The Eighth God Ch. 03

The small group soon reached a large black iron gate carved into a rocky hillside. The metal was streaked with red rust that looked like blood running down its length. Avery, ever since he was a toddler, had always hated the sight of those gates. The air around it, to him, always seemed heavy and almost chilly.

"The Slavers Guild." Avery announced.

"Ah..." The ambassador said as he looked with a neutral expression upon the sinister gates. "The infamous Guild..."

A thought occurred to Avery. "Are there many guild slaves in Candra?" He asked.

"Of course. The Guild reaches far and wide, and a great many nobles like to have their slaves come to them already trained and obedient." Falin shrugged. "They're always good for manual labor, but we prefer personal slaves with a little bit more... personality."

Avery nodded. "Shall we move on?" He asked the ambassador. Eager to move away from the dreadful sight of the bleak black gates.

As the party continued onwards, Falin suddenly stopped and sniffed at the air. "Is that the Serakunian sea I smell?" He said with a sparkle in his eye. "I've never seen the sea."

"Aye," replied Avery. "We're getting close to the harbor now."

"Tell me, are the legends about the sea true?" Asked the ambassador.

Avery knew well the legends that Falin spoke of. Because the sea was so close to the source of magic, many aberrations in the sea life have been found. Fishermen's nets have picked up multiple-headed fish and shrimp, along with a plethora of other deformities, and stories of giant squids and sea turtles the size of large icebergs have been spread by whalers who came back from extended trips further far out to sea.

The prince told Falin what he knew, and the ambassador listened with rapt attention. "You've never seen these... leviathans then?" Falin asked wonderingly, as the vast expanse of the Serakunian sea came into view.

Before Avery could answer, their ears were assailed by a booming voice. "New stock for sale! Freshly captured from the western barbarian tribes!"

"Shall we take a look?" The ambassador asked Avery, slightly wrinkling his nose at the pungent odor of rotting fish which perpetually hung in the air of the harbor.

The prince nodded, remembered Emma telling him the ambassador had a particular interest in the slave trade, and pointed them towards the wharf where the slave traders were set up.

The wharf had makeshift pavilions set up with cages and stumps along the sides, the roofs of the pavilions were yellow and stained, with tattered holes that gave little protection to those below. Under the pavilions huddled slaves of both sexes, wearing drab, tattered robes and heavy chains that linked them together. A burly slave trader was bellowing at the top of his lungs to attract a crowd. There were three slaves lined up next to the slaver, standing on wooden crates that served as podiums with their feet shackled together and their hands cuffed behind their backs, all linked together with a long chain. All three were fully naked, quivering in the cool autumn air, wearing only the shackles and iron collars. The slaves were all tall and well built, their muscles toned well defined. These were clearly fighting women. Two of the slaves were blonde and fair skinned, characteristic of the Kaskarians, while the last had jet-black hair and darker, tanned skin. Perhaps a barbarian from far north east? Avery thought to himself. Compared to the other slaves who looked dirty and emaciated, the three that were on display were of far better health. Their bodies were clean and glistening with oil, and their faces had slight hints of rouge and eye colors. The slavemaster clearly wanted them to look their best for any potential buyers.

The slavemaster had a short cane which he used periodically to nudge the slaves, making them look forward, keeping their backs straight with their tits jutting out and presented to the audience. The breasts on all three women were generously proportioned. The dark skinned woman was the tallest, the most well built, and had the largest tits of the three.

Although the captives were the picture of athletic health, Avery could not help but notice the scars on their bodies. Some were old, remnants of battles past, and some were much more recent, made by a whip.

The prince raised his eyes to look upon the captives' faces. The blondes had glassy eyes, filled with resignation and weariness, but the darker skinned woman's eyes still burned with rage and pride. She was also the only one to have a ball gag in her mouth.

The slaves on display certainly had impressive bodies, and their faces had a rugged beauty to them. It was uncommon to see slaves of such good quality on the wharf. Most of the higher quality slaves would have been sold to the Guild, and a choice few would've been bought by the major auction houses, to be bid on by wealthy merchants and nobles.

Falin approached the slaves, appraising them with a slight frown. "We usually treat our slaves a bit better in my kingdom..." He said while glancing at the huddled crowd of dirty slaves chained under the pavilion.

Avery felt a bit of heat creep to his cheeks. He felt a little ashamed as he looked upon the malnourished slaves, and glanced back at Emma sheepishly. He never approved of the slave trade, but never really concerned himself with the issue, choosing instead to put it out of his mind most of the time. He knew that the slave trade brought in a large amount of gold to Salka, and he couldn't do much to change it. Nevertheless, the sight of the slaves on the wharf brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

"The finest barbarian stock! Straight from the western front! The blondes are Kaskarian, but this dark one here is a mystery." The slavemaster hollered as he saw Falin's interest in the slaves, and prodded the dark-skinned slave in the breast with his cane, prompting the captive to growl around her gag in response. "She's feisty, this one! You'd have a fun time breaking her in." The slaver laughed and caught Avery's eye. "Prince Avery! Would you be interested in one of these fine fillies? Train them up a bit and they'd be perfect for the pit."

