Mother died. The trip to Bandanii, although short, had been arduous and scarce. With little food and no medicine, Mother lasted for a week. A painful seven days filled with tears and groans of unquestionable sincerity.
The slavers, with little regard for her soul, threw her into the sea and, of those who had once been their servants, three more joined soon after. The survivors, already unloaded at the dock, waited in line silent and hopeless. Aventure, hugging tightly to the arm of her new husband, or lover, or whatever he was now, watched from between the crew of the Swallow with the grimace of those who have cheated fate.
Tied in shackles, Donna could only drag her feet across the deck. “Keep moving,” said the man with a whip. She passed by Aventure and the former servant lowered her eyes, unable to face her shame. As Donna stumbled onto the platform, a voice she had long wanted to hear whispered from behind. “Are you hurt? Have they treated you decently?“
“Silence!” The whip in the air did not stop Donna from turning. Lim, with her face as dirty as her dress, dragged her own chains with undaunting elegance and bent to kiss her pupil’s forehead. “I’m sorry about your mother.”
As always, when Lim unravelled concussions of the smallest, random details, Donna felt the need to ask. But what for her was simply genius and observation, for the surrounding sailors was witchcraft. It became shortly clear, stirring up fears of armed men was not a good idea. “I said shut up, witch!” shouted the wiping sailor. “One more word and I swear I’ll cut your friend’s throat!”
Terrified, Donna moved slowly along the board until she joined the others. Lim followed, only to speak again when, already leaving the ship and boarding peer behind, a red man with a cat o’nine took the command of the prisoners. “Have you seen the girl?”
Donna shook her head. “They took out the baby and the wet nurse hours before me.”
Lim filled her lungs with courage and turned towards the red slaver. “Master of queues. Forgive my audacity and give your benevolence to this, your property, to seek an answer for soul easing and past cleansing. Have you seen an infant get off this ship?”
The red slaver smiled broadly, and after delicately moving Lim between Adrio and Sinpar, two of Father’s cooks, he knelt to remove the chains from their feet’s shackles. With dexterous hands, the slaver redesigned the chains so that the three were tied together, and after tossing the cat o’nine to his companion, he punched with indiscriminate power over Lim’s stomach.
Lim hunched over and collapsed into unconsciousness. Following an incomprehensible yelling from the salver, a man with a curved back and a trembling voice translated to the cooks. “The Master says you two bring her silently or you will receive equal treatment.”
Draggin Lim like a sack of goods, they moved like souls in pain through crowded streets blurring with the stifling heat. Bandanii, the capital of the Madah Empire was one of the two countries of the Red island. While Romett, the western one was famous for their dark-skinned warriors and endless crops of rice and fruits, Nadah was only known for The Desert Road, the mines of the Black Rock and the bazaars of its capital, all essential places for one, and only one thing: Slaves. Bandanii was more than only human trade, though. Especially after the war, the city-market had become, with its dozens of bazaars and hundreds of merchant streets, the place to go if you were looking for anything unfindable.
Donna’s despair found some ease with the great number of wonders and rarities continually crossing her path. There was no race, skin, or clothing standing out. The city was a medley of the world, overflowing with colourful birds and caged giant cats. Fruits of the unusual shapes mixed on stalls along with the strangest silks and skins. A shiny place hiding its dark existence under the beauty of colourful fabrics and fragrant spices.
Of all the wonders unfolding, the ones picking Donna’s interest by far were the sporadic prosthesis roaming here and there with their owners. Limping metallic legs, clasping hooked hands, shoulders, arms, eyes, jaws. You could name anything and find it. Although they were all functional to a certain degree, none seem to reach the level of father’s work at closer looks but, for the same reason of mediocrity, Donna’s passion for such a field of work sparked a frustrating curiosity only other circumstances could fulfil.
The Square of Weepers was, like everywhere else in Bandanii, a chaotic mess. An organised disarray of screaming, bidding and chattering, all working at once with clock wheels precision to sell people methodically without pause. No corner was empty, no mouth was shut, and from the wooden blocks scattered throughout the square, excited and sometimes aggressive disputes broke out each time a new living good was placed over the platform. As the dwellers of red city were a mixture of everywhere, were also the sold and the buyers. It was a place for everyone’s shame, and in the face of such disgrace, Donna wept.
