Chapter 9 – Evacuation

“The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane.”

– Titus Aurelius the ‘Philosopher King’, Augustus Imperator of the Inner Sea Imperium

 

“Anna must’ve snooped in on you and His Lordship two days ago.”

Luna heard the apologetic mumble from Alisa, the junior maid, as the latter helped tie the laces behind Luna’s waist. The first rays of dawn could still be seen through their attic window. The two maids were only preparing to start their day.

“You tried your best. It can’t be helped.” The Samaran maid consoled. “Did she say something?”

“I heard her laughing in the servants’ hall last night, between telling steward Vitomir and the others and…” Alisa’s tone then fell to a hush, “trying to imitate the sounds that she claimed you were making.”

Luna could feel her cheeks catch fire as though they passed over a furnace. She had known this was a likely possibility. Anna, the newest maid, was not only gossip-prone –something Luna already disapproved of– but she also had far too much curiosity. Together, she made an excellent informant for Vitomir even if she wasn’t actually one of Count Nikola’s spies.

“She also said… does His Lordship really like to do it from behind–?”

Luna grew mortified as she spun around and covered her junior’s mouth with her palm. A quick shake of her head made it evident that she didn’t want to hear anymore about it.

The mousy, sixteen year old maid nodded in understanding. Yet the moment Luna’s hand left, she continued the topic with a cheeky smile:

“Is His Lordship at least a good lover?”

How am I supposed to know!? Luna exclaimed in her thoughts as she looked away in embarrassment. According to Kalyna and his reputation? I guess? She then nodded faintly, her face now completely red with fluster.

Seeming excited by this reply, Alisa’s eyes beamed as she clearly wanted to know more. Meanwhile Luna grew desperate for a change in topic. She had about as much real experience in this as those raised in a nunnery!

After a quick scan around the room, she found her answer on top of the small desk that the two shared.

“I almost forgot,” Luna virtually leaped away from the junior maid as she retrieved the tiny piece of parchment on the table. “His Lordship received this yesterday. Though by the time I returned, you were already asleep. It’s a letter to you from an elder in your village.”

“Why would they send me a letter?” Alisa frowned. “I can’t read.”

“Because it asked His Lordship if you could take a few days off,” Luna explained. “Your mother is sick. And with your brother already off to war, there’s nobody at home to care for her.”

Luna knew that Alisa’s father had died years ago in an accident. It was one of the reasons why the girl started working: her family couldn’t afford to pay a dowry, and she would have to earn it herself to receive a decent marriage.

“Oh,” the interest in love affairs vanished in an instant as concern and worry filled the young girl’s gaze. “Did His Lordship agree?”

“Of course,” Luna added as though there could never be any doubt. “I’ll inform the steward later. You should get going before that stingy grouch has a chance to keep you here. And also…”

The Samaran maid grabbed a small waterskin off the table and pressed it into Alisa’s hands.

“I’m not sure what illness beset your mother, but with the season it’s most likely a cold. This is a fairly general-purpose herbal remedy that I hope will help.”

Luna had brewed it last night after everyone else had gone to sleep. It was the reason why she didn’t return until after midnight.

“Thank you so much,” the younger girl’s eyes beamed with gratitude. “Will you be okay without me though? I swear Anna spends more time chatting than working.”

“Don’t worry about it. I can manage for a few days,” Luna smiled. “Besides, family always comes first.”

The Samaran girl suppressed a yawn as she thought about the long day ahead of her. She didn’t mention that it was also extremely convenient for Alisa to be leaving. Konstantin had planned their own departure for later tonight, and it would be best if any innocents stayed out of harm’s way.

…It would not be until tomorrow when Luna found out that this ‘convenience’ was actually a forgery from the young lord.

 

—— * * * ——

 

“Raimund? You here?” Luna asked in a soft voice as she peeked around the corner and into the kitchen.

It was late autumn and night had already fallen. The kitchen was dimly lit by only a few candles, and Luna wasn’t sure if the cook had already retired.

“Where else would I be?”

