Slave Trade - Lot 17
Slave Trade - Lot 17
copyright 2009 comidacomida
Sidney backpedaled quickly as a group of slavers passed him in the hallway. It had been scarcely a year since he himself had been at the mercy (or lack thereof) of the hyena pack that all but ruled the city's meat market. As a fox, and a relatively good looking one by any measure, it was not hard for them to find a buyer, but a year was nowhere near enough time for his anxiety to be kept in check.
He was owned, but that did not make him fear the slavers any less. Even though he wore a collar identifying him clearly as property of Lord Hector, there had been plenty of stories of owned slaves 'mysteriously disappearing' during outings to the market. As far as masters went, Lord Hector was more favorable than any Sidney had ever believed possible; he did not like the idea of becoming a commodity for trade when his current master was everything he could have prayed for.
"So... what've we got here?" the harsh, guttural voice spoke up as Sidney crept his way toward a metal slab that served as a desk in the deep recesses of the slave pit. A gnarled, gray-furred hyena glared down at the recoiling fox. The slaver's one good eye gazed piercingly at him, the other held behind a black eye-patch, which, judging by the long, jagged scar beneath it, probably hid an empty socket.
"M-my Lord Hector... h-h-he sends a purchase request... s-sir." the fox stuttered, barely able to refrain from peeing himself in the presence of the hyena. Sidney did not want to be anywhere near the slavers, but his master commanded it, thus the fox would do as he was commanded.
The hyena snatched the scroll from the fox's paw, and glanced over it, "Hmm... that's good money." he rolled the scroll up and slid it into an alcove behind the metal slab, "Alright, slave... go up to the bleachers, and take this with you." the hyena shoved a wooden paddle into his paws. The slaver offered no explanation as to what it was, but the black numbers on it were familiar enough to Sidney, who had been purchased by a representative of Lord Hector using one very much like it.
"Lord Hector's credit is good here... let's hope he approves of your purchase." the hyena slaver cackled as only hyenas could, and the sound sent a shiver up the fox's spine. Sidney quickly left the slave pit, a dull ball of coldness starting to form in the pit of his stomach. Far too many memories were resurfacing from his time within the pit, and he made his way out of it as quickly as possible, keeping one paw on his collar, courage bolstered just a little with the knowledge that, as Lord Hector's property, he would be safe... he hoped.
Emerging into the daylight once again, Sidney's heard finally began to slow. The panic that gripped him when he was surrounded by the darkness of the slave pit was seeping away, but it was replaced with a new, more immediate apprehension; he was walking to the bleachers for buyers. Sidney had been on the bleachers once before long ago. It had been his job to clean them for the slavers when he was new to their herd. Cleaning the bleachers and being on them with an auction about to begin was something different entirely, and he shirked away at the last moment.
"Hey! You there!" shouted a hyena from the side. Sidney yelped reflexively, tail tucking as he turned to regard the slaver moving to him.
"Y-yes, Ma'am?" he inquired of the hyena. Male hyenas were bad enough, but the females were larger, stronger, and much more brutal. He again worried that he would dampen his loincloth, barely able to restrain from piddling before her.
"That section of the bleachers is for free buyers... go sit your tail over with the rest of the runners." she grabbed him by the scruff and gave him a powerful shove to the right. Sidney quickly recovered from the push, avoiding a possibly dangerous stumble. Situated around the benches were various slaves, not unlike himself. Though some wore messenger clothing or house crests, most were just as shabby-looking and ill-adorned as he. Without any further encouragement, the fox moved to the smaller section of bleachers which, to his infinite relief, made him feel more at ease.
"New t' this side o' th' pits, are yeh?" came a call from behind him. Turning to look at the speaker, Sidney met the gaze of a ratty-furred badger.
"My master sent me to get a new house cleaner." Sidney explained, "His usual buyer is injured, so he sent me."
"Ahh..." the badger replied, peering a little closer at him. Although the older slave was adorned in more than just a loincloth, his clothes were shabby and probably almost as old as he. Sidney also saw the prominent collar on the badger's neck, the green and yellow markings on it identifying him as a slave of Lord Valhauss. The badger was likewise studying Sidney's collar, "Lord Hector, eh?" the badger inquired, "So yeer fillin in for Finneas, are yeh?"