They stopped in a tent next to the largest podium and a diligent gang of old women rushed in to dust them out and fix their hair. Without much delicacy, one of the nastiest of them pulled Donna to her side to slap her cheeks to blush the colour. “Forget your past and cleanse your dear soul. This is the new path of your life.” The old lady said while Donna challenged the aggression with threatening eyes.
After being bossed around a little more, morally defeated and just as terrified as arrival, Donna crouched in a corner waiting her turn to be sold. Adrio went up first, accompanied by a salesman who pretended to dress elegantly but who looked more like a jester. Next was Alvina, a cute young sewer. When she reached the top, the crowd on the other side roared with excitement.
After a while, and what Donna supposed to be a brief break of business, the human seller, called Amar by a group of scoundrels laughing and toasting in a corner, joined the celebration before returning to his business. Branlin Sanar appeared from amongst the party goers and anger churned in Donna’s stomach. She wished to be braver and stronger. Be as cruel as them, so she could jump without fear and stab his neck without remorse. But she was neither brave nor strong. She was just a book lover, pretending she did not care about anything happening around her.
When Branlin Sanar saw the new arrivals, he stood up with a rush. He whistled and beckoned, inviting a small group of wealthy men to enter the tent. “Gentlemen, as premium clients you can bet first as promised,” Sanar said as he prompted an almost unconscious Lim to stand up. “This beauty would be ideal for your pleasure house, Lord Obuss. And I have a couple of powerful beasts for you, Callandros!”
Sanar stepped to the side, and a fat, sweaty man took his place in front of Lim. She was awake, but barely conscious, and although Donna had never seen anything given to her, she gave the impression of being drugged. After digging his finger into a greasy dish and licking it determinedly, the fat, sweaty man used the same digit to push up Lim’s lips and inspect her teeth. Donna spilled with rage and swore to herself to bite off any finger who dared to stick in her mouth.
RIght after, the man inspecting Lim pulled the jaw from side to side, and pushed up her eyelids. “First class material, yes. Why did you tame her? Temper?”
“Too chatty. And too clever. This one just needs to learn to shut up.” Salar said.
“My squeezers will make her learn. My valet will pay you whatever you want for this one, but give me a discount on the next ones, yes?”
Lim was taken away without the will or sense to fight back, and Donna, also lacking the same power, only mumbled her name as she disappeared behind the rags.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“How about this one?” Sanar asked, tapping Donna’s shoulder. “Not so pretty, but young!”
The fat man grimaced and waved. “That’s a horse for the stables, just like that one.”
After a scream of despair, Donna turned. The one he was referring to was Aventure. Being dragged by the hair towards the podium, the unfortunate girl once believed to be saved was begging for the mercy of his supposed fiance, or husband or whatever he made her believe. The sailor, the same vermin who sang inappropriate songs to Donna not long ago, glanced and smirked. “Tha’s a Lady, not a used mule. D’other tell me, You’ve never been touched, huh?”
Salar slapped Donna’s head. “Answer the question, Trissa.” Clenching her eyelids, Donna nodded. “See… you can triple the price! The slums need frescoes.”
The auctioneer scratched his hair. “Donno, maybe I’ll get more if I sell it directly to the Feggero family. They are looking for a tutor for the children. And she has to be a lady, with manners and a smart, you know?¨.
“The Picasso are also looking for a fancy maid,” said a man from behind a filled desk. “They don’t want a low life at home. I suppose you read and write, but what else can you do? Any sewing, cooking? Do you know how to wash clothes? I guess not. Ladies don’t know about that. But you could learn that quickly, I suppose…”
“I only know how to make watches,” Donna said through her teeth. “My father is the watch-”
Shut up, Tissa!” Salar rushed to say. “Don’t talk nonsense! If you lie, I’ll have to cut out your tongue!”
