Had Joseph been less disciplined in his training, and more willing to answer his Masters' requests in line with his own desires, he would have told Mois that he did not want to speak with him tonight. He had kept his normal full schedule since this ordeal began, and as such he still had several other chores to do. In any case, he was not in the mood for more clandestine discussions on the subject. He wanted to just do his job and forget anything else about Leader Erik Schumann, a name he recognized from the news all too well. He was one of the key rebel leaders, of the more organized “Xani” cell, one which was characterized as purely radical and dangerous. But the media sensationalized things, and tended to demonize the rebel magicals. Even though Joseph did not know it, Erik forbade practices such as needless killing and suicidal missions.
But Joseph would never refuse an order, or even a request, from one of his masters, and as such, calmly nodded and followed Mois to the dining room, a bucket carrying the cleaning supplies in tow. The dirty laundry, he had already shoved down the chute for some of the other slaves to handle.
“I shall return shortly with your meal. I'm sure the kitchen has nearly finished preparing supper,” he commented as he set down the cleaning supplies and pulled out a dining room chair for Mois. Bowing out of habit, he left before his master could object.
It was only about ten minutes later when he returned with a tray that held a small salad plate and some excellent homemade lasagna. When you had as many slaves as the Vandros family did, there was never a reason to eat the pre-made stuff.
Without being asked, as he knew from Mois' tone that he wanted to converse with him almost as an equal, the head slave sat down across from the elder brother at the small table, and waited to be addressed.
~*~*~
Erik wished he could get up and stretch his legs more, even do some exercising to keep himself busy, but the chains were just long enough for him to get out of the large bed and stand, not enough for him to do much else. He turned his head when Alexi entered, and spoke in a relatively polite tone.
“You have him well-trained,” the former rebel began. “He's... an annoyingly perfect slave. Sad, considering he could probably do a lot more with his life than this. They all could. But he treated me quite well, though I wasn't happy about losing my shirt. I expect you to pay for that by the way.” Erik was surprisingly civil at the moment, and there was even a hint of humor in his voice, but the agony he was in was still quite evident in his red eyes. How can I even be polite to this maniac that fucking imprisoned me? What the hell am I doing?! he thought angrily. But once again, a more rational voice in his head responded. Maniac or not, this damn human has complete control over your life now. It is best not to make him angry. You'll get more information about his intentions by being civil than by just pissing him off. And... well, if there's even a small chance that he's telling the truth, that this is all some part of a big plan to end this war, to bring equality, then he's worth listening to. I've been fighting for over two centuries now. At some point, enough is enough.