I stride through the crowd, annoyance running through me. I might not be as close to Alyna as I am to Loran, but the thought that someone’s put her on a leash like a dog…yeah. It makes me regret making a deal with him at all. But that’s just my emotions talking – objectively, he’s done worse to the other people in his ‘care’.

  I’m not the only one feeling irritated – the crowd are getting increasingly restless. As we move, the auctioneer leaves Alyna’s chain in the hands of one of the guards and moves up to the stage.

  “Dear ladies and gentlemen, I’m afraid that I have to call an untimely end to today’s auction.” Shouts of protest ring out and the crowd surges forwards slightly. The guards around the stage bristle and bring their weapons to a ready position. The people closest to the guards fight back against the crowd, clearly not keen on being too close to those weapons. “Please, ladies and gentlemen, there’s no need to be aggravated,” the auctioneer tries to placate. “There will be another auction in half a tenday at the same mark. I will make sure to have some excellent prospects for all pockets then!”

  “Much good it does us now!” shouts one from the crowd.

  “Sell out!” cries another and jeers of agreement ring out from others.

  I tune out of what they say as we carefully make our way to the stage. We even take a little detour just to make our destination a little less obvious – it only takes one person making the connection to have the ire of the crowd turned onto us. And though I suspect that dealing with a whole load of Tier one humans wouldn’t be too difficult for us, creating a bloodbath in the streets is probably not a good use of my first day in Azaarde.

  A combination of subtle direction and my guards and companions making our own threat clear means that no one looks at us long enough to notice where we’re going until we’re almost at the stage. By the time the cry goes up, we are only a few steps away from the line of guards.

  “Let them through,” comes the order and the muscular men who have been eyeing us warily shift so there’s space for us to pass between. Members of the crowd left behind yell abuse at us, though I notice that it’s only a minority of hot-heads. Several others I catch sight of are watching speculatively, no doubt considering what kind of influence might cause the auctioneer to stop his auction in his tracks – and not wanting to get on the bad side of that.

  I glare at the man holding Alyna’s chain.

  “Release her immediately,” I order imperiously, drawing on memories of a tone that I’ve heard other nobles use. “How dare you chain one of mine!”

  The man looks hesitantly to the dealer who’s only now walking down the steps to join us.

  “My apologies,” the dealer replies, reaching out to take the leash from the other man and unhooking it from Alyna’s collar. He gives a short bow unhooking the chain with a slight bow. She moves towards us on quick feet, finding a place to hide between Loran and Lathani. I hear her let out a quiet breath in relief when she’s hidden. “I’m sure you can understand the need for insurance given the ire I knew I would attract in accepting your offer.” He waves vaguely towards the guards and beyond. From what I hear, the crowd is starting to accept that the auction is over – there’s plenty of grumbling, but the edge of violence is mostly gone.

  “Questioning my honour isn’t a good start,” I warn him. As I cross my arms, I make sure to nudge the cloak so it falls away from my shoulder to reveal the Titanbend crest.

  The dealer pales a little and his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows nervously. Given everything, I’m not inclined to try putting him at ease as I normally would. Though Alyna told him I’m the Heir of Titanbend, and he only agreed to call off the auction because of that; it’s clear that the fact hadn’t quite sunk in until he saw the crest.

  He bows again, more deeply this time.

  “My lord, I apologise profusely for any insult I may have unintentionally offered.” He licks his lips as he stands upright, calculation in his gaze. “To make up for it, I will offer you one slave for free.”

  I can tell that the offer pains him deeply – as it would any merchant, I guess. But clearly the desire to stay in my good-books is stronger than his desire to drive a hard bargain.

  I let him stew for a long moment, then nod my head briefly.

  “Let us finalise our deal.”

  Still protected by the guards – the dealer’s as well as my own – we head around to the back of the stage. I notice that there are three other people waiting there, tight expressions on their faces.

  “What are they doing there?” the dealer asks the man who had been holding Alyna’s chain in a hushed tone.

  “They’re the winners of the earlier bids, sir,” the man replies, equally quietly. “We didn’t know if the bids stood with…well. With the unexpected end of the auction.”

