| |
Alexandra felt everyone’s eyes on her. It was not a good feeling. She felt humiliated, sad, depressed, and hoped that this could end soon. Deep down she was angry, and it fueled something she did not like that lay deep, and buried within her. Alexandra did not like the idea that she would be a slave, and even worse she had to wallow in her own filth.
It was bad enough that she might have to live the rest of her long life this way. The books that were available for her to read in the tower over the last fifty, or so years could have never prepared her for the experience of this horrid day. She had no military training and was still tired, and weak from the shark attack. The shaman motioned for one of his acolytes to bring something over to him that had one end sticking in the fire.
Alexandra could see that one end of it was red, and was smoking as it hit the cooler air outside the fire, which meant that it was really hot. The acolyte handed the shaman the object that he had requested, careful not to burn himself, or the shaman. Holding it high in the air for everyone to see, the shaman then spoke,
“This object that I hold before all of you is a branding iron, which is not as obvious as that sounds due to its construction of fire hardened steel as opposed to iron. The reason is that it gets red at a hotter temperature. Our ancestors, to show the world of our ownership of our slaves, have used it for thousands of years. Everyone in Sevle knows our symbol, everyone fears our symbol, and best of all we have a lot of people out there that will return our slaves to us.
“We give a reward of one thousand Dinars, and that is equivalent to five pounds of our rubies, or two pounds of our emeralds, or half a pound of our diamonds,” He grabbed Alexandra’s hair with his left hand while still holding up the branding iron with his other hand then continued to speak.
“This slave is worth far more than the typical slave. She is worth fifteen pounds of our diamonds compared to the half a pound of diamonds for the typical slave. We will reward ten pounds of diamonds for her recovery. This brand will help us recover her because it is better known than the markings that we have placed on her.
“The high-class bounty hunters will be able to recognize the special markings, the dots, and the identity tattoo, and this will tell them of the price that we will pay for her return. They get nothing for her being dead, but get the rewards for her being alive.”
Four stout acolytes held Alexandra as the shaman walked over to the back of her, and pressed the steel branding iron into the back of her neck at the base of her skull. He held it there for what seemed like hours to Alexandra while she screamed, and went limp in the acolyte’s arms. When he removed it, he smacked her across the left side of her face four times leaving welts to make her at least semiconscious and said,
“Dog you are now branded a slave, once a slave, always a slave. This part of your inauguration is complete. Your first duty shall be to serve the food that the cooks have been preparing all morning. The food consists of goat’s blood to drink and three-dozen sailors or pirates, whatever they are as they all seem to taste the same Har! Har! boiled in an herb broth.
“Hmmm! It is very tasty indeed, but best served with nice Sevlin fat gravy, stewed mushrooms, and a touch of salt, and pepper. I trust that you have been told who eats first. Now, have you been told how to serve?”
“I know the order of who eats first. I have not been told the manner of serving,” Alexandra said with tears in her eyes. The shaman walked her over to the table that contained the food, and spoke to her,
“This table is where the food will always be. You take this large tray, and set it on the table like this,”
He showed her the way of setting up the tray to maximize the space on it, and continued to speak his directions.
“There are five elders so you place five mugs on the tray, and two pitchers of goat’s blood. You also place five large bowls on the tray, and one large serving bowl. You then fill the large serving bowl with the sailors, or pirates in herb broth.
“Once that is done you then pick up the tray, and serve it to the elders. When the elders are satisfied with their appetites you go, and serve the next in line.”
It sounded simple enough, but nothing about this day was plain, or simple. He continued to speak after his face turned an angry red.
“If you spill anything you will be whipped each time that you do. The more you spill the less chance you have of eating at all. I am going to go sit down now. You prepare everything as I have instructed you to do so, and you will be fine. Now get to work, maggot.” The shaman went, and sat down leaving Alexandra at the food table.