"Names mean nothing," Carrick snapped. "I've had more names than you've had years on this earth, slave."
He kept his eyes locked on the boy's own until Samandriel was forced to drop his gaze. Carrick tried a different line of questioning. "Who is your Master? Another Arcadian? Did he teach you to speak my language?"
When the slave finally surrendered, Carrick nodded. He let his gaze sweep slowly over the boy from his tousled blond hair down over the bare skin of his arms and shoulders to the long, lean legs. Now that his initial shock was dying down, Carrick realised what he ordinarily would have seen before: the boy was beautiful... and so young.