Slaves Own Nothing

He noticed her right away. The girl was chained with several other slaves behind the slaver's wagon. The platform in the square had been busy all day with slavers showing their slaves and the bidding had been intense. This particular slaver had pulled his wagon to the side and was ordering his girls to strip and wash.

He watched the girls and noticed that she had been silent during the bathing while the other girls had laughed and preened. They hoped they would be sold today to a good Master, the life of a slave on the road was difficult and if they weren't sold here today they might be sold in one of the small towns bordering the desert where life was even harder.

She had bathed herself with care and held her head up high, but refused to make eye contact with any of the men watching. He smiled; the girl had been somebody important in her own mind he suspected. The chains of the slaver had not taken that aloof and privileged air from her, but he knew that the whip would. She was quite beautiful, her body was perfect and he knew the girl was destined to be kajira.

He approached the slaver and drew him to the side, watching the girl out of the corner of his eye. He noticed how the other girls flashed their eyes and moved seductively while she tried to withdraw into the shadow of the wagon. When he looked at the other girls they dropped their eyes and peeked at him from beneath their lashes, while she looked directly back at him.

The slaver told him that the girl had been the daughter of a very rich merchant in one of the cities that bordered the seas. Her father's business had failed due to storms and pirates and he and his family had been cast out of their home to live in the street. Of course, the girl had been spotted right away by slavers and this one felt that she would be a magnificent kajira if only she had the right Master. The man smiled at the zeal of the slaver, he thought to himself that if she were such a prize she would have already been sold.

She had been spoiled, had been treated almost like royalty by her family and was privileged beyond the experience of most women. She had learned to scribe and was proficient in the arts and music, but had never danced. The slaver suspected she thought it was beneath her and smiled when the man told him that the only thing beneath a slave was the dirt she would lay in if she didn't learn.

He walked towards the girls and inspected them, the more brazen spinning and titillating, the more experienced trying to be seductive yet sophisticated. She watched the man and as he approached her she turned her back to him as if fastening the silks she had donned after bathing.

A growl issued from his lips, he was not used to girls turning their backs on him. His hand snaked out quickly and grabbed her hair yanking her back around to him. His eyes swept over her coolly and his gaze obviously touched something inside her as evidenced by the blush that crept into her face.

"You need to learn some respect slave," he said. "I'm tempted to be the one to teach you, but perhaps you need to be sold as a kitchen or stable slave."

She looked at him with fire in her eye, "I will never be a slave."

He laughed loudly and then growled at her, "but you are already. And remember girl ... a slave decides nothing, a slave has no power, and a slave owns nothing, not even your name."

He turned and walked away, the slaver would be showing the girls soon and he wanted to watch her reaction.

The girls of this particular slaver were well trained and expressive, girl after girl was purchased and led off by a smiling Master or another slave trained to spot quality girls. The man watched and bided his time. Soon enough, the girl was led to the stand, she stood there eyes angry and biting, mouth tight and quivering, body taut and appearing as if she were ready to leap into the crowd and flee.

The bidding began, slowly at first as the Masters all watched her body and made up their mind if they were willing to take on a girl with so much fury. As the bidding war heated up the man noticed two Masters who seemed to be in competition for the girl. One was a stranger from the East, the other a brutish man from town who looked at the girl like a piece of meat. The man was sure that the brute had no appetite for grace and bearing and was looking for a pleasure slave to use and break and then resell her for whatever he could get.

Finally there were just the two left, the girl was going to fetch a good price and the slaver was grinning from ear to ear. The brute bid an extraordinary amount and the other Master stepped aside, he was through. The slaver looked around the crowd and began to prepare the girl's chains for removal and transfer when the man stepped from the shadows.

"Is a slave worth so much? She must be an amazing dancer or exceptionally skilled as a pleasure kajira to be worth so bold a price. I for one have not even seen her charms, since when does a slave bring that kind of fortune without even viewing her?"