The prince frowned, and the slaver's wide grin faded slightly, unsure of whether he said something to offend the Prince. He did not have time to worry, however, as a nobleman from the crowd approached and shouted. "I like the look of this one." He pointed to one of the blondes. "How much?"

The slaver looked around, gauging the size of the crowd. "Thank you for your interest, my good sir. We shall start the auction now. If you please." The noble, a count, by the look of him, nodded and walked back to the throng.

"My good gentlemen! We shall start the bidding for these lovely, savage barbarian ladies! Fresh from the wilds! Grab them before we sell them to the Guild! Train them yourselves in tune with your wishes! Train them to be bodyguards! Fighters for the pits! Maybe simply to be barbarian mares to be conquered beneath your loins!" The slaver bellowed, loud enough for the entire harbor to hear.

The short speech did its job, the crowd was abuzz, thinking about the possibilities of owning and training a wild barbarian woman, some already had begun to imagine all the debauched things they would do to them.

"Let's start with this one, a fine specimen indeed." The slavemaster prodded one of the blonde captives with his cane. "Shall we start at fifteen gold?"

Many hands shot up, including that of ambassador Falin.

"Not even a day in your city and I'm already bidding for a slave." The ambassador smiled. "You wouldn't mind if I indulged myself, would you?" He asked the prince.

"Of course, your excellency." The prince said graciously. "Take your time."

"Well well, it seems I underestimated your eagerness, gentlemen. Fifty gold!"

Almost all the hands stayed up.

The slaver's eyes glittered with greed. "Two hundred gold!"

Some of the hands wavered and fell. Two hundred for an untrained slave was slightly high, especially one that had a barbarian wildness inside her.

"Two hundred and fifty!"

Only a few hands stayed up at this point. It was true that a well trained slave of the caliber of the ones on display could fetch upwards of a thousand gold, but it was still a large risk to take. Some slaves never truly submit, and foreign slaves often took ill and expired early. There was always the option to send them to the Guild for training, but they come back simpering and mindless, and drop in value significantly.

"Two seventy-five!"

Only the count who had approached the stands earlier and Falin's hands still remained in the air. Falin looked slyly at the count, and said "Three hundred."

"Three hundred from the Candran gentleman!" The slaver roared, recognizing Falin's accent. He then looked to the noble for a counter.

The count glowered at the ambassador, and shouted. "Three twenty-five!"

Falin calmly countered. "Three fifty."

The count gritted his teeth. "Three seventy five!"

The ambassador paused for a few seconds, then shrugged and smiled. "You can have her."

The noble's face glowed with victory, and approached the stands. Falin turned to the prince with a mischievous twinkle in his eye and whispered. "Just a bit of fun, I was more interested in the other blonde anyway."

The slaver unhooked the newly sold captive's chain from the iron loop bolted into the ground, and handed it to the count, who handed the slavemaster a heavy bag of coins. The slaver bowed deeply with an exaggerated flourish. "Is there someplace I can... appraise my new property? I can hardly wait." Asked the count, looking with lust up and down the fine figure of his newly bought slave.

The slaver nodded and gestured towards a tent towards the end of the wharf, erected for the purpose of privacy, when new owners wanted to examine their purchases.

"Come along then." The count yanked on the chain, which provoked the previously quiet slave to spit and spew out a series of unintelligible curses in a foreign, guttural tongue. The count turned sharply to the slaver and hissed. "The slave does not speak common?! How am I supposed to train her personally if she doesn't speak the language you idiot!"

"Not my problem." The slaver shrugged. "You did not ask, my good sir."

The noble cursed and yanked harder on the chain. The female barbarian was pulled off balance and fell off the crate. The noble grabbed her and pulled her by her blond mane, still stumbling, towards the tent, muttering curses the whole way.

The prince winced on the inside, knowing that the count felt shorted and would take his frustrations out on the slave. The rest of the crowd had already switched their attentions to the slaver, who had begun the auction for the next slave.

After a few offers, the ambassador successfully won the bid for the remaining blonde. He showed no discomfort in the auction, and gave off the sense that a few hundred coins was of no issue at all for him. The slave was much more docile than the last, and fell behind the ambassador without much fuss. The ambassador has a good eye... The prince had to admit.

They stayed to watch the last auction. The prince was very curious about the dark skinned barbarian woman, he'd never seen anyone of her like. Her skin was a soft even caramel, and her face had strong, broad, accented features that did not resemble anything he'd ever seen. Her brow still held proudly, even in her current humiliation. Her large, round tits jutting out from her muscular body were not sagging at all, almost as if they had been magically enchanted. A wonderful physique altogether.

