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Momir the Houndmaster

AUTHOR NOTE: Hi readers, this story is an *UNFINISHED* draft.

It's the sequel to something I wrote and put out years ago. There's a substantial amount of work in this draft, but I haven't touched it in a long time and at this point I don't think I'm going to return to it.

I considered deleting it, but I decided to publish it instead because I was happy with how it was going at one time, and it's more content for Zayir, a setting that I want to flesh out more fully in the future.

Please consider whether you are interested in reading an unfinished work before you dive in. If you haven't read the first chapter (I imagine you probably haven't) you might want to start there and then decide if you want to continue. This story is not a direct continuation of the first, but it builds on context from there.

This piece is mostly sex, but it introduces some characters who may return in other work in the future. If you read on, I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a comment if you have anything to say.

Kisses <3

*****

'That damn animal,' Momir thought to himself as he climbed a winding staircase two steps at a stride.

For two months, probably, he had languished in Rabbit's boudoir, marking the passage of time by her comings and goings. His command of her language had improved, and a routine of sorts had developed between his master and himself.Momir the Houndmaster фото

It almost seemed that there were times when Rabbit was willing to acknowledge him as an individual instead of simply a prop for her melancholy fantasies of her past. Frustrating though she often was there were undeniable pleasures in living as her pet, but he was often bored to distraction.

Time ran together so that he had only a faint notion of how long he'd been with her. He was never hurried, never late, for there was never anywhere to be. He'd almost forgotten what it was like. Until today.

He often slept late into the day, waking as the sun was sinking in the sky, while Rabbit rarely rose before dusk. In the last hours before twilight he often went walking, to stretch his limbs and absorb what little sunlight he could before returning to the windowless widows' den.

The previous day as he had stood in one of the sun lounges that served the upper floors of the palace, admiring the view out over the bustling cityscape of Zayir offered by a window that occupied the entire exterior wall, a message-runner had found him.

The tiny crook-backed homunculus flew close and offered a note to him, waving it insistently when he was slow to take it. He reached out, and the messenger departed as soon as his fingers closed on the missive.

On it, in an elegant script, was written:

"Momir Oridune-

Meet with me in my throne room tomorrow, an hour past dawn. We have business to discuss."

The short message was signed with the lord Kesset's mark.

He had returned home that evening filled with apprehension, then was occupied with filling Rabbit's needs when she awoke soon after. He labored faithfully, giving her torment and satisfaction with careful attention, listening to her cries and feeling her body respond to his touch like a musician caring for a temperamental cello with sharp teeth.

He knew her fantasies intimately by now, acting them out for her daily, and was learning where to watch her closely, and where he could indulge his own desires and savor the carnal opulence of their working relationship. She rarely lashed out at him in anger any more, and today the little blue-skinned beast even deigned to submit to some gentle affection once Momir had tamed her lust with his body.

She lay half-dozing in his arms while he petted her and admired the subtle curves of her hips, until a messenger arrived, struggling under the weight of the bag it carried. Rabbit shook off Momir's hands and reached eagerly for the pouch, dumping out the contents and poring over the contents. A scrap of sackcloth, a boot lace, a tightly folded parchment with handwriting on it, and a severed ear. Four victims today.

She would likely be out all night, tracking each down with the help of these arcane links, and assigning each the fate that her strange, simple mind selected for them.

Shortly she was gone, and as predicted she'd stayed away til near dawn. Momir napped, and paced restlessly, waiting for her.

When she finally returned, she had a fire in her eyes that caught him off guard. She fell on her knees before him and offered her wrists to him to be chained. He bound her tightly, and took his time exploring and entering her, mocking her hunger and teasing out whines and mewls of desperation. Her hunger was unreal that night, and he found himself curious what had filled her working hours that had her so worked up, even as he worked hard to match the depth of her need.

It had gotten all too easy to forget about anything but Rabbit when she wanted him, once he had gotten over his paralyzing fear of her wrath, and his vanishing sense of time had betrayed him today. By the time he remembered his appointment and regretfully hastened an end to their savage coupling, he was late already.

As he dressed himself in haste, Rabbit fixed him with a sleepy and petulant stare. "Where are you going? Stay here until I fall asleep!"

Momir paused for a moment, looking at her, then fished in a pocket and pulled out the note he'd been given. He showed her the seal on it, knowing she couldn't read its contents. "The Master, he summon. I come back soon," he replied in the widows' tongue.

Rabbit glared at the note suspiciously, then turned her face into the fur she lay on. Her muffled reply was unhappy. "Don't make the Master wait. But come back soon, I won't sleep until you are back. Don't make me come looking, or it will be very bad."

As he vaulted as quickly as he could up the three flights of stairs to the level of the throne room, he cursed in his head, blaming Rabbit's insatiable lust, blaming his captivity for dulling his wits, cursing himself for not being more careful, all to quiet his lurching fear. The premier scared him, and the idea of his displeasure at being kept waiting was gnawing at Momir's belly.

He dared not use the portals that most of the residents of the palace used frequently, he found them disorienting and easy to get lost in, and he didn't want to gamble on being even later.

By the time he reached Kesset's antechamber, he was panting heavily and sweating, already taxed by his romp with Rabbit. A dozen petitioners and advisers occupied the large room, waiting in various states of nervousness or relaxation according to their business.

Momir hastened to the front of the room, and cautiously approached a short, graceful man with the fine features of a human that claimed mixed elvish heritage, and the unflappable air of a seneschal.

The man looked up at his approach, and consulted a tablet in his hand. "Mister Oridune? You're late. You smell like a stables, please go wash. I will inform the emperor that you've arrived."

The man nodded at an attendant standing against the wall, who turned and operated some hidden mechanism in the stone, then pushed a small section of stone panel inward on silent hinges, and beckoned Momir to enter the within.

Momir looked reluctant, and the half-elf rolled his eyes ever so slightly. "Better that you are very late, than stinky and merely late. Go, and return quickly." The man turned away to speak to a petitioner, and Momir was left with no choice but to comply.

Stepping through the secret doorway, he found himself in a short hallway with arches on either side. The attendant ushered him through the first on the left, and he found himself in a pleasant but utilitarian washroom.

One end of the room stood bare, with a water spout stylized as a lions head fixed in the wall, a grate in the gently sloping floor, and a black chain handy for pulling hanging from the fixture. The other end held a low vanity with a wide and expensive-looking glass mirror, and a collection of implements for personal grooming.

He washed quickly, and was startled and a bit embarrassed when the attendant, a well-kept young man in his adolescence appeared to offer him a towel as he stopped the water and stepped towards the vanity.

The young man said nothing and looked nowhere, the very image of a well-trained manservant, and when Momir was dry he produced a soft cotton robe and woven reed sandals, and gestured to the exit. "If you please, sir. His lordship will receive you in your robe, it is not uncommon for his working guests."