  The auctioneer sends me an uneasy look, then pastes a practised smile on. I dislike it out of principle.

  “My lord, I’m sure you recognise that the bids won prior to your offer are not included within the deal, right?”

  I let him stew a bit. If I disagree with him, we both know that he will choose to keep me happy, regardless of what it will do to his reputation. He’s already called off the auction – if I say ‘no deal’, all that will be for nothing. Ultimately, thanks to Nicholas’ name, I have all the power here – and in this particular case, I’m not against exercising it.

  “I wish to speak to the other buyers.” I tell him decisively. The auctioneer gulps a little, but leads us over to the small group. The two men and a woman watch our approach with wariness. I’ve covered the crest on my shoulder again, but the demeanour of the dealer and my entourage are enough to indicate to them that I’m someone to be wary of offending.

  “I’ve made an offer to buy all of the slaves from this auction,” I start abruptly. “And that means all of the slaves.” If I’d done the auction the normal way, the three slaves who had already been on the block before I arrived would be out of my reach. But I have an opportunity here. And, if I play my cards right, maybe I can run two experiments at the same time.

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  The three don’t take my words well. Two are very obviously cursing me in their minds, but it’s the woman who dares to actually say something.

  “Tressbird!” she hisses, bringing to mind a creature who steals the prey of others. “We won those bids fairly – you have no right to take what belongs to us!”

  “Show me the contract where you own those slaves,” I challenge. For obvious reasons, the three remain silent. “Then it is the choice of the one who owns their service contract.” I send a pointed look at the slave dealer. He avoids their gaze and bows to me again.

  “My lord is correct. Though I assure my honoured customers that I will compensate them for the loss – you will have first pick of the next batch of slaves I have to sell, if you leave some direction by which I can invite you.”

  “Or,” I offer, “if your need is more urgent, you can come to visit me and hire one of the slaves from me.”

  The three disgruntled bidders are looking less dissatisfied now that compensation is on the table.

  “I will leave my address with you,” one of the men decides after a moment of thought. “I look forward to receiving the invitation.”

  “My assistant will take your details,” the auctioneer replies with a bow, a touch of relief in his voice. The assistant bows nods his head and he and the bidder walk off to a table just behind the stage.

  “It’s a sad affair,” pronounces the other man pompously, his bright clothes and fancy hairstyle making him seem like he’s trying too hard – he rather reminds me of the merchants back in Sandend. “However, assuming we come to a good price in the private showing, I will bear no grudge,” he offers. The auctioneer looks like he’s bitten into a lemon, but he bows slightly in response.

  “I thank you for your trust,” he comments, his tone unctuous. The probable-merchant sniffs disapprovingly.

  “My office,” he announces, handing an embossed card over to the slave dealer.

  Finally, only the woman is left.

  “I…we need a slave urgently,” she admits, looking at me. “Where should I come to discuss the hire of the slave I won?” Her tone is polite, but the passive-aggressiveness of her words show that she’s not forgiven me for my part in all of this.

  “The Titanbend manor,” I tell her quietly. “I presume you know where that is.”

  The woman just stares at me, stunned. It takes the dealer clearing his throat to jog her out of her trance.

  “Ah…yes, I know where it is,” she replies faintly.

  “Good. Ask for Lord Markus and say that I invited you.”

  “I…I will,” she agrees, still faint. Blinking, she turns and almost stumbles away, forgetting to bid farewell to the dealer or any sort of bow in her daze. Amusement wells up inside me, which grows when I turn to see the dealer looking a little put out.

  “Shall we complete our deal?” I prompt the auctioneer. He jumps a little.

  “Oh! Of course, my lord.”

  All politeness, he leads me towards a sort of shadowy booth. A quick Inspect tells me that there’s an enchantment on it but it is unable to tell me exactly what the enchantment should do. I narrow my eyes at the dealer.

  “What magic do you have on that?” I ask, crossing my arms and refusing with my body language to take a step further until he explains.

  “Oh, on the payment booth?” The dealer seems a little surprised, cold calculation never far from his gaze. “Just an obfustication enchantment. Not everyone wants to reveal exactly where they keep their coin,” he explains, and I’m fairly sure he’s being truthful. I suppose it makes sense.

