Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/13268835.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Teenage_Mutant_Ninja_Turtles_-_All_Media_Types
  Relationship:
      Raphael/Donatello_(TMNT), Leonardo/Michelangelo_(TMNT)
  Character:
      Raphael_(TMNT), Leonardo_(TMNT), Donatello_(TMNT), Michelangelo_(TMNT),
      Splinter_(TMNT), OCs
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe, Alternate_Universe_-_Royalty, Royalty
  Stats:
      Published: 2018-01-04 Updated: 2018-03-28 Chapters: 4/? Words: 10955
****** Shadow Prince ******
by Applepye
Summary
     Raphael and Michelangelo are the sons of a king who had conquered
     Leonardo's father. Now Leonardo lives in exile, raised by Splinter
     and trained in the secret arts of the shadow warriors.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Demitrio sat in his highbacked chair, listening to his councilors. He was a
turtle of many years but a relatively new king, only recently inheriting the
kingdom from his father.
Turtles live for well over a hundred years. Some have been known to live to see
two hundred. So, by turtle standards, Demitrio was still young at sixty.
It’s what made them ideal for the role of king. Their long lives mean that they
had patience and their children had time to learn before taking over. Despite
being new to the throne, Demitrio had sat by his father’s side for longer than
his councilors had been alive.
They had been discussing the situation to the east. King Benvolio was expanding
his borders again, swallowing up a smaller kingdom and setting one of his many
sons to rule.
He had been slowly expanding his borders for decades. His goal was to unify all
the kingdoms under one family, with him as the emperor, whether the other
kingdoms liked it or not. He was well over a century old and cunning.
“This puts him right at our borders,” Oroku Saki, the army commander stated. “I
need more resources if I am going to keep his armies at bay. We need to raise
taxes.”
“Our kingdom is naturally fortified,” Hamato Yoshi, the trade guild leader
argued. “The location of the river and the mountains provide a barrier. Our
city is built in a way that makes invasion nearly impossible. You don’t need
any more resources. Your job is practically done for you.”
He was human, like Saki, and approximately the same age. His family has been
serving the king for generations. They oversaw the construction of the city.
Which was why he had such confidence in it keeping them safe.
While the design was ingenious, it would not protect them from a massive
invading army for long.
“Not to mention that our gods protect us,” Tang Shen, the high priestess,
added.
She was the most beautiful woman Saki had ever seen. Her long, black hair
flowed freely down her back and nearly reached the floor. Flawless, ivory skin
and a grace in her stride that looked as if she was floating, made it seem as
if she had been plucked from the astral plane. And, she was engaged to Yoshi.
Saki scoffed. “The gods. So, it was because King Stephan’s people weren’t
praying hard enough that King Benvolio’s armies were able to prevail.”
“King Stephan’s kingdom was on the brink of ruin anyway,” Splinter, the king’s
ambassador said. He was a brown rat about the same age and height as Saki.
Although he was a diplomat, he was also a seasoned fighter. He knew how to move
without being heard. Saki hated it. It meant that Splinter could appear,
seemingly out of nowhere at any time.
Saki had to be careful when making his dealings.
“Then why didn’t we invade it first,” Saki wanted to know.
“I am not a conqueror,” Demitrio stated. “I have no desire to expand my
borders. We have more than we need here.”
“King Stephan’s people would have done better under your rule,” Saki argued
“and benefited greatly from our resources. You are a good and just king. King
Benvolio is far from it. Who knows what atrocities those people are facing now.
And, never mind trade agreements. They might have been on the brink of ruin but
they were our main source for salt.”
“We will find another source,” Yoshi said. “Stretching ourselves thin, by
conquering another kingdom, would not better our situation.”
“It doesn’t matter now,” Saki snapped, with a wave of his hand. “What matters
is our own safety. If Benvolio attacks now, he would win.”
“Then it seems that the problem lies with you, Commander.” Demitrio said, his
voice deep with anger and a not so veiled threat.
“I am the best,” Saki hissed. “But, even I will fail if my hands are tied.”
“I will not tax my people more,” Demitrio said in such a way that expressed any
further discussion on the topic would not be tolerated. “You are all
dismissed.”
Saki turned on his heel and stomped out of the council chambers. His trusted
general, Hun was waiting for him in the hallway.
“How did it go?”
Hun was a large man and one of Saki’s best fighters. Young and eager to please
his commanding officer, Hun was willing to do anything that was asked of him.
Like most of the army, Hun was loyal to Saki.
“Our king has refused my request,” Saki answered.
He didn’t need to say anymore. Hun knew what to do next. Without a word he set
off down another corridor to follow through with the next part of their plan.
They were one of the richest kingdoms in all of the land and yet the ruling
class lived like paupers when compared to those under Benvolio’s rule.
Not anymore. It was time for a new king.
…..
Saki stood on the high wall surrounding the city and looked out over the
horizon. People from the east had been fleeing into the city for weeks, seeking
protection. Benvolio’s army, led by one of his sons had started their push into
the kingdom. Now they were at the city’s gates.
It was an impressive sight to see. Now that it was standing in front of him,
Saki had no doubt in his mind that, even with the added resources, there was no
way he would have been able to hold them off for long.
What was about to happen was inevitable, fighting them would lead to bloodshed.
Too bad the others didn’t see it that way. He never really liked them anyway.
Yoshi stood at his side, having insisted on seeing it for himself. “What do we
do now?”
Saki scoffed in response, glaring at the councilor. Now he was willing to
listen to what Saki had to say. Too little too late. The army was loyal to him
and would do as he commanded. His command was for them to stand aside and do
nothing.
“Open the gates.” Saki climbed down the steps to meet their soon to be king and
Yoshi followed.
“What are you doing,” Yoshi demanded. “I don’t think you can reason with them.”
The massive turtle entered the city and stood in front of Saki. He was larger
than Demitrio, meaning that, since turtles never stop growing, he was a few
decades older. He wore leather, studded armor and a metal helmet, and carried a
large sword that Hun, despite his massive size, would have a hard time
wielding. The straps on his arms were barely big enough to fit over the bulging
muscles and looked ready to snap at any moment.
“I am Prince Arigio. Son of Emperor Benvolio. I am told that we have an
arrangement.”
“An arrangement?” Yoshi turned to Saki. “What does he mean?”
Saki took a knee. “My men will not try to stop you but that does not mean that
you will not be met with some resistance.”
“You are a traitor,” Yoshi yelled.
In one fluid motion, Saki stood and drove his dagger up into Yoshi’s gut. “And,
you are a fool. There is no way we could win against an army this size.
Yielding to him will save the lives of many. I do this for the greater good.”
Blood seeped from Yoshi’s mouth as he desperately clung to Saki. He tried to
speak but choked on his blood.
Taking a step back, Saki allowed Yoshi to fall before turning back to Arigio.
