Tears of the Neko (4 page)

Damien looked over the new batch of slaves
that Arnett's son, Rhys, was handing bowls of food to. They were
all strong and well-built, perfectly suited for finishing the
construction on the East Wing. Maybe some of them would want to
train for guard duty with Captain Brenner when they completed work
on the East Wing. He noted even the three females looked nice and
hardy and fit. He was sure several of them would probably continue
their service by working the kitchens and as staff of the East Wing
as well. He nodded his approval of Harrison's choices, knowing that
pretty much any slave from the market should be acceptable
anyway.

The hybrids were especially well suited to
helping with the building. Often the males were stronger than their
human counterparts and were more agile, which made them perfect
carpenters.

Damien mused how easily the hybrids had
become a part of their society. While no one knew exactly how they
had been created, there was speculation that an old seer had been
experimenting, wanting his beloved cat to live as long as a human
did, so he wouldn't have to live without him. The result had been
the first neko--or so the legends said. Damien still wasn't sure if
he believed the old tale, but nonetheless, the feline hybrids were
part of their society.

For hundreds of years, humans didn't know
much about the hybrids living in the mountains and forests, but as
forests were cut down and human towns encroached on their habitat,
the nekos had eventually been forced into the human territory. At
first, they were greeted with fear and anxiety by the humans, as
most unknowns are, but their generally pleasant demeanor and
non-aggressiveness eventually won the hearts and minds of the
human-dominated society.

Humans and hybrids lived together in the
towns and cities in pretty much harmony. Just like any human, some
developed trades and business, although Damien still had yet to see
any reach nobility status. But just like humans, the hybrids could
also choose to become a slave if they were unable or, in some
cases, unwilling, to survive on their own without a master.

And so it was that Damien was standing over
the mix of freshly collared human and hybrid slaves, introducing
himself to them. Even though he knew he might not see many of them
very much, since Harrison and Roman were overseeing the
construction of the East wing, it didn't hurt for them to be able
to recognize the master of the estate.

Strangely, he realized, as he looked over the
group, there weren't that many hybrids that worked in his actual
house. He knew there was the one brown-haired one that he saw
occasionally, but most of the servants inside the house were human.
Huh
, he briefly wondered why Roman had distributed the
slaves that way, since Roman and Harrison usually dealt with that
part of managing the household.

Well, he did know that Garin, his head chef,
refused to have them in the kitchen--something about fur shedding
from tails and some such stuff. But other than when extra servants
and slaves were needed for things like large parties, he didn't
usually see them in the house. He wondered why this suddenly struck
him as odd. Perhaps it was seeing the cluster of so many happily
eating their first meal here.

"Good day, sir," Arnett greeted, looking a
little sweaty and flushed. He straightened in the presence of his
formidable lord. The Duke was massive, bigger than both of his
brothers, and the permanent scowl that seemed to reside on the
master's face made him seem even more imposing.

"How are things going, Jacob?" Damien greeted
congenially, aware that Geoff still hovered behind him.

Arnett was nodding quickly, averting his eyes
and then looking over at the new slaves. "Fine, just fine."

"Any problems?" Damien asked, although he
would be surprised if there had been.

"No, no, no," Arnett said a little too
quickly. He waved at the happy group of slaves, talking and
chattering while they ate and drank their fill. "They've all been
collared with the Whitmore Manor mark. And I'll get them over to
the east side soon. We're going to just let them reside over there
now that the kitchen is somewhat functional. So we'll take several
sets of clothes, bedding and such when we head over."

Damien nodded, "Good." He paused. "Are any of
them slated for work in the main house?"

Arnett visibly startled. "What?"

Damien frowned. "Are any of them coming to
the main house? I can walk them there myself."

"Oh, oh, no," Arnett waved. "Harrison said
they were all for the east wing. Although we will probably pull
several of them to work at your birthday party."