Raimund grinned as he stepped out of the cellar, the dark and magically cooled room where perishable food was kept. He tossed a fresh onion between his hands as he strode over to the maid. His smiling, green eyes were warm and welcoming as always. It was a clear sign that whatever Anna said about Luna down in the servant’s hall, the cook did not look down upon the latter for it.

“Here, I brought you something,” Luna handed over the wine-filled silver goblet that she’d been carrying. “Imported Campania, from His Lordship. I was accompanying him for a drink, but I don’t even like this taste.”

“Campania?” The cook’s eyes lit up at once as he gazed down on the blackish liquid. “Even I’ve heard of their wine. It’s famous across the Inner Sea! You sure I can have some?”

“His Lordship has already retired,” Luna shrugged. “Be a waste to just leave this be. Besides,” she added with a sweet smile. “I wanted to thank you for all the times you’ve helped me.”

“Well I’m certainly not complaining!” Raimund happily declared before he accepted the chalice and swirled the liquid. He then closed his eyes and took a whiff as though the scent alone could intoxicate.

Luna watched as the cook took his time sipping the half-goblet of wine. She might not understand why people liked such a weird taste, but it was clear that Raimund thoroughly enjoyed it. She rather doubted he was any connoisseur, but it was the experience which mattered. After all, how many slaves could boast that they’ve tasted one of the finest luxuries life had to offer?

Yet even as she gazed upon him, her smile could not stop a wistful expression from showing. It was proving much more difficult than she expected, to hold back her emotions and not embrace the man for all the times he had helped her. Luna wished she could openly express her gratitude or, at the very least, bid him a proper farewell.

However if she did that, then she would be betraying Konstantin’s wishes and plans for tonight.

“What is it?” Raimund still wore a grin as he finished.

“I just… I’ve never seen you so happy over something so simple before,” Luna said as she blinked away the moisture gathering in her gaze.

“Well, it’s the first time you’ve given me a gift for no reason other than my enjoyment,” Raimund noted. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help during the times when I wasn’t feeling well.”

Luna smiled regretfully. She couldn’t deny it. She had always paid far more attention to what people needed, rather than… well, what made them happy.

“Now I wish I’d done this more often.”

“Hey, plenty more chances. I’m not going anywhere,” he gave her a cheerful smile, as though promising that they still had many years together ahead of them.

Unfortunately, the part she hadn’t told him, was the fact she had laced the wine with an infusion. The extract was a sleeping draught she had learned from her mother, which had helped with her own sleeplessness when she was a child. It wasn’t very strong on its own, but it had a synergistic effect with alcohol that ensured the drinker could slumber through a storm.

Farewell, Raimund. I pray that you’ll find happiness in life, Luna could only voice in the privacy of her own mind.

She hadn’t even misled him on her intentions. She had specifically suggested this to Konstantin and even sat him down for a drink so she wouldn’t be lying. Not that it would bother her this time even if she did: she had done this to ensure that her benefactor’s life wouldn’t be endangered tonight.

 

—— * * * ——

 

It was late at night as Konstantin anxiously paced back and forth in his room. He might not have discussed the details until just two days ago, but it certainly felt like he’d spent years preparing for this moment.

He looked to his bed where all the items he intended to take from his room lay bundled and packed. There also sat Luna and Milosh, and to see both of his two slaves in the same room was a rare sight. The elderly Milosh rarely emerged from his small utility room in the residential wing’s far corner.

The old scribe and bookkeeper was fifty-six years of age and a commoner nearing the end of his life. He had gray eyes surrounded by wrinkled lines from a lifetime of servitude. His hair had already turned entirely gray as it reached past his shoulders, while his back had developed a noticeable hunch.

Konstantin knew that Milosh had been enslaved by nomadic raiders when he was just six years old. And now, after a half-century there wasn’t much that could entice him. The scribe wanted a quiet end to his life and Konstantin had made him a promise. It was part of why the young lord trusted Milosh to keep the ledgers, which was the easiest place to discover that Konstantin had been secretly squirreling away his fortune.