“I apologize for that, my lord.” He cleaned his blade on Yoshi’s back. “He was
one who would have given you the most resistance.”
Arigio considered Saki for a moment. “You will lead me through the city?”
“I will, my king,” Saki said, lowering his head. “All that I ask in return is
that I remain commander over the army so that I can continue to protect my
people.”
“Having you and your men loyal to me will free this army to continue in my
father’s conquest,” Arigio said. “Though I will keep a few personal guards,” he
gestured to the large turtle warriors by his side. “I will allow you to
remain.”
Saki bowed. “Then allow me to show you to your throne.”
The city streets, that Yoshi was sure could stop an army, were built like a
maze, meant to confuse any outsider. Having grown up in the city, Saki knew
them well and led the army on the most direct path to the castle.
They were met with little resistance. Saki’s men kept the people off the main
roads and out of the way of the invading army. When they entered the castle, it
wasn’t until they entered the throne room that they encountered Demitrio’s
personal guards.
Most of the guards were also Demitrio’s mates and fought hard to protect their
king who fought beside them. Arigio’s guards met them head on. Determined to be
the one to end Demitrio, Arigio joined in the fighting.
One by one, Demitrio’s guards fell and Demitrio was subdued. He struggled
against his captures but to no avail. “How can you betray me like this?” he
yelled, glaring at Saki.
“I do this to save lives,” Saki replied. “My duty is to protecting the people.
I will not sacrifice them in a futile attempt of saving your crown.”
Arigio knelt beside the body of his one fallen guard. Tears filled his eyes as
he closed those of the dead turtle.
The turtle family structure was a unique one. To help prevent them from
producing too many children in their long lives, male turtles take several
other males as their mates and they live in family units with a few females. A
king will have his queen as the only female, who only mates with him and his
male mates serve as his personal guard.
Saki found the whole situation to be unsavory. The thought of bedding another
male was repulsive to him. But, at least it kept the turtle population under
control.
Some say that it was because Benvolio preferred the company of his queen that
he ended up with more sons than he knew what to do with and so decided to
expand his kingdom to accommodate them instead of allowing them to fight for
his kingdom.
Getting to his feet, Arigio addressed Saki. “Is there a prince?”
“Would you like me to kill him for you?” Saki offered.
Arigio shook his head. “Bring him to me. You can kill the queen and anyone else
who stands in your way.”
“As you command,” Saki replied with a slight bow and then signaled for Hun to
follow.
In the back of the throne room was a secret door that led to a hidden chamber.
As expected, the queen was hiding with her child. Shen was with her, praying.
When Saki and Hun entered the room, Shen stood to face them. “Saki, stop.”
Saki laughed. “Where are your gods?” Pulling his dagger, he stalked closer to
Shen. “Will they save you?” Like with Yoshi, Saki shoved the dagger just below
Shen’s ribs, piercing the lung. “Maybe you weren’t praying hard enough.”
Shoving Shen aside, Saki approached the queen.
The young queen held the small prince to her chest. “Please.”
It was the first time Saki had seen the prince, or any baby turtle. As large as
turtles tend to get, they start out so small, about half the size of a human
baby. It made sense given the fact that the unyielding plastron would not
expand to accommodate anything larger.
“I’m not going to kill him,” Saki assured her. “Our new king wants me to bring
him to him alive.” He reached out for the baby. “Give him to me.”
“Why are you doing this?” she whimpered. She was not a fighter, having been a
priestess before she had been selected to be Demitrio’s queen. “Why would you
betray your king?”
Saki glanced down at Shen and shrugged. “Must be the will of the gods.” Turning
back towards the queen, Saki plunged his dagger into her neck. Her eyes were
fixed on Saki in a state of shock and she let out a small whimper.
Saki shushed her as if soothing a frightened child. “Give me the baby before
you drop him.” He reached down and lifted the small bundle with one hand as the
queen’s arms went slack. “This is going to be a mess to clean up later,” he
said to Hun as he pulled the dagger from the queen’s neck.
“That’s what the servants are for,” Hun replied flatly as they turned to leave
the room. “Below me.”
Once they were back in the throne room, Saki wasted not time presenting the
baby to Arigio. “The prince.”
Arigio considered the baby, it looked even smaller in his large hand. “Did you
kill the queen?”
“I did,” Saki said, nodding his head.
He was expecting the new king to kill the child by simply crushing it in his
hand. But, instead, he knelt next to Demitrio and showed the baby to him. “I
want you to know that your son will live,” Arigio stated. “He looks to be about
the same age as my son. He will make a good play companion and whipping boy. My
son might even take him as a lover, unless he loses interest in him. Then, I
will have to kill him.”
Knowing his end was near, Demitrio stared intently at the ground and gave no
reply. Arigio pulled a dagger from his belt and plunged it into Demitrio’s
neck, moving it and twisting it slightly. “Have we taken care of all who might
resist,” he asked Saki.
“All but one,” Saki replied. “A rat, named Splinter is unaccounted for. He held
the position of ambassador. It’s possible that he is away.”
“A rat was your ambassador?” This surprised Arigio, which was to be expected.
Rats were usually assassins, utilizing their natural stealth and flexibility.
To have one as a public and political figure was unheard of.
“He is dangerous,” Saki warned, “like any rat. I would highly recommend that
your guards say alert.”
“Noted.” Arigio nodded and then turned his attention to the baby in his hand.
“I forgot to ask the child’s name.”
Saki shrugged. “They hadn’t had the naming ceremony for him yet. I was never
told.”
“I’ll call him Donatello,” Arigio said and handed the baby over to one of his
mates. “Get the staff in here to clean up,” he said to Saki. “My queen has been
with us on this campaign, sleeping in a tent and I’m sure she is eager to see
her new home and a proper bed.” He waved his hand around to indicate the
bodies. “She doesn’t need to see this when she arrives.”
“I will make sure that it is done quickly,” Saki promised.
“My men will take care of the one that is ours,” Arigio said, looking down at
the body.
“Of course,” Saki replied with a bow.
“Tomorrow, the people will meet their new king and queen,” Arigio said.
“I will do all that I can to insure that the transition goes smoothly,” Saki
said before leaving the king to oversee the cleanup.
……
Splinter stood on a balcony that overlooked the city and saw the army
approaching. It was no surprise to him that Saki had betrayed them. There
wasn’t much time.
Running back inside, Splinter made his way down to the temple, where they kept
the orphans. There he found the turtle baby that had been abandoned on the
doorstep of the castle.
It wasn’t uncommon for the poor to abandon their babies at the castle. The
temple priestesses would raise them to be servants. Often it was a better life
than being raised poor, on the streets.
Unfortunately for this little one, his life could be coming to an end. He was
approximately the same age as the prince and Splinter intended on switching
them out and escaping with the prince.