Momir put together the stable reference of earlier, what he must smell like, and the polite reference to "working guests", and blushed a deep crimson of shame. He said nothing however, only followed the young servant's lead back into the waiting room.

The seneschal glanced at him and nodded to the door guard, who immediately turned and swung open the heavy, silver-bound portal to the throne room. With a hard swallow, Momir stepped inside.

The door closed behind him with barely a sound, and across the room a man he did not recognize sat on the throne. At his side stood a tall, powerful creature with yellow fur spotted in black and a woman's curves in its profile, dressed meagerly in black cloth and smoked-steel plates that surely served more for show than for armor.

The man on the throne spoke to her in soft tones, even as she turned a crested canine head to see who entered. The man said one final thing, and gestured minutely, and the brutal-looking gnoll nodded curtly and stepped away, slipping behind a tapestry hanging nearby and vanishing from sight.

The man remaining looked to Momir and sat up a bit, beckoning him closer with a slice of fruit he picked from a silver service on a stand close at hand. "So, Momir Oridune, you are still alive I see. I was beginning to wonder. I am glad." He smiled beautifully.

Where the premier that Momir recalled had a refined elegance about him, masculine but aristocratic and delicate, with lily-white skin covered in symbols that looked as if they were carved into him with a sharpened nail.

This man was tall, with broad shoulders and a breathless wildness about him, as if he were ready at any moment to leap to his feet with a scimitar and single-handedly fight off a dozen assassins, laughing the whole time. He had a broad, easy smile, bronze skin, black hair that cascaded loosely over his shoulders, and piercing blue eyes so vivid and bright that Momir suspected they would actually cast light in a dark room.

The man laughed after a moment's awkward silence. "You don't recognize me, and you don't know why. Rest assured, we have met before. I am the Premier of Zayir, the great wizard himself, he who shapes flesh like clay and wears faces like other men wear shoes."

Momir nodded uncertainly and tugged on the unfamiliar robe in which he was wrapped. "My most sincere apologies for my lateness... my lord. I was indisposed and couldn't get away."

The self-named Premier of Zayir waved a large hand in dismissal. "It amounted to little. I had time to enjoy my breakfast, and address some matters of house that came up... off schedule."

He put his slice of fruit between his teeth and chewed, taking time to savor the morsel before continuing. "Tell me about Rabbit and yourself. Are you two getting along? I see you are looking healthier than ever, so I suppose you must be doing well."

Momir nodded his head. "Well enough, lord. I manage to keep her happy." He reddened again slightly at remembering the implications made by the house staff in the antechamber.

"As you said she would, she doesn't forget to punish me if I step wrong. But it's... it's not a hard life. I'm still adjusting, but there are... Well. There are pleasures that I suppose some men would kill for." He cleared his throat nervously, and fell quiet.

Laughter filled the hall, hearty and booming. "Pleasures. Yes. Not a hard life. You are more fortunate even than you know. Surely you must think Rabbit simple-minded and easy to please. Feed her fresh meat and she purrs, hit her with a stick and she moans.

"Other men have tried the wrong stick, and ended up as meat, but you're still swinging. I think she likes you more than she realizes." The bronze man crossed his wrists behind his head and looked up at the ceiling. "What of the other girls? Has Nessus nipped off any of your toes?"

The standing man shifted his feet and responded cautiously, considering his words as he spoke them. "Nessus mocks me, and mocks Rabbit. Loudly. So does Ahlissa, though mostly she ignores us. Oerid is... jealous, maybe. Or lonely. She creeps in some times when we're, ah, together, and watches. Some times she pleasures herself. Rabbit doesn't seem to care.

"Joon never speaks, but she some times follows me when I leave the den. It makes me nervous." He paused for a long moment, wracking his brain for the last name. "Sparrow. I've hardly ever seen Sparrow. Rabbit never talks to her, and she doesn't seem to notice that I exist. She's out all night long most nights."

Kesset nodded slowly. "Ahlissa and Sparrow have reverted to savage beasts, I think. I'm not surprised about Sparrow, even in the early years she was hard to train. Well, rabid dogs are still useful animals."

The emperor picked another slice of fruit from his breakfast tray, some manner of yellow melon by its appearance, and ate it thoughtfully. Suddenly, he stirred and surged forward, heaving out of his basket-like throne and rising to his feet. He extended his hand to the smaller man and waited expectantly.

Momir approached, and reached out to take the offered hand. On doing so, Kesset pulled him close, and looked intently into his face. "I have a question to pose to you, Momir Oridune. Consider carefully, and know that your fate hangs in the balance."

"I would take you for my own, if you will agree to it. I have just lost a slave with a sharp mind and a tough spine, and I need a man to replace him. It could be you. I alone can take you away from Rabbit.

"I will ask a great deal more of you than she does, but you will find that your freedom and your means grow as well. You will labor to earn my favor, but if you succeed you will prosper. So tell me: are you pleased with your not-so-hard life, or would reach for more?"

Momir looked back into the blazing green eyes of the monarch before him. Butterflies were in his gut, but his fear did not reach his face. Somewhere, a voice in him said 'This is business. You know what to do. No weakness.' Thoughts whirled in his mind for a moment, then he spoke. "And what if I fail you? What is my fate then?"

The premier smiled as he watched the mind of this shrewd young trader work. "It won't be any worse than your fate should you fail your current master, that I promise you." He laughed again and straightened, releasing his hold on the smaller man. "I can see you are too wise to answer recklessly. Come, walk with me, and I will answer your questions."

The lord of Zayir turned away and strode towards the hidden exit where the black-clad gnoll enforcer had departed minutes earlier, and Momir hurried to keep up with his long-legged stride. He threw aside the tapestry to reveal a small recess with one of the ubiquitous shimmering portals that connected remote parts of the palace.

He spoke a resonant word of power that slid into Momir's ear and out the other side like an oiled serpent, impossible to apprehend but leaving an unmistakable mark in its passage. A subtle ripple snapped through the portal, and no sooner had it passed than he plunged through.

Momir leapt to follow him, shoving aside distraction and finding his next question. "Lord, you say I would be your slave. How can a slave prosper?"

Kesset turned his head slightly to be sure he was following, then marched forth down the nondescript hallway. "There are men who prosper in Zayir besides myself, surely you've seen this. There are magistrates and bankers, and merchants as you used to be, and these men have wealth and power as they do anywhere. But they are all slaves.

"They call this the Slave City for a reason, though I don't care for the title. Every citizen is owned by someone higher than themselves, and that person in turn owned by another, on and on until you reach myself. The land, the buildings, the wealth, and the people--I own everything in Zayir.

