"Oh. I…I haven't finished," Lenox began, preparing to explain that his work in the field wasn't quite done. He had never been permitted to go back to the house without first completing his labors, after all, so he assumed that the supervisor just didn't realize that he wasn't finished yet. If that was the case, and he found out that a field hand had gone back to the manor without finishing his allotted jobs for the day, he would be whipped for sure.
"Are you arguing with me?" the supervisor demanded in a deep, guttural voice. Just his tone sent shivers down Lenox's back, but the threat was far more frightening.
"No, sir. I just…" Lenox began, but decided that an explanation would get him into more trouble, rather than doing him any good. "No sir. I'm sorry, sir," he said softly. "What should I do with the tractor?"
"I'll put it back in the docking area. Master wants you back at the manor immediately," the supervisor said. "Now shoo! Get along! We don't have all day!" he ordered, and Lenox quickly got down from the huge tractor and started running towards the manor. It was over a mile away, and he was dying of thirst, but he knew if he was seen strolling casually, there would be trouble.
When he got to the manor, Lenox was panting and wheezing from not having enough to drink, but his master quickly saw him and approached. "I was wondering why you were taking so long. Get in line with the others," he growled, his unnerving yellow eyes piercing right through him. Lenox didn't argue, and simply went over to the lineup, though he was unsure of whether or not to stand with the breeders. The Blugers had modified humans on Belezian so that both males and females could bear children, but traders usually still selected females for this role. However, a kick to his backside, pushing him that way, informed him quite quickly that he was to stand with them.
Lenox's blood ran cold as he stood with the line of breeders. He wasn't nineteen yet, and that was the age that was appointed to be ripe for child rearing. Before nineteen, there were more medical complications than were worth dealing with, particularly for male breeders, in the opinion of most of the slavers at least. Therefore, typically girls and boys didn't stand in this line until that time, but now he was here, before his time. It made him shiver, and curse his blasted luck. His supervisors or master must have misplaced his records, or misremembered them, or there must have been some mistake. Still, Lenox only worried about that in the back of his head. His more pressing concern was getting water.
"Listen up, all of you!" the master of the farm, Lord Plargue, began to address the crowd. "The Valex prince has come today to pick house slaves for his castle, and he came here because I keep only the best of the best. If any of you, and I mean any stinking one of you, gives him any other impression, then consider yourself dead! My reputation is on the line here, and if I lose that, then you lose your stinking life, and so does every one of your friends and family!" he said, his voice booming. The Prince of Valex must have been quite an influential figure to get Plargue in this sort of a mood, but still Lenox couldn't focus on that more than his parched throat. It felt as though tumbleweeds had taken up residence and were roaming around. All he wanted in this world was a tall glass of cold water, though at this point he would have taken any liquid capable of slaking his thirst.
Plargue went on about more threats, though Lenox didn't focus any of his attention on the boss’s rambling. He just started looking around the room for water. Surely there would be a little somewhere? Even if it was just near a plant, or even if it was a bucket put under a leaky spot in the roof. At this point, he wasn't even going to bother worrying about whether or not the water was clean. He was dying for some liquid.
Though Lenox didn't see any water in the room, he did notice that everyone — except for him, it seemed — was dressed in their finest clothes. Some people without finer things even looked like they had been given something to wear for the occasion.
At the moment Lenox realized this, the strong, somewhat slimy hand of a Bluger grabbed his arm and pulled him off to the side, quite unceremoniously. He wasn't offered an explanation, and he didn't ask for one. Being a slave all his life made Lenox rather accepting of whatever sort of injustice befell him.
Once the Bluger stopped hauling him around, Lenox found himself in a dressing room with some nice, sparsely embroidered clothes. The fabric was similar to linen, but it was clean, which was more than he could say about his current clothes, at least.
