by Tye Tivillus
Chapter 8: Training and Discovery
The next day the clouds had all but vanished from the sky, and the sun shone down, making it a bright and refreshing day after the rain. Bo had been shaken awake by Will, who had wanted to ask what had happened the last night to his dark skinned friend. Bo explained, telling the story while they walked to the refectory, and continuing while choking down as much breakfast as he could. Will had been angry to hear of the misunderstanding with Erasmus, as though he took it as a personal affront that the foreigners suspected anyone at the castle of trying to spy or sabotage them. The white haired teen swiftly gave his word that he would spit in each and every meal he was forced to deliver to Erasmus from now on. Before Bo could argue, Will patted him companionably on the back and hurried off to talk to another group of friends that were waving him over.
The rest of the working day was much the same as always. Bo felt like he was starting to get the hang of the washing lark, although it played hell with his arms and back, making him wish he had a skerrick of magic with which to soothe his aches. At the end of the day he felt like his arms might fall off. His head ached a little as it had when he'd been forcefully propelled into the wall, and he was just about asleep on his feet. Never-the-less, he didn't want to seem ungrateful or churlish to Alexander (especially after last night), and so he was all but forced to visit the armoury, as was his usual practice. Outside the armoury a familiar figure squatted in the dirt. Bo wandered closer, quickly discovering that the familiar figure belonged to Ruben. Ruben was completely oblivious to all that was happening around him. By the teen's side there were a number of tools and wires that were sitting on a leather bag. In the dirt before Ruben, was a small mechanical bird. Bo had never seen anything like it before. Each little feather glistened in the dying sunlight, reflecting the red and orange of the sunset. It was a thing of real beauty. The bird was obviously mechanical, but at the same time the detail that had gone into it was breathtaking. As Bo watched, it opened and closed its mouth as though warbling, cocked its head to one side realistically and then to the other, it hopped around, happily pecking at the dirt. The whole thing was no bigger than a sparrow.
Bo squatted down in front of Ruben, who was keeping the bird from hopping too far way by gently nudging at it with a hand when it strayed. He was observing the creation so keenly that he completely failed to notice Bo's presence.
'Hey Ruben, what is that?' Bo asked curiously. Ruben squawked in surprise and overbalanced, falling on his bum. The bird in turn raised its head as if in alarm, glaring at Bo with empty metal eye sockets for the briefest of moments before also falling over. One wing flapped frantically, along with the opposite leg, while the head was curled tightly in to the body, and the leg that was not flailing stuck rigidly out and away from the body. Ruben quickly got to his feet and muttered something over his creation, and the wonderful mechanical bird fell dead, going into a settled pose. The hairy teen looked up at Bo sheepishly,
'The flying mode doesn't work quite properly yet.' He explained, clearly embarrassed, 'It keeps thinking its foot is a wing and its head is a foot.'
'You mean you made this?' Asked Bo incredulously. The other teen allowed himself a proud smile, and Bo got the feeling it wasn't an expression that often got to cross his face.
'Yep - doesn't it look like a real bird and all? I wanted it to be able to fly by now, but it is much harder than I thought it would be. Mice are so much easier to animate.' Before Bo could ask any further questions, there was a shout as Alexander poked his head out of the armoury. He was clearly impatient for Bo to get to work. Bo hurried to his polishing duties while Ruben packed up his materials, tools and bird with a slow exaggerated care.
Once inside the armoury, however, Bo was given a stick and not, as he had expected, a cleaning rag. Ruben entered a moment or two afterward and was likewise given a stick.
