Wondrous Master | boyxboy | (Book Three: The Master Collection)

VII - The Hand of Death

Neville shook in his very own bed as he tried to get some sleep. He'd grown tired from the work out at the stable today, and his body was having a difficult time adjusting to the seemingly easy labor. He'd wanted to see Broderick earlier on in the evening, but after being informed that nearly all of his family was back at the manor, Neville knew the times of their private visits together were going to become less and less frequent. There would be no more meals at the dining room table, no more personal musical performances, and certainly...no innocent intimacies.

Inside, he still buzzed quite a bit from having nearly been kissed by the Young Master. Wanting to be held in those arms that made sure he wouldn't be harmed again, Neville had wished to grant Broderick with a simple token of his appreciation, something small that could also speak worlds about just how appreciative he was, indebted, and content to finally be away from something that once showed him countless agonizing days and nights. Broderick had saved Neville, and he wanted the Young Master to know just how deep his gratitude ran.

Almost sure everyone in the Thorne manor was fast asleep, Neville worked himself achingly from beneath the covers and stepped out of bed, the long sheath hem of the nightgown riding up his legs as he slid down the high perched mattress. Once on his feet, Neville went for a candle carrier and lit it, illuminating the room in a soft glow before taking to the corridor. The halls within the servant's quarters were a lot narrower than the main house, but finding his way to the door leading from it wasn't difficult.

The entire manor was silent from the hour as Neville trekked through it, climbing up the carpeted stairwell to the third floor, while also trying to ignore the distress of his overworked thighs and calf muscles.

When he reached Broderick's chamber door, he blew the candle out so the light would not wake him if he was already asleep. After he was inside, he shut the door and felt his way towards the bed with a ghost's touch to be sure he didn't knock into anything. Blindly finding the foot end of the bed, Neville touched down into the plush mattress and lifted himself up. He expected to feel something, maybe accidently bump the Young Master's foot, but he felt nothing and there were no further indentations creased among the covers either.

Neville felt around, and said, "B—Broderick, are you here?"

Not receiving an answer, he felt further onto the bed, realizing that no one else really was in the room with him. When he'd made his way here from the servant's quarters, if there'd been anyone at all awake in the manor, he'd have either heard or run into them. Could it be that the Young Master had stepped out? If so, Neville considered it a bit strange to have to handle something this late in the night. Unsure of what to think, he lied back, taking into consideration that the Young Master must be busy with something. He rested back in the pillows beneath his head and sighed tiredly.

Broderick would be there sooner or later.

_

It had taken quite a bit of time to travel all the way across the city on horseback. After departing the first time, he'd forgotten to arm himself with a bit of protection, and took to his father's private armory for a handgun. It was a small revolver he'd learned to shoot when he was younger, and if Sir Davidson wouldn't cooperate right away, Broderick planned to put it to some good use. He figured he'd be a bit more nervous when coming face to face with this man for the second time, but the closer he drew to the secluded location, the more anxious he got. Maybe it was true that it wasn't his place to end another person's life, but to allow them to proceed with their devious ways was something he would not stand for.

After making his way through the back roads of the city, avoiding active pubs open to late-night patrons, Broderick found himself before a lofty two story manor of red brick and a drive of cobblestone. This was it. This was the place Neville had been trapped and tormented for what the Young Master could only think was an entire year. Inside those very walls, Neville had been beaten relentlessly, molested and held against his will, sold to a man whose arousal stemmed from the assault of young boys. Broderick almost felt contaminated just standing at the bottom of the steps, angry that this man was allowed to live out his peaceful life while he offered others hell. Tonight; however, he would pay in full.