The Bluger unceremoniously took a wet rag and wiped the worst of the dirt from Lenox. What he wouldn't have done to take that rag and wring the water out. His throat was like a desert. But he refrained and got himself dressed in a clean, white, linen outfit that was decorated with gold-hued embroideries, a much nicer thing than would typically be given to a field hand, but he had to be presentable if he was going to be chosen by royalty.
After he was dressed, he looked around for the rag, but it was nowhere in sight, and in no time he was being led back to the lineup.
"Stand straight, no slouching!" the Bluger that had him go change into the clean outfit ordered. Lenox hadn't been slouching per se, more looking for a drink, but he followed the Bluger’s orders and stood tall, though his wandering eyes couldn't be contained.
Luckily, he wasn't standing dumbly for long. A tall, dark, handsome figure walked into the room within minutes. He stood at about seven and a half feet tall, with long and flowing purplish-black hair. His skin was pale, making him somewhat unnerving to look at, but he was surprisingly human. The only differences that Lenox could see were his claw-like nails, his bright purple eyes, and his height.
The prince was adorned in a long black cape with purple accents and a black suit. In his hand, he held a goblet of something — Lenox couldn't tell what. Despite not knowing what was in the goblet, it became the sole focus of his attention.
"Announcing the famed Prince of Valex, Gavron," said Lord Plargue, doing a very uncharacteristic bow as the tall, pale man walked in.
The prince surveyed the room briefly, then looked in his goblet and swirled the contents briefly before taking a sip. Lenox wanted it so badly, but he didn't move from his spot.
Slowly, and deliberately, Gavron began moving around the room, surveying all the children with a discerning eye. He picked a lot of the more delicate and refined-looking boys, presumably for butlers. For the women, he seemed to favor those with black hair and smooth skin, as every one that he picked fit that category.
When he moved over to the line of breeders, Lenox stiffened and stared forward intensely, not wanting to be picked. He was afraid of the prince’s deliberate, slow, purposeful manner. Something was unnerving about it compared to the brash, loud, and violent manner of the Blugers. Perhaps the Blugers weren't objectively any better than this man, but they were at the very least more familiar.
Lenox felt the prince’s eyes stop on him, and dared to look up briefly. In the moment their eyes met, Lenox saw a mix of hunger and warmth in the prince’s gaze, which was both unnerving and oddly flattering. Eventually Gavron passed by him, and he relaxed after a few moments when the prince moved on farther down the line. Now more at ease, Lenox glanced around, and saw the prince’s goblet on the table nearby! He had actually put it down!
Lenox couldn't believe his luck, but he didn't wait to wake up from this dream. He carefully took a cursory glance around. The Blugers didn't seem to be too focused on his section of the slaves in the lineup. Their focus seemed to be wherever the prince was at the time, and because he was a bit farther down the line, Lenox could carefully slip out of place for a moment.
Though he knew if he was caught there would be serious repercussions, at this point he felt truly desperate to get some liquid in him. So, he took the goblet in his hands and quickly chugged down enough of the contents to sate himself for the moment, then put it down and was about to turn and hurry back to his place.
As he turned, however, he bumped into none other than the prince. He was tall and imposing, and just seeing those intense purple eyes look down upon him made Lenox shiver in f
ear.
"Insolent little fool!" Lord Plargue shouted in a terrible, grating voice, and doubtless he would have continued yelling, except the prince put up his hand to silence him.
"Do not screech in my presence. I came here to see your stock, not to be serenaded by a banshee," the prince said coolly, turning to glare at Lord Plargue, who quickly bit his tongue. Lenox could see how angry he was, and felt as if he had been issued the death sentence already, as that was certainly coming.
"I…I'm sorry. I was so thirsty," Lenox said quietly.
"Go stand with the others," Gavron said, but Lenox wasn't sure if he was saved or if Gavron would just have his own punishment for Lenox back at his castle. Perhaps he was a sadist who liked to torture people? It wouldn't have been surprising, especially considering he was royalty.
