Alysana
The men were led in chains and defeat.
Alysana watched the rows of ragged, tired individuals as they were prodded and forced into the center of the market square. They walked in a line, with their hands clapped in iron shackles, but their feet free. Arranged with the taller and stronger men toward the front and the weaker and shorter men toward the rear, they numbered in the dozens and looked to come from just about every background. Alysana’s eyes widened when, toward the back of the line, she saw that there were children in chains as well. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the men who had captured these children were the same ones who had tried to take her and her sister all those years ago, thanks to Ghaja Rus.
Her rage rose at the thought. From the corner of her eye she saw Thornton scowl, undoubtedly feeling the same.
Under his breath the blacksmith muttered, “The sooner we can get out of here, the better.”
They had decided, back at the inn, that Thornton would be the one to accompany her to the auction. Ghaja Rus had seen her face and would recognize her if he was in attendance. It would be highly unusual for her to bid on the slave that she’d sold, she reasoned, but not surprising at all for a Khyth to want to walk away with an Athrani prize, even if that prize was a half-eye.
“I do not like this any more than you do,” she conceded. “But that Farstepper will be beyond useful to us where we are going.”
While they waited for the slaves to finish shuffling into place, Alysana looked around at the City of a Thousand Towers and grudgingly admitted that she was impressed. The market area of Théas was massive, and the city seemed to have been built around it; white, towering buildings crowded together like naked trees in a forest of stone.
The brickwork in the market area was exquisite, with repeating diamond patterns on the ground that drew the eye and clearly delineated this part of the city from the rest. Like an ornate throne room, it was apparent that this was the gem in the crown of Théas. A massive slab of limestone was the centerpiece of the market area, which had stairs carved into its sides, making it look like a stage. The more she studied it, though, the more Alysana realized exactly what it was. Little surprise, she thought with a frown: Théan prosperity was built on the backs of slaves.
The auction area was just one part of the sprawling marketplace, yet it was the center in every sense. The shops and surrounding buildings formed a circle around it that was wide enough for a few hundred people to crowd into. Access to the auction area was made by one of five avenues: the first, to the north, was where the slaves had come from; the second entrance was by way of a wide alley that came from the east, eventually leading to the eastern gate of the city; the remaining three entrances led west, southwest, and south.
As Alysana looked up and down the faces of the men and boys who had been herded in, she saw none of the telltale signs of a Farstepper: red hair and red eyes, the hallmark of men born with a power that few understood. She turned to Thornton and whispered, “If he’s here, I don’t see him.”
Thornton squinted, scanning the crowd of slaves. “Maybe he’s in the back,” he mumbled absently.
The slaves had lined up behind the limestone stage, standing precisely in five rows of ten columns, neatly equaling the width of the stage itself. Military precision, Alysana noted. No doubt for the benefit of the buyers to show they can take orders.
As the crowd of a few hundred settled down, Alysana touched the coins in her purse that she had made from selling off the horses earlier—a necessity if they had any hope of purchasing the Farstepper. But as she scanned the faces of the slaves one more time, she realized there was another thing missing: Dailus.
“Our first specimen,” came a voice from the front corner of the stage, that of a tall, thin man in fine clothing, “is a raider from the frozen lands of Hjorl.” Standing by the auctioneer was a thick G’henni whom Alysana recognized as Rus’s doorman. “We will begin the bidding at one silver piece.”
In the center of the stage stood a tall, handsome man in worn leather armor and furs. Alysana gaped as she found herself thinking, This man is a slave? He was well muscled and surprisingly good looking. He had a chiseled jaw, and his light hair and skin, along with the blood he shared with the people of Hjorl, meant that he was as hard and tough as a block of solid ice.
The surprise on her face must have shown more than she realized, and she was startled by the smooth, deep voice of the man beside her. “They always start with the best ones first,” he said. She turned her head to see an older man in a fur-trimmed velvet cloak over a dark shirt with golden embroidery. His white hair retained only the slightest whispers of the black that it clearly once had. “By the time they get to the smaller ones, the weaker ones, the men who can afford them are among the few still bidding.” With a hint of disdain he added, “Only the most desperate of men would pay for a child.”
Alysana smiled a thin smile and turned her head to face the man. “What makes you think I didn’t already know that?” she asked coyly.
“Well, for one, I’ve never seen you before,” he said as he smiled at her. “And I would definitely remember seeing you.” He bowed and took her hand in his, kissing it softly as he looked her in the eye. “Connus, at your service.”
