Twelve: House Mutt

“Get up, lazy mutt.” Bailey yelped as the sharp end of a broom was jabbed into his stomach, violently waking him. He scurried away on his ass until his back hit the wall, and he was forced to look up. A hornless Akkedisian woman loomed over him, a domineering sneer on her scaled face. Her tail flicked impatiently, and she wore a hessian apron around her loose white clothing.

“Msorry…” Bailey muttered, climbing to his knees and receiving a quick swat at his ear. He cringed from the hit, the old Akkedisian chastising him immediately.

“Open your mouth properly to speak, dog. Lord Khasteer does not tolerate mumblers.”

“I’m sorry!” He spat quickly, careful to enunciate the words correctly.  He looked around in a slight panic, searching the slave house. It was a small shed located out the back of the Lord’s manor, and last night he and Garrett had fallen asleep within arm’s reach of one another, close to a window in the corner.

Where is he? He wondered, not seeing the Akita. Hoping he was unharmed, Bailey got to his feet, face downturned to the strict woman. He wore only the pants he had arrived in late last night, still filthy from the old Slave Encampment on the Tevarian side of the city.

“My name is Morika.” The Akkedisian said. She had autumn coloured scales, orange and red mixing with sweet yellows. Most of the Akkedisians Bailey had met were green or blue, this was new to him. “You are to address me as Mother, everyone else does. Here now, put these on – you are filthy.” She pushed a folded set of white-ish clothes into his paws, gesturing for him to strip. He did so blushing, before hurriedly pulling on the itching clothes. He’d gotten so used to just going everywhere shirtless, it felt weird to be so covered now. Morika looked him once over, and seemed satisfied. “Ready?”

“Yes, uh…Mother.” He said awkwardly. Morika nodded, and gestured for him to follow. They pushed outside, and for a second Bailey was blinded by the sudden light, free from the gloomy slave shed. He pulled away, but with a grunt Morika tugged him along towards the manor. Seeing it in the daylight awed him; a six or seven story monstrosity of a thing, with a tall blue peaked roof and decoratively tiled walls, it looked so different to a Tevarian building. There were so many colours on it; it almost hurt to look at. Morika did not slow for his bewilderment however, prattling on about rules.

“You are to be in the house crew, which honestly astounds me, but…Heric was there before and so the Khasteer’s have gotten quite used to…your kind. Not to mention the Lady of course…But we all know how that went…Poor Heric.” She trailed off, muttering Tevarian slurs to herself. She shook her head, refocusing. “It will take some time to get that dog smell out of you, but we’ll manage. You are to bathe on Fifth Day, in the evening. Failure to do so results in punishment. If you are not given a direct instruction, wait by the closest empty wall with your claws…er, paws clasped firmly behind your back.” She spoke very quickly, pausing as they ascended some short cerulean steps to the rear door of the building.

Am I to actually be inside this thing? I thought…He looked behind him, spying several other slaves dressed more loosely toiling in the spacious gardens. He saw Garrett, thrusting a shovel into the earth and grunting from the effort. Knowing the Akita was alright brought a slight flutter of relief to his chest, and he relaxed slightly, pausing to stare at him. He’s so…strong. Mentally, and physically. Bailey was suddenly aware the Akita had nearly killed someone, just yesterday. What is going through his head right now?

Without warning Morika thwacked a short switch across the back of Bailey’s neck, hard. He bit his tongue and shot a paw up to the site, hissing from the pain.

“You are to stand straight at all times, and keep eyes front. Wandering eyes will get you nowhere. You hear nothing that is not said directly to you, and repeating anything you overhear inside to anybody will result in severe punishment. And keep your paws to yourself. Odirium provide, don’t they give you wolves any manners?” She sighed again, muttering to herself before pulling open the door to a kitchen. Several other Akkedisians ran about, carrying loaves of bread or plates or cutlery.

“What’s going on?” Bailey asked, before he could stop himself. Morika grunted.

“The Khasteers are awake and dressing, they’ll be down for morning meal in a few moments. Take those plates from Rhesia and place them around the table in the next room. Hurry now.” Morika left him, barking orders at some of the other slaves. Bailey felt his heart racing, he was so confused. Where was the dining room? He picked up the stack of plates ‘Rhesia’ had left and turned, the question on his lips.

“Wh…”

“Now mutt!” Morika hissed, pointing away. He swallowed, feeling a trembling start up in his stomach, and went the way she pointed. He passed through a set of swinging doors into a massive dining room. The table could probably seat ten people, but he had only three plates. He placed them all together at one end, and then hesitated.