"Slavery is a simple law, and this hierarchy is elegant. I like elegant things. The products of each man's labor belong to his master, and the master prospers from this labor. A foolish master is cruel, and takes all from his slave, and soon his slave dies or rebels and his profits are lost.

"The saying goes, 'A wise master takes two portions from his slave, and leaves the third to him that produced it. Of these two, he takes one for himself and gives one to his own master. He also looks over those under them and protects their well-being, as through their success, his own wealth increases.' It's sound advice."

"There are rag-pickers in the streets who trace their line of servitude through a hundred or more masters before they reach me. They are the bottom-most in a massive hierarchy of business and service, and I don't interfere here, for the structure is too complex and delicate to abide meddling even from the most brilliant men.

"You however are but two steps from me, the slave of my slave. Your lot is of no consequence to anyone but Rabbit. I can meddle here with freedom. And in this case, it suits me to do so.

"You are her property, and what is hers can become mine. Likewise, what's mine can be sold. What I propose is to sell her to you. The laws involved are complicated, but a man cannot own his own master, or his master's master, so your ownership defaults to me, as it would in the event of her death.

"She will complain and sulk, no doubt, but the truth is she wants a master who attends to her, and I am not such a one as I used to be. She would adjust, and I think you have the power to satisfy her. I suspect that the only thing that keeps her from seeing you how she used to see me is that you have no real power over her."

"So now that you understand what slavery means in my kingdom, you may see that a slave can prosper. My power is great and my needs few, and my slaves among all others in Zayir enjoy privilege and authority, as it is through them that my business is done and my laws are enforced.

"Rabbit and her sisters are an exception, they lack the wit and character to serve me well. It is high time they had a handler who can direct them for me. They should be a pack of hunting dogs who ride with a keeper, not idle mongrels who live in a pit and feed on what's thrown to them.

"So this is what I am offering you, Momir. Say yes, and I will give you a pack. Rabbit, Oerid, and Nessus. Three hounds. Joon may join them, if I find her to be fit for it. We will first have to determine what still motivates her.

"It will be your responsibility to re-train them, and drive them where I command and for the ends I require. Fail me, and I will sell you as I do Rabbit, though likely not into such an ideal position. If your beasts don't turn on you first, that is."

Momir mulled over his words as he followed Kesset around a corner. They had passed through an arch into a wing of the palace with corridors wide enough to serve as arcades, lined with columns and artfully draped fabrics in an array of greens, yellows, and other summer colors.

Intricate baubles of blown glass in indescribable abstract shapes hung from the ceiling, glowing with a deep orange light that illuminated the gallery and lent a smoky, intimate atmosphere to everything. "So many, lord? I wonder if such a thing can be done. As you warned me, Rabbit is jealous."

Low cushioned seats were clustered in twos and fours discreetly to the sides between pillars, alternating with beautiful hardwood doors of dark oak and mahogany. As they spoke they passed a tall, lantern-jawed man with red eyes and skin as black as coal lounging near a door which stood ajar. He watched Momir with curiosity as they passed.

 

"I did not say it would be easy, only that it would be rewarding. The widows have shared a master before, I think they could be convinced to do so again. If you aren't the man who can do it, best you say no. I will send you back to Rabbit and bear you no ill will. Though I admit I will be disappointed at the opportunity lost."

Momir craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse into the room beyond the open door, but all he saw was a standing brazier blazing within before the black-skinned man's watchful gaze unnerved him and he looked away.

He startled briefly to see the yellow-furred woman from the throne room walking toward them. She made a brief, deferential nod to the Lord of the palace, but made no acknowledgment of Momir's presence. As she passed, he saw that her fur and clothing was spattered with some dark fluid, unidentifiable in the low light. A moment later, a trace scent of fresh blood reached his nose.

He tried to push it out of his mind, to focus on the matter at hand. "What about Ahlissa and Sparrow?"

Kesset shook his head slightly, but did not turn. "I don't think they are fit for this. It would be an unnecessary risk to your life. I won't do your work for you, but I do want you to succeed.

"The pit needs a few mongrels in it still, else where will we throw the trash? We'll give them each a larger share of the city's criminal elements to handle, they'll be happier for it. Najeer can deal with the cases that require discretion and judgment."

Momir looked at the back of Kesset's head. Even as the probable answer to his question formed in his mind, he asked "Najeer, lord?" Lord Kesset only pointed back over his shoulder, indicating the gnoll who had just passed. "She keeps order among the elite. Best that you never need meet her." Momir only nodded.

Ahead a door opened, spilling refracted daylight into the gallery and banishing some of the gloom. Momentarily two liveried men emerged, carrying something heavy between them, and shuffled away down the hall. The lord of Zayir reached the open door and stopped in the light, turning to face the one who followed him.

Momir approached and peered inside to find stately quarters lit by morning sun streaming in through a generous window. A large bed with imposing posts featured centrally to the left, accompanied by a dressing screen, wardrobe, a carved wood chair, and a large tub recessed into the floor.

To the right, a table, a long work desk, a large map on a scroll stand, and a personal library, as well as a full-length mirror and two more chairs. Personal effects were scattered about carelessly, as if someone had been searching for something and had suddenly left in a hurry.

Near the bathing tub, a young woman in servants' clothing scrubbed the floor with a brush and bucket. The water in the bucket was red. Momir's stomach tightened as he saw this, and he looked questioningly at the premier, who looked back impassively.

"As I said, I have lost a slave. I provide comfortable lodging for those who serve me, and so a room in this wing of the palace has come available for the next man to enter my service. I haven't been down to the den in a while, but if memory serves, there are no windows."

At the sound of his voice, the chamber maid redoubled her efforts, frantically cleaning the stone at the tub's rim. No sooner had the emperor stopped talking than she stood, ducked her head, and scurried out of the room with a hastily murmured "M'lords..."

Kesset stepped aside for the maid to pass, then slowly spread his hands, waiting. "You have heard my offer. Now it is time for you to answer."

Momir stood still for a moment, then finally wrenched his eyes from the finery of the living space, and the ominous dark stain near the tub. A voice in his mind whispered 'That stain will be you some day,' but he pushed it aside. It was time to weigh the bargain and make the deal. He didn't think long. "My lord Kesset, it would be an honor to serve you directly. I am eager to accept your offer."

The archmage smiled. "I knew you would. Only a fool would say no, and didn't mark you for a fool."

The emperor stepped into the room and approached the desk. He fished among the clutter and produced a clean square of note paper and a fountain pen. "A proper master should have a mark to show what's his. Come draw me one, and I shall file it in the city's archives."

Momir wasted no time on deliberation, signing a flourishing "M. O." with a sheaf of wheat motif, as he would on his contract letterhead when he still had contracts to sign. He handed the paper to his new lord, who blew softly on it while the ink dried.