'Once a week, not enough. Now iz trainink every day.' barked Alexander. The man seemed very short on temper that day. Bo and Ruben both had trouble remembering everything they had been taught in the previous lesson, and Alexander handed out many more whacks with his whipstick than he had before. By the end of the lesson, not only did Bo's arms and back ache from the washing he had done, but his sides, legs and arms all sported minor bruises from the harsh training instruction that the weapons master employed. It was cold compensation to know that Ruben was just as bad as he was when it came to fighting. While the two teens settled into some drills, Alexander sat and polished weapons, placing those that needed extra attention in a separate pile, and keeping one beady blue eye on his students at all times. It was a relief for Bo to know that he wouldn't have to do that work on top of everything else, but he had to say that he preferred polishing and gaining Alexander's approval, than being taught by the gruff old man and earning nothing but a whack across the back - if he was lucky. At the end of the lesson, there was another round of sparring. Ruben tried his best to keep to the moves and style he had been shown by Alexander, and Bo tried to loosen up a little, but neither of the two managed to satisfy Alexander, who merely grumbled that it was obvious they had not been doing their exercises every day.
After the sun had set both Bo and Ruben wearily trudged back toward the courtyard in a companionable silence. Alexander had only begrudgingly let them out, extracting promises that they would come back the next day and make sure to do their exercises. Will was waiting at the opposite side of the courtyard, with his arms folded across his chest. As Ruben peeled off toward the castle Bo waved goodbye but the other teen seemed too preoccupied to notice, intent on his own thoughts. With a shrug Bo wandered back to Will, and they walked toward the slave compound.
'What are you doing chatting to Useless? Has Alexander got him doin the old spit 'n' polish as well?' Bo frowned,
'You mean Ruben?'
'Yeah, but everyone up at the castle calls him Useless.' Explained Will offhandedly. 'His grandfather was a knight or something. I don't know the full story but I heard he was in the same troop as Alexander, even. He died on campaign. Useless' dad left afore Useless was born and his mum died when he was given birth, so he's been sort of brought up by the entire castle. The library mages, the home troops, and o' course the slaves. He hasn't followed in his grandfather's footsteps though, couldn't fight 'is way out of a mud puddle. He's not a bad sort I suppose.' Will paused as they entered their room, realising Bo had let him speak instead of answering his initial question. The white haired teen turned, hands on hips, blocking Bo from entering the room, 'so what were you two doing, getting all buddy buddy?'
'What are you, jealous?' joked Bo. Will didn't rise to his joke, determined to pluck the answers from Bo. 'Okay, okay, Ruben was getting private lessons from Alexander, and I was there too. I felt kinda sorry for him getting all whacked around like that so I thought I'd walk with him.' It wasn't exactly a lie, but something told Bo that he shouldn't be letting on that he was learning how to use a weapon, not even a stick. Will gave his friend a look up and down, taking note of the blossoming bruises, but tactfully he didn't peruse the subject and the two of them got an early night, for once.
The next day Bo discovered Ruben in the same place as before. He looked just as absorbed with his little bird as he had yesterday. Wandering over Bo sat with the other teen thinking about what Will had told him. For all that Ruben was called Useless and had no real family, the boy seemed happy in a blithe, untroubled sort of way. Not only that but he wasn't useless! Bo had never seen such interesting things as the metal bird.
'Hey Ruben,' he began. Ruben squawked and fell on his bum again, having been unaware that he was being watched.
'Don't sneak up on me like that!' he breathed, picking himself up.
'Sorry. I was just wondering where you learned this magic?' Ruben blinked at Bo as if no one had ever asked that before.
'In the library, but mostly I made it up myself I guess.' He said, without ceremony. Bo blinked at him wondering how someone called Useless could make up such i
nteresting spells.
'Did you say you could animate a mouse yesterday?' Ruben's eyes lit up with the opportunity to talk about his prowess to someone who saw it as more than the creation of overly expensive toys.
'I already have!' he exclaimed eagerly, forgetting his bird in his enthusiasm, which started to wander away. Ruben told Bo of the mouse he had created. He claimed he had kept it in a small cage at one point but that he hadn't done anything with it – his interest in the mouse had disappeared as soon as he'd finished creating it, and he'd moved onto something more difficult -the bird.
