There was a storm in the basement and Konrad was the calm, motionless center of it all.
The new slave was squealing and sobbing even as the Breakers stripped him, yanking and ripping cloth until he was standing without so much as a stitch to hide his manhood, arms pinned.
The It chained to the ceiling was babbling about mercy, reason, about him not being the one, and Konrad was idly impressed h could still string a sentence together with both his balls cut off and-
Petch. Lot of blood coming out the man.Janus' features were sliding from carnal enjoyment to a vague uneasiness. The room was getting crowded with flesh and thus mizas; how many of these slaves could they butcher before the Dynasties as a whole put their foot down? He was already counting the cost, writing mental notes and sliding around mental abacuses.
The woman was an interesting addition. Konrad smiled thinly as her words of sweet relief washed over the It before the slave arrived, and after. It turned to her, trembling, torn between the naked slave, the soft-voiced woman... and Konrad, of course. The ugly man who'd taken his prize and was
now seizing his moment to amble slowly over to the fresh slave.
"Y'should listen to her, boy," he said, voice like claws through hot gravel. He trailed the bloody tip of his kukri across the tear-streaked cheek of the slave. "T'ain't worth all this. An' at the enda' the night, s'gonna be the same result."
The slave screamed as Konrad gripped his balls and the kukri came up-
"WAIT! I'll tell you! You-You sunuvabitch, I'll petching... I'll petching tell you..."The words trailed of into a sob, broken and shattered as much as the slave's mind. Konrad didn't look away from the as-yet-unmarred flesh of the one the Breaker's had jusr brought in. Every inch of him was stiff and trembling, not daring to move with his balls in callused hands and a knife so close to ending him.
"The name." Konrad's voice was slow. Unmistakable. Unshakeable.
"Now. Or I take everything 'tween his legs and you watch him bleed you because of youse."The It looked to Belinda, her pleading eyes. She was one of them; she killed one of his fellows, back in the Dynast's room, and yet... she seemed sincere in what she said. She didn't want this nightmare of torture to continue, didn't want pain for the sake of pain, even with bloody gashes on her body caused by the Rujaro. His head slumped and his voice was low... a shadow of life given sound.
"... Vincenz... he... he works in the laundry room... his name's Vincenz-"Konrad's gaze snapped to Janus just as the Radacke's gofer's fingers snapped and then pointed at the door. The Breakers dropped the sobbing young slave onto the tiles and left, feet booming through the tunnel until the sound vanished. Konrad let him fall, sweat-soaked hair leaving a wet smear down his tunic as he went, pushing his head to the side so he didn't have the little turd's sobbing face in his balls by the time he hit his knees.
"We have the name." Janus' voice was low and urgent when Konrad walked over to him, back to the wounded dancer and the two terrified slaves.
"That one is superfluous. Meaning that-"
"I know what it petchin' means," Konrad said in the same low tone.
"Just can't spell it. An' the other'n might need to go, too."
"What? Why?"
"Because he's heard the name." Konrad spoke like it was the simplest reason in the world; as if even a small, trivial matter was worth a man's life. But information was not trivial in Kenash, and it wasn't a man they were talking about. It was a slave. And that alone made the situation very different.
"The Rooj we brought in, this Vincenz slave he mentioned, they're both dead. They both know it. Soon as we get what we want, about who else helped 'em. The Breakers won't talk, same reason you and I won't. But the slave?"Both men looked over at him; Konrad over one shoulder, and Janus over Konrad's other shoulder. The poor boy was curled up in one corner, staring at everything with wide, uncomprehending eyes. They hadn't even told him why he was down here, what he'd done, what they wanted.
"I was youse, I'd not let the wee bastard outta here, so he can run along to someone else, and word gets back to the Rooj that their man in the Apartments is gone."
"Why would that matter?" Janus shot back, thinking more about practicality than the life of a slave. Lowest rung on the ladder or not, he was still a walking bag of mizas, and it would be the Radacke that would have to compensate the business for his death.