It didn’t take much to convince the young queen to hand over her child. “Cradle
this one as if he were your son,” Splinter instructed her. “They must believe
it is the prince if this is going to work. I will do all that I can to see that
you and the king are avenged.”
Escaping with the child proved to be a greater challenge that he had originally
thought. Saki’s men surrounded the castle to prevent anyone from leaving.
Splinter’s skills were put to the test as he stalked through the shadows to
safety.
He knew Saki would look for him so he couldn’t hide anywhere in the city. Even
the surrounding country was not safe.
He followed the river north until he reached the forest at the foot of the
mountains. Hidden among the dense growth and rocky terrain there was a small
village that even the king was unaware existed.
It was the village of Splinter’s birth and it was there that he intended on
raising and training the prince. He will be the first ever non-rat to be
trained by one.
Splinter entered the village without challenge, though he knew he was being
watched. Despite its vast size and many occupants, it looked like nothing more
than a patch of overgrowth. The homes could only be seen if one knew what to
look for.
Splinter shared his home with his brother Gravel. Since they both tended to
travel, the home was hardly ever occupied. When he entered he found that his
brother had been there no less than three months ago. It would be a while
before he returned.
Settling into his favorite chair, Splinter looked down at the baby. “I am
forever your loyal servant, Prince Leonardo.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
He was never allowed to forget who he was or that his being alive was thanks to
the mercy of the king. Raised as the prince’s whipping boy and personal
companion was a fate worse than death. If it weren’t for the eternal damnation
suicide would have brought him, Donatello would have killed himself long ago.
Maybe one day his tormentors would take it too far and the gods would grant him
his place in paradise. Until then, he would endure.
His life wasn’t without joy. Prince Raphael’s tutor was kind and was one of the
few who had never resorted to whipping him for the misdeeds of the prince. Hun,
on the other hand….
Donatello hissed in pain as he shifted in bed. He was on a thin mat on the
floor but that wasn’t the reason he was uncomfortable. It was hard to find a
comfortable position after taking a switch to the back of the legs.
Hun was Raphael’s weapons’ instructor and Raphael had been a little too
flippant during practice that morning. As a result, Hun took out his
frustrations on Donatello.
It hurt to move. The open wounds pulled and Donatello knew that it would be
worse in the morning.
“Would you stop,” Raphael complained from his bed. “I can’t get to sleep with
all this noise.”
“I’m sorry,” Donatello hissed.
“What is the matter?” Raphael demanded, sitting up to glare down at Donatello.
“The sores on the back of my legs are making it difficult to get comfortable,”
Donatello stated.
Lighting the candle on his night stand, Raphael got up and crossed the room.
“Whippings have never given you problems before.”
“I’ve never received one from Hun before,” Donatello argued. “The others
usually do one leg, once. Hun did both, multiple times. No matter how I lay, it
hurts.”
“Let me see.”
Donatello was hesitant but knew better than to argue. Fighting the pain, he got
to his feet, turned around, and with trembling hands, removed his pants.
Raphael knelt to examine the makeshift bandages. “Tuck your tail any tighter
and it will be in your ass. Relax. I won’t touch you there.” Pulling down
slightly on the bandage, Raphael lifted the candle higher to inspect the wound.
“Your flesh is warm. That’s not good.” Standing, he felt Donatello’s face with
the back of his hand. “The warmth has not spread.”
Raphael walked across the large room and opened the door. There were always
servants and guards at the ready at any given moment. They would stay up all
night just in case the royal family wanted something.
Donatello could not hear what was said aside from the common, “Yes, your
majesty,” reply. As they waited in silence, Raphael used his candle to light
the mounted lanterns.
It wasn’t long before there was a gentle knock on the door.
“Come in,” Raph called out as he blew out his candle.
Nevio, King Arigio’s whipping boy growing up and the one who had taken care of
Donatello during infancy, entered the room. “Your majesty.” He bowed to Raphael
before beginning his approach towards Donatello. “I understand you have some
deep lashes?”
“Hun whipped me today,” Donatello answered, struggling to hold back his tears.
Though he could speak freely around his caretaker, Donatello had to remind
himself that Raphael was still in the room. Saying the wrong thing would get
him in trouble.
“Lie down,” Nevio instructed. “I’ll tend to them.” Nevio was the only one who
understood what Donatello was going through. He was also the son of a conquered
king, taken as a child to serve the new king’s son.
Like Donatello, his legs were covered in old scars, lashes that Arigio had
earned for him. Though Arigio eventually took him as a lover, being a slave, he
was never raised to the ranks of a mate. While Arigio’s mates led a pampered
life, Nevio slept on a pallet on the floor with the rest of the servants.
It was a wonder that he had managed to maintain a pleasant disposition. There
was almost always a smile on his face and a sparkle in his eyes. How was it
that he wasn’t dead inside?
Nevio tended to Donatello’s wounds. The salve he used stung at first, it took
everything Donatello had not to cry out, but the pain faded, leaving a dull
ache.
“What is going on?” The booming voice of the king had Donatello frozen in
terror. “Why has my son summoned you to his room?”
“Donatello needed me to tend to him,” Nevio replied in an even tone as he
carefully wrapped Donatello’s legs. “Your weapons’ master has a heavy hand.”
Giving Raphael a sideways glace, Nevio smiled. “It seems that the young prince
did not wish to lose his servant to a fever and had requested that I do what I
am permitted.”
“Is it bad?” Arigio asked.
Nevio shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Your father’s weapons’ master also had a heavy
hand and you liked to try his patience.”
“Don’t forget your place,” Arigio warned.
“Never do,” Nevio smiled as he put away his supplies.
“Do you really care so much?” Arigio asked the young prince and knelt next to
Donatello. Placing his hand at the base of Donatello’s carapace, Arigio forced
his finger under Donatello’s tail. “Don’t fight me.”
His finger pressed against Donatello’s entrance. The pain if it caused
Donatello to tense and whimper. Arigio hummed with displeasure. “You haven’t
had him yet.”
Removing his hand, Arigio considered his son. “Are you not interested in him?”
“I don’t know,” Raphael mumbled, uncomfortable with his father’s question.
“At your age you should be having sex,” Arigio stated. “If you don’t want him,
we can do a call out so you can select a mate and I will take him.” He looked
down at Donatello and ran his fingers over Donatello’s cheek. “He turned out
prettier than I thought he would.”
“Arigio,” Nevio said, “he’s too young.”
Arigio lashed out so quickly that Nevio barely had time to react. The back of
Arigio’s hand connected with Nevio’s face, sending him to the ground. “Your
place,” Arigio roared.
“My apologies, your majesty,” Nevio said as blood fell from his lips.
Donatello moved to comfort his caretaker but his hand was snatched away before
it made contact. Arigio lifted him as if he weighed nothing and tossed him on
the bed. Turning to Raphael, he said, “Have him tonight or I’ll take him in the
morning.”