The auction was coming to a close. A richly dressed man who looked like a merchant standing not far from the prince seemed poised to take the bid at around three hundred and fifty gold. The prince was close enough to hear the conversation he was having with his friend.

"This one will make a fine slave-whore. The customers are always looking for something new." The man said with a wicked smile on his face.

"She appears to still have much fire in her. Seems she might be difficult to break, this one." His friend responded.

"Nothing some stiff whipping won't fix!" The man cackled. "We'll see how much spirit she'll have left once we take the brand to her!"

The prince turned sharply towards the man with anger flashing in his eyes. His mind raged as he gritted his teeth and balled his fists. "Five hundred gold!" He shouted, startling both the man and the slavemaster, who was just about to announce the merchant as the winning bidder.

"Your grace! I did not expect for you to make a bid." The slaver said, surprised.

The merchant smiled nervously. "If your grace wishes to have her, I must respectfully withdraw." He bowed and shuffled away.

Avery stood awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. He had never purchased a slave before, and he almost regretted his spur of the moment decision to make the bid. Emma noticed his hesitation, and went forward to the slaver. "We did not bring enough gold to cover the bid. I shall send someone to deliver the payment later." The slaver nodded and handed the chain over.

Emma put her hand on the woman's shoulder and tried to guide her off the block, but she refused to budge. The prince fidgeted, not knowing what he should do in such a situation. He certainly wasn't about to order his knights to drag her behind them like livestock. He glanced around and noticed the ambassador watching him with an appraising look. I must not appear weak. He thought to himself.

Avery strode forward to the slave, and removed her gag. "I am your new master now, but I do not wish to be." He whispered gently to her. "If you understand me, please come with me for now and I'll grant you your freedom later."

The woman's eyes widened, but shook her head, and simply said. "No."

It was Avery's turn to be surprised, not only by the fact that she understood him, but also because she had refused his offer. "At least come to my estate and let me treat your wounds and give you some clothes?" He asked.

The woman kept shaking her head. "My husband," she said with a guttural, but understandable accent. "I will not leave him." She turned and looked towards a giant of a man, who was now standing amongst the crowd of slaves in the pavilion. The man was gigantic, and wore only a loincloth. Muscles covered every inch of the man's exposed body, which even rivaled Avery's uncle Kalman in size.

Avery turned to the slavemaster. "How much for that one? I wish to purchase him as well." He pointed towards the woman's husband.

The slaver shook his head. "Already sold to the Guild, I'm afraid. They know a promising fighter when they see one."

Avery gritted his teeth. "How much have they paid for him?"

"Your grace, as much as I'd like to sell him to you, you must understand I cannot risk offending the Guild." The slaver said apologetically.

"You'd risk offending me instead?"

The slaver grimaced. "You're putting me in a rough spot here, your grace..."

"Tell you what, I will pay you fifty gold more than whatever the guild has offered you. If they give you trouble, tell them to come to me."

"But-"

"That will be all." The prince declared with a voice which brooked no argument, his confidence stemming from the anger he still felt bubbling in his chest.

The slaver inclined his head in acquiescence hesitantly, and went to take the hulking barbarian from the pavilion.

Upon being freed, the huge barbarian moved towards them as fast as he could, still bound by chains across his arms and ankles. The prince's knight retainers immediately rushed in front of him in anticipation of violence. Fortunately, they were not the objective of the large man, who rushed to his wife, and hugged her as best as he could with the chains still hindering them.

The prince ordered his servants to take the chains off the couple, and asked. "What are your names and from what kingdom do you hail?"

The woman answered haltingly in her guttural accent. "We are from the Gormund plains. We do not bow to any King. I am Mursa, and my husband is Garo."

The prince struggled to remember from his geography lessons where the Gormund plains were. I should have paid more attention to my tutor. He thought to himself. He seemed to recall hazily that it was far to the northeast of Candra.

While he was musing to himself, the tent in the back of the wharf opened. Out stepped the nobleman who had bought the first blonde slave, whom he towed behind him, still chained. The blonde's face and asscheeks were stricken red, and a stream of white ran down the length of the inside of her long legs.

"Come on you worthless slut! Get moving!" The noble pulled sharply on the chain as he dragged the slave behind him.

Prince Avery watched as they left the harbor. You can't help all of them. He reminded himself, grinding his teeth in anger and frustration. He then noticed the barbarian couple that he'd just bought staring at him, with eyes that seemed to be wondering whether they'd have a similar fate awaiting them.

"I am Prince Avery of this Kingdom." Avery said as he turned to the couple. "It is not my intention to keep you both in bondage, and would like to set you both free as soon as possible, but first allow my people take you back to my estate and give you a hot bath and look after your wounds."

The barbarian couple nodded hesitantly, and Emma stepped forward to take them away. Avery turned back to the Ambassador, who had been watching the entire scene with a bemused expression, and said. "We've lingered long enough, ambassador. Shall we make our way back?"