Mr Moore tried to protest, but Simon brushed past him without acknowledgement and led Danya out of the room. He was close to bursting with fury that Danya was sure would be taken out on him. It wasn’t until they reached the stables that Danya realised Hamish wasn’t with them.

The stable boy took one look at Simon and immediately made himself scarce. Danya wished he could do the same, but there was no escaping whatever Simon decided to do to let out his anger. 

Instead, Simon ignored him, found his horse, and started roughly saddling the black mare to ride. 

“Um.” Danya took a step away from the wall and licked his lips. When Simon continued to ignore him, he spoke up. “I can be useful, sir.”

Simon looked at him over his horse’s back, his eyes sweeping down Danya’s body. “It’s clear what use they planned for you to be.”

Danya fiddled with the tie that was the only thing holding the narrow strip of fabric around his hips in place. He swallowed hard. “Yes. I can take this off if you like, sir.”

Disgust overtook Simon’s anger and made Danya’s heart sink. “Just… shut up. Stop talking.”

Danya felt sick. If Simon wasn’t even attracted to men — and his disgust certainly suggested that — then Danya stood no chance. One of the other boys, with their prettier looks and their greater charms, might have managed it, but Danya was well aware he didn’t remotely have what it took to convince a man to compromise on his sexuality.

It was a relief when Hamish returned, the tube containing Danya’s papers in hand. He gave Danya a bop on the ass with it in passing before handing it over to Simon. “You had me starting to think I was going to have to restrain you in there. The poor idiot’s just really confused.”

“He bought me a slave. What was that poor idiot even trying to do?”

“Ingratiate himself, obviously. He dropped a decent amount of money fucking up this badly.”

“Well, that makes me feel a little better.”

Hamish flashed him a grin, but it quickly dropped away again. “You have to be more subtle, Simon. Men like him talk, and they’re not as toothless as they might seem.”

“He’s a coward. I know that doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous.”

“Fortunately, I think his head’s imbedded too far up his own ass for him to figure out what really got you so angry. Kept saying he didn’t mean to imply anything about your sexual tastes. So now he seems to just think you’re desperately insecure. Like, you’re definitely going to fuck that slave, but nobody damn well better think you’re doing it by preference.”

“Ah, yes. The military way.”

“Pretty much. Look, everything’s fine, okay? Just…” Hamish gave Danya a wary glance. “Play the part that’s expected of you.”

“I never thought we’d see the day when you would lecture me on subtlety.”

“Ha!”

“Mostly because I never thought you’d live this long.”

“Well, you have only yourself to blame for that.”

“We all make mistakes.”

Danya had been so focussed on Simon and Hamish that he hadn’t even noticed Baine approach until he tapped quietly against the stable doorway. 

Simon immediately turned and fixed him with a glare. “What do you want?”

Baine hesitated, sending an uncertain glance in Danya’s direction before turning back to Simon and taking a step forward. “My master wanted me to encourage you to let him take Danya back so that he can get rid of him, sir. He has other entertainment available that might be a better match for your, ah... tastes. If you like.”

“I didn’t ask what your master wanted and I don’t want to know.”

“Ah.” Baine took a step back, paused, then took a deep breath and stood up taller. “Well… I wanted to ask if you would let me give Danya my robe. He’s underdressed for riding, sir.”

“He’s underdressed, period,” Simon commented, then waved a dismissive hand in their direction as he turned away. “Yes, that’s fine.”

Baine stripped out of his long, crimson dress robe and helped Danya into it, communicating with looks and touch the things they couldn’t say with words when they weren’t alone — apologies he didn’t owe and hopes that things would work out better than seemed possible just then. They had only known one another a few hours, but he already felt like a friend.

By the time Danya was dressed, the horses were ready and Simon was growing impatient. Danya gave Baine a nod of thanks, took a deep breath, and turned to face his increasingly uncertain new life.

When Danya tried to follow Hamish, the less volatile of the two, he gave Danya a shove on the back of the head and pointed him towards Simon. “Ride with your master, pup.”

For a moment, Simon looked as though he might send him away as well, but then he reached down, grabbed Danya by the arm, and pulled him up behind himself with a single, painful tug.

Danya’s whole body prickled as the heat of Simon’s energy bled into him, almost too intense for a moment before he adjusted to the new sensation. He didn’t even notice he had wrapped his arms around Simon and leant into him until the horse started to move and he had to cling even tighter.

Danya had listened to Duran gush about his master late into the night so many times, but he’d never really felt like he understood. Now he was beginning to see what Duran had meant when he’d said that the touch of the right human would make even the most reluctant slave happy to serve.

Physical contact with other mages was good. It balanced the magic within him and kept him healthy and stable. But this… this was intoxicating. Danya wished he could put his hands on Simon’s bare skin, wished he could convince Simon to soften to him and offer in abundance what now passed between them only reluctantly. He craved that intensity, that joyous glow of strength and tranquility that emanated from Duran after a long night with his master.

Just as much, he wanted to be loved. To be useful, to be wanted, to have a place and purpose. To not have to wonder, every single day, how much longer his inadequacy would be tolerated. Simon hadn’t wanted to let Mr Moore dispose of him, but had that merely been an act of stubborn spite? He clearly didn’t actually want to keep him.

Danya pressed in closer against Simon’s back. If this was all he would be allowed, then he would enjoy it for what it was.