Once done, he pressed the symbol between his palms and murmured a brief incantation. The paper crackled and turned to ash, burned by some invisible flame, and he nodded.

He turned to Momir once more, and nodded at the desk. "I grant you rights of home and property in this chamber. These belongings are yours now. I believe there are some coins on that desk, find something with which to make a trade. It needn't be much."

Momir scrabbled in the mess of empty cups and half-finished woodcarving, coming up with a fat silver piece, shiny except for a stain of dried coffee. He turned back triumphantly. Kesset held out his right hand, palm down. "Your left hand. Pay attention and follow as I lead."

Momir extended his left hand, palm up, and pressed it against the wizard's right. At his gesture, he presented his right hand in a mirrored gesture, with the silver piece pinned with his thumb, and Kesset placed his left hand below to accept the coin and began a formal recital. "I offer the life of my slaves, Rabbit, Nessus, and Oerid. I take your coin in trade."

He nodded at the merchant, who guessed his intention and replied, "I offer this coin. I take the live of your slaves, Rabbit, Nessus, and Oerid, in trade."

Kesset responded, "What you offer, I take. What I offer is yours. The deal is made, the law is observed."

"What you offer, I take. What I had is yours. The deal is made, the law is observed."

Kesset nodded, and pocketed the stained coin. "There are spells in the air and the soil in Zayir, a geas that assures the rule of my laws. My magic knows you as Rabbit's master now. My mark is on her, at the base of her neck. I assume you've seen it? When you see her next, you will find your mark there instead."

Momir nodded his understanding, and opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted as his new master's hands rose to clasp his head. Kesset leaned near, looking smug. "As for you. Rabbit and her sisters don't mark their property, they don't understand the purpose of it. But I do. Hold still."

Without waiting for a response he turned his new slave's head aside and pressed near, running his tongue brazenly up the smaller man's cheek. A sudden warmth blossomed over Momir's cheekbone, rising quickly into a sharp, searing pain, then subsiding just as quickly. He cried out in surprise and hurt, but the sensation faded to a burning sting in moments.

He stepped back, surprised, and looked askance at Lord Kesset. His master just smiled at him as he straightened. "You are mine now, it's clear for all to see." Momir stepped into the room and looked across to the wall mirror.

His reflection looked back at him, and he could see the emperor's block-letter 'K' blazoned bold over his cheekbone, scroll work and all, an inch high. He swallowed, in that moment the knowledge that there was no going back settled in his heart, and it felt heavy.

"I think I will call you 'houndmaster' now. A merchant you certainly are not, though you clearly still think like one. I will have your hounds sent to you, houndmaster. You may decide if they will stay with you here, or if you will use the den as your kennel. In the meanwhile, be free to call a house servant or two to help you tidy up in here. It's quite a mess."

Kesset turned on his heel and departed suddenly, leaving the newly christened houndmaster grappling with his new circumstances. He called over his shoulder as he walked away, "I must return to more pressing affairs now, houndmaster Momir. We will talk in a few days time. I have high hopes for you! Don't let your bitches gnaw your bones before then, or I will be most disappointed."

The younger man stood in the doorway dumbly and watched the emperor go. A few moments passed, and he returned to himself and turned to confront his new quarters. He looked over the distributed mess that occupied every flat surface and let out a sigh, before allowing old habits to lead him to the desk.

He surveyed the mess, found no immediate pattern to the clutter there, and set about collecting all the various documents and memos he could find. Perhaps he could learn something valuable about his predecessor while he cleaned.

He poured himself into tracing the shape of his new life with a focus driven by the sensation that he balanced on a knife's edge, with power and prosperity on one side, and a painful and grisly end on the other. Time passed unmarked for what might have been an hour before he was interrupted.

He was seated, a disorderly sheaf of paper held in each hand, staring blankly at what looked like a recipe written in a script that might have been Dwarvish, when he heard a petulant sniff at the open chamber door, followed by the familiar voice of Rabbit, demanding to know what was happening.

Momir squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and gathered his wits. Of course nobody would have explained what was happening to her. It was obviously his problem now, to handle her if she decided to pitch a fuss. He spoke as he stood, dropping the paper on the no-less-cluttered work surface. "The Master, he change the rules of us, little Rabbit," he told her, in his still-awkward Bariaur, turning to face her.

Rabbit stood in the doorway, Nessus and Oerid to her left, all three looking sleepy and put out, all three as naked as usual. Rabbit stared at him with mild resentment at first, but suddenly she focused on his cheek, and her eyes flared with suspicion.

She advanced on him, staring at the black mark on his face, and halfway across the room she let out a snarl and broke into a charge. With a twitch of her calves she leapt into the air and pounced on him, digging her claws into his upper arms.

The time he'd spent with Rabbit had taught him better instincts than he had when they'd first met. Vicious though she could be, he knew she couldn't maim him quickly. She relied on fear to make up for size, and he no longer feared her as he had.

He ignored her tearing nails, leaning into her assault and wrapping his fingers around her throat. He had suspected it might come to this when she found out, and he knew her well enough to understand she wouldn't surrender her authority unless he could prove he could master her.

She snarled fearsomely and raked at his arms and torso. Momir's blood spattered the rug beneath his feet and he cried out in pain, even as he shook her until her teeth rattled.

Rabbit didn't surrender easily, she slashed and clawed even as her head snapped back and forth so roughly her vision was nothing but a blur. In a panic, Momir rushed across the room, carrying the blue-skinned devil in his grip, and slammed her hard against the stone wall. Her head struck hard enough to stun her, and he quickly grabbed her weakly flailing limbs and pinned her to the floor.

Hissing through his teeth in pain, his face a mask of anger and intent, he snapped his head up to monitor Rabbit's sisters. They merely looked back at him cautiously, apparently uncertain what to do.

Momir turned his cheek towards her. "Look. See. I serve the Master now. I am not for Rabbit to keep any longer." Another moment's silence. Rabbit struggled under him, and he shifted more weight on top of her. He glanced down and looked at the back of her neck.

As Kesset had promised, he found his initials and wheat sheaf there, in fine, crisp black lines on her skin, clearer than any tattoo could be.

He beckoned to Nessus and Oerid. "Come. See this thing." Slowly, the other two approached, and looked where he gestured. "Tell her," Momir ordered.

Nessus spoke first, explaining boldly to the pinned widow, "Little sister, the Master's mark is gone from your neck. Another sign is there now. I don't recognize it, but perhaps it is a sign of his displeasure."

Momir felt the fight leave her, and he carefully clutched her wrists tight in one hand and pulled her to her feet. He lead her back to the table, and with his other hand he drew again the sign he'd made for Lord Kesset.

Blood dripped from his elbow as he drew. He held it up for all three to see, and looked at the sisters expectantly. This time, it was Oerid who spoke, trepidation visible on her face. "It is the same mark. It is the same hand, Rabbit. Your food is food no longer."