Damien grimaced at the reminder of his party.
He started to turn away and head back up to the main house, but
then paused and asked the question that had flitted across his
mind. "Arnett, why aren't there more hybrids working in the main
house?"

Arnett's brows shot up in surprise at the
question. "Well, most prefer to work outside, sir," Arnett said
simply. He had assumed his master knew that. "When we can, we offer
the slaves an option on what type of work they'd prefer, and most
hybrids prefer to have access to the outside, so they tend to be in
the fields. I think Ellis is one of the few who chose to be
exclusively a house slave."

"Ah," Damien nodded. "That makes sense
then."

Geoff laughed slightly at the Whitmore duke.
"You are almost twenty-five years old, sir. You run at least four
plantations and two ports, but you don't know about your own
house?"

Damien grumped at his guard captain. "I leave
Roman and Harrison to that," he grumbled. "I guess I just never
really thought about it much."

"I see," Geoff grinned.

"Maybe when the east wing is finished some of
them might be willing to put up with you in guard training," Damien
snarked back to his guard and one of the few men he'd actually
probably call a friend.

"They would probably enjoy that," Arnett
stated. Then he turned back to the group of slaves, getting ready
to move them along. He watched as Damien and his guard headed
toward the kitchen door. He hoped that Harrison had had the time to
hide his little surprise.

Kayden felt the relief slump from his
shoulders when the tall brown-haired man gave him a reprieve on the
death sentence he had demanded. That one smelled of lemon and
tobacco, and he curled his nose at the combination of scents of the
man called Roman. The blond one wasn't so bad; he smelled of pepper
and jasmine, the one called Harrison.

He didn't want to be any trouble. In fact, he
tried very hard not to, to be as inconspicuous as possible, as
quiet and unobtrusive as he could. He just couldn't help his
reactions to the loud shots.

He closed his eyes and tried to push away the
images of his mother and father falling to ground after sounds like
that, his strong sense of smell sniffing the blood that blossomed
from their wounds. He had tried to crawl over to them, to comfort
them. His breathing was heavy from racing through the forest away
from the hunters. He had paused too long over his mother's unmoving
body, tears slipping from his emerald eyes, when a rope snagged his
neck and tightened.

"He's awful little," the hunter said, and the
man had wrestled him to the ground. Kayden hissed and scratched,
but the men were over twice his size and had his arms and legs tied
with a rough rope. "Do you think we'll get anything for him?"

"We'll get something. Those others were too
old, too feral, anyway. This one's young enough to learn it's place
soon enough. Then we can sell him with the others."

Kayden bit his lip at the memory of his
parents' death and his capture by the hunters years ago. They'd
been right, and they had been able to teach him his place well
enough, almost too well--his captivity had kept him from growing
and made him too skittish of everyone, too submissive to do
anything of use. The memory of the whips, canes, fists, and chains
was enough torture to keep reminding him that he didn't want to be
there ever again.

He didn't mean to scratch the master, and
he'd tried to make it better, but it seemed as if all he did was
upset the brown-haired one called Roman. He rose gracefully to
stand under the direction of the slave master Arnett and followed
the yellow haired man toward a huge mansion.

He'd never seen anything so big before,
besides the forest. He had learned to like the 'inside', especially
in the winter when food was scarce and he felt constantly cold in
the woods, especially in the biting winds. Inside, he was usually
at least fed a little and he didn't usually freeze. Sometimes his
former master at the market would even toss him a thin blanket. He
wondered briefly what his cage would be like here. He hoped it was
big enough to stretch out in; he missed that. He had hated being
cramped up all the time. Unlike the others who shared a huge cage
and could move around and stand in, his had been small, big enough
to sit up in, but not stand or stretch all the way out.

They had almost made it to the door of the
kitchen when his ears perked up at the sound of a horse thundering
across the ground. It took the blond--Harrison-- a few seconds
longer to hear it.

"Shit, it's Damien," Harrison cursed as he
quickly grabbed Kayden's thin arm and yanked him roughly into the
kitchen door.

