The Copper Horse #1 Fear (19 page)

Luckily, he managed to drink most of it. It hadn't yet kicked in, but he knew it wouldn't take long.

"You ungrateful bastard!" John forced his face into the floor, his powerful body crushing Reuben's will to fight.

"Piss off!" He arched his back, but after drinking so much at once, he was bound to start feeling dizzy and nauseated.

"You're not worthy of being called a stallion!" John hissed, holding him in place. Reuben wanted to spit an answer back at him, but all sound ceased when Erik's clear voice cut through the noise.

"What's going on here?" Judging from the rhythmic steps, he was approaching fast.

"He hit me!" Reuben complained before the other man could say anything.

"Master Erik!" John breathed with a passion. "This horse broke your agreement with him! He drank your cognac!"

The 'horse' in question growled from the floor. Erik gasped, and when Reuben opened his eyes, he saw flawless, white riding boots in the amber pool of spilled alcohol. There was a moment of unpleasant silence before Erik moved, brutally yanking Reuben's head up by the mane.

"You fucking gelding!"

"Let go! And I'm no fucking gelding!" He kept struggling, even though it was hurting him. Erik forced Reuben's head back up and when his cool eyes looked down on him, they overflowed with contempt.

"We had an agreement. How dare you?"

"Fuck your agreement!" Reuben gave him a vicious grin, already feeling the alcohol cruising in his veins. "I'm not gonna apologize for you calling me stupid!"

"That's it," hissed Erik, letting go of his hair. "You will not get any wine or spirit, ever."

Reuben narrowed his brows, his anger rising like a tide, and without much thought, he sank his teeth in Erik's hand. There was a scream, and then a shower of violent strikes to Reuben's head.

What followed was agony.

The swishing noise of the riding crop cutting through the air made Reuben curl up in pain even before he was hit.

A howl broke from his throat. He'd never known someone like Erik could reduce him to that.

"You fucking bastard!" Erik's voice rang in his head, each syllable punctuated by the riding crop slamming against his bare skin.

"Stop it! Stop!" Reuben screamed his lungs out, and as soon as John let go of him, he took the chance to lunge toward his master's legs, head first. He was surprised by a kick to his arm that sent him back to the floor. He was mute with pain, his head spinning and tears spilling down his cheeks. The boot had hit a sensitive spot, but Erik still struck him with the riding crop again in a furious attempt to force him into submission.

Reuben made inarticulate pained noises as he tried to crawl away, weaker with every second.

"Look at me!" Erik's voice sounded raw and breathless when he finally stopped raining blows on Reuben's head, back, and legs.

Reuben listened to the echo of his own breathing. Every inch of his body hurt, even his throat and lungs, not to mention his battered back. When nothing happened, he dared to look up. The bright light behind Erik made him seem darker, more dangerous, deepening the lines of his scowling face. He was panting, his delicate hand gripping the crop as if his life depended on it.

"Never attack me again!" His voice sounded much deeper than usual, almost rough. "Unless you want to end up on this wall."

That made Reuben freeze. Even with all the alcohol he had, the possibility of being skinned and used as room decor, exploded fear in his brain. "Not on the wall!" he howled like a wounded animal and, moments later, he tried to crawl away yet again.

"No, you kiss my boots. Now!" There was a clear threat in Erik's voice.

"Don't wanna get them dirty," Reuben muttered, looking back at the shoes. He tried to focus away from his hurting back, but it was a nightmare.

He looked up, and the heads of the undead seemed to grin at him from behind their sewn up lips. He let out a suppressed sob.

"Come here, Copper." Erik was struggling to control his breathing, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly in an attempt to calm himself down.

"I don' wanna." Reuben was afraid to move. He hated this room like sin!

"Kiss them." Erik's tone was dangerously cool.

"I never hurt anyone! Why are you being so horrible?" Despite his words, Reuben inched closer, his lips shaking as he desperately tried to keep from crying. It was all too much.

"You deserve it and you know it." The voice was clear and hollow. Slowly, Erik moved one foot toward Reuben. This was the moment to decide how it was going to be from now on.

"Just don't hit me no more." Reuben crawled over on his knees. Any sense of dignity he had was long gone.

Erik hissed out a breath but nodded with his jaw firmly clenched. "If you behave, I will not."

The battle was lost. Reuben kissed the tips of his master's shoes, closing his eyes in an attempt to blank out what he was doing. At least he had drunk lots of delicious cognac. The leather was soft, and he could smell its scent even through the sharp, woody smell of alcohol.

"Good. I will be back tomorrow morning. Use your time to think about your behavior." Erik moved away from him, and for a moment, Reuben thought his submission had been futile.

He looked up, his whole back screaming with pain. "Don't leave me here!" He didn't want to stay with the ghastly heads, but his attempts to get up on his own were pretty pathetic.

Erik swallowed, but his face remained as expressionless as ever. "I will not. Jack will take you to the stable."

"I just wanted a drink." Reuben's whine sounded hollow as he touched the carpet with his forehead. "Not a big ask."

"Well, you will not drink anymore." Erik slowly paced around him, possibly to examine the damage he had done.

"It's not my fault! I'm used to it; I need it!" Reuben's sight was blurry, and, in the end, he fell over to his side after one last attempt to get up.

"You will learn new ways, Copper." Erik stopped by his side, polished boots shining in the lamplight. He sounded tired, as if he was about to do something tedious. "They will be beneficial to you."

"Cognac
is
benefi... it lets me sleep so well!"

"So does good food and work," Erik corrected, casting a glance toward the door. "Come in. He needs to be taken care of."

Reuben stirred on the floor, his gaze darting up to meet Jack's pale face.

"Yes, sir." The boy grabbed Reuben underneath his arms.