'Could you bring the mouse next time so I can see it?' Ruben looked like he'd not thought of something as simple as showing the creation to someone else. He scratched his head thoughtfully,
'Sure no problem.' That was when Alexander came out with his whipstick, tired of waiting for the two teens to get to the armoury. Ruben ran, covering his head with one hand, trying to scoop up his bird with the other, while Alexander chased him with the whipstick, giving him the occasional slap as encouragement to hurry up.
The rest of the day was taken up with training, and Bo could feel his body screaming at him by the end of it, telling him he needed at least an entire day of sleep, if not more. As was the case the day before Will was waiting for him, and Ruben peeled away, heading in the direction of the castle. This time however, the other teen remembered to turn and wave at Bo, although he looked mildly confused as if he'd forgotten why he was doing such a thing.
Ruben forgot to bring the mouse the next day, but on the day of the week's end he remembered. It was a small thing, being the size of an actual mouse. Ruben kept it in a wooden cage that would have been far too small for a real animal and was little more than a box. The teen set the mouse down in Bo's hand, and Bo had stared at it in awe as it mimed cleaning its whiskers and chattering its teeth. Encouraged by Ruben he set the mouse down on the ground and it scurried furiously about until Ruben muttered a few words. It returned right to his hand, climbing onto it without hesitation.
'I don't know what to do with it really.' explained Ruben, sharing some of his lunch with Bo. Bo, for his part was trying not to eat too greedily, but Ruben didn't notice, too intent on talking about his animations to realise that Bo managed to consume a majority of the food.
'I know someone who would have a good use for it!' grinned Bo, thinking of the mischief Will would get up to if he had a mouse that would do his bidding. Ruben gave Bo a quizzical look,
'Oh, do you want it? I was thinking I might break it apart and get the gold out so I can use it again, but if you want you can have it.' Bo stared at Ruben, who was waiting patiently on an answer.
'But, I mean, yes of course! But wasn't it difficult to make? I mean you could sell it for a lot couldn't you – especially if there's gold in it?' Ruben scratched his nose and shrugged. He had an almost unidentifiable expression on his face that was well hidden behind sheepishness.
'Well gold is the best metal for conducting magic, so you don't need that much of it for something like this, and anyway, it wasn't that hard to make,' he boasted, his chest swelling with pride. 'I don't mind if you take it, but here, let me write a list of commands and stuff.' Hurriedly Ruben dug out a scrap of paper and began to write on it laboriously. His tongue stuck out of his mouth in concentration, and each letter was given a lot of thought before being committed to paper. At times Ruben pushed so hard on the paper he made holes with his knife sharpened pencil, but eventually it was done. The strange teen gave it a glance over before letting out a sigh of satisfaction. He folded up the paper and tucked it into the mouse box, along with the mouse, which had gone back to a passive mode. With a casual air he handed over the box to Bo, who took it almost reverently.
'Thanks Ruben!' grinned Bo, still enchanted by the small mechanical mouse. Ruben had by that time, however, quite lost interest in proceedings, and was staring at the remainder of his lunch, wondering where it had all gone.
That night Will was not back by the time the doors were supposed to be locked, and rather impatiently, Bo waited up for his friend. He stifled a yawn, playing with the mouse, which was running from one of his hands, over his shoulder to his other hand, and back again while he waited. Bo had not let anyone see the mouse, afraid that it might be taken from him before he could show Will. About an hour after hour after lockup, there was a metallic whisper from the door. The sound of metal against metal was barely audible, but Bo had been waiting for it. He froze, while the mouse continued to scurry about over his shoulders. Quietly, Bo collected the precious mechanical animal in his hand. A moment later the door swung silently open, and a shadow crept in. It was Will. He quickly locked the door up again before finding his empty bedroll and sitting down on it.
'Will!' whispered Bo excitedly. Will jumped as though he wasn't expecting anyone else to be awake, before turning to look vaguely in Bo's direction.
