I didn’t quite have my ear pressed up to the door, but that wasn’t far off. Through my position huddled next to the door, I was able to make Magnus and Orinbar’s conversation.

“-question why you even care, old man.” I heard Magnus say, derision dripping from his voice. “Do you have sympathies for the cattle? Do you feel bad for them?”

“I care nothing for the ultimate fate of a lowly slave, Magnus,” Orinbar said evenly, only a smidgeon of frustration leaking through in his voice. “My problem is the waste of resources. My problem is that every time you put on one of your little performances with the slaves, productivity drops. My problem is that Rhoscaran scouts are now driving back the Elves we depend on to acquire below-market rates for replacement slaves. We only have so much disposable income, as you well know. This settlement was never intended to have a positive gold flow.”

I perked up at that. Were they going to talk about the warehouse Silvia thought existed?

“That doesn’t sound like my problem,” Magnus answered flippantly.

I heard creaking inside. “It is your problem,” Orinbar said menacingly. “Do not forget, as vital as this operation is to require my services, you are still the nominal leader of Addersfield. You must take this more seriously, Magnus! The stockpile we gather here is too important to the Prince’s future plans! You are meant to learn a lesson from this posting, as well as keep out of the public eye. Your father is still busy sweeping your latest misstep under the rug. It was far too public this time.”

“Do you expect an apology out of me, old fool? I would do it again.” Magnus said, with an audible sneer in his voice.

Orinbar made a noise of intense frustration. “You raped and killed another member of the nobility, Magnus!” He nearly hissed. “By the gods, you flayed her alive! If you weren’t Prince Anguis’s son, you’d have been hanging from the gallows that day! The Prince needed to make uncomfortable concessions to the Luminarans to hide your misdeeds. Concessions that delayed his plans even more.”

“None may deny me,” Magnus said dismissively. “The cunt deserved it. Is this the only reason you called for me, Sensechal? To harangue me? If so, I think I’ll take my leave.” I heard the sound of a chair being pushed back inside, causing me to scramble away from the door. I’d just managed to take an unassuming, meek posture next to my cart when the door nearly slammed open next to me. Magnus strode out, his features twisted in a state of contempt that seemed to be his default expression. He didn’t even look at me as he stormed down the corridor toward the stairs.

Through the open door, I heard the sound of Orinbar letting out a long, drawn-out sigh of frustration. “I do believe I’ve lost my appetite.” He muttered, before raising his voice. “Slave! Come collect these plates.”

I grabbed my cart and started wheeling it into the room, being careful not to catch Orinbar’s eye. “Yes, master,” I said quietly, once inside. Carefully walking over to the desk, I noticed that both plates were still covered. I guess neither of them was hungry after all. Grabbing first Magnus’s and then Orinbar’s, I’d just set them both down on the cart when I felt a familiar tingle on the back of my neck. Someone was using Observe on me, and considering there was only one other person in the room, I knew who it had to be. I could feel myself break out into a cold sweat.

“John Doe, is it?” I heard Orinbar say from behind me. Slowly turning around, I saw that Orinbar was fully focusing on me for the first time. He’d sat up straight and laced his fingers together in front of his chest. “I don’t believe I recognize you.”

He wasn’t asking a question.

“This is my first day in the manor, master,” I answered him, trying to play the part of the meek slave as best I could. “I-I worked in the field before this.”

Orinbar hummed. “Is that so?” He slowly started reaching for the control slate to his right, causing me to unwittingly tense. “You see, Mr. Doe, I have quite the memory. The admissions paperwork for every slave that Addersfield acquires crosses my desk eventually. And I’m afraid that I do not recognize your name.”

I was frozen in fear at this point.

“Let us see if you are truly one of our slaves, shall we?” He finally took his eyes off of me to rapidly scroll through the slate before stopping. He tapped on the slate, causing something to happen that nearly caused me to go wild with terror.

