“You seem to have a habit of crossing my path,” said Darian Athuk as he gazed at me. “First you were a kajirus, then you were an Outlaw. What are you today?”
“A slaver,” I said with some satisfaction. “We now share the same caste.”
“I’m supposed to believe that?”
“My papers.” There was probably a trace of smugness as I showed hm official papers stamped by the caste of Slavers in Corcyrus. The Tatrix had arranged these papers along with my papers of citizenship. It was an advance thank you for services rendered to her.
“Congratulations,” said Darian, drily, without any trace of real warmth or affection in his voice as he handed the papers back. “Should I expect you to be a Ubar the next time I see you?”
“One can only hope.”
We stood inside his marquee tent where private business was conducted away from the noise and the bustle of the Se’Kara Fair. Outside, a succession of silken beauties were being exhibited on the raised wooden platform and put through their paces by an experienced auctioneer. The slaves would make themselves available for a couple of ahn to be examined, fondled, and kissed by interested men before a scheduled auction would put them up for bidding. Exhibiting them each for a few ahn, and encouraging interactions with the public tended to increase the subsequent bidding – a strategy that most of the great slaver houses practised tonight. The wooden platforms were well lit by artfully tinted energy bulbs that gave the skin of the slaves an appealing glow.
“Caste brother,” I remarked, perhaps a trifle too warmly, opening my arms as if I wanted to hug Darian (which I didn’t).
“Why are you here?” came his less than welcoming response. He made no move to embrace me and offer me caste hospitality. One might almost think he suspected I hadn’t really earned my caste position.
“We have business to discuss. As you can see, I have two lovely captives. This is the pretty Dana.” I took hold of Dana’s collar and led her a few steps forward. And this is the lovely Nia.” I took hold of her collar, too, though felt a slight resistance as I did so. “Smile, lovely Nia.”
Nia didn’t smile. Instead, she proudly tossed her hair, gazed straight at the slaver from Talmont and said, “You know me, Darian, for I am Livinnia of the Assante, beloved companion of Stannis Assante, Lady of Turia, and Huntress of the Steppes. I apologise that you are seeing me in these unfortunate, reduced circumstances.” She wore a collar, was dressed in a slave tunic, and her face was made up with slave cosmetics. She also now wore a belled anklet locked about her left ankle that jingled softly each time she moved her foot. I thought it was a lovely touch. “It must be very awkward for you to see me like this.”
I didn’t actually think Darian Athuk felt very awkward at all. He seemed to be coping with the sight of the former huntress with calm and measured professionalism. He was in fact a credit to his caste. I felt like saying so, but he might think me patronising.
“Has she been branded?” asked Darian of me. He ignored Nia’s greeting for the moment, for there were important questions to settle first
“No. Not yet.”
“Have her ears been pierced?”
“Not yet.”
“Have formal papers of slavery been signed and documented?”
“Again, no, not yet.”
“Has she verbally, or through her actions, declared herself a slave?’
“No.”
“Livinnia,” said Darian, acknowledging her at last, but only after he had satisfied himself with the most pertinent questions foremost in his mind. She was still technically free it seemed, and so he could respond to her as he would do to a captive. Nia tried stepping forward, but with my fingers holding her collar she was brought up short.
“May I offer you a drink?” said Darian to me. I could see he was now intrigued by this unexpected turn of events.
“I’ll take a glass of ka-la-na, thank you. We have much to discuss.”
“I too will have a glass of ka-la-na,” said Nia as Darian turned away and walked to a side counter in his tent. I watched as Darian selected a goblet, then a decanter of rich red wine and poured that wine for me. He handed me the wine without acknowledging Nia’s request.
I think this troubled her. There was a jingle of slave bells as she fidgeted, annoyed by Darian’s dismissal of her.
“Delicious. May I enquire which city it comes from?” I asked.
“I have no idea,” said Darian, stiffly.
Now it was Dana’s turn to speak. She, too, stood there in a collar, off-white slave tunic that dressed and accentuated the tantalising curves of her body so delightfully, and she, too, now wore slave bells locked about her left ankle. “Darian, you have of course recognised me as well. I am the savage huntress, Danata. We have spoken many times when you visited our camp. Like my hunting sister, I have not proclaimed myself a slave. I am a captive, but I will soon be free.”