“He’s hurt,” Raphael argued.
“He is a slave,” Arigio hissed. “Your pleasure is all that matters.”
Unable to maintain eye contact, Raphael looked at the ground. “Yes, father.”
“You’re done here,” Arigio said to Nevio. “Clean yourself up and get back to
bed.”
“Yes, your highness,” Nevio said as he collected himself off the floor.
Arigio took a few deep breaths to settle his anger before turning back to
Raphael. “I will check him in the morning.” He did not wait for Raphael to
reply before storming out of the room after Nevio.
Raphael stood, looking at Donatello. “I don’t want to lose you to him.”
Try as he might, Donatello could not stop the flow of tears as Raphael joined
him on the bed. Closing his eyes, he tried not to think about it.
“You have to lower your tail,” Raphael said as he poured olive oil on his
fingers. “Or we could not do this and you can go to my father in the morning.”
The thought of being with Arigio was enough to motivate Donatello to part his
legs and lower his tail. It wasn’t much of a choice but staying with Raphael
was preferable to being with Arigio.
Raphael was generous with the oil, pulling his finger out every few seconds to
add more. Donatello had to admit that he hadn’t expected Raphael to take his
time. He made what was expected to be a painful experience, nearly painless.
Raphael’s finger occasionally brushed against a spot inside Donatello that sent
shockwaves to his core. Donatello’s body started to react to the stimulation
and it wasn’t long before his penis emerged.
Biting his bottom lip, Raphael grabbed it with his oil slicked hand and gave it
a few solid tugs. There was a needy look in his eyes as he admired its length.
With a heavy sigh, Raphael moved between Donatello’s legs and added more oil to
his cock before placing his tip at Donatello’s well stretched entrance.
“Wow,” Raphael grunted as he pushed into Donatello. He took care not to push in
too deep to avoid grinding against Donatello’s tender legs.
He struggled to last longer than a few staggering thrusts. Trembling, he let
out a soft cry and came inside of Donatello. He sat back on his feet, looking
down at Donatello while he settled his heavy breathing. Judging by the look on
his face, he didn’t seem satisfied at all.
The thought of failing to please Raphael had Donatello in a sudden panic. Maybe
the prince was considering letting his father had him after all.
Raphael reached out, paused for a moment and then grabbed hold of Donatello’s
penis. Donatello gripped the sheets and gasped as Raphael jerked him off.
After a few moments, Raphael straddled Donatello’s hips and lowered himself
down. The tight warmth of Raphael’s inner walls took Donatello’s breath away.
He couldn’t believe what was happening.
Raphael road him hard, taking in the entire length of Donatello’s cock. The
shock from the unexpected act coupled with the pain in his legs, helped
Donatello last long enough for Raphael to climax again. The sudden clenching of
Raphael’s rectum around his cock overruled all other sensations.
It was the first orgasm for Donatello and it left his body numb. For a brief
moment he was in a state of bliss. The pain in his legs quickly snapped him
back to reality. As the euphoria wore off, it left behind a sickening
sensation.
“You can’t tell anyone about this,” Raphael mumbled, looking down at the pillow
next to Donatello’s head. “Not even Nevio.”
“Your father…,” Donatello started but Raphael interrupted him.
“Will be checking you in the morning, not me.”
“I won’t say anything,” Donatello promised.
“Good,” Raphael replied and then got up to blow the wall lanterns out. “You can
say in the bed, if you want. Maybe you’ll have an easier time getting
comfortable and we can get some sleep.”
Donatello didn’t think he could get up even if he wanted to. “Okay.”
With the last of the lanterns extinguished, Raphael crawled back into bed. In
the dim moon light, Donatello swore he saw a glimmer of moisture on Raphael’s
cheek.
…..
He was never allowed to forget who he was or that it was his duty to avenge his
father. Every day of Leonardo’s life was spent training, learning how to hide
in the shadows and to kill. Though Leonardo would never be able to be king, at
the very least, they could get their revenge against the ones who so callously
killed King Demitrio.
Another thing that Leonardo was never allowed to forget was that rats were
loyal to no one. They were assassins and thieves, selling their services to
those who could afford it and never choosing a side in a conflict. The fact
that Splinter had sworn loyalty to a king made him an outsider to his own
people.
When Leonardo asked Splinter why he had gone against the nature of rats and
sworn loyalty to his father, Splinter told him that it was because Demitrio
showed him mercy but did not go into details.
“A man like your father, deserved my loyalty,” Splinter told him.
“Why must I be the one to take revenge?” Leonardo asked as he sharpened his
sword by the fire. “You loved him so much, why don’t you do it?”
“He was your father,” Splinter replied.
“I never knew him,” Leonardo argued.
“The reason for that is because Arigio killed him,” Splinter pointed out.
“Aside from that, I am too old to do it. I had difficulties escaping when you
were a baby and that was sixteen years ago. My body will no longer allow me to
do it, so you must.”
Leonardo checked the edge of his blade. “What will happen after?”
“Prove your skills with this and the others will accept you,” Splinter said.
“You will be the first turtle assassin. You will be added to the network and
sent out on missions. And, I will finally have peace.”
Leonardo sighed and placed his blade in its scabbard as he stood. “Very well.
If it will help you find peace, I will do it.”
It wasn’t the first time Leonardo had gone into the city surrounding the
castle. He had run the roof tops many times at night, just for fun, mapping out
the streets. He knew his way through the city better than anyone.
Today he was hiding out in the open. Turtles were common in the area. His sword
and dagger were hidden among the loose folds of his over sized attire. He
looked like the youngest son of a simple farmer wearing hand-me-down clothes,
sent to the city to fetch supplies. No one paid him any attention.
He found himself a place to hide until dark. Shedding his baggy clothes to
reveal the dark colored ones underneath that made him appear as nothing more
than a shadow.
Settling in, Leonardo closed his eyes and entered into a meditative state that
allowed him to rest while remaining aware. He waited until it was well past
dark when only the lowest of citizens were still awake, peddling goods and
services that were either illegal or questionable.
Now the fun would begin.
Without as sound, Leonardo made his way through the city, staying in the
shadows. He slipped past sentries with ease as he made his way through the
castle grounds.
Like the city, the castle was built for defense. Secret passageways snaked
through the interior and, judging by the level of dust within them, had been
forgotten. Despite the fact that it was his first time in the castle, Leonardo
knew them well. Splinter had made sure of it.
He had checked several rooms before finding the one he was after. Drawing his
dagger, he crept his way to the bed, ready to slit the throat of his slumbering
victim.
The light of the waning moon shone through the high window, illuminating the
young prince’s face. He was the younger of the two, named Michelangelo. A
backup just in case something happened to the first.
Clutching the dagger, Leonardo stood over the prince ready to strike but
hesitated. He wasn’t able to bring himself to do it.