About ten minutes later, the horses slowed, and Danya peeked around Simon’s back to see a sea of lights beyond tall gates that were already opening for them. A military base. They had mostly used lanterns or their own magelight at Milaine House, but the base was lit by huge, bright, electric lights.

Hamish explained Danya’s presence to the men guarding the gate without delving into any of the discontent surrounding his acquisition and provided them his papers for confirmation. Simon waited, silent and pensive, until they were allowed in. The gates looked like perhaps they were originally designed to open electronically, but now the guards just dragged the heavy mental gates open to let them through.

Simon seemed determined to ignore Danya’s very existence as he climbed off his horse and left Danya on her alone as he led her towards the stables. He might well have handed him over to the stable boy along with his horse if Hamish hadn’t suddenly appeared to help him down.

With no orders or even acknowledgement of his existence given to him, all Danya could do was hurry to follow behind Simon as he made his way through rows of tents. Simon didn’t so much as spare a glance back at him before suddenly disappearing inside one of them.

Danya hesitated outside, unsure whether Simon expected him to follow or not. So far, he seemed to simply be hoping that if he pretended firmly enough that Danya didn’t exist, it would become reality.

Well, it wouldn’t. At least not without some action on Simon’s part. Mr Moore had offered to make that happen and Simon had firmly declined, so for now he would just have to deal with Danya’s continued existence. Danya pushed aside the flap and peered cautiously into the tent.

Simon was crouched in a corner, becoming mildly annoyed at a lamp as he fought to get it lit in the dark. He startled and glanced back when Danya sent up a ball of light to illuminate his work.

“Magelight,” Danya explained.

Simon grunted and returned his attention to the lamp, getting it lit a moment later, but the brief acknowledgement felt like a victory. With orders clearly not likely to be issued any time soon, Danya found a clear spot on the floor of the small tent and sat down.

At first he had thought Simon was testing him, seeing how long he could obey the command to stay quiet, but he was starting to realise Simon was just tired and perhaps a little overwhelmed. A man who had earned status rather than been born into it might not even understand the role of a Companion.

“I really can be useful, sir,” Danya said, and then when Simon gave him a tired look, hurried to add, “Not like that. Not if you don’t want. I can use my magic to clean and repair things, and I can do the same work as a human servant without pay. Or maybe there are others who would pay for my company, if—”

Simon reached his hand under his jacket and pulled out a hidden knife.

Danya sat very still. Simon had told him to shut up, to stop talking, and he had disregarded that command. He had been given a chance to prove his obedience, and instead he had shown himself to be willful and annoying.

He knew he ought to fight back, to pull out every power he had kept hidden away, and… and… probably still die, but at least in a way that meant something. At least in a way that would make Simon see him as something more than an inconvenience before he spilled his blood, even if that something was a threat.

Instead, all he could do was watch as Simon came closer, shut his eyes as he felt cold metal against his skin… and then pull back with a gasp as Simon suddenly pulled the knife towards himself and something fell into Danya’s lap.

As Simon went to return his knife to the sheath hidden beneath his jacket, Danya stared down at the leather collar in his lap in disbelief. It had a clasp! He could have just… 

But of course, that wasn’t the point. The point was that he would need to do better if he expected Simon to put up with him. The point was that Simon could kill him, and next time he might choose to.

There was still a tense silence between them when Hamish pushed through the tent flap a few minutes later and shoved a pile of bedding towards Danya before turning to Simon. “Figured your cot here’s not really big enough for two.”

Simon made a vague sound of acknowledgement and began stripping out of the formal attire he’d worn to the party.

Hamish sighed. “Look, I can take him tonight if you want. We’re close friends. Nobody would think it was strange for you to share him with me.”

“They’d find it odd that I let you have the first night with him.”

“Oh. Yeah. Okay, scratch that idea.”

Simon tossed his dress shirt aside and stretched out his arms. He had a kind of lean musculature that had been hidden under the formal clothing. “Don’t worry about it. You were right before. Everything will be fine as long as we don’t draw attention to the situation.”

“I’m always right, Simon. Always.”

Simon tossed his pants in the general direction of his bag, sat down on his cot, and turned his attention to Danya. “I expect your discretion. If anyone starts asking you questions about what we do or don’t do together, what kind of master I am, anything like that, that’s none of their business.”

“Of course not, sir. I know not to gossip.”

“Good. Now Hamish can fuck off and let us get some sleep. I’m more than ready for this day to be over.”

Hamish shot Danya a mock-offended look. “You see how he treats me now that he outranks me? No respect.”

“This is exactly the same amount of respect I’ve always had for you.”

“Wow. True, but wow.”

Simon pointed towards the tent flap. “Out.”

Hamish was laughing as he left, and Simon no longer looked quite so tense.

Danya waited for instructions, but when Simon lay down on his cot and blew out the lantern it became clear none were forthcoming. He quickly made his own bed out of the bedding Hamish had provided and settled in for the night.

It was impossible to sleep, of course. So much had happened, and it was all so bad — but not as bad as it could have been, of course, because he was still alive. Simon had, for some reason, not wanted him killed. Would that last, though? Danya clearly was not wanted and Simon seemed to think owning him would be a disruption to his life.

If everything truly was hopeless, Danya promised himself he would do everything he could to escape. He didn’t know if he could get the tracking chip out of his wrist, nor where he could run to if he did get away, but if he was going to die, he needed it to be on his terms.

If they wouldn’t let him live as a slave, he wasn’t going to die as one.