Time moved so fast while working in the Palace. Caydrick had been working there for nearly two years and had gained some weight after getting food regularly. His ribs no longer poked out, even though he was still very thin and small for his age. Though during the last few months, his growth had really advanced, placing him at a height around 6'1. He was now amongst some of the tallest slaves in the bunch.

He slept in a huge room with all the other slaves, on actual pallets; Something he never did in his previous years as a slave. Every morning they got served a breakfast consisting of porridge and a cup of water before they started their assigned work. They worked until noon where they got a 10 minute break in which they got offered a cup of water in the Slave Area. After that, they continued working until sunset where dinner then was served; Porridge. Due to the amount of porridge they got, Caydrick was now well nourished.

The only thing slaves actually feared around here was getting whipped and getting lost in the Palace; Both of which happened a lot.

The Palace was huge; It had hundreds of rooms, where about 500 of them were forbidden to enter without permission. Remembering which rooms were allowed and which were forbidden was one thing, but remembering where they actually were was another.

But somehow Caydrick learned fast, thanks to his smart head. With his personal needs now getting attended, he found himself working much better and harder than before. He avoided getting whipped too roughly, only now and then if he had been working to slow. Eore was a hard man to please; Even if the floor was scrubbed down to the stone, he would always find a spot which needed attending.

Caydrick had also gotten a friend over the past two years. His name was Moteith. He was two years younger than him, but he was just as mature as Caydrick. He had met him one day where he and Moteith had been given the order to clean the entire outdoor pavillion floor with just two small cloth pieces and single bucket of water. So there they were, on their knees, scrubbing the floor, when Moteith suddenly started whistling a song. It was low at first, but then he got louder.

Caydrick had shot him a warning glare, telling him to hush in case he was heard, but Moteith had just given him a smirk and kept whistling. Caydrick had looked around, afraid they were disturbing someone, but it seemed they were all alone. Before he knew it, he had started whistling as well; The two of them just kneeling on the floor, whistling weird songs.

Of course they had ended up getting heard by a passing guard and ended up getting whipped for disturbing the peace. By the end of the day, the two boys sat on their pallets and just started laughing at each other and their bloody backs. They told them each others names and got to know each other. Moteith was called 'Double M', because they already had an 'M', but Caydrick just called him 'Mo'. Soon, they were buddies. They had their pallets next to each other. If one of them had had enough beatings for one day, the other would help out and draw attention. Whenever they ate, they would sit together and tell each other about what had happened during their day. And it was in such a moment where life again took a turn for Caydrick.

The sun was setting all around the Palace, and slaves were eating their dinner porridge. Moteith was telling Caydrick all about his day.

"So I hear someone coming in, and the worst part is, I can hear what they are doing," Moteith told with a spoonful of porridge in his mouth, "Believe it or not, a guard and a maid walks through the door, and let us just say, they did not want to be disturbed," He shot Caydrick a knowing glare who started grinning. "So of course I panic and make the horrible decision to hide in one of the stables when I realize they have not seen me yet. I planned on waiting until they left, only they did not," Moteith drawled and made a long sigh, perhaps reliving the memory, "They start going at it, right there in the middle of the stables. I heard everything," He sulked and let his head dump onto the table with a thump. "I am going to have nightmares tonight."

Caydrick could not help but burst into laughter, nearly spilling his own porridge. "By Gods, Mo, why did you hide in the stables? You could have stayed in the open where they could see you, and then maybe they would not have-"

"But I panicked!" Mo exclaimed and shot him a wide-eyed stare. "The maid was giggling and moaning, pleading him to 'shred her bodice-"

"I do not need to know the details," Caydrick interjected when Mo started groaning.

"It was horrible, Cay. I mean, I heard so many things, my poor soul will never forget," He dramatically said, plastering a haunted look on his face. "I shall forever be haunted by their sins."

Caydrick rolled his eyes. "You are a simpleton, Mo."

"Perhaps, but I was not thinking straight. All I thought about was The Bloody Snake," He said and shivered by the thought.

'The Bloody Snake' was what the slaves called the whip Eore carried around. Not only was the handle designed to look like a snake, but the lash was always tainted with blood, dripping terrifyingly. Every slave feared it, like the people feared the plague.

Suddenly two huge slaves, older than the both of them, decided to break their conversation by slamming their bowls down next to Caydrick. Mo flinched, sinking lower into his seat and piping down, but truly, he had nothing to fear; The two older slaves were staring at Caydrick with curled lips and spite written all over their faces.

And Caydrick knew why; He had recently gotten so good at his job that he hardly got whipped anymore. Honestly, that was a lie; everyone got whipped, but Caydrick had been doing good lately, and that meant he had avoided the whip lately. The other slaves were staring to get jealous, or they got suspicious that he might be sucking up to someone.