“Be quiet,” said Darian as he didn’t bother to even look at Dana.
The air in the tent now seemed rather more tense from the perspective of the two collared women. They glanced at one another, unsure why they weren’t being welcomed with sympathy and compassion. Nia watched as I sipped the red wine again. Where was her cup of wine?
“I do not offer a branding service,” said Darian.
Beside me I could feel both Nia and Dana stiffen. Why had he said that?
“I haven’t brought them here to be branded, Darian.”
“I am to be freed, Darian,” said Dana, interrupting us once again. “In the morning this collar will be removed from my throat and I will be free again. My captor does not intend to…”
“I said be quiet,” said Darian again. Dana didn’t seem to take this rebuke very well. I didn’t think Darian knew her as well as he knew Livinnia. He had probably seen her in the camp, and had possibly exchanged some polite courtesies with her from time to time, but nothing more than that. I recalled from our first meeting when I had been the Lady Savanna’s obedient silk slave that Darian didn’t really care for the company of Free Women very much. He found them irritating at best and often struggled to pretend to be polite in their presence.
“How is the gentle Lady Kelapina?” I asked, referring to the female slaver of the House of Diamandes in Argentum; a woman who was most certainly anything but gentle with her slave stock. “Well, I hope?”
“I imagine so,” said Darian. “Business has been good for all the cities hereabouts. All ships rise with the tide, as the saying goes.”
“War brings many women to the collar,” I suggested.
“It does that.”
“I am to be ransomed,” said Nia as she stepped forward, tossing her hair arrogantly once again. I had released my grip on her collar when I had taken the glass of wine, and now she was free to move about the inner tent, though accompanied by a delightful jingle of slave bells with each step she took.
“Your captor will be a rich man,” said Darian, now gazing again at the lovely Nia. His face was as expressionless as ever.
“Not just my captor, but the man who buys me.”
“You are for sale?” The thought amused Darian.
“I am,” said Nia. “I am for sale.”
“I only buy slaves,” said Darian.
“I am being kept under slave discipline,” said Nia with distaste. “This accounts for this scandalous garment I am forced to wear.”
“You may remove it if you wish,” I suggested. “Your nudity does not bother me, Nia.”
Again, Nia shook her head angrily. “The bells, the collar… the cosmetics I have been forced to apply to my lips, my eyes, my features…”
“I have noticed them all,” said Darian.
“I am therefore for sale. My captor will accept a fraction of my true ransom as he understandably fears dealing directly with my beloved Stannis Assante. The slaver who buys me can collect the full ransom and the gratitude of my companion.”
“Slaves have no companions,” said Darian.
“I am not a slave,” said Nia.
“I only buy slaves,” reminded Darian. “It is a caste rule. I cannot buy a Free Woman.” It was an interesting restriction within our codes. Darian could of course enslave a Free Woman but he could not buy a Free Woman.
“This is absurd,” said Nia. “Simply pay my captor a reasonable sum, and he will leave me in your care. We are talking about a lot of money, Darian. You know me. We have met many times.”
“Yes we have,” said Darian.
“I suggested to my captor that he sells me to you for half the expected ransom. You will then profit from the second half of the ransom.”
“Nevertheless, my caste insists that I cannot purchase a Free Woman.”
“Our caste rules are very strict on the matter,” I agreed, speaking now to both of them, “but I think I can see a way round this. I simply enslave Nia – for the time being, anyway – just long enough to sell her to you. You can then buy her, according to caste rules, and can then free her, in order to collect the sizeable ransom.” I could tell from her immediate reaction that Nia wasn’t particularly happy with this strategy, for it meant she would legally be a slave for ten ihn or so before being freed again.
“Is there no other way?” asked Nia. “Your suggestion would require me to be a slave for the time it takes to arrange the sale.”
“Can you think of another way?” I replied. “He cannot buy you while you are a Free Woman. The codes are quite straight forward on the matter. Only slaves can be bought and sold. Ultimately, Nia, you have to decide how important it is to you to be ransomed back to Stannis Assante. If you prefer, you can remain my captive for these last few hours, we can simply walk away from here and I will have you branded in the morning when we reach Torcadino.”
