Holding his limp prize off the ground, Lark watched at how quickly these people disappeared off the street. Too fast for the Guardians to react, and many of them escaped. Those who were caught had been trampled in the madness and were awaking with their wrists bound to their necks. Few slaves remained, some that were too weak to run and others that had not gotten their turn with the chain breaking men. Slave owners and bidders pitched in to gather the wounded and weak, rebinding them and ordering that they identify their masters.

Lark dropped the boy he had in his grasp, disappointed that he was not awake to enjoy a lesson, and unclasped his cloak, folding it over his forearm. A royal violet cape dropped down past his ankles, hanging from his shoulders. He shook his head, and tucked the many longs strands of hair that were in his face behind his ear, then cleared his throat and began to speak.

“General,” said he, and was greeted with a kneel by a short, sturdy man. “Do inform on what just happened.” He held his chin high, whilst the general got to his feet and disarmed his electric stave.
“Another rebellion by the under-grounders, sire.” His face was flushed, his eyes nervous and shifty, “Third one this month.”
“Casualties and losses?”
“Yes, sire. Three have lost theirs lives. There are traders demanding that they have back their lost slaves, but I’m afraid they were taken into the hole-”
“Go after them.” ordered Larkin.
“We cannot, the hole has been collapsed. It is impossible to tell which way it came from, let alone follow it. If need be, we can dig it out, but that would take hours...”
“Never mind doing that. Send the unclaimed slaves to the Palace to be put in the dungeons. This one too,” Lark motioned toward the unconscious being at his feet, “Disarm them and bind them.” Might as well kill two birds with one stone. “See to it that none of them are seriously harmed. Separate the slaves from the under-grounders and then pay those who have lost slaves. Return the dead to their family, and pay them also.”

The General nodded once, took the boy under his arm and carried him away. Lark stroked his chin, then ran his fingers through his hair. He had better get back. They would see that their Master had been out in the streets, and what would the people think of him? A foolish and unwise governor. His lips curved into a wicked smile, and his slipped back on his cloak, pulling the hood over his head and walking away from the scene.

He went to the cafe, had his tea, and returned home.