The young lord then felt the magic stir as a powerful spell locked onto the stone anchor he placed just a few paces in front of his crackling fireplace. His arms tingled as his nerves felt the ‘pressure’ change in the flow of ether in his room. It was as apparent to him as a migratory bird might sense the approach of a storm. He instantly spun on his heels to face the source.

As a mage, Konstantin was constantly drawing in ether from the environment through his senses. This ‘unrefined magic’ would be carried through his biological network of neural pathways. Then, in his soul and the heart of his spiritual being, the ether would be slowly transformed into usable mana which would later be shaped into spells. This refined mana, however, had to be retained within the body or special receptacles, as prolonged exposure in the open would cause it to degrade back into unrefined ether.

A crack of flames in his fireplace made him blink, and the instant was enough to miss it. In one moment, there was nothing but air. Then a split second later, three figures stood on top of the stone tiles as they let go of their joined hands and turned to face him.

It was Drazhan and the two druzhina Konstantin first met that day in the forest. The young lord has since remembered their names, though this was definitely not the first time he had seen the three of them together.

“Drazhan, Kazimir, Dalibor,” the young lord nodded to each of them in turn, making sure that they also knew he remembered their names. “You three are just in time. But where’s Katya?”

“She’s with the wagons,” Drazhan answered. “Lady Katsiaryna found Your Lordship’s secret exit a little too close to the road for comfort. Dalibor here will set fire to the room before accompanying you through the tunnel out. Meanwhile me and Kazimir,” the two young druzhina turned to each other and smirked like wolves. “We’ll go kill the guards and make it look like mercenaries raided this place.”

“Spare the other servants if you can,” Konstantin ordered sternly before his tone plunged to below freezing: “but don’t hesitate to kill that bastard of a steward Vitomir.”

He didn’t miss the shocked gaze that came from Luna. Even after four years of being bullied and starved, it was clear his maid still objected to the killing of Vitomir.

“Your Lordship!” The maid broke her silence. “Steward Vitomir is a civilian!”

It caught Konstantin off guard for a second. Luna might often debate with him in private, but he couldn’t even remember when she last openly disagreed with him in the presence of others. Even when they failed to see eye-to-eye, she had always been careful not to undermine him.

“He’s a spy, and he deserves a spy’s death.” Konstantin warned in a harsh and frosty tone that left no room for debate. He then sent Drazhan a nod that told them to get going.

“Yes, Your Lordship,” Drazhan nodded as he drew his arming sword with one hand and a throwing axe with the other. “We won’t kill anyone but the guards and the steward. Unless they run straight into us, at which point we’ll have no choice.”

He exchanged a look with the other druzhina as he placed his palm on the door handle.

“Ready?”

“Ladies first,” Kazimir smirked to the brightly-dressed Drazhan.

“Yet I still wear the pants better than you!” Drazhan’s smile returned as he opened and rushed out the door.

Meanwhile, the third druzhina, Dalibor, gave a respectful salute to Konstantin.

“I’ll bring up the rear, Your Lordship.”

Konstantin nodded before walking to the cabinet and exerting his strength to push it aside. He then moved to the stone wall and pressed his signet ring into a small depression. For a moment it didn’t seem to do anything, but as seconds passed four cuts in the wall began to form as though swords were slicing through rock. By the time it finished, the edges of a stone door could clearly be seen.

The young lord pushed the heavy door open with effort, before turning around to add:

“Dalibor, please help my elderly bookkeeper after you’re done. The stairs in the tunnel are rather steep.”

He didn’t miss the disapproving stare that Luna gave with her sorrowful gaze.

 

—— * * * ——

 

From the forest outside his manor, Konstantin watched the scorching flames fill the windows with a stiff gaze. The raging inferno would consume everything in the residential wing, including any possibility of recovering dead bodies. Only the stone construction of the manor, as well as the wing’s distance from the other rooms and windows, kept the fire from spreading.

“Kostya,” Katsiaryna interrupted the young lord’s thoughts as she stepped up from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You all right?”

