Larkin Ch. 01

Larkin Brown had known who she was destined to marry since she was six years old. Cotton Weathers was two years older and their fathers had been good friends and neighbors long before the two had been conceived. Eight miles didn't seem like it was nearly as far as it used to be as they got older. Larkin would peer at him shyly from behind her papa on most visits, until after she had turned 13. Cotton had asked her if she would like to see his new horse and her shyness fled as he took her out to see the new pony.

As she got older, Cotton seemed to get more handsome and Larkin was besotted with the tall farmboy. He was just as over the moon for her. He had been saving every copper he came across since he was nine years old in anticipation for the yearly auction.

To many of the villagers, the auction was an antiquated custom, but it was also convenient. The way the farms were so spread out, it was hard for folks to meet and for their growing kids to find likely partners. So every year on the first day of spring, every girl who had reached the age of eighteen was brought in for the auction. Some called it the dowry trade now, but everyone knew what it really was.

Cotton knew Larkin would go high, but he wasn't worried. He had eleven whole silvers saved, an enormous amount. He could buy a plot of land for less. He was fairly sure the other boys and even the bachelors and widowers who sometimes showed up wouldn't have so much. It was next to unheard of for a girl to go so high. Two years past, Elisha Comers had gone for six silvers and she was considered a fantastic beauty. Cotton knew Larkin might go for as much even if she didn't believe it. She was beautiful and her sweet shyness was so becoming.

Larkin sat in her fathers wagon, the rocking bumping and swaying not helping the butterflies in her stomach. Her mother tried to soothe her, but it was her papa she clung to. "What if I don't bring enough papa?"

Her dad just smiled. He was a man of few words, Osh Brown. He knew his daughter was a prize and he wasn't worried. Her dowry would pay off all the debts he owed from 3 bad years of crops and she would be close to boot. He would get to see her often and that pleased him.

"What if I am last?" she fretted.

Osh kept smiling. He wasn't worried about that either. The girls were arranged as they arrived, displayed up on the short stage at the inn. The prettiest at the front of the line, the least comely at the end. They did it that way, auctioning the prettiest first so that the less comely girls would bring something. If they waited and sold the pretty girls last, everyone would save their coppers hoping for a chance at them. By putting the girls in order, the boys got more and more desperate to bring home a wife, so much so that even an ugly or heavy girl would bring something. If Larkin wasn't in the top five, he'd eat his hat. He was of the personal opinion she would be first, but he knew he was biased.

Osh pulled up in front of the inn, at least near as he could get. He would let his women off and go find a place to unhitch. The auction always brought in record amounts of local farmers, but this year seemed to make the inn look bursting at the seems. He noticed his daughter climbing down distractedly, looking for Cotton. He appeared from around the back of the wagon, offering a hand to help her down. Her smile at him and his to her spoke volumes to Osh. The boy would be good to her. He pulled away and let Missy lead their daughter into the bustling inn, Cotton following behind with the confidence only youth could bring.

Larkin was a little overwhelmed at the crowd at the inn. She had never seen so many people in one place at once, not even at harvest. Her mother led her to the back and her stomach was so curdled, she thought she may need to step back outside. She hoped she wasn't last! She knew she was as average as it was possible to be. She wasn't tall, she wasn't short. She wasn't skinny, she wasn't fat. She wasn't good at her lessons, she wasn't bad. She could only cook two or three meals that were good, the rest were mediocre or bad. She wasn't great at sewing or mending. The only thing she was good at was training animals. Her hair wasn't the beautiful golden curls like Sarah's, or the raven black long tresses of Mathilde. It was a nutty brown that only curled slightly and had to be cut last year after she had singed the ends in a fire. Her eyes were boring hazel. She was unremarkable in every way. She only hoped she wasn't last.

Mathilde saw her first and gave her a frosty smile from the front of the line. Sarah saw her from behind Mathilde and clapped in delight and darted out of line to give her a hug. Sarah's personality was as beautiful as her hair and just as shining and bubbly. Mathilde was just as dark as her black hair.

The Elders quickly pulled Larkin from Sarah's embrace and started their inspection, turning her and looking at her teeth and asking her to perform simple movements. They made tallies on their sheets as they went, then when they finished, they conferred and made a decision. The only woman in the group took her hand and pulled her onto the dais. As soon as they passed the end of the line, Larkin was relieved, but when she kept going, Larkin was alarmed. Not too far! She didn't know how much Cotton had saved, but he was still a youth and it couldn't be much! When the woman passed Sarah and Matilde, Larken was devastated. She didn't care that she had been put at the front, she only fretted that she would go to some old widower who had had time to save more. When she worriedly searched the crowd, she saw Cotton, a head above the gathered crowd, smiling at her, his eyes shining. She felt a wave of affection wash over her. He was proud that she had been placed at the front. She hoped the smile meant he wasn't worried about affording her.