The young prince opened his eyes and even in the dim light the bright blue
seemed to sparkle like a well-polished sapphire. They filled with fear as soon
as he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Are you a ghost?” He glanced quickly at the dagger. “Are you here to kill me?”
Leonardo didn’t answer. He didn’t trust his voice. There was something about
the prince that caused his heart to hammer in his chest.
Stepping back, Leonardo fought with himself over what to do next. He wanted to
stay. The longer he stayed the greater the chance of getting caught. Then there
was the fact that he was there to kill the prince. If he left, the prince would
see how he entered the room.
Michelangelo’s blue eyes narrowed as he studied Leonardo’s face. “Why would a
ghost be younger than when he died?”
Leonardo must have made a face because Michelangelo sat up to explain. “You
look just like the former king, only young. Who are you?”
“What is going on?” King Arigio’s voice echoed down the hall.
As Michelangelo’s attention was turned to the door, Leonardo raced out through
the secret passage.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Leonardo took his time returning home. He was not ready to face Splinter.
The task of killing another turned out to be a harder one to fulfill than he
had thought. He had loved everything about his training up until that point. He
thought he was ready to move forward, to be an official part of the clan.
Now, he questioned everything.
If he could not follow through with killing the son of the man who had killed
his father, how could he ever expect himself to be able to execute a contract?
He could not bring himself to that level of detachment.
He returned to his hiding spot to retrieve his disguise. As he dressed, he
wondered what his life would have been like as a simple farmer’s son. Honest
work with and honest skill that benefited many.
Sitting in the dark, Leonardo contemplated his options. Part of him loathed the
idea of returning to Splinter. But, where would that leave him? He had no other
skills but the ones meant to kill. And, if he defected, the Rats would not
hesitate to seek him out and kill him to protect their secrets.
Faced with no other option, Leonardo headed home.
He trudged along the outskirts of the forest to admire the stars before having
to enter under the thick canopy. He never took the same path or a direct path
when returning home. A worn path was a guide, so there could never be one.
Despite his training, Leonardo always made a point to pass by his favorite spot
in the forest, the upside-down tree.
The tree had somehow taken root on the underside of a cliff face. Growing down
and out towards the light, the tops of its branches reached the ground and
spilled out in every direction. Judging by its size, it had to have been
hundreds of years old.
He had climbed it many times to get to the top of the cliff where a small
spring sat. Some of the tree’s roots could be seen at the bottom of the clear
pool. Leonardo found it to be a marvel of life’s persistence.
If the tree could survive and thrive in such a strange and difficult situation,
so could he.
A rustle of leaves behind him pulled him from his thoughts. Drawing his dagger,
he turned to see what it was.
A pure white stag stepped into a clearing and the area seemed to brighten with
his presence. Majestic antlers branched out high above his head. The steady,
grace of his movements led Leonardo to believe that it was no ordinary stag.
He had never seen anything so beautiful. A little unsure, Leonardo bowed to him
while tucking the dagger back into its sheath. If it was a forest god, it would
not be wise to offend him.
It took his breath away when the stag gestured in kind and Leonardo swore he
saw him smile before bounding away back into the thicket.
In a state of disbelief, Leonardo made his way through the small, hidden
village and into one of the many entrances of his home.
“Leonardo?”
“Yes, Splinter, it’s me.”
Splinter entered the room followed by three other rats. The excitement from
seeing the stag left him as a lump formed in Leonardo’s stomach then moved to
his throat.
“Well?” Splinter prompted.
Leonardo began to remove the farmer’s disguise. “I could not do it.”
One of the other rats huffed.
“He is not the first to have difficulties going through with their first
assassination,” Splinter stated, glancing over his shoulder to glare at the
offending rat.
“No, he is not,” another rat agreed, taking a step forward. “But the fact that
he is not truly one of us means that he has to be better if he wishes to be
accepted.” He regarded Leonardo. “Why could you not kill them?”
“I made it to the chambers of one of the princes,” Leonardo said. “I was ready
to kill, until I saw him. Then it all became too real. I could not bring myself
to do it. He is innocent.” He decided it would be best not to mention the fact
that the prince had woken up.
The rat who had huffed before, scoffed. “We are not to judge innocence or
guilt. We are hired to kill, so we kill.”
“I cannot be so cold,” Leonardo said, looking down at the ground. “I cannot
kill someone simply because someone else believes they should die. He has
wronged no one.”
“Your father wronged no one,” Splinter said. “But he was killed so what he had
could be taken.”
“The prince did not do that,” Leonardo argued. “His father did. Send me to kill
just the king and I will do it.”
“The king must know that his legacy will not go on,” Splinter insisted.
“Enough,” the third rat interrupted. “It’s better this way. We need to stay out
of politics.”
“He’s right,” the second stated. “We only allowed this political assassination
to be his test because it was one of personal revenge and knew it wouldn’t
really change anything in the long run. Now that the boy has proven that he
doesn’t have what it takes to be one of us, we need to decide what to do with
him.”
“I will not reveal any of your secrets,” Leonardo said.
“That isn’t our only concern,” the third said. “Not only do you know our
secrets, you know our skills and, frankly, you’ve mastered them quite well,
aside from your unwillingness to kill.”
“Then, he can teach,” Splinter offered.
“I don’t know if anyone will send their child to be trained by an outsider,”
the first said.
“He was raised here,” Splinter argued.
The third shook his head. “He is still an outsider.”
“What are my options,” Leonardo asked.
“We don’t know yet,” the second said. “This is unprecedented. The leaders of
multiple clans are coming together to decide.”
The pit in Leonardo’s stomach filled with despair. If they decide that he is
too much of a risk, there was no way to stop them from ending his life. There
was nowhere he could hide. They would find him.
“We will let you know,” the first said as they exited.
Splinter regarded Leonardo for a moment before saying, “Come eat.”
Leonardo followed Splinter into another room where a plate with fruit, cheese,
and a small loaf of dark bread waited. As Leonardo tore into the bread,
Splinter placed a small bowl with three boiled eggs next to the plate.
Boiled eggs were Leonardo’s favorite, especially when they were cooked enough
to solidify the whites while keeping the yolk creamy.
“They were supposed to be a reward,” Splinter said as Leonardo reached for one.
“I’m sorry,” Leonardo said, picking up one of the eggs. “I didn’t want to say
this in front of the others but, I saw a white stag, in the forest as I made my
way back tonight. I don’t think it was what it appeared to be.”
Splinter sat down in his favorite chair as he pondered Leonardo’s encounter in
silence. His schooled expression showed nothing of what was going through his
mind. After a while, he sighed and looked into the cold fireplace.
“Perhaps you made the right decision.”
…..
“Wake up.”
Raphael’s gruff voice pulled Donatello from the best sleep he had ever had. The
bed was comfortable and he wanted nothing more than to stay just a little
longer.