Konstantin sent his childhood friend a brief, forced smile. Katsiaryna was the opposite of Luna — she had zero talent for reading others and usually ran at her own pace. However, that didn’t mean the girl lacked empathy, as she also knew him long enough to understand that he often yielded to nostalgia. Though his current emotions were… far more complex than simply a switch between ‘all right’ and not.

How should I feel… when I’ve just torched my own home?

Konstantin knew the emotional stillness he felt was unnatural. However this also wasn’t his first home-burning. As he watched the present fires consume the residential wing, he could almost hear the distant screaming echoing from his memories.

He still remembered how he watched from a distance when mutinous streltsy battalions stormed and sacked his family home in the capital over seven years ago. He could recall the dying cries of men as they were hacked to pieces, the tortured screams of women as they were seized by the rebellious troops.

It didn’t matter whether it was the Apraksin household druzhina or visiting bureaucrats, whether it was a lowly maidservant or a noble lady. The rampaging streltsy soldiers slaughtered any man or boy they encountered. The females fared even worse, as most of them had been raped before they were murdered. The streltsy then pillaged and burned their way across the entire complex, departing only after their wagons had been loaded up with all the plunder and ‘trophies’ they could carry… which happened to include the severed head of Konstantin’s father and brother.

It was a scene that had replayed itself in Konstantin’s dreams again and again, waking him up in the middle of the night every time. His eidetic memory had always been a ‘gift’, yet in this instance it tortured him over countless nights with vivid moments and horrific sights. Even now, to see a real inferno and hear the echo in his mind… it felt like the present was but a pale imitation of his memories.

Kostantin turned away from the fire and glanced towards the wagons, where Luna sat by a giant roll of bedding that they had pulled from his bedroom. She was the only one who knew of the nightmares that still tormented him once a fortnight. She was also the one person whom he could trust to make the lavender infusion which he occasionally needed in his wine to induce sleep.

Yet, at the current moment, she was still ignoring him. Her cheeks were turned the other way as her fingers twirled her hair’s side-tail. Even though Konstantin knew that she must have sensed his gaze.

The three wagons that Drazhan and Katsiaryna had brought along were already half-loaded. Six extra druzhina had just emerged from the shadows of a half-dead oaken tree trunk, where the exit to the underground tunnel had been hidden beneath dirt and leaves. They hauled sacks –some enchanted and some mundane– full of gold, weapons, and other goods from his secret chamber in the manor, including his packed clothes.

With his home abandoned, these treasures would be all that remained of his parents’ legacy to him. He still had some family assets in the banks’ vaults. However those would be off-limits for the foreseeable future, as accessing them would leave records that could be traced back to him.

Stop ruminating about what you can’t change, Konstantin heard the scolding of his inner thoughts. The journey is only just beginning.

“I’m fine, thanks,” the young lord steeled himself as he finally responded to Katsiaryna with a brief nod. “What’s happening?”

“Drazhan messaged that he has killed the steward and seven of the guards. The last two are nowhere to be seen.”

“Leave them be,” Konstantin ordered. “If they cower in fright now, they’ll certainly exaggerate to Nikola about the ruthlessness of the raid that ‘killed me’.”

“What do you think Count Nikola will do?” Katsiaryna asked next in her usual fast speech before she uncharacteristically stopped. It was probably because she had to relay his orders via Battlecomm — a mid-ranged communication spell that wasn’t easily disrupted by magical flares like Telepathy, but also didn’t require continuous concentration like Farspeak.

“Won’t he just order his men to search for you anyway?” She finished a few seconds later.

“I doubt he’ll completely believe it,” Konstantin replied. “The Streltsy Revolt was far worse than this little act, and I still managed to survive with my life. This manor had been in my family for generations and was sure to have hidden escape routes. However, that traitor Nikola also lack the manpower to seriously search for me.”

“Because most of his men are away on campaign?” Katsiaryna surmised with a tilt of her head.

“Not only that. You’ve probably already heard that Nikola stayed behind from the campaign because he’s sick with gout?” Konstantin looked towards the young lady who nodded in response.

“Yeah. I heard he became an alcoholic since the Iskar War and fattened into a walrus.”

