The Copper Horse #2 Pride (7 page)

Frey’s brow
furrowed. “We either crush Gregorovich’s men with a bigger force,
which could be extremely hard at the moment, or try to work things
out with him. The man got rich on his own farms but is losing out
on taxes. If we work together, it might be a way to keep up our
business and make friends with him. That would help us lobby for
the laws
we
want when he properly goes into power. Are you
following, Erik?”

“No, I’m always
leading. Aren’t I, Copper?” Erik leaned down to kiss Reuben’s
forehead and grinned at his brother.

“Can you stop
being an ass for once?” Frey slammed his hand against the desk so
hard Reuben flinched away from sniffing Erik’s lips.

“Just tell me
what to do.” Erik returned to the fainting couch and sat down.
“It’s not like I have a choice in the matter.”

“I just hoped
that maybe one day you would like to engage more with the
family...” Frey sighed, spreading his arms.

“Spare me. I
will never forgive any of you, so just get on with it.” Within
seconds, Erik’s voice became cold as a winter storm in the north,
and Reuben rubbed his cheek against his master’s thigh in an
attempt to comfort him. He seemed upset.

“You will
prepare papers allowing more transports. Make a report about more
bodies that need to be taken out of London. Maybe also a need for
more wagons. I will take that to Gregorovich and propose a deal. I
hate his guts, but we need to think long term, and the man’s got
ambition.”

“Hasn’t it
occurred to you that if you show him all those papers, your cover
will be blown if he refuses?” Erik asked him dryly.

“No. He already
knows what we do. If he doesn’t accept, we’ll have to move the
whole operation. To the sewers maybe, which would be a pain to
clear out. But if he agrees, he gets our infrastructure and doesn’t
pay tax on a number of his wares. He can’t just take over the whole
thing, ‘cause we would know, and we would have ways to report him.
It’s all still sticky, but he’s an opportunistic businessman. I
talked to Mother, and she agrees we should try to work with
him.”

Erik snorted.
“Just make a list, because I can’t be bothered to remember all
those plots. Whose blood is that by the way?” he asked, nodding at
the stain next to his butt.

Frey grinned in
a way much different than than the way he smiled to his wives. “One
of Buff’s men was trying to get to know Bryana a little too
well.”

Erik burst out
with whole-hearted laughter. “Did she even need her knight in
shining armor?”

Reuben looked
up at his glass, but moved away slightly. How could they talk so
lightly of such things?

“I bet she
could have handled it herself, but it was a nice touch. Wanted to
show her that she’s under my protection now.” Frey smirked and
crossed his large arms on his chest.

“You’re being
generous, given that she probably only has to spread her legs for
you twice a week at best.”

Frey’s face
fell. “You’re such a filthy little prick. Maybe if you had a woman,
you would know it’s not just about fucking all the time.”

“Well, it’s you
who needs a minimum of five women at any given time. I make do with
one horse,” Erik said and stroked Reuben’s mane.

“I don’t keep
them as fuck slaves,” Frey said, and those words made Reuben look
down. He didn’t like to think of it that way; he and Erik shared
much more than violence.

“I wouldn’t
need to enslave him.” Erik’s hand fell from Reuben’s head and
clenched on the upholstery.

“Oh yeah?” Frey
snorted and approached them with a cool smile. “What do you say,
pony boy?” Suddenly, he was squatted in front of Reuben and grabbed
his cheeks without force, but without much tenderness either. His
hands were rough and smelled of the gravy they’d had with dinner
“Would you stay with Erik if he didn’t keep you shackled? You like
kissing his boots?” asked Frey in a sympathetic tone, as if he
spoke to a child. Was that what Erik thought of him?

Erik grabbed
his brother’s wrist. His slim fingers looked ridiculous curling
around that powerful forearm, his knuckles white as ice. “Don’t you
fucking touch him!”

Frey let his
hand linger for just a second more, as if to prove a point, but
moved away. Reuben didn’t even know when his body started shaking,
but his muscles spasmed over and over again.

“Built like a
sailor and skittish as a lamb.” Frey sighed, disapproval clear in
his voice.

“If anything
happens to him, even if it’s a fucking road accident, I’m gonna
assume it’s your doing! And I’m gonna take your eyes out with your
own fucking quill!” Erik was shouting now as he pressed Reuben
close to his tense thigh.

