will want it. Wouldn't wanna cheat them out of a meal."
And with that, Luke the Drifter returned to his position at the head of the raiding party, and reset the pace, causing Mazbeth's wagon to jump and shake once more. Mazbeth never took his eyes off the corpse of his mother, as she became enshrouded with dust from the wheels of the cart, and drifting off past eyesight. Even when they were league beyond, he didn't stop looking.
Something in him died that night; and would leave him with nightmares long after he drifted off into a fretful sleep, replaying the death of his mother again and again. The older griffon chained by him watched the saddened creature with pity, as he gave a gentle nuzzle of comfort to the dark mane atop his head. The light of the next morning would only bring more madness, and the griffon could only hope that they all would be ready for it.