“It’s morning,” Raphael said, nudging Donatello. “My father will be here soon.
You have to get back to your bed. He can’t find you in mine or he might beat us
both.”
That was enough to snap Donatello out of his sleepy haze. He shifted to get up
and was met with pain. The sores on the back of his legs weren’t the only
things that hurt. Looking up at Raphael, he felt his face flush as he
remembered the events of last night.
The door opened and the king stepped through. “He’s still in your bed.” Nevio
followed him inside but stayed back, waiting.
Raphael jumped out of bed and hastily pulled on his pants. “We exerted
ourselves to the point of exhaustion. I was too tired to care that he had
fallen asleep before going back to the floor.”
“Good,” Arigio said with a wide smile. “But, don’t make a habit of it. Never
let him forget his place.”
“Yes, father.”
Arigio nodded to Nevio. “Go on.”
Rushing over to the bed, Nevio knelt next to Donatello. “Are you alright?”
Donatello nodded. “I’m a little sore.”
“That’s normal.” Nevio flashed Donatello a knowing smile. “Did he use the oil?”
Donatello nodded.
“Good,” Nevio said with a sigh of relief. “In time, it will no longer hurt in
the morning. You might actually start to enjoy it.”
“I doubt it.” Donatello reached out and gently touched the deep bruise on
Nevio’s cheek. Tears filled his eyes and he wondered how Nevio could still be
smiling.
“I’m fine,” Nevio reassured him. “I’m here to tend to you. Let me see how those
wounds are healing up.”
“What is that smell?” Michelangelo blurted out as he entered Raphael’s room.
“And why is father’s slave messing with Raph’s slave?”
“Nevio is tending to Donatello’s wounds,” Raphael said, punching Michelangelo
in the arm. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Don’t hit your brother,” Arigio warned. “What you smell is the scent of sex.”
Michelangelo made a face and then looked at Raph. “Was he willing?”
“He is a slave,” Arigio said. “He doesn’t need to be willing, just obedient.”
“Everything looks good,” Nevio said as he stood and collected his things. “The
muscles will feel tight for now but once you get moving, the pain will
dissipate.”
“The two of you go help with breakfast,” Arigio said before turning to leave.
“I have a busy schedule today and I don’t want things delayed any longer.”
“Yes, your highness,” Nevio said. “Come, Donatello.”
Donatello quickly dressed in his simple slave attire and followed Nevio to the
kitchen.
They were met with a sweltering heat the moment they stepped inside. In the
winter, the heat of the kitchen was welcome but in the midst of summer it was
almost unbearable.
Donatello went to his station, checking and tasting items that were meant to go
to the princes. The plates were not to leave his sight. Anything added would
have to be sampled. This process insured two things, that the food was good
enough to be served and that there was no poison.
He would have to sample everything again at the table when he delivered the
food.
Nevio was responsible for the king and queen. Two other slaves tended to the
plates of Arigio’s mates. They did this with every meal. The four of them were
the best fed slaves in the kingdom.
“Raphael doesn’t like any brown on his eggs,” Donatello said after looking at
one of the plates. “And the yolks look too set. These are over cooked.”
One of the kitchen hands pulled the plate aside while another got to work
preparing two more eggs.
Once the meal was finished, the four slaves left the kitchen together, pushing
carts laden with food. Each cart had enough food to feed a small family and the
majority of it would return to the kitchen, untouched.
Donatello served Raphael first. He ladled some porridge into a bowl then added
cream, candied nuts, and honey. Before placing it down he took a bite, placing
the used spoon into a bucket. Michelangelo liked his porridge with butter,
sugar, and berries. Donatello had to admit that he liked Michelangelo’s better.
Their plates with eggs, sausage, bread, fruit preserves, and cheese were placed
down while they ate their porridge. Donatello went through several utensils,
sampling each item. By the time he was done, he was full.
He stayed close while they ate, remaining ready to serve them or to clear
emptied plates.
When the princes were finished with their meal, Donatello cleared the table and
rushed the dishes and leftovers back to the kitchen.
“No complaints from the princes,” he announced as he left the cart. He didn’t
have the luxury to linger.
He met up with the brothers in the wash room. Aids were there, tending to them
while they soaked in their baths. Fortunately, this was one task that was not
left for Donatello and it gave him a few moments for himself.
Stripping himself, Donatello took the opportunity to bathe using a bucket of
water and a scrub brush. A clean set of clothes was waiting for him and a fox
child took his dirty clothes to be cleaned.
Donatello then went into the connected room to inspect the clothes that had
been set out for the princes. They were going to be sitting with their father
at court later and needed to be dressed properly. They needed to look regal but
not in their finest.
He switched out a few items, either because he knew that the princes had out
grown them or did not like them. Everything had to be in pristine condition,
nothing could show any sign of wear, so he looked over every inch.
Michelangelo was the first to be sent in to be dressed, giving Raphael more
time to be pampered. He saw the clothes and smiled. “I love this one. The fur
is so soft.”
After Michelangelo put on all that he could himself, Donatello got to work.
Michelangelo studied Donatello’s face while he helped him get dressed. “So, you
and Raph had sex?”
“Yes, my lord,” Donatello replied while he worked on some fastens.
“Were you willing,” Michelangelo asked.
“I am a slave,” Donatello said, wishing he could ask the prince to stop moving
so much. “It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to Raph,” Michelangelo said. “He’s told me before that he didn’t want
it to be forced. He wants a willing partner. He seems upset, so it makes me
think that you weren’t willing. But, I don’t know why he would force it and he
won’t tell me.”
“It’s not my place,” Donatello said.
“I command you to tell me,” Michelangelo said, emphasizing his order with a
stomp of his foot.
“It was because of your father,” Donatello told him. “He said that if the
prince did not have me, then he would take me for himself.”
“No wonder he’s mad,” Michelangelo mumbled. “His choices were, lose you or
force you, two things he never wanted.”
“You’re all done,” Donatello said as he finished with the last buckle.
“Don’t be mad at Raph,” Mikey said as he shifted to test the fit.
“I am not given that luxury,” Donatello stated.
“Yeah.” Michelangelo sighed and headed for the door. “I’ll see you in the court
room. Father tells me that a rabbit is coming in today. I hear they look like
rats with long ears.”
“A rabbit?” That was interesting news. There were no rabbits in Benvolio’s
empire. They live in a land across the vast ocean. Travelers and traders tell
stories about them but Donatello has never seen one. “That would be interesting
to see. Do you know why they’re here?”
“Father didn’t say,” Raphael said as he entered the room. “He just told us that
we were having an audience with one and not to stare.”
“We both know father was directing that last part more towards me,”
Michelangelo said as he headed out the door.
“Is this alright,” Donatello asked, gesturing to the ensemble.