The slaver looked up confused, his eyes darting back and forth between the brute and the man from the shadows. He could take the price offered by the first Master or he could try to find out what the man who was now slowly moving through the crowd to the stand had in mind.

"Strip her," the man growled. "I have need of a slave, but I am not going to bid on a girl that I haven't seen all of."

The girl cringed, her haughty exterior dimmed for a second by embarrassment then she lifted her head and laughed a long clear laugh as the slaver stripped her. The crowd went totally silent and some of the slaves blanched at her daring, but the brute laughed louder and pushed to the front of the crowd.

"I'm going to enjoy breaking you girl," he spat.

She glared at him and said, "No man can break me, I am valerie of the house of Wilds and I am not a slave, nor will I be."

The man from the shadows smiled, she was magnificent. He knew that the taunt she had thrown out would restart the bidding, especially once she had been bared to the crowd.

He raised his hand once; the slaver saw it and nodded. "We have a new bid; the price on the girl has gone up."

The brute turned around and stared at the stranger, a scowl on his face. Then turning back to the slaver he raised the bid a ridiculous amount. The crowd gasped, they had never seen a girl fetch such a price, especially when she had shown such disrespect. The brute smiled and glanced back at the stranger who had apparently disappeared. In moments the girl was his and he smiled and laughed loudly as he took her chains and fastened a leash to her collar.

The girl wept, she had been sold. She couldn't believe her life had changed so much, and the Master who had purchased her was an animal. He smelled, he looked at her like dinner and his hands roved over her nakedness as he turned her over to his house slaves to prepare her.

The girl was led off to the house of the brute Master who stepped over to a paga lodge and shared a few cups with other Masters who had been at the auction today. He boasted about the beauty he had purchased, but inside it gnawed at him that he had overpaid for her. He thought about the man from the shadows who had forced the price up and his face twisted in anger. He'd like to catch that sleen and show him a thing or two.

The man sat in the back of the paga lodge, watching the events as they uncoiled. He reasoned that if the man continued to drink like that he would be unable to use the girl he had just bought and the thought brought a smile to his face.

Finally after a couple of hours the brute staggered out of the lodge and headed down the streets toward his home, he never noticed the silent figure that slipped from shadow to shadow behind him.

The brute entered his house and roared to his slaves, "bring me more paga, oh ... and that new girl too. It's time she learned a Master's touch."

He staggered up the stairs, found his room and pulled a leash from the wall as well as a kurt. A smile broke over his face as he hoped she would still be feisty and need some vicious taming.

The girl had been prepared for the Master against her will, she'd been forced to bathe again, dunked repeatedly by the house slaves who laughed and sneered at her attitude and told that the Master was a vicious sort who liked nothing more than to hurt his girls and make them beg for relief. A soft tear slithered down from her eye at the thought of the pig touching her, but she was shackled and collared and naked, she would taste his fury without question. For just a second, she found herself thinking about the man from the shadows who had spoken with her at the block, he had been tall and handsome. A cruel looking man, yet there had been something in his eyes that spoke of dignity and strength.

The brute was getting impatient, he opened the door to his chambers and yelled down the stairs, bring that little she sleen up here, I'm tired and I don't have all night. As he turned, the shadow moved out from behind the drapery in his room, pulled the curtain from the wall and threw it over his head. Quickly the brute was bound and tied in the curtain, unable to see and thrown on the floor like a rug.

A voice, muffled by the drape, spoke, "she's a beautiful girl that you've bought. I think that she will require more strength and patience than you'll ever have you dog and so, with your leave I'll be relieving you of the burden."

The brute felt the sharp tip of a sword against his throat even through the drapery, fear filled him and he pissed himself at the thought of dying blind with no chance to defend himself. The voice had been so matter of fact, he had no doubt that the man who uttered the words would slice his throat and take the girl anyway that he found himself stammering, "s s s she's yours you bastard. Take her; she's more trouble than she's worth anyway."

The man laughed, "you're the one who prized her so highly, how could you expect a Rogue to watch a girl go for that price and not want to taste the wares himself?"