“Very well,” said Nia. “But be quick. This will be humiliating enough without further delays.”
“It is not quite so simple,” said Darian, though I sensed he was warm to the general principle. “This is the Fair of Se’Kara. Free Women cannot be forcibly enslaved here. They are protected by merchant law during the duration of the Fair.”
“Well, this can’t wait until the Fair closes,” I said. “That’s not for a few days. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” I also wanted the money now so I could buy Kelly before someone else might. A sale in a week’s time might be too late the way my luck tended to desert me.
“I could enslave myself?” said Nia, afraid that the window by which she might be ransomed was swiftly closing. “Merchant law at the Fair doesn’t prohibit that, does it?”
“Very clever,” said Darian with a smile. “You are clearly an intelligent woman, Livinnia.”
“Thank you, Darian,” said Nia. “There is always a solution to every problem.” She considered this for a moment. “How do I…”
“You simply speak the relevant words. Declare yourself a slave. At that very moment you become a slave.”
“I see. It is that simple?”
“Yes,” said Darian. He gazed at her legs. They were very pretty legs. “It is that simple.”
“Very well.” She tossed her hair again. “I feel very foolish. This will be humiliating for me.”
“I understand,” said Darian.
“I am not really a slave, of course.” She addressed the room in general. “I want that to be clear to all.” Darian didn’t bother to reply. “I am Livinnia Assante of Turia. I hunt men.” Darian still didn’t grant her remarks the benefit of a reply. “I am not like the soft perfumed things you routinely collar. I am strong, I am fierce. I am a huntress.” Still there was silence from us as Nia spoke. “This will be a pretence of sorts, simply to get round the bureaucratic restrictions of your caste. I do this simply so you can buy me.”
“In your own time,” I said to Nia. Darian patently wasn’t going to comment.
“La Kajira,” said Nia. And just like that she was no longer free.
“Well?” Said Nia. “What now?”
“What will you offer me, Darian?” I asked.
“In good time,” said Darian as he moved to where he kept certain papers. “We must proceed according to mercantile law. Before I can buy this slave, her papers must be in order.” He picked up some parchments.
“What?” Nia seemed irritated by the delay.
“I must complete your slave papers and have them signed and witnessed,” said Darian. “My caste has rules.”
“This is intolerable. What is the point if you are simply going to free me as soon as you buy me?”
“The point is we have rules,” said Darian again. He seemed annoyed with her outburst. “And you refer to me as Master when you speak.”
“Very well.” She shook her hair again in annoyance. “Master, if that will make you happy.”
“You refer to all men as Master,” I said to her, “and Free Women as Mistress. That means Dana, here.”
She paled a little, hearing that. “This is stupid. I am only ging to be a slave for a few ihn.”
Darian smiled as he began recording her details. Some of them he could fill out simply by looking at her, but then he had to begin taking measurements. For this she was told to strip herself. There was an air of indignation as Nia removed her slave tunic with another jingle of slave bells. She actually stripped herself quickly because I suspect she didn’t want to make it into a drawn out performance that might seem arousing to us. Unfortunately for her, the subsequent sight of her naked body was arousing enough. I watched as she discarded the tunic, tossing it with irritation to the far side of the marquee tent. The bells on her left ankle jingled as she moved.
“Pick up the garment, fold it, and place it on the side table,” said Darian.
There was another sound of the slave bells as Nia walked a few paces, bent down and retrieved the rep cloth tunic. While Darian watched, she folded the tunic neatly and placed it on the side table before returning to the centre of the tent.
“Now that’s a slave body, don’t you think, Dana?” I asked my other girl.
“Is she really now a slave?” asked Dana. She couldn’t take her eyes off the former huntress. “She can’t take back the words she spoke?”
“Rest assured you are now the only Free Woman in this tent. She is a slave until a man frees her.”
Darian approached and set about measuring her height, weight, breast size, hip size, waist size, measured the length of her toes, and fingers, and many other things between. His hands explored her body much to Nia’s dismay. He even measured and accounted for the shape of her nose and earlobes and examined her teeth as he pulled her head back by her hair. The process was thorough and took perhaps thirty ihn. All this time Nia was legally a slave.