She didn’t say come back…should I stay here at the wall or return? His question was made irrelevant as a second later Morika burst in with a steaming pot of soup in her claws. She placed it delicately in the middle of the table, and then glanced to the plates.

“Look at that. please.” She said tiredly. “Does that look correct to you?” Bailey clutched his paws together in front of his waist.

“Um…” He clutched desperately at memories of how his family had eaten breakfast, but found nothing. How had he done it then? Why couldn’t he…

No…of course, the servants did it. Were they slaves too? I…I don’t even know. Slaves were invisible, little more than living tools. Like a hammer sitting on a desk, there was no reason to think of them regularly; only when one had an errant nail in need of correction.

“Of course not…Trelin, please fix that. We don’t have time for this.” Morika said to a male slave, who made quick work of the plates, spreading them out. Morika looked to Bailey, narrowing her eyes. “You. In the corner, stand there and wait, eyes down, paws behind back. Try not to make a mess of yourself.” Bailey nodded quickly, jumping into the corner. A few more hot servings of food were brought out as he waited, and Bailey eyed them hungrily as they were placed on the table. His mouth watered, but the feeling was quickly replaced with dread as the creature that had two days ago bought him appeared in the doorway.

His mind went blank as Urie Khasteer entered, smiling courteously to Morika as he approached his seat. Bailey saw for a second that spear being rammed through Yuri’s chest, his body jerking once and going limp, the horrified look of shock and exhaustion on Garrett’s face. He could smell the blood, hear Urie’s guards shuffling behind him in the dust. Around him was fear. Dirt in his mouth. Boots. Leather. More blood.

A switch cut across his face, hard enough to slice his flesh and draw a thin line of blood on his cheek. The wound stung, and Bailey looked to see Morika standing in front of him. Her eyes wide and mouth quivering.

“Kneel.” She growled through gritted teeth. Bailey saw the other slaves had gone to one knee with heads bowed, while the three Khasteers stood each behind their chairs and waited. He dropped as fast as he could, sniffling once. Morika ducked down next to him, and the one he assumed was Urie’s father cleared his throat.

“Terribly sorry m’lord, this one is new…a little slow I’m afraid.” Morika said, not even looking up.

“You need a more discerning eye, Urie.” The Lord said in a gruff, disapproving tone. “If you’re bringing rabble into this house, I simply won’t have it.” The son glanced away with a scowl. “And Morika, have this one in better shape by this time tomorrow, understand? You know better.”

“Absolutely m’lord.” The orange scaled woman breathed. Bailey kept his eyes locked on the ground, trying not to let tears well in his eyes. The Lord had such a domineering presence, his voice smothering every ounce of hope Bailey felt, leaving only cold in its place.

So Morika is a slave too then. He thought, paws balled into nervous fists. But she speaks with authority, how does that work?

“Now.” The Lord began, before switching to Akkedisian for a quick speech. To Bailey’s half trained ears, it sounded like maybe a prayer of some kind, to their Godking. He gave his wife some kind of instruction, and the small feminine drake nodded quickly, picking up a small dry leaf from the tables centre and striking a match, holding it beneath the plant. It caught easily, and she let it go, the dried surface vanishing in the air before them as the flames consumed it. Bailey wondered if it had been dipped in oil beforehand. The family stood in silence for another moment, before carefully taking their seats. They began to eat, with little conversation filling the room. As they sat, Bailey saw the other slaves stand slowly, and he followed suit, waiting silently.  

The waiting was agony, as the Akkedisians seemed to take their time deliberately, each one eating slowly and methodically. Eventually however, the small awkward conversation had been made, everyone had finished eating their food, and having their tea, so the family broke. Bailey was ordered to collect the remaining food and take it to the kitchen, before scrubbing the plates clean. Once they were finished, he was given several pieces of stale bread with cheese placed on top of them and sent out to the gardeners. Each of the filthy workers gratefully accepted the food, devouring it.

“Are you alright?” Garrett whispered as he took his own share. Bailey nodded quickly, trying for a smile but giving a grimace instead. Garrett’s pursed his lips. “I’m sorry, I got pulled out early this morning, and there was no time to wake you. We start in the darkness.”

“It’s okay.” Bailey replied. He quickly risked a glance, and saw nobody was looking, stepping slightly behind a plant. “It was terrifying in there.” He gasped, suddenly out of breath. The Akita had forgotten about his bread, and his free paw went to the dried blood in the fur of Bailey’s cheek.