One of the older slaves, a guy with a bald head and muscular arms turned towards him and shot him a dead look.

"So, K. How many times did you get whipped today, huh? None like yesterday?"

Caydrick chose not to answer the question. They were looking for trouble and he knew they would get it if they started an argument. No doubt it would rise attention and they would all end up getting whipped.

Poor Moteith was scared of the older slaves, especially the ones who had whatever little muscles they had. Moteith was pretty tiny himself, only about 5'8 and scrawny by size. His mob of black curly hair shielded his eyes from their stares as he continued silently with eating his porridge.

"Well?" The older slave pressed on, "How many?!"

"Why does it matter?" Caydrick curtly answered and shot him a glare. He was not scared of him, even though he was twice his own size. Not to mention his buddy by his side.

"Why does it matter?" The older slave repeated with an sneer. "Because you fucking never get beaten! I want to know how you manage to stay on the goodie-list!"

"I do my job," Caydrick replied coldly. He noticed Moteith whimper under the table.

"Oh, yeah?" The older slave snapped and stuck out a chiseled chin, "And what is that suppose to mean? You do not think I do my job properly!?"

So much for not starting an argument, Caydrick thought when he noticed how people were staring to look at them. The older slave was not exactly keeping his voice down.

"I think this conversation is over," Caydrick said and scooped his last spoonful of porridge into his mouth. Moteith looked relieved, but only before the older slave abruptly stood up.

"I will tell you when this is over!" He screamed, now causing the entire room to go quiet. "When you have told me who you are fucking to keep your back scratch free!"

Everyone was staring at their small group of four; Caydrick who was sitting resolutely in his seat, the older slave who was standing beside him, glaring down at him, while his friend - a guy who was very silent - slowly stood up next to him, and lastly Moteith who had all but crawled under the table.

Nobody spoke. Nobody breathed. They all stared at Caydrick, waiting for his next move.

He slowly stood up, training his eyes at the older slave in front of him, ignoring the gasping crowd who had formed a circle around them.

"Listen," He started calmly while Mo tried to sneak out of his chair without drawing too much focus. "I do not want to cause any problems. I do my job as the rest of you do yours," He said, hoping he could maybe reason with them, though it might be a bleak chance. The older slave looked ready to blow up.

"I am curious, boy, what exactly is your job?" He spat, taking a threatening step closer. "Or should I say, who?"

"Do not be ridiculous," Caydrick said and rolled his eyes. It was ludicrous to even think that he was sleeping with someone to avoid getting whipped. The idea was preposterous, simply because he - as well as most of the other slaves - did not have any sexual experience.

"You are calling me ridiculous now?!" The older slave roared. Caydrick could now see he had made the mistake of calling him names. He took it way more offensive than what was meant.

"Mo, I suggest you might run now," Caydrick advised his friend over his shoulder. He heard Moteith make a short whimper before he took that advise and ran off. Caydrick did not blame him. After all, he was only 15. Two years younger than himself and at least 15 years younger than the older slaves.

The older slave roared at Caydrick, seizing the opportunity to attack him.

Caydrick had seen it coming though; He quickly pulled his chair out in front of him and backed away as the older slave tripped over it and landed on the floor in a clutter.

His friend was right behind him and headed for Caydrick who was working his way opposite around the table. His friend ran around it while Caydrick made sure to stay on the other side. At this point, the other slave had gotten to his feet and joined his mates side, now both of them standing opposite Caydrick. He saw them exchange a look before they bolted each way around the table, heading straight towards Caydrick who was now trapped.

He reacted instinctively; He jumped up on the table and averted their collision and instead escaped to the midst of the table. But the older slaves were quick and changed their strategy; They lunged forward over the table, reaching for Caydrick's feet.

Again, it was like an instinct inside him told him to jump and so he did; causing the older slaves to collide on the middle of the table and inevitably getting smashed by Caydrick's feet as he landed again. They both howled in pain when their backs made an uncomfortable cracking noise as Caydrick then quickly bolted off the table and onto the ground again.

And that was when a loud swishing sound went through the air, causing all eyes to seek out the noise to find a pissed off Eore glaring at them, whip in hand.

"What in the Queen's name is going on here?!" He screamed, leaving every slave in the room silent. Nobody dared to speak.

Eore's eyes flipped to the two slaves that was lying on top of the table before they turned toward Caydrick who was the only one sticking out of the dense crowd.

His eyes read murder. "You!"

Caydrick fell to his knees so fast the stone clonked against his kneecaps. The two older slaves were slowly regaining their strength before they also crawled to their knees, next to Caydrick.

Eore looked upon them all. "Will one of you useless pieces of horseshite explain to me what happened here?!" He demanded of them, his voice angrier than Caydrick had ever heard it before.