Kayden had a moment to glance backward to see
a tall dark haired man galloping on his horse towards the stables.
Kayden's breath caught in his throat as he glimpsed the strong,
handsome features of the man.

"Ysmenia! Is the little store room still
empty?" Harrison snapped to an elderly matron wearing an apron.

The entire kitchen staff stared at him in
shock at his sudden appearance, but the servant quickly wiped her
hands on her skirts and nodded. "Yes, sir. It's been cleaned out to
make room for the winter stock."

"Good." Kayden felt himself shoved toward the
woman. "Put him in there quickly."

"Make sure you lock the door good," Roman
commented from his spot at the table where one of the maids was
dressing his wound.

"My Lord," Garin, the head chef, started to
protest at the thought of the neko in his kitchen. "I can't have a
n--"

"He's a surprise gift for Damien's birthday,"
Harrison snapped. "Get him hidden. Damien will be coming in
soon."

Kayden felt his chain passed over to the
woman and followed her to a little storeroom back behind the main
kitchen. There were empty shelves and it felt cool and damp from
its recent cleaning.

Ysmenia looked at him curiously as she led
him in. She was slightly taller than he was, but she had a kind
smile that put him a little more at ease. He knew he must look
filthy after his foray in the slave yard.

"I'll see about getting you some food as soon
as the master is gone. Looks like you could use some," she
commented.

Kayden watched as the door closed and the
bolt was thrown to lock the door. It was dark inside with no light,
but his feline eyes adjusted quickly and he could make out the few
empty shelves that probably stored winter fruits and vegetables.
The room was cool, which would be good for the fruits and
vegetables, but made him shiver. He found a corner and curled up as
small as he could in it, sliding into a fitful slumber.

****

The door burst open, and Damien strode in
with his powerful gait and strong stride. He halted mid-stride when
the kitchen staff all stopped suddenly and he noted that both of
his brothers were also in the kitchen. His dark brows furrowed.

"What's going on?" he asked warily as Geoff
nearly ran into his back.

Harrison swung his arm around his brother's
shoulders. "Nothing, dear brother."

Damien shrugged his brother's arm away and
huffed. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because he's hiding away your birthday
present," Roman grinned wickedly.

Harrison shot him a glare, while Damien
snorted in laughter.

"He just got it home and didn't have time to
get it hidden upstairs before you came back," Roman continued with
a sly smirk at Harrison's irritation. "Hid it in the back
storeroom, wanna see?"

"Roman!" Harrison sputtered.

Damien cast an amused glance between his two
younger brothers. "I think I can wait a couple days."

He slid his gaze to his brother's arm being
wrapped in linen. "What happened to you?"

Roman's eyes turned dark as he glanced at
Harrison. "It got scratched when I tried to help Harrison here with
your gift."

Harrison's mouth dropped open in shock at how
bold his brother was about referring to his present.

"It was an accident," Harrison growled back,
and Damien just laughed at both of his brothers.

"Be careful next time," Damien warned
congenially and moved on to the exit, leaving them all in the
kitchen and finally escaping to his quiet study again.

Harrison watched the broad shoulders of his
brother disappear out of the kitchen. "You bastard," he snapped at
Roman. "You're trying to ruin my surprise."

"And your 'surprise' tried to ruin my arm,"
Roman snapped back, rising from his chair.

"You just want to ruin my fun," Harrison
pouted. "You almost gave it all away."

"Oh, trust me, the fun hasn't yet begun,"
Roman said cryptically. "Damien doesn't care anything about his
birthdays anymore, so he had no intention of taking my suggestion
to peek at your little gift. But, remember, it's still alive only
because I think it will be amusing to see his reaction to it in a
couple days, otherwise I would have had Arnett put it down for
attacking me like that."

There were a few gasps from the servants
standing around, and Roman took a moment to straighten and exude
his power over the room. He could feel the anxiety radiating around
him. Then he walked firmly out the door.