'Look Will, have a look at this!' Bo's bedroll was right next to Will's and he leaned over, holding out the mouse for inspection. It was very dark, and he was sure Will would appreciate the thing more in the light of day, but he was too excited to let it wait.
'A mouse? Bo don't bring mice into the room, they'll gnaw our toes while we sleep' warned Will. He was trying to sound his usual friendly self but his voice was shaky, and Bo picked up on it at once. Stowing the mouse back in its box, he promised himself that he would show Will in the morning.
'What happened? How come you weren't back for lockup?' Will shifted uncomfortably and for a moment Bo thought he wasn't going to reply.
'I heard an argument between Master Sir an' some stranger. They didn't know I was listening, but they were arguin' about the price of something. I think it had something to do with the slaves that go missing. Master Sir was saying all about how he wasn't getting enough gold. I don't know, I think they heard me, but I had to hide until they left, 'cause I reckon if they knew I heard em I'd get in big trouble I reckon.' There was a silence that stretched on far too long, and Bo realised that Will had finished talking. Bo shook his head, although he knew in the dark Will wouldn't be able to see. The teen placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder,
'I have sommat ter cheer you up Will. Wake me up early tomorrow and I'll show you something that you'll never believe.'
The next morning, Will woke Bo a good hour before it was time to have breakfast. They spoke in hushed whispers so as to not rouse anyone of their sleeping room mates, and Bo was glad to see his friend seemed to have recovered.
'But that's- that's amazing! You say Usel-er Ruben made this?' Will stared in wonder at the mouse in his hand. It was doing the routine where it cleaned its ears. Bo had handed it over, along with the carefully written command list. It had been his first time seeing Will without words for the situation.
'Pretty amazing, right? And he's making a bird now too.' Bo didn't know why, but he felt that he wanted Will to approve of Ruben, and to understand that he wasn't just useless like everyone said he was. It would make no difference to Ruben, who lived in his own world, but it was something that was an irritation to Bo. Will had always seemed so knowledgeable and kind, that it felt wrong that he dismissed Ruben along with everyone else.
'I never woulda guessed he had it in him,' murmured Will, transfixed by the mouse. 'He just gave this to you?' Bo nodded, feeling pleased at Will's awe. Will simply shook his head in astonishment.
'I said I knew someone who might have a use for it, and he just gave it to me, like it was an interesting pebble or something.' Will turned to look hopefully at Bo, his white eyes wide and pleading in the half-light of dawn. Bo laughed, 'yeah I meant you. Could you think of anything to do with it?' he asked innocently, purposefully ignoring the devious grin that had broken out on Will's face.
'Oh I have one or two ideas.'
The next few days were a blur to Bo. The week ended and a new week began – he had been put on sweeping duty, meaning that he often got to speak to Will during the day, where Will would avidly discu
s what he and Nibble (the mechanical mouse) had been getting up to. It sounded like they were getting on quite well. Another boon of sweeping was that it usually ended quite early. He heard here and there that one brasser or another had gone missing but it was always discussed in hushed whispers between frightened slaves. Bo enjoyed sweeping the most out of every job he had tried in his first week, because it gave him the opportunity to snoop around the lower levels of the castle, and to see interesting things that he might otherwise have missed. At one point, while he was sweeping in a fairly quiet and secluded area, Bo saw one of the desert people. He was dressed all in orange, and was walking beside another man dressed all in blue that Bo was almost certain was Erasmus. They were too far away to make out many details, but as Bo watched them turning a corner, the man in orange grabbed the hand of his companion, drawing it up to his mouth and kissing it. Bo raised an eyebrow. For the rest of the day he continued to think back on the unexpected gesture, wondering if it was a desert custom, or if the two men were lovers. In The Gutter, men who loved other men, if they were found out, were often beaten, and would not be accepted for jobs. It made Bo curious, wondering if other places had different beliefs about such matters. Bo, however, stayed well away from any desert folk he encountered, despite his curiosity, in case they were as jumpy as Erasmus had been.