Frey put up his
hands. “Easy there. It’s all good. I was just talking to him.”

“Don’t fucking
talk to my horse!” Erik shot to his feet, practically chest to
chest with his brother who, in comparison to Erik, looked like a
tower of a man.

Frey didn’t
step back but didn’t push Erik away either. “I think we’re done for
today.”

There was an
obvious tension to Erik’s back and the way he clutched his fists at
his sides, but he still chuckled, looking straight into Frey’s
eyes. “Don’t fuck with me, brother. I’m not the one with things to
lose.” His voice was quiet, barely louder than a whisper, but it
carried a threat that would have turned Reuben into a submissive
puppy if it were directed at him.

Frey took a
long look at Reuben. “I suppose you’re not.”

“I’m warning
you!”

“I’ll make a
list of required documents for you.”

Erik huffed.
“Have it delivered.” And with that, turned on his heel. “Copper,
we’re going home.”

The next few days were
tense. Erik spent most of the time in his office, leaving Reuben in
Jack’s care. And as much as he enjoyed his groom’s attention and
company, Reuben still missed Erik, so he was excited to be back in
his cart gear again. The streets were crowded and dirty, but he
took the chance to show off his skills and strength in smaller
alleyways where there was no one to get into his way. And it was
getting him the reaction he wanted. His master praised his speed
and the broad expanse of his back, his posture, the tightness of
his ass. Those words alone felt like a caress, leaving Reuben
hopeful for the real thing upon their return. He would have smiled
at Erik if he could, but he was too focused on the run, and he was
masked anyway.

It felt good to be
out, even if he couldn’t really breathe in much fresh air through
the mask. He didn’t realize how much he’d grown until Erik had to
get his outfit altered at a tailor’s. But he was moving with
purpose, helping Erik do his job. There was nothing more important
in Reuben’s world. They struggled through the crowd in the
marketplace, and Reuben felt his face heat up when Erik traced the
crack between his buttocks with a riding crop in front of
everyone.

“You missed this,
haven’t you?”

Reuben snorted like a
horse, and it made a few passersby back away, warily watching him
as if he were to kick them. He didn’t mind being watched as long as
he was covered, reveling in the anonymity it gave him. After a few
days of Erik being essentially married to his desk, Reuben missed
both the outings and the touch on his ass. He loved being teased
there, even more so now that he realized he didn’t have to mix the
pleasure with pain.

“Such a well trained
pony. You make me proud, Copper! We should resume your training
today, what do you say?” Erik asked when they finally made the turn
into the main street.

Reuben slowed down and
gave a curt nod, but then proceeded further, with his head high.
The sense of purpose it gave him was always a thrill. His stomach
did an uncomfortable flip when Reuben noticed Frey’s house. Its
shape was genteel, much like many of the grand buildings of London,
but the marble tiles covering the outer walls made it look a bit
silly. Even Reuben knew too much was just too much. If you overwork
the bread dough, and the end product would be ruined. It was that
simple. Then again, judging by the way Frey dressed his wives,
opulence must have been exactly the look Frey was going for. But
Erik urged Reuben to go on. It was the furthest Reuben had ever
been in Bylondon.

“Straight ahead,
Copper,” Erik told him, punctuating the words with a gentle slap of
the crop. “Almost there”.

Reuben smiled under
the mask, but his heart sank the moment he saw a familiar face in
the crowd. He felt as if someone punched him in the gut, and he
slowed so abruptly that the cart almost pushed him into the dirt.
Reuben swallowed in panic and began backing out of the alley.
Jacob
. It was fucking Jacob.

Reuben couldn’t let
Jacob see him like this! He was the one who’d sold him off to the
Pit of the Dead! And there the fucker was, flirting with a girl in
pants so tight there was no doubt whatsoever about her gender. He
was eating a pie, which he’d probably bought with the money he got
for Reuben’s life. It was almost as if he were munching on a human
pony sausage.

“Copper! Hush! What is
it?” Erik smacked him again with the crop.

Reuben let out an
inarticulate sound, focused on getting out of this alley as quickly
as possible. His heart pounded as he frantically turned to pull the
cart in the other direction.

“Copper! What the hell
are you doing?” Erik yanked on his reins, forcing Reuben’s head
down. “Stop.”