“Alysana,” she answered with a flush. Looking at him, she could tell he had been handsome in his youth, with his dark eyebrows framing a pair of piercing brown eyes that bored deeply into her own. She felt her knees tremble a bit as his charm caught her off guard and drew her in; she had never been happier that her dark G’henni features hid her blushing so well. “Pleased to meet you.” She quickly slipped her hand from his and turned away before any further damage was done.
“One silver piece,” Connus said loudly, raising a finger in the air but still looking at Alysana.
“We have one silver,” replied the auctioneer, as he acknowledged him with a nod.
Connus leaned over to her. “This one must have been caught in a border clash,” he said, nodding to the slave on the auction block. “The Hjoruns rarely make their way this far south. They content themselves to raiding Ellenos, or even Annoch, but mostly stay to the Kvenni tundra north of Derenar.”
“Two silvers,” said a man from deeper in the crowd. The auctioneer echoed his call.
“Three,” said another.
“Four,” said Connus. And to Alysana, he said, “Life in the north makes them hardy and unyielding. Most of them are bred as warriors and hunters, and they know their way around skinning an animal. Very useful protecting a caravan or”—he lowered his voice—“as assassins.”
Alysana stiffened and looked at the cold, blue eyes of the man on the auction block. He seemed indifferent, as if he cared little that he was being bid on, or even who won. Unyielding indeed, she thought.
“Five,” said one of the previous bidders. He looked dark and unscrupulous, and Alysana wouldn’t have been surprised if he intended to use the northerner as a hired blade.
A few of them went back and forth, with more men dropping out when the bidding reached ten silver pieces. It slowed to a trickle, and eventually the old man beside her, Connus, made the winning bid of eighteen pieces of silver. He seemed pleased, and expressed as much in a grunt of satisfaction.
“Well worth the price,” Connus said as he leaned over to her again. His deep voice sent a pleasant shiver down Alysana’s spine. She smiled thinly and felt her purse again. They had gotten a good deal on the horses: three gold pieces for all nine. The other three horses they had kept for the ride through the Wastes. If eighteen silvers is what it takes to win the best of the lot, she thought, I should have enough to buy back Dailus.
But the auction continued, longer and longer, with no sign of the Athrani half-eye or the Farstepper. She began to grow nervous when the number of slaves dwindled to a handful and there was no sign of either of the prizes, prizes she thought would have surely come toward the front.
Maybe they keep them in a separate waiting area, she thought with uncertainty.
“You haven’t bid yet,” Connus said to her, interrupting her thoughts. “Are you waiting for something in particular?” Looking at her dress and eyeing her purse slyly, he added, “These have all been good choices. I doubt you’re waiting for the end to see the cheaper ones.”
Alysana shifted uncomfortably and kept her eyes on the auction block. “Perhaps,” she said stiffly. “I heard there was a Farstepper.”
“Ahh,” Connus said knowingly as he tapped his temple. “Then you will certainly want to stay ’til the very end.”
“Oh? What comes then?”
Connus simply smiled and turned his attention back to the stage. “You’ll see, if you’re lucky.”
Alysana turned to Thornton, who had been silent for most of the auction, and gave him a puzzled look.
“Don’t look at me,” he said. “You’re the one who’s from here.”
“I am not ‘from here,’” she corrected. “And I do not think I would be so quick to claim it if I was.”
As the bidding died down and most of the crowd dispersed, Alysana looked around. Despite what Connus had said, about the men who would wait for the end being the poorer and desperate, what she saw intrigued her. Most of the men left in the crowd, about a dozen, wore fine clothes and had been some of the more active bidders.
“Connus,” she said, getting the attention of the older man.
“Yes, my dear?” he asked in his smooth baritone.
“I thought you said only the most desperate men would remain.”
“I said only the most desperate would pay for a child.” He nodded at the G’henni man, who had caught his eye. The G’henni nodded back as the last slave, a young boy born a slave according to the auctioneer, was sold off. The G’henni stepped off the stage and approached Connus, bowing slightly.
“Connus, yours is always a welcome face at the auction.”
“Yuta, I trust Magistrate Rus is well,” Connus responded, nodding in return.
“He is, and he requests that you join him for the private auction afterward.”
“Of course. You know I can never turn one down.”
Alysana was surprised at the exchange, but more surprising was when Yuta turned to her and said, “And he would very much like to see you there as well, my lady.”