After the first day, Alexander quickly realised that Bo had more time on his hands, and promptly filled it with extra training, along with Ruben. Bo slowly started to find that he was getting better than Ruben when it came to fighting. While Ruben still flailed wildly, Bo was able to block most, if not all blows, and occasionally to return them in a more controlled manner. He had once even earned a nod from the gruff weapon master. Oddly enough the nod had made the last two weeks of training hell worth every drop of blood and sweat that had been shed, making Bo want to work harder to earn more nods. At the very least Alexander became comfortable enough to leave Bo and Ruben to their drills for short periods of time. He would occasionally duck out to work on weapons, or any number of other miscellaneous unexplained expeditions.
Late in the afternoon, one weekday, when Alexander had ducked out, there was the sound of approaching feet. Bo and Ruben had never heard Alexander approach so noisily before, and rightly assumed it was someone else. Although Ruben continued his drills, Bo had the common sense to drop the stick he was holding, suddenly anxious that he might get in trouble. The large doors to the armoury burst open loudly, revealing Master Sir and a group of three of his 'lads'. The noise made even Ruben stop his work, distracting him from the long chain of movements that he was supposed to be going through.
'You, Useless.' Bellowed Master Sir. He hadn't yet seen Bo. 'Where is Alexander, I want to have a word with him. I heard one of the slaves has been here every afternoon! No one told me of this!' As quietly as he could Bo began to creep back, trying to find a place to hide. It was too late however, and Master Sir, who had been advancing on Ruben quickly saw his companion. 'You!' he barked accusingly. His pace quickened as Bo stopped inching backwards. Master Sir stopped only when he was towering over Bo. 'Have you been slinking off here to avoid work? Tell me now boy, because I already know that this is the case.'
'I-I - I don't but I finish before--' stuttered Bo, his stomach coiling and uncoiling with anxiety. He knew there was probably nothing he could say to get himself out of trouble. He couldn't admit that Alexander had been letting him polish weapons or learn how to fight, as it might get Alexander in trouble. In either case he was interrupted by a backhanded slap from Master Sir.
'I can tell you were trying to lie to me boy. Maybe I should beat you now and save us the trouble of listening to your lies?' Bo resisted raising his hand to his face. Master Sir had several expensive rings on his fingers which had bitten into the flesh of Bo's cheek. The teen looked down at the ground. 'Look at me when I speak to you!' hissed Master Sir, lashing out again. He was clearly not in control of his temper. Off to the side, Ruben looked confused. The lumbering boy tried placidly to speak up in Bo's defence but was cut off mid-sentence and told to leave. With a shrug Ruben did as he was told, still looking mildly confused. Bo was sent sprawling by a well aimed blow, and a foot crashed down onto his chest, to hold him down. The pressure being exerted felt like it was going to crush his ribs. Struggling for breath the teen blinked up at Master Sir who was leering at him, not even bothering to level his accusations any longer. He seemed to be in a foul temper, and Bo had just been unlucky to cross his path. The main thought running through Bo's head was that he would have been able to avoid those blows. Master Sir had a sloppy technique and a weak stance that would be ineffective in battle. With a sadistic sneer, the slave master raised his boot a little way, intending to bring it crashing down on Bo when a shadow was cast over proceedings. A large portly shadow.
'Eef vish to zpeak to me, zpeak.' commanded Alexander angrily. Bo blinked to see Ruben standing behind Alexander, and Alexander with his hand on Master Sir's shoulder. Uncertain of what he should do, Bo stayed where he was, still trying to catch his breath. Master Sir looked extremely put out,
'This slave here has been coming to the armoury every day to slack off! He's my responsibility so I-'
'Iz not slack. Iz vork for me. I tell him, come here every day, yez. I am allowed to haff slave do vork, yez? This iz slave I truzt to do good job.' Master Sir was momentarily at a loss for words. He stammered slightly, before remembering that Alexander was only his equal. Feeling that his pride had been hurt by the sudden turn of events, Master Sir argued for some time, but Alexander remained unruffled. After a lengthy debate, it became obvious that the slave master was trying to demand a bribe to let the whole matter slide. Alexander growled, losing his patience with the greedy man, grabbing Master Sir by the very frilly front of his shirt and pulled him in close, whispering something in the other man's ear. The colour drained from Master Sir's face, and he pulled back, not even bothering to haughtily readjust his coat front.