"I hope you can teach him some manners tomorrow. Copper, you are dismissed." Erik dropped into his chair, leaning back, his eyes narrowed as he stared into infinity. He wasn't really there anymore, lost in whatever was troubling him.

When Jack lifted him, Reuben almost fell back down as his legs gave up under him. The alcohol made him dizzy, all muscles becoming slack. He was going to be sick.

The look of resentment on John's face didn't help either, and, for some reason, it made him ashamed of the way he acted.

"Let's go." Jack struggled to support his much larger form and walk him out of the room. Each step sent a new wave of pain up Reuben's spine.

He hoped Jack was strong enough. Otherwise, with his hands chained to his thighs, he might fall to the floor face-first and smash his nose. Or worse. "Jack, those heads... I can't take it."

"Then you shouldn't have attacked him!" Jack's voice was small and shaky. "Never, ever attack him if you don't want to end up on this wall!"

"I don't! Please don't let him hurt me like that!" Reuben tried to find his balance as they slowly progressed down the corridor.

"There isn't anything I can do!" Jack inhaled as if he wanted to continue, but John caught up with them, effectively shutting him up.

"Jack, you need to do something about this muttonhead!" His voice was sharp as a hissing serpent when he looked at the groom above Reuben's head. At this point, Reuben was beyond caring, his eyes focused on the carpet below him, the patterns hypnotizing his numb mind. With alcohol riveting through his veins, the world was good again.

"He doesn't know any better yet!" Jack petted Reuben's sore back.

"I know
he
doesn't mean any good," muttered Reuben in response and then almost tipped over.

"We'll talk tomorrow." Reuben could hear Jack's scowl in his tone. "John, please talk to him."

"Did he kill all those people?" Reuben didn't even know if the servants understood a word of his drunken slur.

Chapter 9

Next thing he knew, his head hurt as if he had a bell ringing inside it. The smell of hay was overwhelming to the point of nausea, but opening his eyes would still be too much effort. His hands were fastened in front of him with padded leather cuffs. He hated having to move, but the discomfort rolled over him in waves, and he forced his eyelids open to look around, spotting Jack's small form curled on a bench nearby.

"Water..." His voice was raspy and he tried to remember what exactly had happened yesterday. The stinging pain in his back reminded him of the beating, of Erik's fury burning up behind his cold eyes.

What a fool he was; he should have seen it coming, but the cognac being so close, he just couldn't stop himself.

Jack shivered, jerking awake. His eyes were still clouded by sleep when they swept over Reuben, who pleaded for water again.

Reuben struggled to sit in the soft hay. Only now did he notice someone had covered him with a kind of woolen blanket, albeit with a hole for his head.

"Ah, right," muttered Jack. He took his time standing up, a bit wobbly after being snatched out of his slumber.

"My head hurts." Reuben got up to his knees and checked the cuffs on his wrists. He was happy to find that even though they were attached to the wall with a chain, he was given much more freedom than yesterday.

"I imagine." The boy left the stall with a scowl.

"Jack, I'm sorry, but I don't really remember very well. Could you refresh my memory? I think a lot of bad things happened."

"God,
Copper
! You'll get us both killed!" Jack snapped at him from the outer room. Reuben could hear the sound of water. At this point, even his eyes felt dry.

"Would he do that? Were those heads on the wall real?" He knelt, trying to look out of the stall and pulling at the chain to see how far he could go. "It's so horrible, Jack! Who were those people? Who is Erik?"

The boy returned, dragging a full bucket of water. He was clearly avoiding Reuben's eyes. "They're real."

"You have to tell me more. He threatened me."

"Because you attacked him, you idiot!" Jack put the bucket in front of Reuben. "I told you to obey!"

Reuben slurped the water without another word. He thought he had a friend in Jack, but it looked like even his groom considered him stupid. At least the water was deeply satisfying: cold, wet, and even more delicious than the stupid cognac. Not really, but it was still lovely.

Jack slumped on the bench, covering his face with both palms. Reuben took a good few minutes to drink and then refreshed his face in the bucket. He realized Jack must have tended to his back, because even his arms smelled like mint tea. For lack of anything else to say, he tried, "I panicked."

"You can't panic like that!" His groom took a longer look at Reuben. "If you panic, curl up in the corner or kiss his feet! Don't ever attack the Bluefinger! Especially his hands!"

"Why is he so…?" Reuben slurped some more water, feeling the headache become less piercing. "He teases me all the time."

"He..." Jack trailed off, with a shake of his head. "He thinks it's fun. I don't know, but I promise you, he will give you everything you need if you play by his rules." Jack directed his large, shiny eyes straight at Reuben. "I cannot lose another one of you."

And then it dawned on Reuben, making his skin break out in goosebumps. "The one he killed, is he hung up in that dining room?" He felt empty when Jack's face turned into a tense mask, only his lips trembling.

He was silent for a long moment before nodding. "Among others."

"How can he eat there? Who are all those people?" There were simply too many questions that remained unanswered.

Jack made an incoherent move with his hand. "Our master has many enemies. And he hates them all."

"I know you told me to go with his rules." Reuben sat on his bed of blankets and hay. His head was spinning with thoughts of how he could make Erik like him, but it always came down to one thing: "But it's just so hard when I think what people would think of me."

Jack swallowed, his eyes fixed on the floor. "Your friends aren't here."

"My back hurts, too. I don't want him to hit me again." From the corner of his eye, Reuben saw Jack shake his head.

"He won't, I promise! He's exceptionally gentle with good horses."

"Is he?" A spark of hope glimmered in Reuben's heart. "I bet he hates me by now."

"He is furious, Copper." Jack combed his hair with his fingers. "But he will forgive you if you submit."

Reuben wanted to say something, but there was sudden stomping in the corridor and the words froze on his lips. All he could think was that he didn't want to be hit again.