On the way back to our cell a guard handed me a bundle which proved to come from Mellitha. It had obviously been opened but she’d put in enough bread and cheese to leave me a decent meal after the guards had taken what they wanted. That was the highlight of the day; my money had vanished from my pallet and, as the sun faded from the window, I found myself struggling to keep my spirits up. Despite all my efforts to distance myself from events I had no hope of controlling, I could not help feeling humiliated. It wasn’t the nakedness, the impersonal handling like a piece of merchandise. It was the way my mind had been invaded again.
Something had been done to me to make me lose my senses, to make me do something so out of character and worse it was something I couldn’t even remember. If I’d known who to blame, I could at least have been angry with them, but I couldn’t even be certain about that. Was it the Elietimm? If so, what were they trying to achieve? As I wondered, I began to worry about it happening again, despite all my determination to stay calm. Losing control like that, my wits lost in the shades, my body at the mercy of whoever might be passing, the danger of being robbed, even killed; I found myself shaking at the thought and with a real effort forced myself to drive it out of my mind.
Fighting sleep as the night darkened outside the bars, I tasted faint salt on the breeze, reminding me of home. How was I going to explain this to Messire? However I told the tale, I was going to look incompetent. I’ve never favored explanations for failing in a duty that begin “I couldn’t help it but…” and frustration welled up in me as I tried in vain to come up with something better. My pride was going to take a worse beating than my body when I had to make my report. My hopes of making the step from sworn man to chosen man would fall right down the privy, I realized gloomily.
I looked out at the stars. Livak was a girl who could count the beans in a handful; she wouldn’t blame me for what had happened but I still didn’t like the idea of looking such a masquerade fool in front of her. I cursed under my breath and sighed, looking in vain for the first glimmer of dawn lightening the sky. This would never have happened to me if those cursed wizards hadn’t dragged Messire into their half-witted schemes; I scowled into the darkness. Surely Shiv, Mellitha and Viltred could have come up with some way of getting me out of here? If you believed any of the ballads that kept minstrels fed, couldn’t wizards do things like walking themselves through walls, turning things invisible, sending guards to sleep? What were they doing while I was stuck in here, at risk of anything from a ramming up the arse to jail fever?
“There’s no more point in them magicking you away than there is in you finding a way to break out of here,” I told myself sternly. “Think sense, fool. The Watch would have the ferries tied up and be turning the city inside out before we’d gone around the chimes.”
I awoke with a sudden start to find guards busily rousting us all to our feet, herding us down the stairs to the courtyard where I saw manacles were to be clamped around our wrists, a chain threaded through to link us all together. The thought of being chained like a common criminal filled me with sudden rage. Without thinking, I pulled my hands away, cursing. A stinging slap from the guard split my lip. I reached for the bastard, only to be felled by a numbing blow to the meat of my thigh from the blunt end of a stave. The pain of that brought me to my senses. When I could stand, I gritted my teeth and submitted meekly to the fetters.
“Get yourself reined in, imbecile,” I rebuked myself.
“You’ll be out of here by the end of the morning and then you can go looking for the bastard who had you slung in here.”
That idea warmed my blood and I began to take more notice of what was happening, realizing too that the worst of the stiffness from the beating had passed, unnoticed, over those idle couple of days. I found myself behind the clerk as we were marched along a series of foul alleys, the guards laughing and joking, wagers being made as to who would fetch the best price. The sun was barely climbing above the ruddy tiled roofs and we were all glad to move briskly in the morning cool.
“No one knows what to make of you,” the clerk commented, looking back over his shoulder.
I shrugged. “They seem to think you’ll go for a decent weight of coin.”
The man smiled. “Yes, I should do, if the auctioneer gives me a chance to speak for myself. It did the trick last time.”
“You’ve been sold before?” I had no idea what usually happened to slaves and this seemed the ideal time to start learning.
“Twice,” he confirmed. “First owner died and we were all sold to clear his debts; second was only interested in getting a couple of season’s work for a deal with some Aldabreshi warlord.”
“So what happens to you now?”
“If I’m lucky, I’ll go to a decent merchant who’ll let me earn a coin or two at the back gate, so I’ll have something put by to keep me out of the gutter. It won’t be too much longer before I get too old to be worth my bed and bread and they set me free.” The skinny man’s face grew solemn.
The jingling column reached a broad market square with a high platform on one side. We were herded unceremoniously into a pen behind it; to my frustration, I could see none of the crowd. All I could hear was the noise and it sounded as if there was a good turn-out, eager to buy the servants, field workers and laborers who made up most of the early lots.
The sun was riding high in the sky by the time the sale reached the skilled men like myself and my companion. It was hot and airless in the slave pen and I shouldered my way forward eagerly when a lad with a bucket and ladle walked down the lines, dipping stale water into eagerly cupped hands.
“Come on.” A guard unchained the clerk and he stepped eagerly on to the platform.
“I am a clerk and bookkeeper, fluent in Tormalin, Caladhrian and the western Aldabreshi dialects. I am honest and accurate and I have worked in this city for fifteen years; you will get a loyal servant and the benefit of my knowledge and contacts. I know the bronze trade, shipping and exchange, the tax systems of every port from Col to Toremal and can advise on contracts drawn under either Soluran or Tormalin law codes.”
His confident voice rang back from tall buildings on the far side of the square. After a moment’s pause, bidding started briskly. He went for a thousand and five Crowns and judging by his smiles as he came down from the auction block, that was a good price.
My manacles were removed and I walked slowly up the steps, a hollow feeling in my stomach; I hoped swordsmen went for less than bookkeepers as I really didn’t want to be responsible for landing Messire with that kind of debt to a wizard.
The square below me was thronged with people, faces turned up and eager. I looked for Mellitha, fighting the threat of panic as I initially failed to find her. The auctioneer was rattling off something behind me but I ignored him, waiting desperately for the bidding to start so I could get a sight of Mellitha.
The first offer came from a burly man in dark brown and for one moment of complete confusion I thought it was Nyle. A second glance told me I was wrong but he was a similar type and I decided the heavy-set men standing behind him were swords for hire. How keen was he going to be to add me to his stable? For fifty Crowns, not very, it would appear.
Relief flooded me as I heard Mellitha’s clear tones ringing across the heads of the crowd to top the previous bid. She was almost hidden behind a group of giggling girls, who must have simply been there to ogle half-naked men. A hundred and fifty Crowns sounded like a fair opening offer.