Still, Lenox could only choose between this stranger who might spare him or certain death. Granted, he knew the Blugers would give him a quick and painless death, but he couldn't deny himself the chance to be saved. So, even if he was walking towards a terrible, torturous end, that sliver of hope encouraged him to take the chance.
Once he was in the line, Plargue exploded, yelling loudly at him. "Get back in your place, you insolent child! You…you!"
"I ordered him there, Plargue," the prince said shortly. Though Lenox could plainly tell that Plargue was containing an explosion within him, the toadish alien said nothing more, and neither did Lenox.
The rest of the assembly went on without a hitch, and Lenox followed the group that was led by the prince to his ship, after he paid for the twenty-some slaves he had picked from the group he'd perused.
Strangely enough — or at least Lenox thought it strange — there were no guards that followed the slaves or prodded them onwards. Instead, the prince seemed to just have faith that all of the slaves would follow without faltering.
Though Lenox thought it odd, he followed the prince without a second thought. Everyone in the procession knew that if they failed to stay with the prince, they would be executed on the farm. Perhaps the prince's confidence that they would follow wasn't so odd after all.
Once on the carrier ship, Lenox milled in with the rest of the crowd. All the older slaves who had been picked, who were at least over nineteen, knew the drill. Plargue prepared his slaves with meticulous attention to detail — something he was famous for. Therefore, all the older slaves directed the younger ones to follow them into the human transport area, which was easy enough to find by following the signs.
Lenox was prepared to follow the older breeders, considering they actually knew what they were doing, but he stopped himself when he felt a sense of unease come over him. He couldn't account for the cause exactly, but he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up, and his skin began to break out in gooseflesh. He froze momentarily before he looked up to see that the prince was staring straight at him with that same hungry look in his eyes.
For a moment, Lenox was completely at a loss, unable to make any coherent thought stick in his mind. As Gavron started to walk towards him, however, he felt instantly afraid. He was worried Gavron wanted to punish him for stealing, yet his feet wouldn't heed his mind and run away.
It wouldn't do any good, even if they did heed. He would just chase me down, Lenox reasoned to himself. His thoughts didn't get much further than that, however. Gavron was upon him now.
"I would like to have a word with you, Mister Lenox," Gavron said, his voice taking on a strange tone, which Lenox couldn't quite account for. He didn't know what to make of it, exactly. Gavron’s words were spoken in a near whisper, with more affectation that usual. Lenox couldn't help but worry that something unsavory was waiting for him in whatever private quarters Gavron wished to speak to him in. "Mister Lenox?" Gavron asked, a bit more forceful this time.
"Yes, sir," Lenox said, responding better to the harsher tone, as that was something that he understood a bit more easily.
"Come," he ordered, and led him to a room with a small table, a food dispensary, and a hot drink maker. He motioned for Lenox to sit, and while he did, Gavron pressed a few buttons on the hot drink maker and gave Lenox a cocoa-like drink, and he himself had something that was as black as his sable clothes.
Lenox didn't know what to do with the drink, so he just looked at Gavron with big, curious green eyes. Lenox was like a well-trained dog; he wouldn't have his treat without permission.
"Drink up, Mister Lenox," Gavron said, and took a drink of his coffee. His purple eyes followed the slave’s movements carefully as he watched Lenox take a sip of the drink, and he relaxed when he saw the smile spread across the boy’s lips. "I hope you will not continue to be so afraid of me."
"Sorry, sir," Lenox responded automatically, putting the cup down. He wasn't really sorry, but he supposed that was the correct response to have. When Gavron looked at him and narrowed those intense eyes of his, Lenox realized that it wasn't the right answer.
"That isn't a very reassuring answer for the question I posed to you. Now, I know you aren't stupid. That much I can tell. So, listen to what I say: I hope you won't continue to be so afraid of me," Gavron repeated, his tone laced with a tinge of annoyance.
Lenox took the time to listen, instead of responding on instinct like he did last time, but he was a bit at a loss for an appropriate response. Even still, he felt like he had to give an answer.