“Well, I neither know nor care what’s wrong with his personal life,” Konstantin stated in cold contempt. “But his lands are no less ill than he is. Two nights ago a suspicious fire broke out in Boh which set an oil and wax shop ablaze. It spread so fast that it almost reached the city’s granaries before the guard’s mages could contain it…”

“Accidents happen.” Katsiaryna shrugged before challenging. “How is that an indication of illness?”

I see journeying the Inner Sea hasn’t sharpened your political senses much, Konstantin frowned before he took a breath and started to explain:

“Because these ‘accidents’ are happening far too often, Katya. I heard from Sachka that just last week, an important stone bridge in the city of Dnipro collapsed while a supply convoy was crossing. At first, the debris made it looked like the cause was shoddy construction and poor materials. Except when they investigated the engineer and the supplier, both had excellent records for safety and quality.”

“Okay? Two–”

“Katya, let me finish,” Konstantin interrupted her this time. “There have also been ‘accidents’ in the other principalities, such as the collapse of a sky temple in Dwina, the jamming of the canal locks by thunderstruck trees in Seym and Dnipro, and a herd of reindeer mysteriously driven mad in Sheksna.” Konstantin shook his head. “One or two might be an accident. But when all these unfortunate events happen, together, in so short a time frame while the Eastlings batter down our doors? That’s no coincidence. It’s a pattern.”

“You think it’s sabotage then?” Katsiaryna was now suspicious, to which Konstantin nodded.

“The Eastlings are not the first to utilize this type of hybrid warfare. The Dawn Imperium in the east even enshrined such subversive activities in their treatises on geopolitical strategy. Before an invasion, the attacker will send agents to infiltrate their enemy’s lands to spread distrust, disunity, and chaos. Who knows how many spies, saboteurs, rumormongers, and arsonists have already entered the Federated Principalities?”

Nor is such behavior limited to nations at war, Konstantin’s thoughts added. He still remembered that one of the reasons behind the Streltsy Revolt was a vicious rumor spread by enemies of his father, the previous Grand Prince. They claimed Radomir had secretly converted to Trinitian belief and was pushing Polisia to abandon their old gods as part of his reforms.

The young lord then shook his head to clear away his old anger. “They chose to hit us in ways that would seem the most ominous: a sky temple of Dievas, the Stormlord’s thunder, even the reindeer spirits of the arctic tribes’ shamans. Countless rumors have already begun to spread, some going as far as to claim that the gods have abandoned us and that the Eastlings are the ‘Heralds of Ragnarok’.”

“Bring it. I’ve always wanted to be a Valkyrie,” Katsiaryna’s small lips twisted into a slight sneer.

“Yes, well, we can’t win a war if Polisia starts crumbling first. And that’s why I say Nikola won’t have the manpower to search for me,” Konstantin stated with confidence. “He may be a traitor to my father but he’s no fool. Most of his druzhina and militia are already away with the army. The remaining men will be too busy playing guards and robbers with the Eastlings. Who knows, he might even conclude this was done by Eastling-hired mercenaries to sow fear! Now wouldn’t that be irony?”

For a second Katsiaryna did not reply. Her prior sneer transformed into a frown as though she found it all annoying. Then:

“How do you know all this anyway? I thought you said you spent most of the past few weeks cooped up in your room?”

Konstantin turned to the lady and smirked in the shadowy light.

“I snuck out last night and teleported to Boh for a few hours at the taverns. Over the years I’ve built a cover identity as a merchant named Kostadin Alexandrovich Arkhipov. Not the first time it came in handy for gathering information.”

As it often happened, Konstantin blended several truths and one lie together to form a more convincing explanation. He did teleport to Boh last night, and he did move about under Kostadin’s name with a few cosmetic touches to his appearance. However, his main reason was actually to visit an upper-class brothel. He just happened to meet several traveling merchants there and swapped some useful information.

But Katya doesn’t need to know that, Konstantin thought to himself. He didn’t need the girl whom he saw as a little sister to use this as ammunition in a future argument.

