The Legacy of Priam Pt. 05

Chapter 13 : Ancient Mycenae

Bethany struggled to get as comfortable as she could in the cell. The cells were obviously only intended to hold one. She'd been pushed in with a Japanese girl. The two of them had barely enough space to curl up on the floor at the same time. Clegg had kept them shackled and gagged. The only times that they had any freedom at all was when they were fed.

It had been a long day. Bethany wondered how many more there would be before they were killed or before? What?

This day they'd been told they had to learn how to behave. She guessed that meant Clegg had something else in mind for them. Alexander had delighted in training them to stand or kneel to order. His methods were simple. All of the girls now bore the welts from the strap and canes that he used to reinforce his instructions.

Bethany fell into a fitful sleep, slumped against the bars of the cell, brought back to consciousness from time to time by the pull of the chain around her neck.

Suddenly she was standing in a large room. In the centre, a fire burned in a hearth. Thin wisps of smoke climbed towards a vent in the roof. The walls were plastered and brightly painted. In a small room to one side she could see painted figures of a colossal bull attended by men and women each carrying what she took to be offerings. With a shock she recognised it. This was Pylos, Nestor's palace on the mainland; the great central room, the megaron. How could she be here?

She looked down at herself, surprised to see that she was dressed as the women in the wall painting. Her flounced skirt was ankle length, swinging just clear of the floor, the tight waistcoat with its short sleeves stiff as she tried to move. She realised her breasts were bare, that her hair was braided and dressed hanging down in a long tail from the back of her head.

Two figures appeared in the doorway; warriors, clutching great figure eight shields as tall as themselves, wearing domed helmets covered with boar's tusks. As they lowered their shields, Bethany saw that they were both naked except for a leather codpiece and soft leather boots. The two men's skin was as bronzed as the short swords that they carried. It was Alexander and Stephanos.

"Be - tha – noi," the warrior Alexander greeted her holding his sword aloft. She nodded in acknowledgement of her name.

"The offering," the warrior Stephanos said pointing with his sword to a decorated kylix standing on the floor at Bethany's side. She hadn't seen it before but bent to pick it up, delighting in the intricate octopus design and the scent of oil and herbs from the two handled bowl.

Alexander led the way from the megaron. Bethany followed holding the kylix aloft, Stephanos behind her, stepping slowly through the palace. At a small stone altar the party stopped. "The offering, Be- tha – noi," Stephanos said again, pointing to the altar.

Knowing what was needed to be done but somehow not knowing how she knew, Bethany knelt and poured the contents of the kylix onto the stone. In an instant it turned to dark scented smoke, filling the room and darkening the light that streamed through the windows high in the walls.

As the smoke cleared Bethany was no longer in the palace. Instead she was hurtling through the countryside between olive groves, the air thick with the scent of pines, standing in a two wheeled chariot, wedged between Alexander and Stephanos, still clutching the kylix.

The chariot stopped beside a tall mound. A stone-lined way let to a portal into the mound. Alexander pointed to it. "Be – tha - noi," he said.

She stepped down from the chariot, at once aware that she was walking slowly along a dromos the entrance way to a tholos, a great stone beehive shaped tomb. As she got closer to the portal she realised this was the so-called Treasury of Atreus. But that was at Mycenae, she thought, 75 miles or more from Pylos. How could she be there?

She walked slowly forward carrying the kylix and emerged into the central hall of the tholos. The corbelled roof stretched high above her. Standing between two bronze tripod-cauldrons, were Alexander and Stephanos No longer dressed as warriors they wore short kilted tunics. But how had they got there? They had not passed her in the entrance way and there was no other route into the tholos. They beckoned her to approach them. As she did so they waved her to her knees. She looked up to see their faces were now covered with hammered golden masks.

Bethany's confusion mounted, One moment in Pylos, the next in Mycenae; the tholos; the warriors and now these masks from the grave circle, three hundred years older that the tholos.

And then she was in the open air again. The great corbelled roof of the tholos was gone and she was standing in the scorching Greek sun. As she stood there, Alexander and Stephanos waved towards her kylix and then to an altar stone. She placed the kylix on the altar stone as she did so the two men stepped towards her and took her by the arms. She felt leather thongs being drawn around her wrists and then the two men urging her to her knees.