"You're right, it wasn't a reassuring answer. But it's the only response I have for your statement," Lenox replied, being a bit more honest, and slightly more candid this time around.
"And why is it the only response that you can give?" Gavron asked, taking a sip of his drink.
"Well, if someone held your life in their hands, and could destroy it at any moment, how easily would you find yourself not being afraid of them at all?" Lenox replied.
Gavron didn't say anything to that for a moment, and Lenox was worried he might have gone a bit too far. After a few minutes passed with Gavron gracefully sipping his drink and pondering the issue, he spoke again.
"I suppose you may have a point there. But nevertheless, you will annoy me if you're afraid of me," Gavron replied.
"Annoy you?" Lenox replied, surprised to hear Gavron's rather childish response to his perfectly valid reasoning.
"That is what I said," Gavron replied. "And I mean it. If you continue to be afraid of me, you'll only annoy me. That would give me more of a reason to send you back to Plargue, thereby greatly disadvantaging yourself."
"That only makes me more afraid!" Lenox said, not biting his tongue quite in time to prevent the little outburst.
Gavron laughed at that. "There! That's what I want. Someone with a little guts."
"Guts?" Lenox asked. Perhaps he was asking too many questions, but the Blugers never asked him to have guts before. All he was required to do was follow the orders that he was given without complaint.
“Do you know why I visited Belezian today?” Gavron asked.
“To find slaves to care for you and your home, I suppose.”
“Yes,” Gavron replied, “but I also came in search of a wife.”
“Did you find a suitable girl?” Lenox’s voice grew stronger now that he was no longer the focus of the conversation.
“Not…exactly…” Gavron trailed off. His gaze grew distant for a moment, and then he brought himself back to the present. "That's it," Gavron concluded. "Now, drink up. I know how thirsty you get," he encouraged.
Lenox looked at the prince, trying to understand what he meant by that. "Are you talking about how I stole your wine?" he asked.
"Yes. That was quite the performance. You humans must get thirsty rather desperately if you would step out of line and risk your life for a sip of wine," Gavron replied.
"I had been working in the fields for hours, and the temperature was just terrible. Then I had to run from the fields to the castle, get dressed, and all without any water at all. I thought I was going to die," Lenox responded, feeling a bit indignant about Gavron
's comment. Anyone would have been bold in that situation.
"So, the Blugers don't give their servants water, I take it?" Gavron asked, interested in this development.
"They did. I just drank too much earlier in the day, when it was hotter," Lenox replied. "But Blugers don't give us enough water. They lost two girls last year to heat stroke, and one boy this year. Humans sweat, so we need more water," Lenox explained.
"Fascinating," Gavron replied.
"People dying is fascinating?" Lenox asked, a bit appalled by that response, though he tried to keep his tone civil so he didn't make his master upset right from the onset. Biting his tongue was hard now that he had forced himself to let loose a bit as he talked to Gavron.
"Perhaps I chose the wrong time to interject, but I meant that the incompetence of the Blugers to keep their slaves’ basic needs met is fascinating, since they have a reputation for raising the best human slaves in this quadrant of the galaxy. Maybe standards aren't too high," Gavron mused and drank some more from his mug.
The nonchalance with which Gavron talked about death was somewhat disturbing, but Lenox didn't say anything against it. He just drank his hot chocolate in silence.
"You bear a resemblance to my brother, Lenox," Gavron said, seemingly out of nowhere.
"I see," Lenox replied quietly, avoiding Gavron's purple eyes by looking into the mug of cocoa.
"When I saw you drinking from my goblet, I knew in that moment that Plargue would have had you hung up from a pole in the middle of his compound to set an example for the others. I didn't want that to happen to you," Gavron said.
Lenox was at a loss for words there. He could honestly say that he'd never been paid such a kindness before. Yet the very fact that he was receiving such kindness now made him uneasy. What was Gavron's motivation for saving him? There was no way it was simply because he resembled the prince’s brother.
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