At that moment, the girl arrived with the house slaves. She was dressed in white silks, the harsh leather collar on her neck the only color except for the manacle on her ankle.

The man winked at the house slave, and took the chain leash from him. He raised his hand to His lips in a signal to be quiet and then pointed to the man wrapped in cloth on the floor. The house guard's eyes went wide and then when he realized who must be wrapped up he giggled, but said nothing.

The man threw the girl over his shoulder and stormed down the steps to the stables, picking a strong fine kaiila to ride he threw the girl across the front of the saddle and broke out into the streets at a gallop. Soon there was nothing but a cloud of dust settling behind them as he pointed the kaiila to the mountains and raced through the town. He'd better get out into the wilderness before the alarm was raised, some Masters didn't take kindly to having their slaves stolen from under them. A massive grin split his handsome face as they rode into the woods and disappeared into the shadowed night.

The girl had screamed when he took her, but rode thrown across the back of the kaiila quietly. It wasn't a pleasant ride, the stride of the beast was rough and branches and rocks tore at her as they fought their way deeper into the forest. Eventually the man stopped and tied the kaiila to a tree, lifted the girl from the back of the beast and started to prepare a campsite. After a very brief time he looked up at the girl quizzically, then roared "are you just going to stand there girl? Get busy, prepare my bed and find firewood, you still have dinner to cook."

The girl stared at him as if he were crazy. "I'm sorry Sir, but I don't prepare beds or cook, and I certainly am not going in search of dirty pieces of wood," then she went quiet and turned slightly away.

The man stood up quietly, his entire demeanor taut and dangerous now, no longer a man who had been brazen enough to steal her, but a man who was obviously a Master and used to things the way he stated them. He moved as fast as a cat grabbing her hair and throwing her to the ground, his hand snaking to his belt and pulling two cords free which were soon wrapped around her ankles and wrists. He then left her to grovel tied in the dirt while he nonchalantly finished building a fire and pulling out a small beast he had trapped along the way. He gutted the creature, throwing the entrails toward the girl where they would lay in her vision, bloodied and hacked.

Soon the smell of roasting meat filled the air, the man laid down his bedding and pulled out a skin of paga, whereupon he sat in front of the fire and devoured pieces of meat as they finished cooking on the fire.

The girl watched him, her stomach suddenly churning with hunger as the smell heightened her senses. She whimpered, and rolled and tried every way she could to get loose, but he had tied her tightly and never even looked over to her. She wailed out loud finally, "it hurts, please let me up Sir; I can't believe how you are treating me."

That caught his attention, he turned slowly to her, chewing a succulent piece of meat ... the juices dripping down his chin and just laughed. "How I'm treating you? You are a slave, no better than that kaiila we rode here, no more than the creature I'm eating now. What kind of treatment does a slave expect girl?" His head cocked and he looked at her with a leering grin on his face.

Tears rolled down her face, the she set her lips in a grim fashion, "I shall not be a slave for any man," she stated. "I am valerie of the house of my father, and you cannot take that away."

The man walked to her and slid a piece of the meat between her lips. "Suck on it girl, it will last longer and it is all you will have till we have found our way to my home."

She looked at him strangely then, her eyes capturing his form and searing it on her mind. Strong, controlled, handsome, without question a leader, a man like this would have attracted her attention when she was a young girl in her father's house. Here in the wilderness, it sent a shiver through her, he was a rogue, a stealer of slaves, an outlaw, she was sure that her treatment at his hands would reflect the savagery of the life he lived. Again she looked at him, her mind dancing away with her, a picture of this man taking her on the furs like a rutting animal flashed through her thoughts and she had to turn away.

He smiled as the blush crept over her features, her eyes lowering without her awareness in the classic slave fashion. She was kajira; she just didn't know it yet. Soon enough he would show her what it meant to be the slave of a Master who knew how to make his girl beg for his attention.