“You were rough,” gasped Nia as she was finally released.
“I was professional, as I always am with livestock,” said Darian. He made further notes on the papers. “You are now formally documented as Nia, a slave who was once Lady Livinnia Assante, once of Turia, then affiliated with Argentum.” Darian gave me the forms to sign, explaining that I was the captor that she submitted to, and one of his men – a scribe - briefly entered the tent to officially witness my signature, though I was unable to read anything he’d written. There were two copies of the papers produced. The master copy would be filed with the Cylinder of Records. The second copy would be mine to keep, as I now owned Nia.
“Why did you record my real name?” said Nia. She crossed her arms over her breasts.
“Your real name is Nia,” he said, glancing up from the papers.
“My real name is Livinnia,” she said, “but there was no need to record it on the papers. What if someone reads them? They would know Livinnia Assante had briefly been a slave! That would be humiliating if it were made public.”
“Do not concern yourself with the woman named Livinnia Asante. She is not you. She no longer exists,” said Darian as he passed the a set of the papers to me for safekeeping. I placed them in a pouch at my belt and marvelled that I now legally owned the former huntress.
“She will exist when you free her,” said Nia, stamping her foot in anger.
“I cannot free Livinnia because she no longer exists. And I cannot free a slave called Nia for I do not own her,” said Darian. “Your Master is Roland Martell of Corcyrus. This fact is clearly indicated in your slave papers, as is the fact you submitted freely of your own will according to Torcadino law and enslaved yourself. Besides, even if you were freed, you would not as such be Livinnia Assante. You would be a freed slave who then chose to call herself Livinnia Assante. That is how mercantile law views the matter. You could not possibly be the same person.”
“That is absurd. I don’t understand any of this.”
“It is quite simple, girl. Livinnia Assante no longer exists,” said Darian, patiently. “She never will exist again. She is gone. Were your Master to free you, you would simply be a freed slave who has chosen for herself a name once held by a huntress of Turia. You would not be the same person. For example, all property rights and contracts pertaining to Livinnia would not relate to a freed slave who chose to mimic her name. You would emerge from your slavery penniless, with no pre-determined home or contractual rights.”
“Contracts…” said Nia. A thought had obviously crossed her mind.
“A contract of Free Companionship, for example. A slave cannot be companioned. That must be clear to you?”
Nia trembled. “I have a companion…”
“Don’t be absurd. You are a slave. Slaves are owned, they are not companioned. The companionship between Livinnia and Stannis is ended. Surely that is obvious?”
“It… it will be an irrelevance if no one knows I was a slave. If Stannis doesn’t know I was a slave.”
“A copy of your slave papers must be filed with the central cylinders of Torcadino according to law. Anyone who chooses to can inspect them. They are a matter now of public record. Your slavery will be on record for perpetuity. They are therefore never an irrelevance. Should you be freed, you will be issued with new papers that clearly record you as a slave called Nia who has been granted freedom by her Master. Those will be your papers going forwards. You are either a slave called Nia, or a former slave who was called Nia.”
“I have papers!”
“And where are the master copies filed?”
“Argentum! They are held in the Cylinder of Records in Argentum.”
“And when my caste receive these slave papers in Torcadino, they will notify the Cylinder of Records in Argentum and other major cities, so that the master papers pertaining to Livinnia Assante can be updated to record she was enslaved on this day within the jurisdiction of Torcadino. The papers will then be null and void. New papers pertaining to the slave Nia will be filed beside them.”
“NO!” Nia really didn’t like hearing this. All this was becoming far more complex than she had expected. “I want this over with. I want this over with now! If the paperwork is concluded, and I am now technically a slave, then I can be sold to you?” Nia seemed anxious to conclude the transaction as quickly as possible.
“We are not yet finished, girl,” said Darian. “There are formalities still to attend to. Within this Fair, we are subject to Torcadino merchant law. There is a requirement in Torcadino for slave houses to administer slave wine to the slaves they buy if there is no available documentation to confirm they have already been given slave wine. I have been given no documentation to suggest you may already have had slave wine.”
“There is no need to give me slave wine!”
