The Cabbie and the Cop – 19

As Simeon settled down in one of the two armchairs, putting his tea down on the small table between them, Vergil studied him.

Do I trust him? Probably. But do I want to open up to him? He frowned as he perched on the edge of the other chair then took a big gulp of coffee. “Damn,” he muttered.

Simeon chuckled. “Too hot?”

“Yes.” He set the cup down beside Simeon’s, drumming his fingers on the table afterwards.

“That’s quite annoying,” Simeon commented.

“Sorry.” Vergil stopped. He put his elbows on his knees, clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them, staring down at the carpet.

“Does whatever’s got you tied in knots have to do with something which happened here, or something in your past life?”

“In my past, before I came here. You read the paper you ‘found’ in my bag. You know what it said.”

Simeon nodded. “It was basically a ‘To Whom It May Concern’ letter saying you were a free man and had permission to be in this world. It was signed by Káno... I forget what his name was, by order of the Aran. To the best of what I remember of your language Káno means commander and Aran is elven for king.”

“Right on both counts,” Vergil muttered without looking up.

“So, my immediate question would be were you a soldier or in prison?”

“Neither.” Vergil’s mouth tightened. What the hell, it’s gone this far. “I was a slave.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Vergil spat out, lifting his head to stare at Simeon defiantly. “I. Was. A. Slave.”

“Oh I heard you all right. I wasn’t questioning your words; just the fact there is slavery in your world. I though elves were freedom-loving people.”

“There’s freedom and ‘freedom’, just like here. There’s also war, just like here. My father was a warrior lord. He was captured by his enemy. My… servitude bought his freedom.”

“His enemy. Singular?”

“Yes. It was a war between our families to begin with, although it spread soon after his release. Unfortunately for me that was too late. I became a slave to the man whose hatred my father had earned.” Vergil worried his lip. “The hatred was justified, although I didn’t know it at the time. My… captor was a close ally of the king’s. My father… wasn’t.”

“Your father must have been a real bastard to be willing to give you to this man.”

Vergil shrugged. “I suppose he was. I suspect he figured his freedom was paramount so he could continue the war. One could hope he thought he’d win and get me back.”

“What made you so important that you became a bargaining chip?”

“I have a special rapport with animals. Much more so than most elves. I can make an animal do anything I command it to.”

“A nice plus I suppose, if you could make a wolf or some other beast attack your enemies. It could come in very handy in wartime.”

“Exactly. The man, his name was Andaer, was certain he could persuade me to do just that. When I refused…” A shudder ran through Vergil’s body. “He wasn’t cruel, he didn’t torture me in order to make me do what he wanted. Instead he sold me, with the condition he could buy me back if I changed my mind. He sold me to a neighbor who needed a, well house boy would be the description you’d understand I suppose, although house slave was more like it. I was forced to do all the work no one else would lower themselves to do.” He snorted morosely. “In an estate as large as his there was no lack of chores. For two years I was at everyone’s the beck and call. If I rebelled, which I did at first, I was starved into submission.”