'You don't know what you're dealing with!' he hissed angrily, eyes narrowed nearly to slits. Without further word, Master Sir turned on his heel and practically fled. The weapon master continued to watch until Jayne was completely out of sight, before turning back to his pupils.
'You get up now, Bo. I zay do drill, but come back and find lying down on job. Iz not good.' Bo, who couldn't tell if the weapons instructor was joking or not, hastily got to his feet, wincing slightly as he bent to retrieve his stick. He and Ruben were allowed to finish early, and the regular sparring session was called off.
After that day Bo heard no further comments from Master Sir, in fact everything seemed to go quiet. It was said that The King would be returning in four days to resume the peace talks, and that he would find the desert mages less agreeable in demeanour than previous, having made them wait on him for so long. No one walked idly any more, as if they all had places to go and things to do, and everyone seemed to be in a terrible mood. Even some of the silver collars were questioning the wisdom of their King in treating his guests so offhandedly, and gossiping about the unease in the air. In all it felt like the calm before the storm, and Bo could feel the levels of anxiety in the slaves' quarters rising. Alexander was more ruthless than ever in his training, and Bo could tell Ruben was getting more and more distracted, sometimes to the point where the other teen would stop what he was doing to stare off into space thoughtfully until a whack from Alexander's whipstick brought him back to earth.
'It's strange' he said to Bo one day, after training, 'but people don't call me Useless anymore - not as much anyway. Do you feel like there is something bad going to happen?' The two statements were entirely unrelated, which was often what a conversation with Ruben was like, but to hear his thoughts mirrored by someone who was so monumentally unobservant was a worry to Bo. He was of the opinion that if Ruben had noticed something as subtle as the miasma enshrouding the castle, then everyone must have.
In the end it was the day that The King came back from the hunt that everyth
ing went bad. Bo woke early with the smell of burning in his nostrils. He quickly woke Will, who unlocked the door, not bothered that they might all get into great trouble, but worrying only that the slave compound was on fire and that they may all burn to death. As soon as they exited the compound however, they could see the smoke was coming from elsewhere. Venturing out cautiously, Will, Bo, and the rest of the room were the first to see that the armoury had been reduced to a blackened frame, and a rain of ashes. Bo swallowed nervously, but he and Will were forced to hurry back to their room. Will barely managed to lock the door in time, but those who unlocked the slave rooms were clearly preoccupied, and didn't notice the guilty looks that flashed from slave to slave.
The days work seemed without end, but Bo worked through lunch, getting his work done faster than usual, although more sloppily as well. There was plenty of ash to dispose of, as it had drifted on the wind, and had been trekked into the castle by numerous busy feet. Finally free to do as he would with the last few hours of the day, Bo hurried to the site of the fire. He wasn't the only one, and the boy quickly found that there was quite a group. Many were whispering that Alexander had been missing all day while others claimed the fire could only have been caused by magic, as the armoury had many protection spells on it. Ruben was nowhere to be found. A light hand on his shoulder caught Bo's attention, and he turned to see Will looking down at him with an odd expression.