He covered her with a blanket, leaving her bound, and then stretched out next to the fire. He found himself oddly unable to sleep, for some reason this girl was affecting him like no other had. This wasn't the first time he had stolen a girl, it wouldn't be the last he suspected. Usually, he took the girl, ravished her, left her pining for more and then either sold her or gave her to his men as a plaything. He shook his head; he must be getting old and soft. He looked over at the bump on the ground that was her and went off to sleep thinking about her eyes, the way the fire had flared when they locked with his.

The girl was restless too, it was uncomfortable being tied and thrown on the ground, but she had been surprised when he put the blanket on her. She also was affected by his nearness, her eyes searching for him next to the fire, she noticed the way he slept with his sword close to hand. She suspected he was a dangerous man in a battle, and the scars she had seen on his chest and arms bore that out. She in turn drifted into sleep wondering what had brought a man like him to the level of a slave stealer.

The next morning, he rose early and prepared the kaiila for what appeared to be a long ride. As he finished the preparations he walked to the girl and released her ankles from the straps, then lifted her to the back of the kaiila in front of him. Rising onto the back of the beast he put his arms around her, grabbing the bridle and whipped it into motion.

They raced through the forest, dodging branches and riding down almost hidden trails. She found herself nestling against him on more than one occasion relishing the warmth of his body, and then she would stiffen and pull herself upright pretending that it was an insult to her. She found herself transfixed by his strength, the muscles under his flesh moving in unison with the beast, his voice silent as he concentrated on putting distance between himself and the city. Finally, late in the evening they broke out of the forest on a great plain, the mountains climbing to the sky in the distance. His eyes darkened at the sight of the peaks and he turned to the girl. "Those are my home, girl. Now they will be yours."

That was the moment she realized who had taken her, her heart beat quickly, but she showed no outer sign of the trembling fear and excitement which possessed her. It was The Questor, Master of the Mountains, Knight of the Crusades, Slayer of Kings, his deeds were seemingly endless, and his mercy was never mentioned as a possibility. She had heard tales of The Questor since she was a young girl, his kingdom was inviolate, and no one had ever conquered his subjects even before he had come out of the West, a virtual stranger who had risen from slave to ruler of the Valley of the Questors.

The Questor took her through a winding maze of mountain trails that no one could possibly follow. Higher and higher they rode, the air thinning around them, the cold settling into their bones. She found herself pressing against him for warmth more than anything now, but she was always aware of the power and the presence of the man. In fact, the closer they moved to his home the stronger and more vital he seemed. It took days, during time which she learned to help with the fire, to lay out the bedding, to feed the kaiila while he hunted. At this point fleeing would do her no good, she was lost, the oceans of her previous life lost incontrovertibly in the distance behind the peaks they had already surmounted. She realized that she was at this man's mercy, which she suspected was sparse and infrequently issued.

By the time they reached the passes that would take them into the valley of the Questors and the mountain trails that would take them to the heights where the Palace roosted she had become used to his smell and touch. She responded to his moods with a joy that she had never suspected was present in her. Without her knowledge she had become reliant on his approval and his whim. The one thing that confused her was that he had not violated her. She knew that was the way of slaves, they were taken, they were used, and depending on their enthusiasm they were kept or passed on. A strange hunger had begun to build in her, and she often looked up to him through dark lashes when she thought he wasn't aware.

He of course, was aware of everything about the girl. He was aware of the way she smelled, the way she moved, the way her eyes dropped now when she spoke with him. He was aware that she would catch herself and revert to the haughty girl that had ridden out of the town with him a week ago. He was aware that her eyes were on him when he moved or sat quietly at night with her bound at his feet next to the fire. He was aware that his patience with her was making her nervous, that she waited constantly for the other boot to drop, that she had begun to do things without being asked that she would never have considered before.

He smiled; the time was close for her to discover what it meant to be a slave. He looked forward to it and hoped it would be painful and difficult for her, for only then ... when she broke through the resistance and accepted what she was, would she be complete.