- There was no way they were making it out of here alive.

"Sir," The older slave who had initially started the whole thing, croaked. "It was K. He attacked us."

What? He was going to try and pass it off as Caydrick's doing?! No way in hell.

"That is a lie!" Caydrick loudly snapped.

The room went so silent you could hear a needle drop.

"What?" Eore whispered, dead silent. "YOU TWO BETTER GET YOUR STORIES STRAIGHT OR I WILL SLAY YOU WERE YOU KNEEL!" He roared at them, making the whole room flinch in shock. Nobody had ever heard Eore scream like that. They were in a hell of a lot of trouble.

Well, might as well make the best of it, Caydrick thought, and was just about to open his mouth when a small voice suddenly spoke.

"Sir, I can tell you what happened."

Caydrick's head whipped up to see Moteith poking his head out from behind a taller slave.

Eore's eyes shifted to him and gave him a hard stare, "You better not be wasting my time, Double M, or the same fate will await you."

Moteith noticeably coiled in fright, but gathered all of his no doubt sparse courage. "I saw the whole thing happen."

Eore narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him, but then gave a brief nod. "Then tell from the beginning! And I swear if you lie, I will have your head on a spike."

Moteith gulped down a lump of fear before he stepped forward and recaptured the whole thing, bit by bit. He told how him and Caydrick had been calmly taking when they had approached them and started harassing Caydrick. He mentioned how Caydrick had tried to settle the situation calmly, but that the older slaves did not listen to him. He even got through to the part where they had jumped him and how Caydrick had avoided their attacks by simply jumping out of the way. He ended the speech with a shaky voice, "... And that is when I fetched you and came back to see this," He finished and gestured towards the table the two slaves had been tumbled upon.

Eore did not speak right away after Moteith had finished. It was obvious he was considering the truthfulness of the story.

Caydrick was eternally grateful; Moteith had put his life on the line for him, by coming forward and telling the story. Everyone knew that if Eore deemed the story to be a lie, they would all loose their heads and end up spiked on some pole as an example. Caydrick knew that what Moteith had done for him was something he would never had thought anyone would ever do for him; He tried to save him - he was even the one who fetched Eore.

Finally Eore seemed to have wielded the story into his head. "You claim that K," He shot a look towards Caydrick who looked down at his feet, "managed to outsmart and battle these two older, bigger slaves?" He said in a voice that carried all sounds of disbelief.

- Even so, Moteith nodded firmly, but gulped down a lump of fear.

Eore assessed his nod. "And where is the proof?"

There was all the proof he needed; The fact that Caydrick was unharmed and the two older slaves had been bundled up in a mess on the table. Hopefully that would not pass by unnoticed.

Moteith must have taken his question as rhetorical, because he did not answer. Only seconds later, Caydrick figured out why.

Caydrick was pulled to his feet by his hair, the action causing him to stifle a cry of pain as Eore brought his head level to his.

"Tell me, boy," Eore growled into his face. He looked much more threatening up close. "Why should I believe in his story?"

Caydrick stayed silent for a few seconds, considering his reply. He did not know how to respond.

Eore growled and released him, letting him drop to the floor before turning towards the two older slaves. "You two!" He barked and jabbed a finger at them. "You are going to get what you deserve, mark my words." He then turned to face Caydrick who was slowly finding his balance of his feet. "As for you... you are coming with me."

Caydrick's eyes snapped up by the sound of this, and then all of a sudden he was being dragged along by two other guardsmen. Before he could even react, they were leading him out of the Slave Area and out to the hall.

Caydrick looked over his shoulder and saw Moteith's head sticking out, his eyes wide and focused on him. He looked absolutely horrified, seeing his friend being led away. They both know what that meant.

Caydrick sent him a last smile before he was dragged away, hoping he would remember him by that. In the end, Moteith had done everything he was suppose to, but Caydrick knew he would blame himself for having him executed. He prayed to God that he would help him see that it was not his fault.

The guards followed Eore who led them down different corridors, not speaking a word the whole time.

Caydrick silently wondered what kind of death awaited him. Beheading? Stoning? Maybe a knife through his heart? It could be anything, really, depending on what mood Eore was in.

Caydrick did not dare speak as they entered a new corridor, a corridor that he to his surprise recognized. He could see the large characteristic wooden doors at the end of the hallway, but he could not understand why he was being led here. It was not until they were right in front of the door that Eore stopped and beat his knuckles against the wood.

Caydrick's heart hammered in his chest as they waited. Why he was going there was uncertain, but if he would ever walk out of there alive was even more so.

Caydrick lowered his head as the doors to the Throne Room opened. He entered the room that would seal his fate, just as a feminine voice spoke.