Sidney nodded in confirmation, "My name is Sidney."
The badger responded with a humorless "Ha." and went on to note, "Yeer Lord is a good man, Sidney... not many Lords let their slaves keep a given name... though my Lord is a good man, and generous, he still chooses names for us all. If I were yeh, I'dn't go about tellin' everyone here yer name... might get some folks a lil jealous... an' yeh wouldn't that... believe me."
"Um... why?" Sidney was afraid to ask, but he almost felt compelled by the matter-of-fact nature with which the badger brought it up.
"Well... let's just say that Finneas wasn't one ta' keep his fool mouse-mouth shut." the badger sat back in his seat, effectively ending the conversation. Sidney turned back to look at the arena floor below them, not really sure he wanted it to continue anyway. He didn't have to concern himself with any uncomfortable silence, however, as the slave auction began at that moment.
Sidney sat uncomfortably on the bench as wave after wave of slave was brought out to be sold. It wasn't so much the hard wooden benches-- he'd had much worse in his lifetime. What caused the fox's disquiet was the eerie memories coming back to him, recalling the auction that he went through. At that time, however, he was down in the arena, not on the bleachers.
The fox's auction went far better than the slavers had planned. He was sold for three times more than the starting price, which was a very hefty sum, he was later informed. Sidney's first owner cared little for his true well-being, but was incredibly interested in his appearance. The hippo, Lord Bulhue, had purchased Sidney as a bedroom slave. It was Sidney's task to look good, smell good, be positively presentable in all ways... and do anything and EVERYTHING asked of him. Lord Bulhue had a LOT of demands.
During that time, Sidney had no name... he was merely referred to as 'fox' or, more often, as 'the toy'. His master tired of him after three months. By that time, Sidney was receiving constant treatment from Lord Bulhue's healer, and the hippo considered him to be 'not worth the upkeep'. Although Sidney learned many techniques for 'pleasing' his master, it was not enough, and Sidney was sold for less than a fourth of the price of his original purchase.
A depreciation of value was a sign of great shame for slaves. They had no personal belongings for themselves; their skills were expected of them, and with no notice of jobs well done or memorable appreciation from their masters, the one thing a slave could take pride in was his or her purchasing price. Sadly for Sidney, most slaves used for pleasure were worth the most new, and their value rapidly diminished once they were 'broken in'. Lord Hector, however, had not purchased Sidney as a bedroom slave.
Sidney let out a sigh, thinking fondly of his owner, a tall, proud elk of noble birth, and even nobler demeanor. Lord Hector had purchased the fox rather than have him sold off to one of Lord Bulhue's cousin's. Sidney later learned that the cousin was known for beating his slaves to death, a fact that made Sidney even more devoted to his new master. Lord Hector used his slaves' given names; the fox was smitten... though he wouldn't have dared admit it to anyone.
Any opportunity for a task, any change of duty or added responsibility was something that Sidney obediently and greedily jumped at. He wanted more than anything to prove his worth to Lord Hector, so that his master would never tire of him... never grow weary of him... never feel the need to cast him off or replace him. Sidney hoped beyond hope that one day, Lord Hector would take note of him... and be given the chance to practice the skills he learned at the impatient hands of his first master on someone who would really be worth pleasing. Until then, he served as one of the elk's house cleaners.
"And that's an end to the small breeds." the announcer's most unfortuitous declaration broke Sidney from his musings, and the icy clutch of utter dread gripped his heart. 'Small breeds' referred to any slave that would be suitable for house work and fine labor. Although Sidney himself was a 'mid breed', he was a fox, and foxes were considered interchangeable. He could only sit in mute terror as the announcer declared a progression to large breeds... and large breeds were always the last of the slaves to be shown.
Sidney was ready to start whimpering. His complete lack of focus was his undoing-- it was a common enough problem, but this time, he knew he was doomed. He had the opportunity to show Lord Hector that he was a valuable addition to anywhere the stag would have him fill in... but he blew it. He would have continued fretting and mentally castigating his lack of attention, but a commotion from the pit broke his train of thought. All of the other buyers in the bleachers were gazing down upon an extraordinary scene.