Larkin ignored the other men, moving up and down the line, inspecting the girls. Right up until there was a commotion of soft whispers and excitement. A man was moving up the line. He was older than most farm boys who were here for a wife, but he wasn't a farmer. He wore brocaded silk, the likes of which Larkin had only read about. His boots were fine, soft leather that went to his knees and had never seen a days work. He wore a sword at his hip and had the definite look of a man who knew how to use it. He was not local, that was for sure. His shoulder length, lightly curled black hair would not go unremarked, not to mention those bright blue sapphire eyes. He moved up the line at a leisurely pace, but as he moved closer, he slowed, going over each girl more slowly. Once he reached the first five, he paused at each girl, motioning them to turn for him. It wasn't unheard of for a man to ask, but it was considered bad manners. Mathilde was the only one who bore it in bad grace, glaring at the man. When he stopped in front of Larkin, she dropped her eyes, feeling heat rush to her face. She turned without being asked and stared hard at the floor. 'Move on!' she willed him silently, but he stood in front of her until she finally glanced up. His smile was... predatory. He nodded, ever so slightly, then wandered into the crowd. Larkin felt tears spring to her eyes and she lifted her eyes, looking for Cotton. He was watching the man, concern painting his features. No!

"Odious man!" Mathilde hissed.

Indeed! Larkins stomach was getting worse and Sarah stepped back enough to rub her back and shoulders in commiseration. Everyone knew her and Cotton only wanted each other.

More girls arrived as the morning wore on and finally the noon bell sounded. Larkin was still at the front and she didn't understand it. Mathilde was tall and regal and stunning and Sarah was so sweet and tiny and adorable.

Elder Brookhaven climbed to the special podium that was for trials and this auction only. He banged a heavy stone on the steel plaque and the men finally quieted down. Only bidders and fathers were allowed in the inn once bidding started, so the crowd thinned out considerably.

Elder Mason took Larkins hand and led her to the block with the stairs behind it. He helped her up and stood next to the tall block, making sure she didn't lose her balance and fall.

"First for dowry is Larkin Brown from the Brown farm. Daughter of Oshegun and.."

He was cut off by the man in silk. "One gold."

Larkin almost fell off the block as there were gasps and loud whispers. NO! Her eyes went to Cotton who was pale as a sheet. He turned and darted out the door with his head down, not looking back. NO!

"Uhh... first bid of one gold. Anyone else?"

The room was eerily quiet as the farmers all looked at the newcomer.

"Dowry accepted to Mr?

"You may call me Wynter. I offer one gold each for the first ten girls on that dais."

There were more shocked whispers and even shouts.

"You can only bid on one!" someone called.

"Aint no rule on that!" Ben Newhaven said. His daughter was eighth down the line.

"No one needs more than one wife!" from another voice.

Elder Brookhaven pounded his rock until people quieted. "While there is no written rule against offering a dowry on more than one girl, it is sort of an understanding. What could you possibly do with ten wives?"

"Wives? No. I can get up to 100 gold for each of them at the port. There is no written law. I am in direct service to Duke Rawlins of Mastonelle. Shall I return to him and tell him you flouted your own laws to deter his own wishes?"

There were murmurs and angry noises as elder Brookhaven considered.

"I withdraw my daughter from the auction!" Osh shouted angrily, heading towards Larkin.

"Touch any of those girls and I will have your hand!" Wynter said, his eyes skewering Osh in place.

"I won't have my girl sold as a slave!"

"You were ready to five minutes ago! It is the same thing but you will receive more money in compensation. Accept your payment and walk away. It is all you can do. That IS in your laws. Once the bids start, the girls cannot be withdrawn. Isn't that so?" he asked Elder Brookside.

Elder Brookside, nodded minutely, his face red. "It is so, Osh. I am sorry. One gold has been offered in dowry for..." he glanced at his paper.

"I don't need names. Just get on with it," Wynter said.

"Uhh... yes. Are there any higher offers for these girls?"

The room was dead silent.

"Dowries accepted," Elder Brookside said sadly.

"Girls!" Wynter snapped. "Outside, now!" he said, motioning to the door. Larkin didn't have a chance to watch them or step down. Wynter caught her around the legs and threw her over his shoulder as he followed the other girls out, most sobbing.

This wasn't real. It couldn't be! Wynter spun, handing a clinking bag to someone Larkin couldn't see.

"That wagon!" he barked, raising his free arm to point.

"Please sir," Sarah asked sweetly, piteously. Larkin thought she was going to beg to be released. "Not her. You can't be rough with her. She isn't like other girls! Please let us..."

"You will not speak unless I give you permission. Get in the wagon!"

He moved to the wagon and swung Larkin down. She winced and tensed, preparing to land as heavily as he had thrown her, but he caught her last moment, softening her landing. "Climb up the front, near the opening," he said gently.

Larkin noticed then that it was a covered wagon. Not canvas like she had seen, but almost a tiny house on wheels. She quickly did as she was told, moving to sit on the bench near the opening at the front next to the drivers seat. A small door was latched open, showing the opening could be closed off. The other girls climbed in, some still sobbing. Tears stained Mathildes cheeks, but she wasn't sobbing. Sarah quickly moved to sit by Larkin, holding her hand and stroking it. To her surprise, Mathilde sat next to her on the other side and patted her leg twice before crossing her arms to lean back. It was the most kind think Larkin had ever seen her do.

As soon as the last girl was in, Wynter closed the back door and Larken heard him latch it. The sobs grew louder, the locked door driving it home that they were all about to be sold as slaves. The only light came from the small door, until a small window was slid up on the door. There was a grate over it, keeping even the smallest arm from being able to reach through it. The wagon rocked as Wynter climbed into the driver's seat and he came into view at the door, sitting just off to the side of it.