The Copper Horse #1 Fear (9 page)

Reuben gave him an astounded look, trying to understand the machinery. He decided not to ask right now and slowly got into the tiny tiled room. The water looked so clean and fresh. He and his father always used rainwater for washing. It didn't make them much cleaner, because of all the smoke in the air.

"I'm gonna give you a thorough bath," Jack said and took off the waistcoat.

Reuben slouched and smiled at the thought. "I can't remember the last time I got a proper bath."

Jack rolled up his sleeves and spread a red blanket on the floor by the tub before closing the door behind them. "Get on your hands and knees."

"Huh?" Reuben looked from him, to the tub, to the blanket and then to Jack again. His eyes widened in recognition when he saw the boy holding a large rubber bubble.

Reuben shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I... uhm, I'm healthy. I don't need that." Enemas were considered a remedy for many kinds of sicknesses, but he never had one. Was there no end to his humiliation?

Jack frowned as if he didn't understand. "It's the master's orders."

"But why?" Reuben moaned and hugged himself as if it could help his nakedness at all. "I've had this lice stuff in my hair and they shaved my pubes." He pointed to his crotch. "What else does he want?"

Jack sighed and gave him a sympathetic smile. "We don't question Master Erik. He saved your life, so be grateful and do as I say."

"Never? You never question it? How about we just tell him you've done it, huh? Easier for both you and me." Reuben forced a smile. It was worth a try.

Jack's face went blank and he looked away, lips pressing into a thin line. "No."

Reuben scowled and swore beneath his breath, but he got down to his hands and knees, eager to get this over with as soon as possible. There were few things he could imagine to be more embarrassing. Maybe being caught spreading his legs for a man. But then again, that was exactly what he was to be doing now.

"Thank you. Master made me responsible for your actions." Jack's voice was tinted with relief, but it didn't sweeten the discomfort Reuben felt when he heard water filling the rubber enema bulb.

Reuben just frowned and bowed his forehead to the floor to hide his face. He actually hoped it wouldn't be pleasant, because getting hard in this situation was the last thing he wanted on display. Since Jack didn't look like a trained physician, it might be the case.

The water flow stopped and Reuben could feel Jack's warmth behind him. It made him curl his toes. What a stupid reminder of male closeness it was. Oh, well, he was certain all the comfort would be gone within sec—

Reuben's train of thought came to an abrupt stop when Jack pushed the slippery nozzle into his ass. All he could do was whimper and tense up all his muscles. It didn't really hurt, but the discomfort combined with embarrassment made him want to crawl under the tub. Jack's hand on the small of his back was more humiliating than soothing, even though Reuben knew it wasn't meant like that.

"There. I'll do it slow." And with that, he must have pressed on the enema bulb, because Reuben felt liquid warmth entering him.

"Shut your gob. It's not you with a tube up your ass," he spat into the floor with hands clenched into fists.

Jack's exhale came as a pang to his conscience. The boy didn't say anything more, applying water deep into Reuben's colon. It was becoming uncomfortable and warm and strange, and all he could do was bite down on his lip and wait for it to be over. At some point, the pressure became so unpleasant that he complied with Jack's advice and started gently pressing on his stomach. It was only a slight relief, but soon after, the boy took the nozzle out and Reuben clenched his anus with a yelp. An embarrassing leak was the last thing he wanted.

"All right." Jack got up and strolled next to Reuben to get a copper bucket from the corner.

Reuben's whole body trembled from the pressure and mix of emotions. He chose to remain silent, not to lose focus. The sound of the bucket hitting the floor tiles made him whimper.

"Do you want to use it now or you'd rather wait?" Jack had to be displeased with him to be so cold.

"Now, please." It came out a lot more high pitched than he would have wished, and Reuben shut his eyes even tighter. Jack wrapped his hands around his torso, helping him up and on the bucket, which turned out to have a comfortable wooden seat on top. Reuben didn't even notice how sweaty he'd gotten. As humiliating as it was, emptying his bowels made him feel clean and lighter than ever. He didn't even fuss with Jack when the boy helped him into the tub. Submerged in the heart-melting warmth of the water, he was ready to let all the unpleasantries and horrors of the day wash off.

Chapter 7

After the bath, he was as clean as ever and the metal collar was taken off. The enema had left him strangely light, but he was still stuck at the humiliation of being watched by Jack.

He'd even gotten a shirt and trousers from another servant, much to Jack's disapproval. Reuben was taken to a tiny room with no windows and got to eat a delicious meal by candle light. It helped the knot at the pit of his stomach unwind, even though the room was locked, like a prison cell. He tried to keep it together and stop being so anxious, but after all that had happened that day, Erik seemed like a very scary man. What kind of slave did he want him for? A kitchen worker? Was he supposed to work on a farm? Even thinking about being outside the safe city walls made him nervous again. All he hoped for, though, was that he would never ever have to step foot in that arena again.

Suddenly, he heard the clang of a heavy, metal bolt, and Jack went through the door. His large, attentive eyes studied Reuben for a moment, but then Jack gestured for him to follow.

"Where are we going?" Reuben stood up immediately. "What will I be doing?"

Jack turned to look at him as they went through a magnificent corridor, richly decorated with oriental wallpapers, golden and crystal lamps, as well as real oil paintings, exceptionally rare and expensive since the start of the Plague.

"Master will tell you everything," Jack replied curtly, although Reuben could see a glimmer of something else behind the carefully stoic mask.

"So we're going to see him now? My, he must be filthy rich." Now, after the bath and food, he was much more relaxed. He looked around and tried to get a glimpse of everything, to work out where the doors and staircases were. At some point, a weird smell reached his nose, as if they were close to a haystack. Before he could decide what to do about it, Jack opened a double sided door and gestured for him to come inside.