“It is the law in Torcadino,” said Darian. “We must observe the law.”
“This is ridiculous!” Nia watched with dismay as Darian now collected a bottle that presumably contained slave wine, and prepared a single dosage in a small cup.
“At least sweeten it,” asked Nia.
“The House of Athuk does not offer sweetened slave wine,” said Darian as he held the cup towards Nia.
“I’m not drinking that!” said Nia. Darian placed the cup back down on the counter. He then seized Nia by her hair and dragged her to a rack that stood at the far side of the tent. It was x-shaped and had wrist and ankle restraints at the end of each bar. The rack was tilted at an angle, so that a slave’s had would be raised higher than her feet, rather than her being held strictly horizontal or vertical.
“Let me go!” screamed Nia. Once again she seemed astonished that she wasn’t strong enough to break free of a man’s grasp. She struggled, screamed and fought to the best of her ability but Darian had once been a Tarnsman of Talmont and he easily secured Nia’s wrists and ankles on the x-shaped rack, shutting each clasp in turn. He waited patiently for a few ihn for Nia to calm down. He watched as she struggled futilely. “What is this?! What are you doing?!” cried the girl.
“I am preparing to administer slave wine to a slave in accordance with the local law,” said Darian. There were two vice like tools attached to the rack – one was situated to hold the left thigh of a slave ready for branding, but it was the second vice device that was used now to secure Nia’s head firmly in place so that she couldn’t move it. I watched Nia struggle hard against her wrist and ankle restraints as Darian then produced a rubber plug that he inserted into Nia’s mouth between her teeth, pressing it firmly into place. This forced her jaw open and the side straps on the plug were then tied about her head. A rubber hose was then pushed through a narrow hole in the rubber plug and into her mouth. All the while she struggled and squirmed and moaned into this gag like device. Darian place a funnel at the open end of the tube which now pointed to the back of her throat. Nia thrashed about wildly as Darian slowly poured the bitter and acerbic slave wine into the funnel. The slave wine dribbled down the tube, into the slave’s mouth and down to the back of her throat. Darian then pinched the girl’s nostrils shut. She whimpered and moaned through the rubber gag. Her mouth was now full of the disgusting slave wine. She looked pitiful. Eventually she had to swallow, and down went the slave wine straight to her stomach.
“I will now record that slave wine has been administered,” said Darian, leaving her for the moment secured to the x-rack, though he loosened the vice so that her head was now able to move again. He took his time doing so before he returned and began to remove the apparatus.
“I hate you!” sobbed Nia as the tube and rubber plug was withdrawn from her mouth and she was able to speak again. She coughed and choked for a moment.
“Surely you understand the importance of giving slave wine to a slave?” said Darian without any concern for her feelings.
“Free me!” cried Nia. She struggled again with her wrists and ankles. “Why am I still on this rack?!”
“Why indeed,” said Darian.
Nia’s frantic struggling subsided after another three to four ihn. Now she lay there against the x-shaped rack, clearly exhausted. Her arms and legs were outstretched from her body and she was completely helpless.
“Will you now buy me?” she said to Darian. Darian simply looked at her and waited.
“Master,” said Nia. “Will you buy me, Master?”
“A slave begs to be bought?” enquired Darian.
“Yes!” She wriggled again. “I do!”
“Then say so, as a slave does.”
“The slave Nia begs to be purchased, Master. She begs your chains.”
“I see.” Darian now turned to me. “Is this girl for sale?”
At long fucking last. “Yes she is,” I said. “I have her papers here.”
“Good, that will speed things up,” said Darian as he took them and made a show of reading them, even though he himself had filled them out just now. The further delay wasn’t lost on Nia as she lay there and scowled.
“You know what the papers say!” she cried.
Darian ignored her. “I see you have a former Free Woman of Turia,” he remarked, as if this was news to him. “Citizenship papers lodged with Argentum, and she submitted to slavery in front of witnesses. Her measurements are of interest.”
Nia struggled again, her rage mounting.
“Not branded, I see?”
“No, not branded. She has only recently been enslaved,” I said, humouring his pretence in all of this. “The papers are all quite legal.”
“As I can see. I will have to assess her, of course.”