Momir stifled a sigh of relief, nodded, and gestured vaguely at Nessus and Oerid. "You each, look. See the other." The two exchanged alarmed glances. Oerid was first to act, grabbing Nessus' face and shoulder, pulling her awkwardly sideways and down to inspect the back of her neck.

Nessus struggled and escaped Oerid's grip; her sister's stunned look answered her question before she asked it. The exchange was repeated in the other direction, and Momir gave the three widows a moment to digest the knowledge that all three bore his mark, before he asked quietly, "Do you understand?"

Oerid met his gaze with a surprised expression, and nodded slowly. Nessus looked shocked. He looked down at Rabbit, and her eyes were closed, her expression part anger and part grief. Momir summoned up the instincts she'd taught him in their fantasy play, and asked himself what this swaggering, domineering persona would do.

After a moment he wrapped his other arm around Rabbit and pulled her roughly to his chest. He pressed his jaw to her cheek, and murmured in her ear, "You played with me like slave to master. You liked this. Now it is play no more, you belong to me."

She emitted a keening whine, holding her head stiffly away from his shoulder, until he grew annoyed and cupped the back of her head, pulling her face to his chest. Rabbit struggled, and cried out in pain, "The Master has thrown us away! What is left for his loyal servants now?"

Momir squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then snapped them back open when he remembered Nessus and Oerid watching him. To his surprise he found a knot in his throat, an echo of Rabbit's angst born simply out of some measure of empathy that had grown in him, undiscovered until now.

He swallowed reflexively, trying to choke it down, even as he pushed her back and slapped her hard across the face.

She gasped and looked at him with a spark of fear in her eyes that he'd not seen before. He looked into her eyes and ran his thumb softly across her lips, tugged lightly at the corner of her mouth. "There is no master but me, little one. I won't leave. Premier Kesset named me to hold you close, keep you loyal. The emperor knows, I will take care of you and never leave you behind. He knows."

Momir cast a significant look at the taller sisters, telling them with his expression that this applied to them as well. They returned his gaze, faces subdued, and said nothing. He looked back down at Rabbit as her tension slackened minutely with each heartbeat.

He tipped her chin up towards him, and murmured "You understand now. Tell me." After a moment she gave a faint nod. He leaned closer, moving in to kiss her, and was surprised when she suddenly rose to meet him with a rough kiss of her own.

Their lips locked for only a moment before she sighed and relaxed against him. The trouble in her face remained, but it was tempered with something akin to relief now.

He held her for a moment, then looked up at Nessus and Oerid and ordered with a firm voice, "Come, hold her arms."

Rabbit looked surprised and hurt as her sisters took her wrists from Momir and restrained her. He touched her cheek and explained, "The slave hurts the master, so she must hurt also." He directed her captors with gestures, and they dragged her backwards towards the foot of the bed, while she grew tense and whined "I didn't know...!"

Momir only shook his head as if to say it didn't matter, and picked up a discarded pair of pants that lay on the floor near his feet, spattered now with his blood. He eyed them critically, then with his teeth and fingers tore them into strips.

He motioned for the other two women to back Rabbit against the nearest bedpost, and with their help, bound her ankles and wrists together around the post, leaving her on her knees. He wrapped a smaller scrap around her throat, binding her neck to the post as well. She was a clever and flexible creature, and he didn't want her wriggling free while his back was turned.

After inspecting the ties carefully, he turned away to look at Nessus and Oerid. Nessus had sidled sideways towards a chair, while Oerid stood nearby with excitement in her eyes, looking at Rabbit. He extended a hand to each, and beckoned for them to come close.

The two approached, Oerid looking distracted, Nessus cagey. He put a hand to their cheeks fondly, then smacked Oerid softly to get her attention. "Each, you have seen how I master Rabbit. I have you now, also. No more sleeping alone and no place to belong. You belong with me, and I will give happiness as I give to her." Nessus eyed him, aloof but wary. Oerid looked down at his feet, a smile on her face.

"You understand. Show me now." He dropped his hand to Nessus' throat, grabbing her neck firmly and holding her, while he curled his arm around Oerid's shoulders and pulled her close.

He looked at her intently, and her face said she had no thought to argue with him. With his heart thumping nervously in his throat, he mashed his lips to hers. She met him eagerly, and he felt her tail brush intimately against his leg. Behind him, Rabbit whined unhappily.

The embrace went on for seconds, her tongue tickling his playfully. At length he broke away and took a breath, and Oerid smiled demurely at him. She murmured, "I understand, master." He nodded, then kissed her again, briefly, thrilled and suddenly prideful at her easy acquiescence.

Regretfully, he pushed her back and looked to Nessus, who met his eyes with pridefulness of her own mixed with scorn. Her face spoke of challenge, and he sensed that she was not impressed by Oerid's quick surrender. She would take time, Momir thought.

She would give him a chance to convince her, else she would have attacked him or left already, but he couldn't afford to fumble or he would lose her respect, maybe permanently.

He released Oerid and turned to face Nessus, drawing her to him by his hold on her throat. He put his other arm around her and looked intently into her eyes. She was the tallest of the six sisters, her eyes level with his mouth, and he liked the way she felt in his arms.

She waited, smug, for him to make a move. Momir's mind raced, reaching for some inspiration about how best to establish his dominance, feeling like she could read his thoughts in his eyes. He leaned closer, one hand sliding up her back to tangle in her hair and grab tight.

A knowing smirk spread across her face as he pulled her head back and leaned over her, then cracked when he said in a crisp tone, "Go, find a healer. Your master bleeds. Such mess."

Momir pushed Nessus firmly back, and turned toward Rabbit without waiting for confirmation. She looked confused at first, then her face darkened. She vacillated for a moment, then turned with a soft snort and walked out. Momir watched her go from the corner of his eye, waiting til the last moment to snap, "Shut door."

Nessus' stride hesitated for a moment, then she grabbed the heavy chamber door and pulled it shut behind her, somewhat harder than necessary. Momir stifled a tense sigh.

 

Her disdainful confidence had rattled him, and the only play he'd seen was to try to get under her skin. He optimistically called it a draw, but angering her too much seemed at least as dangerous as failing to secure her loyalty.

He looked back at Rabbit, who only looked back at him, waiting for him to do say or do something to her. Of the three women, she was the one he understood. Any attention would be a reward, and he had a point to make to her and the others, so he pointedly ignored her and looked back to Oerid.

She was watching him as well, a small smile of amusement on her face while she licked a smear of his blood from her arm with a long tongue. He reached out to her with both arms and draped them loosely around her neck, and stepped closer so he could look down on her.