 

—— * * * ——

 

It took all night for the group to travel from Konstantin’s manor to the training camp. By the time they arrived, the first light of dawn had begun to shine over the horizon. Thankfully, the camp was still mostly asleep when they pulled in. The druzhina drove the covered wagons all the way up to the new cottage, hidden just inside a small patch of trees. There, they began to unload under the cover of a Veil illusion spell, which Konstantin cast over the immediate vicinity to make the items being unloaded look like mundane supplies.

This was another reason why Konstantin had asked Anton to send only his most trusted men. Greed was a difficult urge to control when one lived so close to another man’s barely-guarded riches. The young lord needed every gold coin to equip the men with armor, weapons, horses, and wagons, not to mention clothing, candles, salt, soap, and countless other basic amenities. Even though the intended goal was a mere eight hundred men in two battalions, Konstantin had concerns on whether the money he had at hand was enough to cover everything.

As Konstantin walked up the pebbled steps, he frowned as he examined his new place of residence. He had to give Anton and Father Mikhail credit for finishing it in just two days. But to call his new home a ‘cottage’ was far too generous.

It was a simple wooden structure with stone foundations and had only four rooms and three windows, the latter made of crude, green-tinged ‘forest glass’. There was a modest room inside the door with the raised cross-section of a tree for a table. A bedroom to the side was just large enough for a double bed with room to walk between clothing cabinets. The other bedroom was actually an adjoining cabin for Milosh, while the last ‘room’ was little more than a short walkway to the latrine. The building also sat on top of a dirt-floored basement, which would serve as Konstantin’s impromptu ‘treasury’.

Beggars can’t be choosers, Konstantin sighed deeply as he finished inspecting his new residence.

Meanwhile, Luna was already moving in and began to spread his bedding over the new, two-person bed frame. The maid had been silent during their entire trip, and Konstantin was growing tired of it.

Closing the wooden door behind them, Konstantin pulled out another Veil runestone and activated it. He would ward the place properly later, but for the moment this illusion spell was enough to ensure that anyone attempting to eavesdrop would hear only the most mundane chitchat.

“Are you angry at me?” Konstantin asked.

He didn’t realize until after he said it: his fatigue and irritation had hardened his voice like stone. It was as though he remarked you have no right to be.

“Not angry, just… disappointed,” Luna answered in her soft, airy voice as she continued to fix the bed.

“You were fine with me ordering the other guards’ deaths. Why not Vitomir?” He asked in wonder, though his tone remained frosty.

Realizing that she couldn’t avoid the topic, Luna exhaled before she stood straight and turned to face her master.

“Father Misha once said that ‘those who live by the sword, die by the sword’, and it’s a statement that even my mother agreed with. The guards were soldiers under the pay of your enemy. I may not like it, but it’s reasonable to give them a soldier’s death, especially since your politics deem it necessary…

“But,” Luna stressed as she stared at Konstantin with a sad gaze. “There was no reason to kill the steward aside from your personal hatred of him.”

“Vitomir was supposed to be my steward. Yet he turned to spy on me, to manipulate and control me for my enemies!” Konstantin declared in an icy fury that instantly froze the atmosphere between them. “There is every reason for me to kill him! He was lucky I couldn’t display his head on a spike as a warning to the next ten generations!”

His maid’s small lips twisted in a faint scowl.

“But how do you know that Vitomir is a traitor? He could have been loyal to Count Nikola even before he entered your service. He could have simply been acting as his duty demanded.”

“Then that just means he served another traitor and deserved no better!” Konstantin spat. “Nikola himself had been one of my father’s field commanders until he switched sides during the Streltsy Revolt! And for his treachery, his new master Mstislav made him a Count!”

The young man felt his knuckles crack as his fist tightened its squeeze. Images of the atrocities that he had witnessed during the Streltsy Revolt flashed through his mind. The bloody slaughter of so many faces that he had grown up with, the severed heads of his father and brother, the screaming of his dear sister that still haunted his nightmares — there was no way he could forget!