My collar began to heat up, for the first time since it had been placed on me. Involuntarily, hands flew up to rest on it. I didn’t know what I was intending to do, but I never got the chance.

“Do not!” Orinbar barked. “Unless you wish to cause your own death, I do not recommend tugging on your collar at this time.”

I froze, as still as a statue. I didn’t even dare to move my hands away from my neck.

After a few tense moments, I was able to see Orinbar relax from his tense posture. He sat down the control slate and brought up his right hand to begin massaging the bridge of his nose. “The fools must have botched the form.” He muttered, irritated. Looking up at me, Orinbar waved a hand dismissively. “You may relax, slave. Your collar has been authenticated as being the property of Addersfield. Before you go, when were you…indentured? I’ll need to amend your paperwork.”

Visibly shaking, I lowered my hands from my collar. “I-I was captured three m-months ago, m-master.” I didn’t have to fake the stutter in my voice this time. I’d just barely managed to avoid discovery. Still, I retained enough presence of mind to give a later date to my capture than it actually was.

“Very well. You may go.” Orinbar said, dismissing me. I jerkily turned around and began to wheel the cart out of the room. Before I could leave though, I was interrupted one last time. “Oh, and Mr. Doe?” I shakily turned to look over my shoulder, but Orinbar wasn’t even looking at me this time. “The kitchen slaves may have those meals. It wouldn’t do to waste them.”

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

I managed a nod, even though I was sure he didn’t see it. Maneuvering the cart through the door, I shut it behind me.

………………………………………

When the kitchen slaves saw how shaky and pale-faced I was from my time delivering meals, they gave me knowing looks. They didn’t ask me what had happened, which I was grateful for, but I did get a few pats on the back. They were pretty grateful when I told them we could have the last two meals as well. Apparently, they didn’t get fed much more than table scraps usually. We divided up everything on both plates, and tried to enjoy the little bit that we were fed for the day.

I didn’t really taste any of it, though. I was still thinking about my close call with Orinbar. God, I was so damn stupid. Of course, they would have methods of checking if a slave was legitimate or not. I’m betting that infiltrating a spy as a false slave was a very common method of use against the dwarves. I’d gotten lucky, in some regards. If my collar hadn’t been a real Addersfield collar, he might have killed me right there on the spot. I’m sure he was a higher level than I was.

I tried to shake it off. I’d only found the location that the control slate was kept in so far. Orinbar might have had the slate on his desk right then, but I’m betting that he stored it in the safe that I had seen in his office. But that was only the slate. I still needed to find the ward stone.

My plan to use the food deliveries had worked so far, so why fix what wasn’t broken? There was still one more meal in the day, and I doubted that Magnus would be lingering around Orinbar’s office again. Wherever he spent most of his time in the evening, I was hoping it wasn’t too far from the stone. I just had to wait for my chance.

In the meanwhile, I got back to dishwashing.

………………………………………

After hours of mindlessly scrubbing dishes, my hands were getting pretty raw. With my stats, it wasn’t hard work per se. But I was still pretty mentally exhausted by the time dinner was rolling around in the manor. When I volunteered to push the cart again, the kitchen slaves tried to protest. They told me that I’d already done enough for one day, especially for someone new to the manor. But I was adamant. Probably too much, if I was being honest.

I’m not going to lie; it was a little uncomfortable to be called brave by one of them. I was sparing them the possibility of punishment, but I wasn’t volunteering out of the goodness of my heart. Still, I got through their thanks with only a mildly uncomfortable hug from one of the female kitchen slaves to show for it.

Once I’d gotten through the kitchen doors, I waited for Mr. Piggy to show up again to lead me about. He didn’t, though. It was a different dwarven servant this time. I didn’t get much of a look at him before he began impatiently waving me forward from the open door.

I didn’t ask questions. I’d probably get a swift backhand if I tried.

