The Aeterna Empire

Chapter 20 - House of Revue

Fereren put down the book and pinched his nose.

"Army, my arse." He whispered, so as to not disturb his son's slumber. "This isn't an army. Its not even a militia." As it turned out the former general's grand army he would need to use in escaping the slaver empire was the slaves themselves.

Fereren stepped into the next room and looked at his son. His son, his heir, was pale as snow and just as cold to the touch. Yet, he knew better. What he had endured should have, would have, killed him. What's more, despite recovery being months coming, he still made small efforts if Valspear's testimony isn't an exaggeration. His little soldier's fire was still burning.

Fereren felt a noose around his neck. The former king of Kes had given him a noose to hang himself with, and now he knew it.

He was in a position where he couldn't abandon his friend, his people, his son. So long as their will burned, he would happily hang himself on any and every noose Caius could come up with. He just needed to figure out how to make it work.

Yes, Caius may have worked with Valspear to get his son out of that death prison, but a thought went through Fereren's mind now that the shock was past.

"How did Caius know where you were?" Fereren wondered outloud. He brushed his son's sickly oiled hair away from his face. "Of the hundreds of thousands of slaves here, how did you find you? Something doesn't add up. We can't be that lucky."

The touch disturbed Aelius slightly, so the boy turned into it and continued snoring. Fereren smiled warmly. After a moment he left and returned to the table.

His feet crunched on paper, and he bent down to pick it up. However, before he put it back with the other documents, it caught his eye. This paper wasn't numbers and buyers and sellers, it was entirely different. This was law. An ugly, unorganized scribble of notes and thoughts pertaining to different laws, to be more specific, and all of it was in his native language. Even more than that, it was handwriting notation of Kes nobility, a specific kind meant to make them more elegant, fancy, and, in his opinion, a touch vain.

---

Night came suddenly. Fereren found a candle set and lit it for himself and Aelius. He placed one on the floor and sat next to his sun, continuing to read.

It was at this time that Valspear and Slavian returned. The former trudged his way in, his back bowed and sluggish. The latter bounded off the walls laughing and making a racket, bursting into the room with them, and coming to an abrupt halt under Fereren's disapproving glare.

"Where is the Cynn-Blood?" Fereren asked, noting his absence.

"Off to rest." Valspear answered. He collapsed into a chair and leaned back against the wall. "Slavian ran us out."

"Literally." Slavian smirked. He pranced over to Aelius and immediately poked him in the face with a finger. Fereren's smack to the face was swift and heavy, sending the older boy back, clutching his face in mostly shock.

Aelius stirred enough to make coherent words. Fereren sighed, pointed a finger at the older boy, and held his gaze, ensuring he had the young man's attention. "You can tell him how your day went. But you will not poke and prod him as if he is an animal, especially in his sleep. Got it, child?"

"You smacked me." He whispered.

"Yes. Have you noticed your Soran-Blood bodyguard did not stop me? He disapproves of you as well, but is too polite to say so. I get you are from Ref, but among the civilized world everyone disciplines children into proper behavior, otherwise you will grow into an adult finding enemies everywhere you go and likely dead. Do it again, and my response will be no less swift and painful. Now, do you understand, child?"