“Nnn!” was all Reuben
could communicate through the bit, fighting the pull on his head. A
sudden grip on his neck brought him back to reality.

“Where do you think
you’re going, you fucking freak?” Hans growled straight into his
ear, his presence as menacing as ever. Maybe even more so with all
the people around them about to watch Reuben’s humiliation.

He whined behind the
mask, trying to pull away from the choking. Anything but Hans and
his crude methods!

“And now, you turn
back and go where your master leads you,” the bodyguard growled
quiet enough for no one else to hear. “Or it’ll be a wooden stick
up your cunt instead Bluefinger’s cock!”

Instead of moving,
Reuben turned his head to Erik with a whinny, trying to get his
attention, but how could he if he couldn’t speak? Erik needed to
understand what was going on! It was becoming difficult to breathe
in the mask, and even though Reuben’s vision was partially
obscured, he could see people stopping to watch the spectacle. They
were laughing and pointing fingers at them.

“Move, you little
fucker!” Erik growled in a voice so deep and low it barely sounded
like him anymore.

Reuben couldn’t fight
the sob that tore from his lungs, though he was happy to at least
be hidden behind the mask. Hearing words like that from Erik was
far worse than being beaten for disobedience. It was as if his
master had no love for him anymore. Why else would he not listen?
Panic choked him almost to the point of fainting.

Hans enforced Erik’s
order and pulled Reuben’s arm with no mercy. And there was Jacob,
watching him with a huge smile while his companion whispered
something straight to his ear.

“Someone didn’t train
their horse too well, Mister Bluefinger!”

After the first tear
streaked down Reuben’s cheek, he couldn’t stop sobbing, angry with
himself as much as with Erik. He wanted to disappear. Not be here,
not be himself. And with Hans by his side, Reuben had no choice but
to move and pull the cart along. He couldn’t believe this was
happening to him. That he was so humiliated in front of the man
who’d sold him into slavery. No, into an arena to die.

“What a lousy beast
that is! Maybe you should have my brother trained! He’d be
willin’!” laughed a woman in the crowd.

Erik was dead silent
as Hans forced Reuben to stand at a steel wall and used some of the
straps on his outfit to fasten him to one of the thick rings meant
for real animals, no doubt.

Reuben trembled,
nervous and nauseated. The thought that Jacob saw him like this,
probably knowing it was him, humiliated him even more. It was far
worse than being raped. It was worse than being thrown into the
river after being raped.

“Need some help with
the whip, Bluefinger?” asked a woman to his side as she approached
without any respect for his personal space.

Reuben felt Erik
jumping off the cart, and then he was there, unbuckling Reuben’s
mask in careless, rough moves. Reuben’s knees softened, barely
holding him up at this point as he looked into the black goggles
that shielded his master’s gaze from sight.

“It seems I have been
too easy on you, Copper,” Erik said through gritted teeth.

“
No, no, no no no no!”
Reuben mumbled
through the bit, panic sending his breakfast up to his throat. He
couldn’t believe Erik would do this to him when he knew how much
Reuben didn’t want to show his face in public! Reuben tried to pull
away from his master’s hands, already drenched in cold sweat, and
when that didn’t work, he changed his tactic and pushed forward,
making Erik sway backwards. Laughter filled the narrow alley, as if
it were a puppet show the people were watching.

But it was no use, and
the moment the mask was off, Erik hit Reuben’s face so hard he saw
stars. His head spun, and the distinct, metallic taste in his mouth
had to be blood. “Bad pony! Stay!”

Reuben gritted his
teeth over the bit, his face on fire. He was tied to a pole,
everyone knew what Erik was doing to him in the privacy of his
home, and worst of all, he couldn’t stop sobbing, half expecting
tomatoes to hit his face. Or perhaps someone’s piss. One of the men
who’d fucked him once pissed on him afterward, and Reuben had been
too drunk to stop him.

And despite the way
Erik tore his heart into pieces, Reuben still whined after him,
afraid to be left without his protection. During their outings Erik
would always leave him guarded or just unbuckle him from the
carriage and take his pony wherever he himself was going. But
Reuben couldn’t pretend to be invisible anymore. With his head
pulled back between his shoulders as much as possible, he
reluctantly looked around at the small crowd gathered to watch
Bluefinger’s pony unmasked. And Jacob was there of course, staring
at Reuben’s face with amused disbelief.