Delivering the dinner for the day carried on much similar to how it had at lunch. I was directed around the manor by the new servant, whose name I didn’t know, and instructed to wait while he served the food to the fops. We even briefly stopped by Orinbar’s office again, to deliver his meal. This time, I only got a single disinterested glance from him before we were dismissed.

Before long, I was directed upstairs again. But this time we didn’t stop on the second floor. We went up to the much smaller third. The third floor seemed to only consist of one short hallway in which two large sets of doors lay on either side of it. The servant directed me to stop just outside of the one on the right. He took a long, deep breath to steel his nerves before firmly knocking on the large and gaudy double doors.

I’m guessing even his servants were wary of Magnus.

He didn’t get a response. The servant tried again, knocking slightly harder, as if he was scared to be too loud. Still nothing. Maybe he wasn’t in there?

The servant seemed to think he was though, because he reached for the rightmost handle anyway. Smoothly opening the doors, the servant stepped inside with me hot on his heels. I was briefly stunned by the sheer gaudiness of the room inside.

It was everything you would expect from a noble with more money than decoration sense. It was massive, for one. Filled to the brim with gold-painted wooden furniture, it had a huge four-poster bed, dressers, wardrobes, vanities, you name it, it was in here. There was even a massive green and gold carpet that dominated the center of the room. But that wasn’t what caught my attention the most.

Magnus was standing just in front of an open set of balcony doors, letting the evening air swirl about his room. Just over the horizon, I could see the sun beginning to set. But in front of Magnus, was an easel.

He was painting.

I couldn’t see just what he was painting just yet. He was blocking my view of it. He had a palette of paints sitting balanced on a stool next to him, and brush in his right hand. Magnus hadn’t looked our way since we’d entered the room.

“Your dinner, Lord Magnus.” The servant murmured in the eerily silent room. Magnus didn’t answer for a moment, only staring at his own work. The servant merely stood around awkwardly holding the plate he had picked before finally moving to set it down on a nearby table. The clank of the metal plate hitting the wood seemed to finally break him out of his stupor though.

Slowly, he turned around to stare at the two of us blankly. By moving out of the way, however, I finally got a look at what he had been painting.

It was me.

Not me as I was with this mask on, but me with my actual face. It was…it seemed to be a scene of the first hunt I had participated in. But what he’d painted hadn’t happened. On the canvas, I was being mauled to death by the bear-rabbit that I had lured to the clearing. Blood was everywhere, and I had four deep claw wounds inflicted on my face, bursting my left eye. I was missing my right arm as well, while my left was outstretched toward the viewer. The face of the me on the painting was twisted in panic.

I…I didn’t…I couldn’t…

How do you even react to the sight of something like that? Was that why he had picked me for the second hunt? He wanted to see me mauled to death by a monster because I had escaped his torment the first time?

Slowly, I became aware that I wasn’t the only one frozen in horror at the sight of the paint. The servant had frozen in place as well, staring at it with an open mouth. The entire time the two of us had been staring at the painting, Magnus had just been staring back at us with an expressionless face in silence.

The servant snapped out it first. “M-my apologies, my lord.” He stuttered. “I’ll leave you to your work.” He hurried over to the cart and me and leaned up to hiss in my ear. “Get out of here, unless you want that to be you.”

Horrified, I stared at him for a moment before coming to my senses. Swiftly, I turned the cart around and nearly rushed after the fleeing servant. As soon as I was outside, the servant shut the door behind us as quickly as he could. The entire time that we’d been in the room, Magnus hadn’t spoken a word to us.

I was breathing pretty heavily at this point. I couldn’t even describe the rush of fear-based adrenaline that had hit me, seeing a depiction of myself like that. I turned my head to look at the servant with wide eyes, forgetting myself for a moment. He stared back at me with a dour look, before placing his right index finger over his mouth in a shushing gesture.

Dude, you didn’t have to tell me that. I never wanted to think about that again, much less talk about it.

Clearing his throat, the servant spoke. “You’ll have to wait here for Lord Magnus to be finished.” He said dispassionately.

Oh.

Shit.