Raphael sighed. He hated formal attire, preferring his hunting or training
gear. “That will do.”
The formal attire looked like warrior gear but was more ornate and lacked
practicality. The leathers were soft, instead of sturdy and was trimmed with
fine, soft pelts. The only thing worn that was battle ready were the weapons.
Raphael’s weapon of choice was a pair of double headed battle axes that he wore
across his back. Not easily accessible if he were to enter into a fight. They
were more for show.
“We need to put in an order for new arm belts,” Donatello said and he pulled
the belt tight around Raphael’s bicep. “This one is on its last notch.” The
size of Raphael’s arm was both impressive and frightening. The thought of him
striking Donatello caused his cheek to hurt. “It’s not too tight, is it?”
“It will do for now,” Raphael said. “Are you done?”
“Yes, my lord.”
Raphael tested the fit. “I hate wearing this shit.” He looked at himself in a
long piece of polished metal. “But, father insists and I can’t go against his
wishes.”
“Are you alright, my lord,” Donatello ventured to ask. “You seem out of sorts.”
“I’m fine,” Raphael said, keeping his eyes on his reflection but abruptly
turned away. “Let’s go.”
“Yes, my lord,” Donatello said and followed Raphael.
***** Chapter 4 *****
Michelangelo stifled a yawn, earning him a sideways glare from his father. They
had been sitting in court for several hours, listening and passing judgements
on disputes that could only be settled by the king. Most concerned land rights
or trade deals and a few cases dealing with criminals.
There was a crowd gathered. A bunch of busy bodies with nothing more to do
during the day than to see what they can gossip about tomorrow.
Arigio sat in a large chair with Raphael and Michelangelo in smaller seats on
either side of him. Donatello stood with Nevio, behind the royal trio and
several other servants stood at the ready to be summoned at a moment’s notice.
The princes’ teacher, April, sat at a small, nearby desk to take notes. She
used a special form of shorthand that she could later elaborate on for record
keeping.
A noble family of humans, a man, his wife and their daughter, stepped forward
to stand in front of the king. The daughter was being comforted by her mother.
A human commoner in shackles was dragged up by guards and forced to kneel a few
feet away from them.
“This man attacked my daughter,” the noble man said. “He violated her, forcing
himself on her.”
The king looked the girl over. “Did he?”
She nodded in response.
“Are you sure this is the man,” Arigio asked. “I do not want to condemn one man
to the fate that should befall another.”
“It was him,” the girl sobbed, keeping her eyes down.
Arigio then turned to the prisoner. “Do you have anything to say in your
defense?”
“I touched her breast,” the man said with a touch of fear in his voice. “She
was coming on to me like a harlot. I had no idea she was a noble’s daughter.”
Arigio growled and then turned to Raphael. “That was as much of a confession I
need. For his crime the punishment is either life in prison or death. You can
decide.”
Raphael leaned back and thought. “I think we should let the victim decide. She
also has the option of asking for mercy and a lesser sentence.”
Arigio’s eyes narrowed slightly but he said nothing.
“Death,” the girl said without hesitation. “He took from me something I can
never get back, my peace of mind.”
“Death it is,” Arigio said and gave his son a measuring glance. “Raphael, kill
him.”
Stone faced, Raphael stood and drew his dagger. “Yes, father.”
“I don’t deserve death,” the man yelled as he struggled against the guards.
“Please don’t do this. I didn’t know! She was coming on to me.”
“Ignorance does not excuse you from the law,” Arigio said.
The guards held the man’s head back as Raphael pulled his blade across his
throat. The floor was covered in sand for this very reason.
As the man struggled to breathe the guards released him, allowing him to fall
to the floor. It didn’t take long for the life to drain from him. Servants
rushed forward and lifted the body into a wheelbarrow and then shoveled the
blood-soaked sand on top of him.
Another team added more sand and smoothed it out while the body was carted out
a side entrance. The evidence was erased before Raphael was able to clean his
dagger and return to his seat.
One of the nearby human slaves fainted, the try of goblets she was holding
clattered to the floor. The crowd gasped as all eyes turned to her. Arigio
turned to see who it was but said nothing. Other slaves hastily collected her
from the floor and carried her away.
As the nobles were being escorted from the room, the announcer introduced the
next to appear. “Miyamoto Usagi is here to request land for his people.”
Michelangelo perked. “Isn’t that the rabbit?”
“Tact,” Arigio warned under his breath. “You are royalty. People are supposed
to be in awe of you, not the other way around.”
A servant opened the door and a white rabbit stepped into the court. He walked
up the narrow path, through the crowd to stand in front of the king and bowed.
It wasn’t a deep bow but was more than just an inclination of the head,
revealing that the rabbit saw himself as greater than a commoner but not quite
a noble.
“I come from across the sea with my people,” Usagi said as he stood erect. “We
have fled our war-torn country and now seek refuge here. At the moment, we live
on boats but that cannot last. I am told that you have farm land that you might
be willing to allow my people to settle.”
“I do,” Arigio said. “The field can be flooded for rice and there is an orchard
full of plum and apple trees. It will support livestock and is close to a trade
route. It is also close enough to the ocean that the village could support
fishermen.”
“The locals in that village will welcome us?” Usagi asked.
“There are no locals.” Arigio stated. “The village is vacant. There was a
plague nearly seven years ago. Wiped out the whole village. The priestesses
assure me that the area is clear of both the illness and vengeful spirits, and
that a water spirit has moved into the river.”
Usagi lifted an eyebrow. “A spirit?”
Arigio nodded. “Do you not have them where you are from?”
“We do,” Usagi said. “The ones that dwell in the water are known as Kappa and
are not pleasant.”
“I assure you that this spirit is good,” Arigio said. “I can have a priestess
teach you and your people about our different spirits.”
“I do not expect you to give up land for nothing,” Usagi said. “What is your
price?”
Arigio smiled. “You would be correct. For start, you and your people would have
to pledge loyalty to me as your king and my father as the emperor. Some will be
required to join the guard.”
“That will not be a problem,” Usagi assured him. “My people are accustomed to
monarchies.”
“Second,” the kind continued. “You will obey our laws and pay respect to our
gods.”
“That is understandable,” Usagi replied.
“I have been told that you call yourself a bodyguard,” Arigio said.
“I am.” Usagi nodded.
“Good,” Arigio said. “My brother’s kingdom has seen a rare influx of young
girls while my kingdom has seen too few. For you to have the land, I will need
you and a handful of men to escort a caravan of young boys to my brother’s
kingdom on the other side of the empire and then return with a caravan of
girls. You will get all the food and supplies you will need from each kingdom
as you travel.”
“That will take months,” Usagi said. “My people cannot live on the boats for
that long, many of them will die before I return.”
“They can have the land in good faith while you perform the task,” Arigio said.
“Thank you,” Usagi said, bowing a little deeper this time.