As she knelt, she turned to see a great black bull; its horns capped with gold, a gold rosette in the centre of its forehead. It was staring directly at her and pawing the ground. Alexander and Stephanos bowed towards Bethany and then stepped away from her. As they did so they seemed to dissolve into the haze of the day's heat and the bull moved towards her. Unable to move, Bethany could only watch as the bull approached; its hot breath hard in her face.

She woke; still in her cell, still chained, with Clegg's face inches from hers.

"Time you were up," he said with a cheery smile. "I've got people looking forward to meeting you."

Chapter 14 : Where Priceless Beauty Has Its Price

Andrea was well practiced. She had forgotten how many times she had helped her brother and the curious Englishman, prepare the women for sale. Sometimes there were not so many women, sometimes there were not so many buyers. Always, though, the arrangements were the same. Prepare the women for parade, take them to their sale posts, make them ready for the auction, package for despatch. Alexander helped. Well, he thought he helped. Like in the bar. She snorted at the thought of it. For him, helping in the bar meant drinking with the customers. It was the same here.

The women were quiet when she came into the hall in the middle of the cells. They had been cowed by the last week of mistreatment. Even the six newcomers had learned quickly that obedience was the best approach. Andrea showed them all the taser she carried, just to remind them to behave well.

Each was taken from her cell in turn, allowed to shower, dressed in a cloak that fastened only at the collar, and then directed up the stairs into the central hall of the villa.

It made a pleasant venue for the auction, Freddie thought. Twelve pillars held up a high ceiling. One wall was glass, looking out across the swimming pool and on to the deep blue of the Aegean, Homer's wine-dark sea.

By the time the buyers arrived, the merchandise was in place. Freddie liked to let them see what was on offer. The twelve girls were all tied, one to each pillar, a single cord around each of their necks sufficient to keep them in place. They stood as they had been instructed, silent, motionless, eyes cast down. Freddie was pleased. Andrea had done a good job. He liked it when the stock did as it was told.

Freddie, ever the good host, saw to his friends' drinks and guided each of them to the lots he felt would most interest them. "Narod, something interesting for you," he enthused, steering the man towards Judy. "You said you were hoping for something with a little more covering." Freddie pulled open the front of Judy's cloak exposing her naked body beneath.

Narod Jesper looked approvingly at Judy's ample curves. He didn't content himself with looking though, reaching out to take hold of her left breast weighing it in his hand and nodding agreeably. "And you say she's not been trained at all?" Jesper gave Clegg one of his piercing stares.

"No more than needed to keep order in here," Clegg smiled. "You know that Andrea can't resist giving them a little encouragement if she feels they aren't doing all as they should. Nothing formal at all, though. Imagine how well she'd look in a corset. She's quite an intelligent girl but I'm sure you could make a good house maid of her in spite of that. And there's no reserve price on this one. I'm really taking a risk that someone here will want her."

"Hmm," snorted Jesper. "If you're left with stock on your hands it will be a first, Clegg. I've no doubt you've had this conversation with at least two of the other buyers." He ignored the hand spreading that Clegg intended to signify "As if I would" and carried on examining Judy, running his hands along her flanks and across her buttocks. "But in fairness this looks like a possibility. We'll have to see how the bidding goes." He moved across to where Bethany was shackled. "How about this one? She must be over thirty!"

"Yes, but not in bad shape, wouldn't you say?"

Jesper gave Bethany a close inspection, pawing her belly and breasts as she tried to struggle away from his attentions. "Hmm, well, not bad. Spent a bit too much time in the sun maybe. The skin isn't great but she's not badly put together. I'm not sure what I'd use her for though. What did you say she was? Archaeologist? Not much of a call for those in my harem!"

"Come on, Narod! There's always a place for a well put together body surely?" Freddie gripped Bethany's robe and pulled it back to give Jesper a better view of her.

"Sure, Freddie, sure," he responded but I've got enough playthings, you know, I need something a bit different if I'm going to add another."