“WHAT?!” Nia began struggling again, but the rack held her well.
“Assess her?” I said.
“For slave responses. I am required to do so by my caste. It is in the codes.”
“NO!” cried Nia. She had suddenly found the strength to struggle furiously once more.
“I see. And how will you do this?”
“There is such a thing as the Slaver’s caress,” he remarked. “The slave is already bound, which makes the exercise simpler.”
“NO! NO! NO! DON’T YOU DARE!”
Darian approached her and stood between her spread thighs where her sex was open and ready for his touch.
“NO! PLEASE, NO!”
“I am legally obliged to do this,” said Darian as he began to stroke and caress her body – a prelude to touching her more intimately. It is very, very hard for a woman to resist the slaver’s caress, even more so if she is tightly restrained before it is done to her. One of the reasons experienced slaves struggle against their bondage is because it always heightens the intensity of their orgasm and makes them juice quicker. I have never met a slave who didn’t relish being tied up in some way before she is put to use. It is something of an eye opening experience for girls new to the collar. I didn’t think that Nia had much chance of remaining calm, chained to the rack as she was. Darian probably took a little longer than he normally would with a slave. I suppose Nia was something of a special case. He spent ten ihn bringing her body to a simmering point before then turning his attention finally to the soft, wet space between her legs. Nia knew she had lost before he even touched her.
“Oils exceptionally well,” remarked Darian as he began to caress her sex. She pushed herself up as far as she might go from the rack, her body bending in a bow shape, crying out as Darian’s fingers slipped inside her. “Reacts spontaneously to an intimate touch once aroused. Strong sexual responses.” Now Nia writhed back and forth as Darian continued to stimulate her with his wet fingers sliding inside her sex. When Nia came with her first ever slave orgasm she would have been heard across the open field outside. “I have seen this before in Turian women,” remarked Darian as he wiped his fingers dry in her long hair. “The responses of a heated Turian girl sometimes come close to those of a Fire Crotch.”
“That strong?” I said.
Darian nodded. “One day I will find a Turian Fire Crotch, and then the real records will be broken.”
Nia lay gasping on her back, her fingers opening and closing uncontrollably as she felt the orgasm wash through her body. “Easy to stimulate, quick to respond, and powerful in her responses. She is of interest,” concluded Darian.
But for ransom, yes? I thought to myself. I suddenly realised I hadn’t asked Nia what her ransom was likely to be. I only knew I could expect a lot of money. Whatever figure it was I had to pitch roughly half to Darian. The other half would be his profit.
I decided to start with a high figure. “Ten gold,” I said.
Darian laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“She is Turian, yes, but she is untrained. Even if she were a fully trained pleasure slave of the highest degree, ten gold is clearly ridiculous.”
“But we’re talking of a ransom here?”
“What ransom?” asked Darian.
“Stannis Assante will easily pay twenty gold for her.”
Darian laughed again. “I assure you Stannis Asante does not pay twenty gold for a slave.”
“For his companion, Livinnia.”
“He has no companion. There is no such woman as Livinnia.”
I sensed Nia, still fastened to the rack, feeling her blood turn cold in her veins. What was happening?
“This girl…” I pointed to her bound form.
“Your slave, Nia, yes?”
“Is Livinnia….”
“No, she is a slave called Nia. Whoever she once was is irrelevant now. That person doesn’t exist any longer. Her value is merely that of an untrained slave girl.”
“NO! NO!” Nia began struggling again.
“What are you saying?” I said.
“I can offer you ten copper tarsks, and we can bargain from that point. She responds well to my touch, but many slaves do. I have to consider the cost of training her and what I will eventually receive for her in a market that has seen a lot of new slaves ascending the block of late.”
“You said you wanted to buy her.”
“Yes, I do. She is good slave stock. My opening offer is ten copper tarsks.”
I looked at Nia. She was legally a slave now. She had enslaved herself.
“You lied to me,” I said to Darian.
“I did not lie to you.”
How was I going to be able to buy Kelly Milford now? Ten copper tarsks or a hundred copper tarsks, it made no discernible difference towards the price I might have to pay to buy Kelly.
