Fan Fiction ❯ The Ties That Bind ❯ Beginnings ( Chapter 2 )

Chapter 2 - Beginnings

"So it begins." The sound of the voice attached to those simple words was a hushed, sinful whisper that was the epitome of cultured eloquence. In the background, the gentle sounds of Beethoven played amidst the distant, soothing music of water falling into a pool.

"Everything is in motion as you expressed, my lord." This voice was nasal and grating as well as being utterly subservient to the owner of the smoother tones. Low tinges of fear also laced every word, though it would take a master of inflections and nuances of tone to have picked it up. That undercurrent was there, cutting through each and every syllable the annoying voice produced.

"Do any of the other Speakers know of your existence?" The Lord asked in a deceptively quiet, conversational tone.

"None that I am aware of. I have been most discrete in all my dealings as you specified." The servant quickly reassured the other with a deep swallowing sound. The beautifully appointed chambers he was being received in seemed too small and confining with each passing word. True fear began to trickle down the curve of his spine in a line of cold, rank sweat.

"You are sure of this?" The one he addressed as my lord said again in that mildly polite voice of his. Rumor had it that some had sold their souls to simply listen to him talk and say the tritest of phrases. Although, anyone asking this man to do anything he did not wish to do was a death wish. Many speculated about this mysterious benefactor of the servant though only where he could not hear it.

"I would stake my life upon it, my lord. My will is to serve you." The servant reported at his most obsequious. He prayed to whatever gods that had not forsaken him yet that the terror he was speaking with would believe him and not know of the tentative plans of his own he had set into motion. His life depended upon his lord not finding out anything until the servant was too far away to touch. The question of if such a distance existed was not one any could have answered for the lord had a very long reach.

"Good because your life depends upon your discretion." The smooth, pleasant voice came out softly, caressing the very air like a velvet hand between servant and lord. The servant shivered all over involuntarily and hoped against all hope that he was safe. Nothing was ever certain within the world he lived and dealt. His greatest hope was to simply buy his way out of it or scheme his way out. Whatever it took he would be free of the politics and magic he had fallen into.

Whatever it took.

"Yes, my lord." The nasal, grating voice came out once again in quick, almost too hasty response. It was a sure sign the man was hiding something but he was not apt enough to know he was betraying everything to his lord and master.

"I trust there will be no more incidents such as what happened at Stonehenge." The quiet response had an edge of steel that made the other man flinch and sweat even harder.

Stonehenge.

Everyone wanted to forget that little `incident', most of all those most intimately involved.

"Incidents?" The servant asked, trembling slowly and failing to meet the piercing gaze of his lord.

"Did I stutter?" The lord responded, casting a disdainful look at the man standing before him and sweating like a pig. He began to question the usefulness of this particular servant and if it had, perhaps, run out at last.

"N..n..no. You are referring to the accident with the silver medallion of Antioch." The servant whispered quietly, knowing his lord would hear it regardless of the volume level of his annoying voice.

"Good help is truly hard to find these days. Where is the medallion now?" The lord inquired offhandedly, almost as if he had not spent the past months bending all of his will and resources to finding that lost medallion with a focus that bordered beyond obsession.

"No one seems to know, my lord, but the network is searching even now at your orders." The servant answered in the same way he had since the fiasco that had lost sight of that ancient relic that according to myth and legend held unspeakable power for the chosen few that had the right attributes to work the piece of metal. For anyone else, it was supposedly just a worthless, shiny piece of junk.

"You have not been dallying instead of looking for the relic as I ordered you to have you?" The soft voice asked the question while taking on an even darker edge that the servant did not like at all. The edge that he prayed he was not hearing could only mean one thing.

"Never, my lord." The servant swore furiously and with absolute conviction, knowing as the words left his mouth that his lord and master heard the falseness of them. He was doomed out of his own mouth. He could only hope that his hastily laid plans would survive his death and the intrigues of his lord.

"Really."

"Absolutely, my lord. My will is but an extension of your every desire, wish and com--!"

The nasal voice was cut off abruptly as every pore of his body poured blood. Darkly shining, crimson that soaked along his body and into his clothes before dripping thickly onto the plush, maroon carpeting causing the thick fabric literally squish with it. Barely enough wind rushed out of blood filled lungs to fuel the screams that did not die away for several minutes after the useless waste of space that had been the lord's servant finally escaped into death.

A quiet knock upon the door roused the man revealed only in that brief conversation as lord to speak in a husky voice, thick almost as if from an act of pleasure or too much exertion, "Enter."

"The boy is here to see you, Lord Oklesta, as you commanded. Shall I show him into the front sitting room?" the soft voice of a house servant spoke from the doorway, noting the stinking pile of blood, shit and questionable fluid that had recently been a breathing man. She did not even bat an eyelash at the mess as she stepped within the room enough to hear the lord's response.

"Aye, show him into the sitting room to await my pleasure there, Jasmine. See to the mess upon the floor," Oklesta said quietly and with an amused smirk.

"At once, Lord," she said softly, backing out quickly to impinge upon his privacy no more than was necessary. The entire house staff knew better than to intrude when the Lord of StormRaven Manor was in a killing mood. All within knew to do so was to incite his lust or killing rage towards them and neither was something you tempted unless you were a fool or more powerful than he.

"So it begins in blood and carnage. Nothing less would have satisfied," he said softly with a flash of white within the shadows of the room to reveal the sickening, sensual smile that slide across his face. The sound of water falling and Beethoven still played on, oblivious to the death that only they had bore witness to.