To Serve Two Masters by Gordon Neale

Author:Gordon Neale
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780753542446
Publisher: Ebury Publishing

Eight

Dorian had been at his studies all day and had arrived home in the early evening looking forward, as usual, to his time with Rock by the pool. He had left his slave-lover working on some domestic chores. He’d ceased to bother fettering him during the day: he knew Rock would make no attempt to escape. Even at night, the ankle chain seemed extraneous, but Dorian liked to see it there and had not yet given it up. Rock was always obedient and never made any comment, whether he was chained or not.

Dorian was surprised, therefore, not to find him where he expected him to be. He called Rock’s name and received no answer.

He gave way to a sudden feeling of panic. Had his beautiful boy escaped? Escaped from what? From him, Dorian? From slavery? And to what?

No, he told himself, it was impossible. Rock would never do such a thing. The slave’s feelings of loyalty to his young master were as strong as any chains. Besides, he knew he would never get very far. He could expect either to be recaptured and returned, or to be stolen by a trader and sold to somebody else. Most likely he would find himself in the hands of a slaver who cared nothing for him beyond the obvious financial value he had.

His absence, then, could only mean one thing: Carlos was home.

Dorian went over to his brother’s part of the house. His heart was thumping. He didn’t really have to stretch his imagination to guess what he would find, and it wasn’t as though Rock hadn’t been warned and prepared. All the same, he didn’t want Rock to have to suffer.

Dorian considered volunteering his own body in Rock’s place, but he was more than likely going to be too late.

He arrived at Carlos’s door and knocked. There was no reply. He tried the handle. It turned: the door was not locked. It was true then. Carlos was home.

Inside, the curtains were drawn against the strong, early-evening sun. The bed was made up with white, light cotton sheets and a heavier, red counterpane. There was no sign of anyone.

‘Carlos!’ he called, still hoping to get no reply. ‘Carlos, are you back?’

Dorian ventured further into the room; it was indeed empty. He crossed over and pushed open the small door at the back and went down the three or four stairs into the dressing room. It, too, was empty, although clothes were scattered about on the floor. He looked towards the wall where Carlos proudly displayed his special whip and his belts. He always maintained he kept them there as a warning to his subordinates – and to his brother. Dorian had always known this to be only partly true. Carlos liked to see them because they gave him a feeling of power.

They were gone.

Their absence confirmed what Dorian had supposed: Carlos was using them. Dorian knew who the unfortunate recipient would surely be.

At the back of the house was a small yard which Carlos had long ago claimed as his own space.

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