“They hit you already?” He asked, a hard edge to his voice. Bailey brushed the paw away.  

“There are so many new rules, it’s confusing. I keep screwing up.” He said, looking back. “I need to go.” Garrett laid a paw on his arm, and Bailey resisted the urge to pull away. He was so used to being hit and hurt; it felt wrong to be gentle.

“You’ll be okay. You’re strong.” The Akita said, and Bailey smiled. He nodded curtly and hurried back up to the house, where Rhesia thrust some bread into his paws for eating. He quickly chewed it up, starving. He felt marginally better after the ‘meal’, but that feeling was dashed as Urie Khasteer entered the kitchen.

“Morika.” He began. “Why would you think to put that mutt on the house staff, he only just arrived! They were dock workers before! They aren’t house trained!” Morika cowered, but not as much as she had when the Lord spoke at the table. Bailey just chewed his lip, wishing he could be small.

“M’lord…We were short house crew…I thought…I didn’t realise…It wasn’t my decision…” She began, searching for an excuse. Bailey felt…bad for her? Urie raised a fist to his mouth, and at that she pulled away. Bailey knew all too well what that gesture meant. “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

“It was a stupid thing to do.” Urie glowered. He whirled, turning to Bailey. “You. Your name?” He demanded, taking a step closer. Bailey’s ears went flat.

“Um, uh…Ah…Bailey…My…Lord…” He stammered, face burning. He wanted to run, to move, to do anything to get away. His body screamed at him to flee, but he couldn’t move. Urie sighed.

“Don’t use ‘My’, you’re not well spoken enough to try copying proper language.” Bailey nodded furiously, shaking. “It’s just embarrassing for everyone.”

“Yes…m’lord…” Urie came even closer. Bailey could smell him now, the aroma of thick spices mixing in the air.

“And if.” Urie said softly. “You ever make a mistake like this morning’s again; I will have a finger. That’s how things work here. Morika?”

“Trelin!” Morika barked, and a second later the male Akkedisian from earlier appeared. This one had pale red scales, and dark eyes. Two horns sat upright on his head, although one was chipped. “Show the mutt your claw.” Trelin proffered a claw, and Bailey gasped as he saw the smallest finger was missing, the knuckle ending in a stump. Urie reached up to one of his ears and squeezed it, twisting. Bailey yelped as shooting pains fired through his scalp.

“Actions have consequences here, do you understand?”

“Yes…yes m’lord!” Bailey gasped, his vision blurring. Urie squeezed again, and then let go, pivoting suddenly on his heel and vanishing. As he disappeared Morika let out a breath. She glared at the Timberwolf.

“Are you alright kid?” She asked, sounding…tired. Bailey nodded, massaging his ear. “Yeah, that wasn’t so bad. You’ll live.” A claw went to her temple and she sighed.

“Um…can I ask a…question…mother?” He asked, voice in a whisper. Morika nodded. “Why aren’t you speaking the Akkedisian language?” Her eyes went wide.

“You really are from the other side, huh?” She asked, sounding slightly bemused. “Drake slaves don’t get to use that tongue. I understand it, but I am forbidden from ever using it. The punishment is…well, that doesn’t matter. We speak like this.” Bailey shivered, his lower lip quivering.

Do not cry. Do not cry. He willed himself, looking up.

“It’s alright pup.” Morika said. “You’ll learn. Now let’s get you downstairs and into a bath…I don’t want the whole house smelling of dog, or the master’ll have our hides. Go on, get.” Bailey got, following an insistent Rhesia as she led him downstairs. He was allowed to bathe in a lukewarm tub of water, which looked previously used. Still, being submerged in water was a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time. After getting over the shyness of being naked in front of Rhesia, he quickly scrubbed himself, while she scrubbed his clothing, which was apparently already carrying his ‘stench’. Weeks of dirt, sweat, and blood that had been missed by the rain was peeled away as he scratched through his fur, and Bailey felt parts of himself breathe that he’d forgotten he had. It was cold when he got out, but he felt much more awake. It was such a strange paradox. The first time he’d been given such a luxury as a real bath (with soap too!) in his slave life, and it was the same day as one of the most severe threats he’d received. It was almost funny.

Once out of the bath and dressed again, Bailey was whisked off upstairs. The Khasteers had all left the manor, and a slight air of calm descended on the slaves. They worked hard, but Bailey actually saw a few smiles and hushed conversations. Though of course, none spoke to him.