  “I will go in first, my lord,” Leileh announces, loud enough for the dealer to hear. He takes a quick breath and then eyes me and deflates slightly.

  “Of course, please do,” he sighs. “I assure you I have nothing to hide.”

  I doubt that, but I do believe that he doesn’t intend to harm me – that would be rather counterproductive for him.

  Leileh goes into the booth and I tense slightly as her form becomes completely obscured. I can tell that someone is in there, but it’s like there’s a curtain between us. I can only vaguely see her movements and her sounds are muffled until she steps out again.

  “It’s clear, my lord,” she announces and moves to stand next to the booth.

  “Thanks,” I tell her, then enter the small area. As soon as I step through the door, the shadows vanish and reveal a well-lit cubicle that contains a table and a chest.

  “There were twenty-three slaves in the auction, and I offered one for free as a repayment for my insult. At a price of seventy silvers each, that brings the total to fifteen gold and forty silvers,” the dealer informs me, business-like but with some less-than-obvious nerves. I don’t know if he’s worrying that I don’t have the money or if I’ll take offence because he’s included the two bids I won in the lot, only one of which reached seventy silvers. But I’m not going to quibble over a handful of silvers.

  Pulling my pouch from Goldman’s bank out of my Inventory, I stick my hand inside and mentally ask for exactly the total. I feel a sharp prick as the pouch takes some of my blood to check my identity. The dealer looks a touch relieved when he sees the pouch – clearly he recognises it.

  A heavy weight drops into my hand and spills into the pouch. Pulling out my hand carefully, I tip the pouch on the table top. There’s a loud clatter of coins and when I lift the pouch, a mini-fortune is left behind. The dealer’s eyes flicker between me, the pouch, and the coins and then he gives a satisfied smile.

  “Of course, I do not need to count the coins of the honoured customer,” he ‘assures’ me. I barely keep my snort inside – anyone could see that there are fifteen gold coins there without counting, and someone like the dealer probably doesn’t need to count to estimate that the correct number of silvers are present. “Perhaps I could be of use to you in the future? You clearly have a need for slaves, and I frequently have excellent stock – as you’ve seen.”

  Ah. The reason for his amenability. Still, just because my patronage will benefit him doesn’t mean it won’t benefit me too. Or rather, I will be able to use him to save people who have been chewed up and spat out by this system. And, as long as judicators are as honest as the one I encountered in Sandend, more demand shouldn’t mean more supply, just that the price goes up. Which isn’t a bad thing – people tend to take more care of their purchases if it actually cost them something to buy them.

  “Yes.” I decide. “I would be interested in seeing future…stock from you. Especially if you have women or young people – those under the age of twenty.” Legally, no one is allowed to become a slave before fifteen, but I don’t doubt that it happens, especially when some people might not actually know their age for sure. For those who had such a rubbish start in life that they ended up committing crimes from such a young age – like Loran – I want to offer an alternative. As for the women, they’re more likely to undergo the kind of ‘use’ that I’m completely against.

  “Of course, my lord,” the dealer bows. “I can offer you a private viewing prior to the auction so you or your representative can have first pick.” In short, the dealer doesn’t want a repeat of today. Anyway, it works out better for me so I’m willing to play his game.

  “Fine.” Then I eye him sharply. “And mind that I want them to be in good condition. If I find you’ve been scrimping and saving by not feeding them or clothing them, I’ll find someone else to supply me.”

  The dealer bows low.

  “Completely understandable. I’m honoured to count my lord among my customers and should you need anything or be unsatisfied in any way, please do not hesitate to contact me.”

  “Noted. Now, I assume you have the service contracts for the slaves here?”

  “Of course, of course.” The dealer turns to the chest and opens it by stroking the panel above the lock. Inside, I see a pile of pieces of parchment, some of them flat, some of them curled up in a scroll. It’s twenty-three of the latter that he pulls out and shows me one at a time.

  I verify the contents of the documents – each is pretty similar in form to the others; it’s the crime and the contract price that differ. Then, when I’m satisfied that it’s correct, I sign at the bottom in the space of the buyer while he signs in the space of the seller.

  here!

  here!

  here!

  here!

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