“If you fail,” Arigio said, his tone dropping, “your people will pay.”
“I understand,” Usagi said.
“Oroku Saki will give you the details,” Arigio said, indicating the commander
of his army.
Understanding that he was being dismissed, Usagi followed Saki out of the
court.
The remining cases were simple land disputes and arguments over who had what
rights. For the most part, the king was settling petty squabbles between
nobles.
When he dismissed the court, Arigio remained sitting. It was apparent that he
wasn’t done but he did not wish to handle the matter in front of the gathered
crowed.
“Where’s the slave that made a scene,” he asked as soon as the court room was
cleared.
The young woman was led by the high priestess, Karai, to stand in front of the
king.
Arigio glared down at her. “Give me one reason why I should not have you
whipped within an inch of your life?”
“Please, your highness.” Karai stepped forward. “She did not know it at the
time but she passed out because she is pregnant.”
“Who gave you permission,” Arigio demanded.
“I did not choose it,” the slave sobbed.
“She was forced, your majesty,” Karai clarified.
Arigio thought for a moment. “If you did not willingly participate, why did you
not come forward sooner?”
“Because I am a lowly slave,” the woman said, keeping her eyes on the ground,
“and the man who forced himself on me is a member of the guard. He said he was
in his rights to have me.”
“Ah.” Arigio nodded his head in understanding. “Do you know who it was?”
“Hun, your majesty,” she answered.
“Bring Hun,” the king ordered, sitting back in his chair, his eyes never
leaving the slave.
They didn’t have to wait long. Hun entered the courtroom and strode up to stand
before the king. “You summoned me, your majesty?”
“Did you take your pleasure with this slave,” Arigio asked, indicating the
young woman.
Hun looked her over. “I’m not sure, I have had so many. She’s pretty enough, so
I might have.”
“She says that you did,” Arigio stated, “and that she is now carrying your
child.”
“Is she sure it’s mine,” Hun asked.
Arigio looked at the woman, expecting an answer. She nodded. “I was a virgin
before and have not been with any other. There is no other possibility.”
“Is she old enough to be married,” Arigio asked. “It’s hard to tell with
humans.”
“Barely,” Raphael answered. “Though they do tend to marry young, they usually
wait until they are at least eighteen.”
Arigio turned his attention back to Hun. “Since she is pregnant with your child
would you like for me to allow you to marry her? It wouldn’t be the first time
I released a slave at the request of a member of the guard.”
Hun shook his head. “Never desired a wife or children. I prefer to take my
pleasures from the slaves.”
Arigio leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he thought. “From now
on, take your pleasures from the slaves I have assigned to servicing such needs
and not from the ones here in the palace.”
“Yes, your highness,” Hun said with a bow.
“You may go,” Arigio said and went back to considering the slave. “What to do
with you? We still have to deal with the fact that you drew unwanted attention
to yourself. You are fortunate that I do not kill children.”
“I like her, father,” Michelangelo said. “She tends to me often and I like
having her around. She has a beautiful singing voice. Please be merciful. She
one of my favorite slaves. Let me keep her.”
“I told you not to pick favorites or get attached,” Arigio said. “They are
fragile creatures that don’t live very long.”
“I know,” Michelangelo whimpered, “but I couldn’t help it. Please don’t take
her away from me.”
“She will be easily replaced,” Arigio argued.
“I don’t want another one,” Michelangelo pouted, “I want her.”
“Very well,” Arigio sighed. “I will indulge you in this. The slave will
continue to work while she carries and when the bastard is born it will go to
the priestesses. For the distraction in court today she will receive ten
lashes.”
“Father,” Michelangelo pleaded.
“Five,” Arigio said. “That is final.”
The girl gasped as two guards grabbed hold of her and forced her to her knees.
Tear filled eyes looked to Karai for help but the priestess turned way.
An old fox with a bamboo cane stepped behind her. The first lash drew a heart
wrenching scream from the young woman. Michelangelo winced and his eyes filled
with tears but Raphael sat stone faced like his father.
With each following lash, the girl’s cries weakened. By the time the fifth one
landed, she had blacked out. The thin fabric of her dress, bloodied and
tattered, fell from her torso. The guards released her and she slumped to the
ground.
“Take her,” Arigio said with a wave of his hand. As the salves took her away,
Arigio stood. “Go see to dinner preparations. It’s been a long day and I am
ready for a hot meal.”
“Yes, your highness,” Nevio said and urged Donatello to follow him.
Leonardo’s jaw hurt from clenching it so hard to keep from crying out. It took
every ounce of restraint not to rush into the court room and kill Arigio for
what he had done. The rats’ indifference was nothing compared to Arigio’s.
Staying in the hidden corridors within the castle walls, Leonardo decided to
follow the two young princes. The fact that the king and his guards were
ignorant to these halls made them a spy’s dream.
Each chamber had a way to watch and listen in on the unsuspecting occupants.
Leonardo wanted to get to know the royal family himself. At the moment, he
didn’t like them very much and was beginning to regret the failed
assassination.
The two princes stood in silence while slaves removed their ornate attire. It
disgusted Leonardo how they would put on such a show. All this pageantry just
to feel superior.
“Leave,” Raphael ordered once it was all put away.
The slaves scurried from the room in fear, knowing that a simple mistake could
lead to a beating.
The brothers stood in silence for a while. Then, Raphael cried out and punched
the wall.
“Don’t!” Michelangelo moved to stand in front of his brother. “If you bloody up
your knuckles, father will ask questions.”
“I knew that if I had chosen imprisonment, father would not have been pleased,”
Raphael said through gritted teeth. “I didn’t think that spoiled noble would
condemn that man to death.”
“You tried,” Michelangelo soothed.
Raphael leaned on Michelangelo as he fought to hold back tears. “Why did he
have me do that? That man didn’t deserve to die.”
“He’s training you, like grandfather trained him,” Michelangelo said.
“I don’t want to be like him,” Raphael whimpered. “He’s evil. I hate him.”
“I know,” Michelangelo said, pulling his brother close. “Calm down. If father
catches you like this, he’ll beat you. Please.”
“Thank you, for what you did for Olivia,” Raphael mumbled as he returned his
brother’s embrace. “If I had tried….”
“I can get by with more than you can,” Michelangelo said. “Might as well take
advantage of it. I wasn’t lying when I said she was one of my favorites. I
could listen to her sing for hours.”
“Me too.” Raphael pulled away from Michelangelo and took a few deep breaths to
regain control. “He’s gonna wear me down eventually. He’s going to break me
like grandfather broke him.”
“I won’t let that happen,” Michelangelo promised.
“I don’t know if you can stop it,” Raphael said, locking away his emotions. “I
die a little more every day.”
Leonardo sat down, overwhelmed with conflicting emotions. It seemed that
everyone suffered under the rule of King Arigio, even his sons.
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