…Nor could he ever forget that it was he alone who survived the disaster, a feat he only managed because he abandoned his own sister to a grisly fate and cowardly ran away.

I will never forgive any of them, not a single one! Konstantin silently repeated the blood oath he had once made to Veles, god of among many things, the underworld. So don’t you dare moralize me!

His teeth were clenched as he stared down his maid with an icy and ruthless gaze.

Letting out a faint sigh, Luna looked down and away from his bone-chilling stare as she muttered. “There’s always another betrayal in politics.”

Konstantin recognized from her tone that there was more left unsaid in her words. Perhaps she was trying to hint that even what he did now could be considered treachery by some. Nevertheless, his usually blunt and honest maid held back her thoughts. She finished with only a wistful comment in her gentle voice:

“Where does it all end?”

To hear her soft and airy voice spoken with such sadness finally brought a thread of composure back into Konstantin’s thoughts. The young lord shakily exhaled and forced himself to take a slow, deep breath. He should not have forgotten that Luna had lost her family to violence just like he did. If there was anyone who could have understood his anger — she did.

Yet, why does she not desire revenge like me?

Konstantin could not understand it. His lips remained scowling as he gazed upon the shadowy visage of his maid. He stepped closer and raised his hand to her chin, before slowly lifting her head until he could see into her crystal-blue gaze.

“I hope I never have cause to doubt you.”

“You won’t, Lordship.”

His maid’s voice was unwavering and certain. Yet even as she said it, there were worries and concerns swirling in her blue eyes.

Is it fear? Or is there something else she’s hiding from me?

Konstantin couldn’t help but remember her anxiety that day in the hidden chamber, when he showed her the map table and asked her for an answer. Years of lies and secrecy had made him uneasy when facing other people’s secrets. It gnawed at him when even his closest companion potentially hid information from him.

“You don’t… believe me?” Luna asked, her eyes full of concern.

“No. It’s not that,” Konstantin answered with a deep frown. “It’s just…”

I really dislike this feeling of doubting you. He concluded to himself.

The young lord couldn’t help but remember what Aleksandr told him the other night. There was no doubt that Luna was important to him, just as she was vital in keeping all of his secrets. If there was even the smallest chance that she might betray him, his enemies would receive enough dirt on him to flay him alive.

Sure, Luna had always been loyal. Sure, she had never once forsaken his trust on anything of importance. But there was always a chance that the two of them might disagree on a fundamental basis, moments like tonight which could open a rift between them.

Thus, from the perspective of cold, calculating logic, he should take all steps to ensure her loyalty. There was no reason why he should not take the final step in consummating his ownership and become her master properly.

After all, a slave in the bedroom was privy to more secrets than any other servant. They had access to their master’s most unguarded moments and most private possessions. They could stumble across or simply overhear all kinds of confidential knowledge. From drunk talk to conscientious confessions, from pillow talk to hidden correspondence, there had never been an effective means of limiting how much a girl like Luna could learn about him, so Konstantin never really tried.

It was just another one of the reasons why he had been interested in a slave like her on the day they met…

Slaves sold for private use were branded with one of the most powerful curse marks ever developed. They were designed with three controlling features to ensure that no such slave could betray their master and bring their owner’s downfall by revealing confidential secrets.

First, there could be no lies, no deceit. The slave’s surface thoughts could be read by their master like an open book, making it almost impossible to hide anything from their owner.

Second, the master could explicitly impart up to three orders, which would be imprinted upon the slave’s will. The effect was in essence a compulsion enchantment, except one so deeply etched the slave had little hope to resist.

Even without the third clause coming active, these controlling restrictions were already far too degrading. The truth was that Konstantin would never wish such a fate upon anyone. It was why despite spending a fortune on the girl, he never did have the heart to activate the curse.

As Konstantin laid both of his hands on Luna’s shoulders, he noticed that the petite girl was trembling. The young lord might not have said anything. However the keen girl clearly had suspicions on where his line of thinking went. And after the cold, angry demeanor he displayed tonight, it was obvious that she feared the worst.

Why do means of control always tempt us? He reflected. Even when it’s to the detriment of those important to us?