"They must already know he's exposed. The know their attempt failed, that one of them was captured, and surely that he will break. Kenash knows how to break slaves, Venger. Any slave." He shook his head and crossed his arms, a little tic that Konrad had learned was unspoken code for 'my mind is made up'. "
"No... he goes back to his duties. Besides, look at him. Already pissed his breeches and fouled the back of them, by the smell of it. He'll barely remember a word in here..."Konrad didn't doubt that part, but all it would take would be one word. Specifically, a name. But he didn't get a chance to make that point. He opened his mouth and the chittering, desperate buzz of pleading rushed into his hearing, over the sound of... well, they weren't quite pounding feet anymore. The Breakers were returning, but their progress was slower, having to drag a begging slave between them. The music reached an apex when the door was flung open by one Breaker, the second hurling the man onto the floor.
The It and Vincenz looked at each other. Konrad had thought the mutilated Rujaro could not look more pathetic, more lost, more miserable and yearning for death. But when he saw the look of disbelief in his lover's face, and the slow, agonized realization that he'd been betrayed by him...
Konrad felt almost inclined to be merciful.
"Been a long night already," he said as he walked over to Vincenz, nodding at the Breakers.
"So I wanna make this petchin' brief. Hold 'im."
"m'sorry... Vin... m-"A backhand from Konrad shut him up long enough for him to nod to one of the Breakers and then jut his chin at the door.
"Get the nekkid on back to his duties. [b]After he's seen
this..."[/b]
Janus wants to spare him? Fine. He lives, with what he's seen. So lets make sure he sees the price of fighting the Dynasties, too.Konrad stood next to The It and held his hands out. The aches and stress of the fight in the room were gone: it took mere ticks for his breathing to steady, his heart to pump normally... and he focused... and he concentrated...
Janus cursed softly as a fresh light joined the white and orange cast by the torches in the dank, close room. This one was green, and there was black in it, if black could have a light. It cast weird shadows around as the glowing gas spread from Konrad's hands and became... shimmering liquid, between them, flowing back and forth in mid-air like water-
-until he shifted his palms to face The It... and it started to move towards him.
"And you?" He shifted his gaze down to a stricken, horrified Vincenz for a moment.
"Hope yer payin' attention, too."
"Vin, forg-"Whatever else the Rujaro had to say to his lover would never be heard; Konrad's res choked off the words as he sent the floating mass of liquid into his mouth, then spreading over his face, covering bruises and cuts with a mask of stinking, crackling res. The sellsword concentrated, breathing evenly as the mass of res poured into every orifice, sliding around the man's ears, almost touching the back of his head.
Konrad turned to the two slaves, fingers on one hand contorting a little in anticipation-
"This is the price of rebellion. Remember it."SNAPWith a quite literal snap of his fingers, the Rujaro's head burst into flames. He only screamed for a tick or two before the transmuted res burnt his tongue and vocal chords away, scorched flesh and muscle sliding down his throat. Fat sloughed off his face in steaming, roasted chunks. His eyes burs tin his skull and his hair was incinerated in moments.
Konrad stepped back to admire his handiwork, arms folded partially to hide the trembling in them. Once the flames were lit and out of his control, the pull on his djed did not harm him, but his littler performance... yes, he still needed to rest. He'd need a full meal, too. In fact...
He turned from the sight of the Rujaro's head being burned down to the bone and scooped up some of the crackers and sliced fruits Belinda had been snacking on. Then he turned to Janus - still slack-jawed with shock - and talked with his mouth full.
"Send one a' yer boys t'take the first one back... then have the other'n put up Vincenz. Leave the body a' that wanker 'ere, though. I want him to see it the whole time..."Behind him, someone was praying. He turned around and found Vincenz, kneeling in a spreading pool of piss, hands clasped around some rude icon around his neck, eyes squeezed shut and still leaking tears. The Rujaro's smoldering skull had slumped forward, his agony at an end.
"Youse can go, too, love," he said lightly to Belinda, nodding a brief thanks.
"This one's ready t'talk. But, ah, Janus? Think a little compensation might be in order fer the lady..."