Reuben swallowed, straightening his back to look taller, and went in with hesitation. He had no idea what to expect, this part of the city was alien to him. He stopped, shocked, as he saw a large room that seemed very... equestrian. The floor was covered with a thin layer of dark green carpeting, the walls and ceiling paneled with wooden planks. To the left, Reuben saw a whole collection of saddles and other riding gear, as well as horse grooming tools hanging straight from hooks on the wall or neatly organized on shelves made of rough wood. There were also items that he could not identify, although he was pretty sure he saw three horse tails gathered in thick rubber sheaths. The wall to the right looked like the inside of a stable with two horse stalls. The small door covering the bottom part of the stall farther away from him held a polished metal nameplate, which he could not read from here. He now understood where the smell came from: there was hay sticking out from inside the indoor barn, as well as three large bales of it in one of the corners. Suddenly, the door behind Reuben slammed shut.

A chill went down his spine as he looked around the room once more. Was it possible that there was anywhere safe around Bylondon for riding a horse? Or would the master of the house just keep them here as pets? But if there were horses in this place, why didn't he smell them? Surely, no real stable could be this clean...

A noise brought him to his senses, and as he looked up, he saw a man in full riding gear exit the second stall. He was of average built and height, but the red, fitted jacket, tight breeches and shiny black boots complimented his manly posture. He was pale, with large, bright eyes, a straight nose and luscious lips; his sharp, yet angular jaw was in stark contrast to the otherwise delicate features. The man wore his longish hair neatly combed with a part at the right side of his head.

Reuben blinked, not expecting someone so handsome judging by the terror he instigated in other people. Reuben wasn't sure if he should greet him, or smile, or kneel, so after a moment of hesitation, he just stood there by the door, looking intensely at the man who was his new owner. It was nice to know that he was going to have someone as handsome as that around. Even if they wouldn't probably see much of each other.

"Come here, Copper!" the man said and tchicked a few times.

"Huh?" Reuben blinked and couldn't help a scowl. Was he to always to be called by an offensive nickname? "My name is Reuben, sir. Thank you for taking me off the arena." When he slowly approached Bluefinger, it became clear that he towered over his new master by almost a head.

"I said you're 'Copper'." His new master didn't even look at him, taking off one of his leather gloves. "Even your new lodgings confirm that."

Reuben followed his gesture to look at the stall. Now that he was closer, he saw that it did in fact state 'Copper' on the nameplate. "Say again?" He frowned, completely clueless as to what the man meant.

"Strip." Bluefinger looked straight back at Reuben, who suddenly realized that the man had eyes of different colors: one was blue, the other one brown, both pale and watery.

Nerves got the best of him and he could feel himself flushing. "I didn't get bitten! I wasn't even close to them!" Reuben assured him, becoming increasingly tense. "They checked me on my way out of the building!"

"I said strip!" Bluefinger raised his voice as he lifted a riding crop in warning.

Reuben let out a loud grunt of anger but started taking off his clothes hastily, to get this check over with. He knew that some people were obsessive about any contact with the undead, so he couldn't blame his new master.

His shirt landed on the green carpet, and a moment later, so did his borrowed trousers. He crossed his arms on his chest looking at Bluefinger with a pout of dissatisfaction. He did plan to be obedient and pleasing, but his temper was getting the best of him.

"I am Erik." His master's voice was quiet as he approached him, lazily walking behind Reuben's back. "Remember it, Copper. In case anyone wants to know to whom you belong."

Reuben assumed this new, silly nickname must have been given due to the color of his hair and that it wasn't going away. He considered that pretty childish, but two could play this game. "Any last name?" He raised his eyebrows. "Your accent's not from around here. Will anyone actually know you?" Judging by how people acted around Erik, he assumed everyone did, but he still chose to challenge him.

"They should." Reuben heard Erik walk farther away. "I am the Bluefinger, the Dal forger, after all."

Reuben followed his master with his gaze and picked up his trousers from the floor. He had a bad feeling about all of this, and 'Bluefinger' didn't make him feel any better. "And you're saying it just like that? To me?" Even if this place was as lawless as they claimed in London, it was still shocking to hear someone boasting about being a forger. The man was awfully confident for his size.

"Why wouldn't I? You're my property," he explained and suddenly looked back with a scowl. "Drop them and look in front of you! Now." The commanding tone made it clear that he would not tolerate any disobedience.

Reuben growled, irritated. "Haven't you checked for bite marks yet?" he asked but looked where he was told to. The thought of being someone's 'property' made him shudder.

"I'm not looking for bite marks." From the sound of it, Erik was walking back to him.

"I ain't got no scratches either." Reuben rolled his eyes, refusing to let go of the trousers. He was willing to work, but this was absurd. The man was obviously younger and weaker than him and there he was, walking around as if he were a king.

"Give me both of your hands." Erik stopped right behind Reuben's back, his warm breath teasing the bare shoulder blades.

Reuben looked over his arm again, feeling suddenly nervous. Even when working for his father, he was never ordered around this much. "Did I offend you, sir?" he asked, trying to redeem himself.

"Give me your hands and don't move," was all Erik gave him as he touched Reuben's nape with a warm hand.

Reuben swallowed. There was something sinister about how calm this man was. With each passing second, he felt more panicked. What if he was one of those demon possessed people one hears about now and then? Some of them took pleasure in eating human flesh. His heart started pounding faster as he slowly moved his hands to the back. Erik immediately grabbed one of his wrists in a tight grip.

"Don't move or it will hurt, Copper," breathed Erik, slipping some sort of leather band on and tightening it around the wrist.