"Nessus wants to fight, I think. She will learn. I won't fight a pet. She will see." Oerid nodded, her smile unchanged, then leaned in and licked delicately at a shallow gash at the base of Momir's throat.

Instinctively he grabbed her hair and jerked her head back, bitten one too many times by Rabbit. She looked surprised, and after a moment he relaxed. "Oerid is loyal, hmm? Doesn't want to be tied like Rabbit. No biting." She gave a tender smile and closed her eyes in ascent, and Momir released her head.

He took a breath and stepped towards the bed, drawing her with him with one arm, tugging the rumpled blanket into a semblance of order with the other, then lay on the covers and beckoned Oerid to lay with him. "Come, lie down, clean this blood."

She followed him and draped her slender blue body atop his. She propped herself on one elbow, and at his invitation extended her tongue and lapped tenderly at the cuts and lacerations Rabbit had clawed in his flesh.

Momir twitched as her licking stung his wounds, but found himself irresistibly attracted to her careful movements and the simple fact of her nearness. He had seen her naked body before, as he'd seen all the widows naked.

Her particularly, he'd watched as she her stroked her fingers across her pussy, staring back at him while he fucked Rabbit in every way he could think of. But he never thought to hold her like she was his own until today.

Though clearly of the same stock as his regular lover, she had a slender elegance about her body and her movements that was wholly novel. His hands found their way to her bare sides without thinking, and he slowly stroked her ribs and flanks as she lapped the blood from his shoulders.

She let out the faintest sigh of satisfaction, and spread her thighs slowly to plant her knees on the bed and steady herself. Momir felt her shift and slid his right hand down her side, taking his time in reaching for her more tender regions, savoring the novelty of the moment.

His curiosity got the better of him finally, and he addressed her again. "Gentle pet, so quick to obey. Not want to fight, like Nessus?"

Oerid selected an intact section of his skin, and nuzzled it in reply. "I know how you take Rabbit's body and make her scream and sigh and love...

"I want to love my master like that, so wild I have to scream out loud. I want Rabbit and Nessus and everybody to watch. I want my master to know I'm loyal and good, I'll do as I'm told. It would be silly to fight."

Momir nodded slowly at her words. He lost the end of her sentence, distracted by the lurid images she conjured in his mind and the feeling of her warm flesh under his hands, but he followed enough to catch her subtext. She wanted to make her sisters jealous. She wanted to be his favorite to spite them.

He mentally kicked himself for assuming her accommodating affection was innocent. A loud and insistent whine issued from Rabbit, strangled as she strained against her bonds to keep an eye on the two of them. Her frustration reminded him that he could use Oerid's sly manipulation to his own ends, if he were careful.

These observations made, his strategic instincts made a halfhearted review of his circumstances and, finding nothing of immediate concern, ceded the foreground to his quietly growling desire. His exploring right hand mapped the contours of her toned behind.

His fingertips teased a gasp from her lips as they traced a circle around the base of her tail, then followed the line where her cheeks pressed together, toward the apex of her thighs.

He stopped just short of the silky warmth of her labia, still relishing the mystery of this new body, subliminally aware both that he might have business to attend to soon, and that she had offered him his fill of the secrets of her body.

He could afford to draw it out, and so he fluttered his fingertips across the inside of her thighs and appreciated the warmth of her body against his, the twitching of the little muscles in her thighs and lower back, even the sting of her pointed tongue as it probed his wounds.

At the foot of the bed, Rabbit struggled in frustration and sunk into miserable whimpering. "Master..." she called, "Rabbit is sorry, master!" Oerid said nothing, but her breath caught in her throat, and she uttered the occasional stifled groan.

Within minutes, Momir could feel a warm wetness seeping through the inner thighs of his pants as his new pet's juices soaked the cloth. It had been far too long for her liking since someone had touched her like this, and the thought of Rabbit whining and straining frantically to watch her cherished master's fingers stroke the thighs of her sister only turned her on more.

The novel feeling of her body pressed to his and her dripping desire aroused Momir in turn, and soon a hot bulge strained against his pants, eager to dig into Oerid's ready flesh.

Minutes passed this way, intimate and tempting but without urgency. Oerid grew restless from his teasing touch and stirred her body against his meaningfully, and Momir ran his fingertips tenderly across her dripping nether, earning slippery fingers and a short gasp from her in return. Her thighs flexed and her hips pressed back insistently against his hand.

He touched her again, parting her outer lips but going no deeper. She bit her lower lip and emitted a tense squeak of excitement, and just at that moment a sudden thump echoed from the chamber door, followed by a louder blow, and then an insistent rattling at the latch.

Momir flinched at the sound, instinctively pushing his playmate aside and sitting up, ready for trouble. Oerid cried out in dismay. The door flew open, and Nessus stalked in, dragging a fearful middle aged man in a servant's uniform by the collar. She pulled the man upright and brandished her catch at Momir. "This one can help."

Momir looked at the servant, who looked back at Momir and his injuries. He asked the older man in the common tongue, "My servant says you are a healer. Can you tend my wounds?" The other man shook his head and swallowed. "No, sir, but I have this. Take it, it will help." He fumbled in a pocket, and produced a small crystal bottle with a lemon-yellow fluid inside.

Momir reached out to take it, and the man approached to place it in his hand, then backed up quickly. The man nodded his head in assurance. "It's a magic draught, sir. It will close your wounds. The steward of the wing can provide you a stock, so you needn't be troubled to send a servant should you need one again."

Momir eyed it curiously, then pulled the small stopper and poured the contents into his mouth. It tasted odd, something like celery and wood smoke, and within moments the pain in his chest and shoulders began to lessen. He looked down at himself to see his skin knitting, the shallower wounds sealing over without a trace.

He nodded, pleased and grateful for the remedy. The servant shifted uneasily. "Sir? Unless there's something else?" Momir looked up, surprised to realize the man was waiting for his permission to depart. "Ah, yes, of course. Thank you." The man nodded quickly, and made for the door with no further delay, pulling it gently closed behind him.

Momir looked at Nessus, who looked back and scoffed about nothing in particular. He fished for something to say to her, but was distracted by Oerid's hand on his twitching member, still straining against his pants, reminding him of what they had been about before the interruption. He turned to her and found her eyes inches from his, smoldering with desire and offended pride.

He lay back and reached out to her with one hand, loosing his belt clasp with the other. She was atop him in an instant, straddling his thighs and leaning over him, one hand on his shoulder to support herself, grabbing his hand with the other and pacing it insistently on her crotch, then reaching to deal with the obstacle of his clothing herself.

He obliged, stroking her with his fingers, giving her the stimulation she demanded without spoiling the thrill of the first penetrating thrust into her flesh. She tore open his pants and smiled when his cock sprang loose, stiff and eager to meet her needs. She ground her hips against his fingers as her hand closed around his monstrous shaft and stroked it with enthusiasm.