He spent the day learning how to strip a bed and change the sheets, empty chamber pots, and scrub floors. He was chastised multiple times for not being up to standard, since apparently Lord Khasteer (Whose given name he learned was Zakhar) was obsessed with having a clean home.

“Run your claw over that counter top, mutt.” Morika commanded at one point. Bailey was on his knees in a washroom, paws sore and aching from the work, his back throbbing. It was a totally different kind of pain to the one he’d felt in Turin’s crew, and he knew he must be working different muscles here. The tolerance he had slowly cultivated was all but useless now, and as he twisted his neck he heard something in it pop.

“Like that?” He asked meekly, dragging a single digit across the marble. Morika nodded.

“Any dirt in your fur?” Bailey shook his head. “Really? Do not think Lord Khasteer will not notice. He always notices.” Bailey nodded fervently.

“Really mother, here. It’s clean.” He showed his finger. Morika gripped his paw tightly, twisting it to look with a critical eye. She seemed to approve, for she released the extremity and nodded.

“Now you know you are done. Take the mats outside and soak them, then air them up on the line, and bring them back inside. Quickly now.” She turned to go, and Bailey did as instructed. While outside with the mats, dunking them in soapy water cleaner than the one he’d bathed in, he dropped a mat into the dirt, right as Morika had been coming out to check on him. He cowered away from the mistake immediately, and she slapped him across the muzzle.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He blurted, tears rising in his eyes no matter how much he willed them away. Morika sighed.

“I do not like hurting you. But in this household, when we make a mistake, we do not shy away from it. We apologise to our betters and remedy the issue, quickly. Understood?” Bailey nodded, apologising again profusely, picking up the mat and putting it again under the water. He got the muck out eventually, his paws feeling dry and worn afterwards. Once that was done, he was sent to lunch. More work followed in the afternoon, but he was mercifully spared attending the Khasteer’s dinner meal.

“I think tonight it best you are kept away. Go upstairs and make sure the fires are all lit, the Lord likes a warm house to sleep in.” Bailey obeyed, and it was pitch black outside by the time he was released. The one called Rhesia gave him some dinner (room temperature soup) and sent him out to the shed.

Bailey entered timidly, his bowl clutched tight before him. The gardening and outdoor crews had already finished the day’s work, and eleven or so slaves sat around the spacious room, either chatting quietly or sleeping. It took him a minute to orientate himself, but once he had found the corner from last night, he found a certain Akita lounging in it, eyes closed. Garrett opened his eyes and smiled as Bailey sat next to him, close enough they were almost touching.

“You’re only just eating now?” He asked, sitting up and putting himself next to the wolf, the two of them now shoulder to shoulder. Bailey nodded; picking up a piece of stale bread Rhesia had added and dunking it in the tasteless mix. “Are you alright?”

“I’m sore. It was hard.” Bailey replied through a full mouth. Garrett nodded, massaging himself in his own tender places.

“Yeah. We spent the day just…digging and digging, moving dirt from one place to the other. Pulling weeds…I don’t even know why.” He said. His voice trailed off, and he let out a slight growl. “I did see that orange bitch hitting you earlier. Cold blooded bastards.” Bailey shook his head.

“Mother…er, Morika…she isn’t terrible. Just harsh.” He argued, surprising even himself. He slurped up the last of the soup, and put the bowl to the side. “Urie though…Garrett he scares me so much. When I see him I can’t help but think of …what if…I don’t know!” He blurted, ears heating up. He choked back a cry, sniffling. The Akita reached over and took his paw, holding it in his own and pulling it into his lap. Bailey started, unsure how to react. Still, it was a strange sensation, but it didn’t feel bad exactly. Almost nice. He sat silently as the Akita let his thumb rub over the wolf’s palm.

“It’ll be okay.” Garrett said after some time. “We’ll be okay.” Bailey nodded, unsure if he could agree. At least on the Tevarian side of the city, he’d been able to entertain the idea of being freed. Now…there was no end in sight. Nothing seemed to be getting any better. He could feel the tugs of a depression pulling at his feelings, and pushed them away, focusing on Garrett’s warm paws.

That…is nice. He thought, feeling a tightness in his chest.

“Oi, furred buggers.” A scratchy voice said to the side. Bailey pulled his hand quickly away from Garrett, looking up to see a solidly built, brown Akkedisian, two round ram-like horns jutting out the side of his skull. “In here, we put our dishes away. Got it? Ain’t none of us need punishment for your laziness.” He nudged Bailey’s empty bowl with a foot, and the wolf nodded, snatching up the metal dish and standing.