"Look at the mouth," Freddie said. "I'm sure she could be trained to be useful in that way." Bethany scowled at Freddie. He ignored her and reached up to loosen the strap that held in place the ball that gagged her. She groaned as he pulled the ball clear of her lips. "You see she's got quite a pout and a big mouth too. You could have fun in there I'm sure."

"Can I try?" Jesper asked. Bethany looked alarmed.

"Oh my, Narod," Freddie scolded amicably, "No free road tests. You'll have to use your imagination." I'm sure there will be other bidders if you don't think she'd be useful for you."

Bethany tried to break away from Freddie's grip. "You're a barbarian!" She snarled "Interested only by what you can get from women. Concerned only for sex or money."

"You say that like it was a bad thing," Clegg returned amiably,

"Bastard!" she exclaimed. "Bastard!" She was still abusing him as he pushed the bright rubber ball of a gag between her lips. It just came out as "Bar-bar-bar...."

"Funny," said Freddie, "If I remember rightly from one of your programs, it's just that noise that caused the Greeks to come up with the word 'barbarian'. You see, education is never wasted."

He smiled and tightened the cord that held the scowling, struggling and still growling Bethany to her pillar.

It was later.

Freddie watched the buyers closely. There was a crucial moment, he always felt; the point when they slipped from enthusiasm for examining the lots to eagerness for the bidding to begin. Like a surfer catching a wave, Freddie caught the swing in the buyers' mood and brought them together for the auction to begin. He called for the attention of the dozen buyers in the room, Stephanos and Petros waved to indicate that the telephone bidders that they were looking after were on their calls. Freddie peered down at the laptop with its web cam and the window showing bids from his internet clients. "Ladies & gentlemen," he said, "welcome. Let's not waste any time. I'm starting with the first lot in the catalogue. A twenty two year old Caucasian woman of Australian origin. You've all had a chance to examine her or to study the on-line photographs so let me have your initial bids please."

Andrea hustled the struggling, naked and helpless girl out to the platform beside Freddie's dais and the auction began. Stephanos and Alexandra looked in on the others as they sat waiting their turn. Each showed a mixture of fear and defiance, occasionally testing the chains that held them, their eyes wide, taking in each turn of events as they were led, one after the other, to face the judgement of the wallets of the buyers.

Freddie didn't take much notice of their concerns – he was too busy watching the twitches of interest, the glances flickering backward and forth as buyers sought to assess the opposition, the sharp inward breath as a bidder reached what they felt was their limit for a particular lot. Freddie took his time, running an auction was a little like conducting an orchestra. The secret was to bring the bidders to a crescendo at the crucial moment, building each flurry of interest, one upon the other until two bidders, each one intent on proving their skill as much as winning the lot, would drive the price higher and higher.

Chapter 15 : Metaxa and Melancholy

Freddie watched as the buyers began to leave. Narod Jesper's yacht slid towards the horizon. The Beaver floatplane Steve Glennis had come in lifted off from the bay. Even the Kushtians had gone.

It was always the same after a sale; Clegg felt flat, empty almost. He always hated saying goodbye to the merchandise and although the buyers could be tedious at times he'd known most of them for a long time and he was sorry to see them go, too.

The auction had gone well. All of the original lots had gone for more than their estimates. Slowdown in the global economies and the credit crunch not withstanding, Freddie's market was proving as invulnerable to recession as ever. The archaeologists had made surprisingly good prices, given that the buyers had not been given advanced notice of their availability. Bethany had attracted some agreeably competitive bidding between two buyers that recognised her from her television programmes. She had become more alarmed as the bidding increased, imagining – rightly - that the higher the price, the more that was likely to be demanded of her.

Of course, now there were a lot of loose ends to be tied up. He hated that. It was always the downside of having to improvise. He much preferred to have things all set out beforehand but that hadn't been possible this time. The puzzle of the five missing archaeologists would have to be explained. Well, he'd be able to fix something with the help of Petros, he was sure. The non-existent Albanians were already in the frame for the burglary at the site. It shouldn't be too hard to stage something convincing to account for the disappearance of the girls.