His fingers slid away from her soaking lips, sliding around to grab her hip and pulling her towards him. Oerid got the message clearly and shifted forward, her knees squeezing his ribs as she aligned the apex of her thighs with his crotch. Her mouth fell open and the tip of her tongue lolled out as she panted in anticipation, and lined up his head with her pussy.

He felt her wet flesh part easily around his tip, his hips rose of their own accord, rising to meet her as his cock plunged into her body. Her eyelids fluttered shut and she uttered a drawn-out moan as he spread her open.

Rabbit shook the bedpost angrily and whined, "It's not fair! He's my master! You only want him because he's mine!"

Oerid moaned louder in response, shamelessly trying to drown out Rabbit with her pleasure. She straightened her torso and shifted slightly to open her passage to Momir.

He gripped her waist tightly and thrust his hips against her, hungry to feel her take the very last inch of him. She gasped sharply, thighs tensing, as he pushed deeper inside.

She looked down at him, and he smirked at her "It has been too long for you, Oerid? But Rabbit is so small and she takes all of this. You can too, I think."

He gripped her tight and thrust his hips towards her in a slow, insistent movement. She gasped and squeezed her eyes closed, bending forward at the waist and gripping his shoulders tightly with her hands.

His cock nuzzled against her cervix, insistent that she would accept all of him inside her, until with a sudden slipping sensation he found a deeper fold of her cunt and buried himself in her to the very hilt. Momir gasped in pleasure as her silky lips stretched around the base of his shaft.

Oerid groaned in pain and excitement, thrilled at her new master's forcefulness, at being pushed to her limits and beyond. She ground her hips against his in a circular motion, her discomfort overwhelmed by tense excitement at being stuffed to bursting with his penis.

Old instincts grown faint with starvation flared back to life. Her mouth hung slack as lurid memories of rough sex and the Premier's cool dominance replayed through her mind.

He gazed up at her face, beguiled by his elegant lover's movements and by her wanton expression, and was startled to recognize a familiar nervous hunger in her eyes, the same look Rabbit held when she wanted him to make a plaything of her.

Cast from the same mold, indeed. The thought flickered through his mind that that face would look strangely out of place on Nessus, moody and aggressive as she usually was. He wondered if she was different than her sisters.

All this passed in an eye-blink. He knew better by now than to disappoint a lusty Widow. Her expression said that she wanted to be treated roughly and without hesitation.

He stifled his rumination and mustered his animal urges, and his animal urges spoke sternly to him that he needed to be crouched over Oerid's slight body, driving his shaft into her hot, tender insides and licking at her curves like a predator taking down a herd animal. She didn't even flinch as he surged upright and tossed her down on her back.

Her thighs opened like butterfly wings as he leaned over her. She cried out in elation as he plunged his cock back into her, heedlessly fulfilling his desire for her body. She reached low with one arm to grab a handful of his ass.

Her sharp claws drew little beads of blood from Momir's hide. With the other she reached behind her head and gripped the blankets, and she closed her eyes as her master drove his shaft into her over and again, crying out in time to his movements.

Nessus crept slowly up to the bedside, watching Momir and Oerid fuck with something closer to relish than scandal. Momir noticed her as she climbed into the bed, but where he had been afraid of her in other days, he was only curious now what she would do.

Let her watch, and see how her sister accepted his dominance; Oerid said she wanted this, after all. He watched Nessus' face through heavy-lidded eyes as he took his pleasure with her smaller sibling.

The taller Widow watched her newly-minted master thrust into Oerid for a while. Her hips shifted and her thighs tensed in little, involuntary movements that she didn't seem to notice, but Momir surely did.

At length she leaned over and looked down into Oerid's eyes, fixing her with an intent gaze. "Oerid, you roll right over and give up your fighting. This isn't your real master. You should be ashamed."

Oerid swallowed and let out another, choked-off moan, then released the blankets to grab the nape of Nessus' neck. "Give him your body and be his pet like Rabbit and me. He'll take care of us and care about us and make us feel so good. Let's have a master and be happy again, I'm tired of being forgotten, aren't you?"

Nessus stared into Oerid's eyes. Oerid stared back and spoke nothing. Momir stilled, and even Rabbit grew silent, sensing a tenseness in the taller sister. After several heartbeats, Nessus licked her lips nervously and raised her gaze to the master of hounds.

A shade of triumph crept into his expression as he met her gaze. He lifted a hand to to cup her cheek, but changed his mind before completing the gesture as some instinct told him that Nessus needed a different gesture, that some pride in her would reject being patronized.

He put his hand on her shoulder instead, just at the base of her neck, his touch easy but his grip firm. Her expression didn't change, still subtly hinting at a struggle between bitter cynicism and dizzy hope, and Momir knew his instincts had led him right.

He pulled her close with a gradual motion, til he could feel her breath on his face. "Pretty one, your sister knows. Be my pet, be happy here."

She hesitated and Momir straightened, lifting his other hand to disengage Oerid's grip on Nessus' neck and replace it with his own hand. He pulled the aloof widow closer and she wavered unsteadily, putting a hand to his chest and throwing a knee awkwardly over Oerid to keep her balance.

Oerid sighed petulantly at losing her lover's attention and rolled her hips in a bid to win it back. Momir smiled and began thrusting into her again with slow, exaggerated movements. With confident ease he pressed closer and kissed Nessus. His hands slid from her shoulders down her back and settled in a snug embrace just above her hips.

He held her to his torso as his stomach flexed and tensed and his hips rolled, plunging his thick, wizard-sculpted shaft into her sister's hungry lips, and her easy moans once more filled the room. Nessus was still as the first several moments passed, as if unsure how to react. Finally, her eyes shut and she cupped the back of Momir's skull and returned his kiss forcefully.

They broke away, each slightly short of breath. Nessus looked now at Momir's chest, afraid or embarrassed or simply overwhelmed. Momir pressed his lips to her forehead softly, and murmured "Welcome home, my pet."

Nessus nodded slightly, and whispered in reply "I want this. I want you, master. I don't want to be forgotten any more. If you forget me, I will die. But not before you die. This is a promise, master."

Momir gave a slight nod. Oerid gave a contented sigh at the drama. Rabbit whimpered piteously.

Some time later, a knock at the chamber door broke the languid quiet that filled the room. Momir lifted his head from the pillows he reclined against.

Nessus lay with her against him, shoulders at his chest, the back of her head resting on his collarbone, limbs akimbo. Momir lightly stroked her left breast with one hand, the other nestled intimately over her sex, barely moving. Oerid lay on her side, head between Nessus' thighs, cuddling with Momir's leg.