Nia was growing hysterical as she lay secured to the rack. She was now a slave. She had enslaved herself, and a slaver was offering a meagre ten copper tarsks for her. There would be no ransom.
“This is madness. You could earn ten gold! We both could!”
“Only a fool frees a slave,” said Darian as he looked at me. “I am many things, but I am not a fool.”
“Is this some sort of revenge? Did Livinnia once insult you? Is that what this is?” I couldn’t believe he was throwing away ten gold coins or more.
“On the contrary, I have no ill feelings towards Livinnia of the Assante. You don’t understand, do you?”
“No, no I don’t. What is this?”
“A natural slave belongs in a collar. It is in our codes. I would be breaking my codes as a slaver – a serious offence - if I freed a natural slave. It is a kindness I show her now. She belongs in a collar. She was never happy when she was a huntress. Her rage, her cruelty, her arrogance towards men, all these things were symptoms of her inner frustration at not being mastered. An experienced slaver can recognise these traits in a woman. Tonight simply confirmed my prior suspicions. She hated men because they would not collar her.”
“NO! That is NOT true!” cried Nia.
“Your body does not lie to me, kajira,” said Darian.
“You’re doing this as a… kindness?!” I said.
“I am. Occasionally I am sentimental like that. Do not tell others. My reputation…” He smiled just a little.
“But she is worth ten gold to you,” I said.
“I forsake profit for her future happiness. I give her that now. As I said, she is known to me. I wish her to be happy. Do you wish to sell her to me for ten copper tarsks? My offer stands. You will not find a better one at this Fair. The market is awash with new slaves at the moment. Prices are low.”
“FREE ME!” begged Nia.
“Only a slave begs to be freed,” said Darian.
“We should go,” said Dana. She seemed frightened by all of this. She wanted to leave the marquee tent before anything else might happen. “Nia may be a slave but she is your property. You don’t have to sell her,” she said to me.
And I wasn’t going to. Out of principle if anything else. Not for ten fucking copper tarsks. Even I cost more than that back in Argentum. “Release my slave,” I said. “I’m taking her with me.”
Darian nodded and motioned for one of his men to release Nia from the assessment rack. “I suggest you have your new slave branded sooner rather than later,” said Darian as I readied to leave. “The law that you broke in Argentum also applies in Torcadino. You would be wise not to fall foul of it a second time.”
“I’ll take it into consideration,” I said. I clipped a leash onto Nia’s collar and braceleted her hands behind her back. She was crying now.
“Five silver tarsks,” said Darian as he turned his back. I could see he had waited to say those words.
“That’s quite an increase on your opening offer,” I said, pausing beside the flap of the tent.
“No, for the other woman in your coffle.”
I felt Dana stiffen in fright, and felt her move closer to me for reassurance.
“You’re offering five silvers for Dana?” I didn’t understand.
“I am.”
“I thought you couldn’t buy a Free Woman at the Fair?” I said.
“I am not asking to buy her. You captured her away from here. She is a legal capture. I am asking for you to release her into my care. I will pay you five silver tarsks to do so.”
“Why? You intend freeing her? What is she to you?”
“The Fair concludes in two days,” said Darian. “The protection accorded to Free Women ends then.”
“No!” screamed Dana. She turned to me. “You said you would release me!”
“He will release you,” said Darian. “He will release you into my care. You will be my captive for the next two days.”
“And then you will free me?”
Darian chose to ignore her direct question. “I do remember you, Danata, and I have desired you for some time.”
“NO!” Dana backed away, at least until I reached out and grasped her collar. I drew her back and swiftly locked her wrists behind her back in slave bracelets. “NO!” she screamed again. “YOU SAID YOU WOULD FREE ME!”
So Darian had lusted for Danata. And now here she was standing before him in a collar and a slave tunic. “Ten silver tarsks,” I said.
“NO! NO! NO!” screamed Dana. “NO!”
“Done,” said Darian. He paid me the money and I left with Nia, her wrists now braceleted behind her back, trailing behind me on her leash. I didn’t look back at Dana. When I reached Torcadino tomorrow I would do so with ten silver tarsks in my pouch. I would seek out Rubin Clegane and I would buy the lovely Kelly Milford and keep her as my slave. And then all this would finally be over.
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