They were an audience for a display of insanity; one of the slaves had broken away from the podium, somehow having slipped his restraints, and had overpowered two of the slavers. It was a tall, broad-shouldered horse. The stallion was very well built, and somehow surprisingly unscarred compared to most of the large breed slaves on the block. He was dressed in only a loincloth, but could have easily passed for a knight with the way he presented himself against the slavers.
Sidney watched in rapt attention as the muscled horse grabbed hold of the end of one of the whips aimed at him, and pulled the attending slaver closer, delivering a powerful punch to the hyena's muzzle and sending the unfortunate guard reeling into unconsciousness. He didn't stop there, actually hefting up the prone hyena and throwing him at two of the others. The slave's strength was incredible, and the badger behind Sidney whispered to no one in particular, "He's gonna to take some of 'em with him, he is."
Some of the other buyers near Sidney had enough gall to start cheering the stallion on, but few retained the inclination when the slavers' gazes were turned upon them. All in all, the horse put up quite a fight; five slavers were taken down but, in the end, as expected, the horse was overcome. The female hyena Sidney recognized from the pit forced the horse to his knees, and brought her elbow across his muzzle in a sweeping arc, sending a mixed spray of saliva and blood into the air.
She backhanded the stallion twice more, but the slave's insubordinate gaze did not abate, and his ears remained back in a threatening expression. Even kneeling on the grass, beaten and restrained, the stallion was still an impressive creature. Sidney gazed to the hyena conducting the ceremony, who quickly spoke up, "Ladies and gentlemen, you have seen quite a display of strength and fortitude from lot 17. You can tell there is quite a spirit that will need to be dealt with, but none of you can deny what an excellent worker you will be purchasing. Shall we start the bidding at 10,000?"
Silence prevailed. Every last buyer around Sidney that had been cheering the horse on knew better than to purchase such a wild asset for their master. Every prospective buyer on the free-man's bleachers realized that the stallion would be worthless if he remained unbroken, but none were willing to spend that kind of capital to take that kind of a risk. No one bothered raising their paddle.
"Oh, surely SOMEONE in the audience can see the VALUE in such a fine specimen?" the hyena continued, "Who will pay over 8,000 for lot 17?" but his request was met again with silence. Sidney's eyes remained on the horse and the female hyena who was kneeling down next to him, teeth bared, likely growling threats and promises of pain to him for his disobedience. The stallion suddenly flexed his legs, and, lowering his muzzle, rewarded the female with a head butt.
The attack knocked her onto her back but, more than that, it knocked the wind from Sidney's lungs. He watched, aghast and amazed as the hyenas descended upon the horse with thin, flexible clubs, beating at him mercilessly. Sidney had taken a few blows from the slavers' sticks before. They were designed to cause maximum pain while limiting any long-term harm; the fox could barely watch as the stallion was forced back to his knees.
"Give us 5,000 for this stallion? He may serve well as a toiling steed. He could be used for field work. Perhaps you may find use for him as a stud-- he would assuredly produce many fine foals who may be well prepared for your fields from birth. 5,000 for lot 17?" the announcer's words were slowly losing their casual tone, and starting to take on a faint hint of a snarl. Sidney knew what would happen if they couldn't find a buyer for the stallion-- chances are that he wouldn't have another chance at being sold.
"Very well... no bid for lot 17? No buyer... going once..." the hyena scowled, "...twice..." the hyena paused, and looked at Sidney, then quickly spoke up, "Sold!"
Sidney looked disbelievingly at his paddle, which was held up in his numb, traitorous paw. His mind was awash with any number of punishments he would receive. Not only did he not find a house slave, but he purchased an unsafe, unruly, and unbroken horse. More than that, however, more prominent in his mind than anything else, were the icy, deep-blue gaze of the stallion's two eyes glaring at him.
The horse remained on his knees, breathing heavily as his body attempted to recover from the beating. Blood leaked from his nose and his long mane half-covered one side of his face, but it did nothing to dampen the severity of the gaze. The stallion remained on his knees, eyes locked onto Sidney's as if wordlessly saying "You have no idea what you just got yourself into." The fox was unable to disagree.
A hyena came to collect Sidney's paddle, "You can go down to the pen to pick up your package whenever ya want..." and he added with a chuckle, "Gods, I hope your master is the understanding sort." Sidney hoped so too.