Neither creature responded to the noise until Momir sighed softly and sat up. Nessus grumbled at being disturbed and shot him a reproachful glare, but moved to let him up. The young man pried at Oerid's sleeping form until he could free his leg from her grip, and finally got to his feet, calling out "Coming, one moment..."

He looked around for something to put on, found a pair of pants only to realize he'd destroyed them to bind Rabbit to the bed post, finally found a dirty tunic he didn't recognize but looked about his size and pulled it on.

It smelled like a stranger, and he was vividly reminded that he was wearing a recently-dead man's clothes. He forced the thought out of his mind, a problem for ten minutes from now, and went to answer the door.

Standing on the other side was a tall, burly woman in a dark blue skirt and elegant blouse, with yellow-and-black spotted fur and a hyena's face. Momir's heart hammered at seeing her and he stumbled back, the emperor's words and the smell of fresh blood echoing in his mind. 'Best that you never need meet her.'

He raised a hand to hold her at bay, and stammered "What-- what have I done? There's a mistake!" The gnoll woman paused for a moment, nonplussed, before her lips pulled back in what seemed a snarl, but quickly showed to be humor.

She emitted a curious, swooping laugh which peaked shrilly before settling into a throaty alto and trailing off. She waved her hand casually, dismissing Momir's fear. "You've met my sister already I see.

"No fear, I'm not here to kill you. My name is Namid, I am the steward here. I heard we had a new neighbor in the wing, I came to introduce myself."

Momir cleared his throat and quickly composed himself, nodding his understanding. He took a breath to steady himself, and responded, "Ah... Namid. My apologies, it's a pleasure to meet you. I am Momir.

"Premier Kesset granted me these quarters only an hour or two ago, but he didn't... That is, I haven't any idea what to expect here. I gather I will be waiting here for his instructions, whenever they may come."

Namid nodded graciously. "He is often bored by explanations, but I can fill in some of the details. This is one of his private wings, all the residents here serve him directly, or belong to someone who does.

"We're a bit of a menagerie. Irregulars, you might say. People with unusual talents and specialties, or just unusual bodies. Some are dangerous, like my sister, but as long as you mind your business you'll be quite safe.

"There are rules we all must obey. The price for breaking the peace is usually a visit from Najeer, which you may or may not survive, but will certainly be unpleasant either way. Your chambers are off-limits to the rest of us except by invitation, and you can assume the same is true for everyone else's chambers.

"Don't involve yourself in the private affairs of your neighbors either. Some have strange habits. Many have slaves, and their business is their own. The rules are enforced, but never by you. Order is for me and my sister to preserve. Does this make sense?"

 

Momir gave a thoughtful nod in reply, and Namid nodded back and continued, "Najeer loves blood and death and her job, and that's about all. As for me, I love a life of ease and pleasure. And being appreciated.

"My job is to see to the needs of his various lieutenants--that's you. He gives me quite a lot of room to interpret how to carry out my duties, so never make the mistake of thinking I work for you. But as long as you're respectful, it's my pleasure to make sure you're comfortable here.

"I can provide you with a wide variety of conveniences and domestic services... cleaning servants, for example." She glanced meaningfully around the room.

Her gaze settled on the bed, and lingered, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "... Ah. I heard you were being called 'houndmaster', now I think I understand. I've never met these creatures, but I've heard of them."

She cleared her throat softly, and looked back at Momir, taking note finally of his state of undress. "I really encourage you to spend some time getting to know your neighbors. When the wing is happy, I'm happy. And you might make some friends. Me, for example. I can be a very valuable friend."

She turned slightly as if to leave, but her gaze drifted back towards the bed. "If you need anything, or have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask. Shall I send some servants to help you tidy up?"

Momir shook his head. "No, thank you. I'll... have my hounds help me. I owned little before, I may want to keep some of what's there. I need to take stock myself."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. My door is down the end of the wing, call any time. Just look for the key insignia."

She started to turn away, then added a final thought over her shoulder. "One more thing. I sense you're a man of discretion, but a position like the one you've just been given has a way of making smart men act stupid.

"Take this to heart: being one of the premier's lieutenants doesn't mean you are equal to the rest of them. Tread softly, and learn your place here."

Momir stared after her for a few moments, processing the sense of weight and meaning that lingered in his chest, seeming to tell him that Namid's visit had been his first glimpse of a political arena into which he had been thrust, and in which he must now fight to earn his keep.

Presently, his thoughts returned to the now, and he realized that he was standing half-naked in his doorway staring at nothing, and also that his back was turned to three widows whom he didn't yet trust.

He closed the door and turned around. Nessus and Oerid had curled up together, or more accurately Nessus seemed to have subdued her smaller sister and was holding her tightly to her chest, like a stuffed doll. Both seemed to be asleep, or close to it.

Rabbit watched him silently, her eyes slightly red and her face so miserable that he was moved to sympathy. He sighed and approached her, and she stirred hopefully and gazed up at him. He stood over her for a minute, considering what to say. "Rabbit is sorry?"

She nodded emphatically. "Yes master. Rabbit is so very sorry." He replied, "Say for what. What did Rabbit do bad?" She looked down, abashed, but didn't speak. Momir waited, then prompted firmly, "Say for what, Rabbit."

She sniffed, and spoke softly, "Rabbit hurt her master. She was bad and made her master bleed." Momir nodded slowly. "Never, Rabbit. Never hurt your master." She snuffled loudly and nodded at his feet. "Never, master. I'll be good. I'm sorry I hurt you."

He lifted her chin and looked into her face, reading her expression carefully, until he was sure her apology was sincere. Releasing her, he untied first her hands, then her feet, and finally her neck from the post.

She waited passively as he freed her, then lurched to her feet and pressed her face and palms against his chest. After a moment she started sniffing him intently, then looked up, confused and upset. "There is a smell on you, master. What--"

Momir quickly covered her mouth with one hand, and began pulling off the dead man's shirt with his other. "Ssh, pet. Is nothing. See." He pulled the shirt off over his head and tossed it away, naked before her now.

She sniffed him again, then put her arms around his waist and pressed herself close. He pulled her onto the bed with him and lay beside her sisters, and she quickly settled into his arms.

Soon she was rubbing her body against his, her hands playing on his flesh, hoping to rouse his lusts, but he quickly stilled her with a firm touch and a hissed admonishment. "No. None for Rabbit. Tomorrow. Sleep now." She sighed loudly to make her disappointment known, but obeyed his directions.

Momir wondered to himself if it was the presence of competition, the order of the Premier, or something else that had made her into this obedient creature so suddenly. This wasn't her fantasy play-acting, she seemed to accept that he was in charge now.

He mulled the question over in his mind, but he was more relieved than concerned, and the short day full of new revelations and life-changing decisions and Nessus and Oerid's hot, tense bodies had sapped his energy. Sleep found him before an answer did.

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