“Um…where…” He asked meekly, looking around. The brown lizard sighed, and Bailey heard Garrett get up behind him. “It’s fine…” He whispered over his shoulder, hoping the Akita didn’t do anything stupid. Finally, the Akkedisian slave pointed to the door.

“Outside. Around the corner there’s a trough. Throw it in there, empties in the morning.” Bailey nodded, pulling away from them and hurrying outside. It was pitch black tonight, the half-moon hidden behind clouds. The air was chilly, and it nipped at his nose. Bailey carefully placed his bowl into the trough he found, which was filled with other, identical bowls, before turning and coming face-to-face with a heavy grey wolf almost a head taller than him. The wolf dropped his own bowl into the trough with a clang, eyes locked onto Baileys. They were a striking green; he could see it even in the darkness.

“Another Tevarian? Where’d you come from pup?” The wolf asked. Bailey swallowed, feeling small. “Other…side of the city, it’s our uh…first day in here.” The wolf nodded.

“I see. I’m Claude.”

“Bailey.”

“And the other? You did say our right?”

“His name is Garrett.”

“Right.” Claude’s eyes ran over Bailey slowly, and he made no attempt to hide the fact. The stare began with his feet and slowly moved up, eventually meeting his eyes again. The wolf reached a paw out and Bailey flinched, but the taller canine just rested it delicately at his neck, stroking the fur. “Morika bath you today?” He asked with a slight laugh. Bailey nodded.

“Yeah…said I stunk of dog.”

“Mhmm. She hates it.” They stood there awkwardly for a second, and Bailey brought up the nerve to speak.

“Um…I…didn’t see you today. I was in the house…are you in the outdoor crew?” Claude shook his head.

“Nah, I’m usually with the house. Lady Oksana likes wolves you see, the fur I think. Today I got pulled out to help on a shopping trip, carrying their luggage, bags, you know. Still saw your fuckup though.” Bailey nodded, leaning back against the side of the house and blushing as the wolf chuckled to himself. Claude too balanced against the wall, looking at him.

“Why? Were you inside?” Bailey nodded. “They put someone brand new in there? Morika’s decision?”

“I…uh, don’t know.”

“Hmm.” Claude pondered this for a minute, and then shrugged. “It was probably Lady Oksana’s request, like I said…she…likes wolves. Look…a fair piece of advice here…if Zakhar is called away, she might request your ‘presence’ in her bedroom. Go quietly, and do everything she asks of you. Nothing bad will happen, so long as you never speak of it. You understand?”

“Wh…what?” Bailey asked, not comprehending.

“It’s a vice the Lord puts up with, so long as he does not see it, and can pretend it doesn’t happen. You two are replacements. One of ‘em that gone was a wolf like you, all fluffy and white though. He and the Lady got a little too friendly, and the Lord found out.” Bailey swallowed. He bit his lip, fingers digging into his palm.

“What…happened?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Claude smirked. He pressed a paw to Bailey’s stomach, and slowly let it slide downward.

“First he took that.” He said, paw stopping just above where Bailey’s sheath was. The paw then traced up his front, eventually pausing at the neck. Bailey didn’t like the sensation, but he didn’t know how to make the wolf stop. He was too worried if he pulled away, Claude would just move forwards. The grey wolf’s paws traced a few patterns beneath Bailey’s jaw, before his thumb settled on a particularly soft spot of flesh. “Then he put a hook through that, an’ hung him up. The screams were awful.” Bailey swallowed, and Claude laughed.

“I won’t tell anyone.” He whispered, hoping it never came to that. Claude clapped him suddenly on the shoulder.

“I’m sure you won’t. Besides, it’s almost fun with her.” He turned to go behind the shed, where Bailey knew the slaves had a makeshift kind of toilet. “See you around, Bailey.” He called.

“Bye.” After a second of standing meekly, Bailey turned and went back inside the shed, finding Garrett and falling down next to him, shivering.

“You took a long time out there…I was about to come find you. What happened?” The Akita asked. Bailey just shook his head.

“I…there’s another Tevarian here.” He whispered. “He’s called Claude. I’m fine.” He glanced away.

“Oh. Um…okay.” Garrett replied hesitantly. He clearly didn’t accept everything as fine, but he let it drop. They sat in silence for a while, and eventually Bailey let his head fall onto Garrett’s shoulder. They sat like that for a few minutes, Claude waving from across the room as he found his own secluded place. It wasn’t just because they were new; there was a distinct disconnect between the Akkedisians and the Tevarians.

What a shame. Bailey thought.