Years ago, after he told her the details of the curse at her insistence, he had promised that he would never force himself upon her. Nevertheless, he was the master and she was the slave. If he chose to revoke his word of honor, could she really resist him?

“Luna…” Konstantin exhaled a deep sigh before he slowly pulled her into his embrace. “I promised, didn’t I? Just as I need to trust you, you should have more faith in me.”

He felt the response as the short girl nodded silently into his chest. It reminded him of just how much smaller and weaker than him she really was.

‘You really are terrifying when you’re angry.’ He remembered the words that Luna had once told him. Is it any surprise that I frightened her?

The curse on Luna would continue to lay dormant. This was for the best as Konstantin definitely did not want to set the third function. After all, her type of slave mark also carried a ‘safety’ that triggered upon either their master’s death. Its mana reserves would also be keyed to the master’s mana signature after activation, with the same effect triggering if it depleted after the slave ran away. Its magic which penetrated a pleasure slave’s mind would scramble their memories before it failed, leaving a confused tangle of who, where, when, or even why.

The result was that intimate slaves who lost their masters or foolishly escaped were driven insane. If they were lucky, their brains would hemorrhage from the trauma and lead to a quick death. If they were unlucky, they would be sold to a brothel to live out the rest of their pitiful existence.

Konstantin thought back to Elena, the pretty young brunette in Boh whom he visited in his persona as Kostadin just the other night. He always felt the urge to give the poor girl an extra tip when he was there. Elena had a habit of biting her nails while giggling, even sometimes during sex. Her mind might be broken beyond all repair, but he could at least pitch in to help her live more comfortably.

There’s no way I’d let you become like that, Konstantin promised to himself even as he squeezed the fragile girl in his arms.

 

—— * * * ——

 

“Milosh?” Konstantin accosted his bookkeeper later that day, who sat waiting for an herbal remedy from Luna to soothe his sore throat. “As I’ve promised, I discharge you from all your duties. I cannot actually free you, considering your mark still require periodic mana replenishment. But you’re free to roam about the camp. I’ll try to make your stay comfortable until we return to a town or city.”

“Th-thank you, Y-your Lordship,” the old man replied in between his coughs, before Luna finished his drink and handed it to him.

“What about Raimund,” the girl then asked Konstantin while rubbing the elder man’s back. “What would he do now that his master is dead?”

“The cook?” The young lord had to confirm, as it had been ages since he last saw the servant who worked underground in his kitchen. “I’d forgotten he was a skilled slave. His curse mark won’t simply expire with his master’s death. However, without Vitomir to replenish its mana reserve, Raimund would need to seek a new master before the tattoo began to inflict increasingly painful shocks that might kill him. His best choice would be to find himself a good master who valued his services. I can think of plenty who would gladly accept such a skilled cook. Failing that, he could turn himself in to a town magistrate, who would become his temporary owner until he is auctioned.”

From a lord’s perspective, Konstantin had always found the system of slavery that the Inner Sea Imperium created to be utter genius. Not only did it encourage the soldiers to fight harder for their plunder, but it even enriched the state over the span of decades.

However, as an individual, he saw slavery as nothing less than a gross violation of the natural hierarchy of society: one that should rank all individuals based on their potential, skill, and merit, in rising order.

“If you knew you were going to kill his master, why didn’t you offer to bring him?” Luna inquired next.

“Because I forgot?” Konstantin repeated with a hint of irritation. “Even if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t take him with us. It would be too suspicious. You and I dying in a fire that consumed our bodies? Sure. Milosh? He’s old and on our floor. But the young cook several stories below as well? I might as well leave a parchment behind addressed to Nikola with the word ‘imbecile’ written in my own hand.”

 

 

Author’s Notes

• Those who live by the sword, die by the sword: A proverb based on the Christian Gospel of Matthew, verse 26:52, New Testament.

• Veles: Slavic god of harvest, music, water, trickery, and the underworld. Because of his diverse affairs, Veles meant many different things to many people, from praying for rain and a good harvest to Kostantin’s declaration of revenge.

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