Then, there was something to be done about the excavation site. He needed to make sure that the next lot of archaeologists that turned up on the island stayed away from his corner of it. It could only be a matter of time before more of them turned up with their trowels and brushes and radar and resistivity machines. Still at least he had the finds that the girls had turned up. Perhaps they could be used to salt another site. In the mean time he decided that he really ought to buy the land in the valley. At least that would give him some measure of control, and, besides, he'd been thinking that he ought to build some tennis courts and maybe a golf course. If nothing else even if he just got started it would give him an excuse to bulldoze the work that had been done there so far. Stephanos would square it with the island's council.

He was pondering the issue when Alexander appeared with his sister.

"Mr Clegg," Alexander said. "The shipment is ready if you would like to check it."

Freddie nodded. "I'm sure they're fine," he said. "But I'll come and see." If only the buyers would take their purchases with them, they'd save money and he'd have a lot less effort. On the other hand it was more revenue and it gave him an edge over some of his competitors. Clegg's customers knew that their purchases would arrive securely and in good condition.

The only one that was taking any of their purchases with them was Pashim Bey. He'd been successful in the bidding for all of the archaeologists – Freddie wondered for a few moments what he had planned for them. Bethany, though, was to accompany him. His ghanjah would set sail for Alexandria as soon as she was loaded but she would have to wait until the others were dealt with. They had a ferry to catch.

Freddie was confident that Andrea and Alexander had done a good job on packing the shipment but he knew that his approval and encouragement were important to them. He followed them down. It was already getting dark when they got to the yard. The truck would be here soon.

Freddie had been pleased with the idea of the stone blocks. He could remember when they'd thought of it. That was the good thing about working with Harry, this was just the sort of thing he was great at; innovative but practical, too.

They'd been sitting out by the pool, before they'd made the changes in the villa's cellar. They'd been discussing how they would get the girls in and out. One of the quarry trucks had bounced by on the road, throwing a great cloud of white dust up into the air. Freddie had said, "Well it can't be any harder than moving stone can it?" Two days later Harry had come back with the design.

Freddie walked across to the pile of stone blocks. From any distance greater than about a foot they looked like the perfect white marble that came from the quarry. It was only up close that you could see the tiniest of cracks outlining a small square panel. Freddie pressed it and it swung open. Inside an array of small dials gave the vital data; beats per minute, blood pressure, oxygen content, respiration rate. The needles on the gauges all pointed to the green sector on their dials, the occupant of the block was fine. Beside the gauges was a locked switch. Freddie took his key and opened it. Pressing the button withdrew catches with a clunking sound. The top of the block lifted slightly.

Freddie lifted off the false lid of the block. Inside, helplessly secured and plumbed in to the block's various systems, was Helen. Thinking about Helen's situation, Freddie recalled the story of the wooden horse. This was much the same idea, he felt, but an altogether more peaceful application of the concept.

The sedative that they gave the girls before shipping had already taken effect, Helen barely registered the fact that the block had been opened, in spite of the fact that she was staring straight up at Freddie. The strap across her forehead held her head rigid against the padded packing of the block. A heavy neck corset fixed to the block, also helped to keep her head still. The sedated girl hardly needed the strap gag that held the thick leather plug deep in her mouth but it had been fitted nevertheless. You never knew for sure how long the sedatives would last.

Helen stared up at him through the hazy veil drawn across her consciousness by the drugs. She seemed to look half uncomprehending, half in despair. It was always hard to be sure about the drugs. The gag, on the other hand, was much more predictable and besides it carried her feeding tube as well.

Freddie ignored the sensors for the girl's vital signs, they were evidently working. He did check that the twin vibrating dildoes were firmly in place and operational though. They wouldn't be run for long but their occasional input would help to stop her from getting bored during the journey.

The straps around her chest, waist, thighs, calves, wrists and ankles were all fixed securely too. There was no risk of her moving around in the block and coming to any harm.

"Neatly done, Andrea," Freddie praised, checking the tension in the straps. "Tight enough to keep her secure but not so tight as to be any risk to her circulation. I assume the others are the same?"