'I'm sorry Bo, about Alexander. I know you liked him an' all.' Bo shook his head in disbelief, unable to ask what Will was talking about for fear that he already knew. 'Did you know? He was supposed to be in the armoury all night. They say the fire started real quick and there was no way he coulda got out.' Bo pulled away from Will, too shocked to feel sadness or fear or any other appropriate response. He knew that later, after the loss had sunk in, he would be upset, but for the time being he couldn't come to terms with the idea that such a strong, and vibrant man had gone down in something as mundane as a fire. The dark teen turned back to looking at the burned out armoury, and caught a glimpse of Master Sir and a group of his 'lads' picking over the ashes. Conclusions fell into place, and Bo's gaze hardened. No doubt it was Master Sir who had been responsible. Somehow it had to be him. He'd threatened Alexander, hadn't he? The slave master turned, his monocle glinting in the half light of the afternoon, and Bo fancied that the man was grinning evilly.
The teen turned and fled. He hadn't consciously thought through what he would do, but his legs already knew where he wanted to go. He sprinted into the castle. For a time Will followed him, but ultimately his white haired friend gave up, assuming that Bo needed time alone, for grief letting. Numbly Bo rushed up the stairs to the forbidden second floor. It was the guest rooms he was headed for, sure that if anyone would help him, or listen to his story, it would be the desert mages, and maybe they could even do something about it. There were shouts from a few people he rushed by, but Bo was too busy trying to remember where Arty and Erasmus were housed. His feet slapped on the hard stone floors, and the noise echoed slightly down hallways, as Bo was not making even the slightest attempt at subtlety. It was near impossible to navigate the place, however, as it looked so different in the light of day. He had no time to notice the sweet smelling flowers that made the place so pretty, nor the outraged expressions of various people as he hurried recklessly through otherwise subdued corridors. As he ran, Bo thought about how kind Alexander had been, in his own way, when Bo had first arrived, and the small nods of approval he sometimes awarded when Bo or Ruben did something particularly well. He thought about how there was no one at all that he knew who was like Alexander, and mourned the loss of someone he might have counted as a friend, if not a mentor.
Stopping to gasp for breath and find his bearings, Bo was seized by a pair of rough hands. Reacting according to his training he ducked and twisted, slipping out of the grasp and coming to face his attacker. It was an enraged looking silver collar slave, who had a friend behind her,
'You aren't allowed up here! You done made the guests mad! – Hey come back!' Bo hadn't waited to hear the rest of the accusations. If he didn't find Erasmus or Arty sooner rather than later then he'd be caught and taken back downstairs, and kept under lock and key. He wouldn't get another chance to ask for help once he was caught, because they would keep an extra special eye on him. Ducking and dodging down corridors and up stairs, Bo was hotly pursued by the silver collar slaves. He had somehow made it onto the third floor, and even the silver collars were looking like they didn't know if they were allowed in the area. The rugs were suddenly of much higher quality still than in the guest quarters, and everything looked, felt, and smelled much richer – not that Bo noticed as he was rushing by. Suddenly a flicker of blue caught his eye, and Bo quickly spun, ducking under a punch from one of the silver collars and scrambling breathlessly into a semi-hidden alcove.
'Erasmus!' he bellowed, turning the corner. He saw that he'd been right, as Erasmus turned, looking extremely startled. The tall blue-clad man froze as Bo raced toward him, two silver collars clumsily in pursuit. Bo practically threw himself at Erasmus, grabbing the man by his collar and pulling him off balance,
'Please, I need help! There's someone that--' the rest of his sentence was cut off as the other slaves dived on their prey. All three of the slaves were panting like dogs after a hunt.
'There's no one up here what'll help you out now, numb skull!' growled the girl slave, grabbing Bo's collar and smacking his head to into the floor. The teen's nose crunched into the rock and Bo let out a muffled groan of agony. Ignoring the pain blossoming from his face, Bo struggled to look up at Erasmus, still trying to plead with the mage,
'Don't you know who I am?' he cried desperately, sure that if he could make the foreigner remember that they had met that he would be more easily persuaded to help. Erasmus still seemed to be frozen in shock, or even fear. Bo was quickly muffled, but he locked gazes with the mage, trying for the pleading eyes that Will so often used. It was to no avail; the tall magician didn't so much as blink while Bo was being taken away.