The man on the desk stood up suddenly, throwing the chair to the floor. “What have you said?” He asked, astonished. Against Salar’s efforts to hide the truth, and with the insistence of the slaver’s clerk, Donna’s identity was revealed. For a moment, she believed the truth about her family name was the key to freedom, but greed over the clerk’s face made it clear being a Villiers meant nothing there.
“Give me a minute and I’ll get you the best price you can dream of for this one. One minute!” The clerk rushed out and the promised time turned into half an hour. Almost finished with the transactions on the block, the salesman came down to take her with him. When Donna was already halfway up and her hope was no more, the clerk returned, followed by a tall, broad individual covered in sawdust. “This one!” the clerk said. “Swear to my mother. You know we wouldn’t dare to scam you!”
With a large wingspan, the newcomer had to bend down so his dark, sweaty face was at Donna’s height. The man, a southerner with almond eyes, frowned, leaving his eyes almost completely closed. “If you are a Villiers, tell me. What’s the engraved symbol on the back your great-great-grandfather watches?”
“They had no marks,” she said. “My grandfather started the tradition of engraving a bird, and he did it inside the machine, not at the back. It was my father who decided to add the Family name there.”
The saw dusted man clapped and roared. “Damn, yes! I’ll take her. Marco will give you the money!”
Free from chains but with a thin copper collar on her neck declaring ownership, Donna walked away at a brisk pace, without being able to look at the scum that was laughing behind her back. The disappointment of her weakness hurt and, as she hurried to keep up with her new master’s quick pace, began to wonder if all the girls who bullied her were right.
After leaving the hideous slavers’ square, they ventured into an even more crowded street, if that could be even possible. Moving through became a challenge, and if it weren’t for her new master’s companion pushing aside passers by, Donna was sure she couldn’t have moved even a few feet. With her master striding ahead and his companion busy, she considered escaping for a first time. When her desire was almost an unstoppable decision, a corpulent and calloused hand grabbed and pulled down an alley.
She faced more people to avoid and more heat. The suffocation was unbearable. Almost out of her mind and with barely any fresh air, Donna became dizzy and staggered. “Careful girl,” said the master, who had knelt and reached to her neck. With a simple twist which seemed to require no strength, he bent the collar and threw it to the ground. “You won’t need this,” he said. “I have never owned a person and I never will. My name is AhShui, Watchmaster Villiers. Owner of the Fitzgerald & Shui shipyard.¨
Donna stuttered. “Am I… free?”
“Of course, Watchmaster,” AhShui said. “And when Marcus ready one of my ships we will send you home, now come. I just ask you for a little favour. To join me for tea at my brother-in-law’s store. He is a man I appreciate very much, and he’s passionate about your father’s work. I’d be delighted if you could honour him with a quick visit.”
Struggling to believe what had just happened. Donna stumbled, only able to turn the next corner with the help of Marcus’s hand. The next street was devoid of bustle but seemed just as full as the previous ones. From each of the stores stood out hundreds of tables, shelves, and tables overflowing with metal gadgets, dusty prosthesis and machines of dubious use. AhShui turned towards a small shop and disappeared into the darkness of its doorless but yet almost obstructed storefront. The venue was the most packed on the entire street, but by far the one with the most useless junk of all. If the other business were serving prosthesis of inferior quality this one did not make the slightest effort to hide the waste of its merchandise.
When Donna’s eyes, punished by the relentless sun of the red island, adjusted to the shady interior, AhShui was speaking in the background to a man staring at her with disbelief. He was equally corpulent and tall as AhShui but much stockier and somehow feminine. With each step she took, the more evident his trembling and sweating became. When she reached the counter, Ahshui’s brother-in-law stood firm and rubbed his entire face. “I am… I am AhWang, Master Villiers. At your service. May I offer you some tea, coffee? Water?”
“Water, if you don’t mind. And…” Donna dropped on a high stool and massaged her eyes. “Thank you for everything. I was… I thought…”
“It’s all in the past, Master Villiers.” AhShui said. “Tell me who else of your people were brought here and I’ll get my guys to look for them.”
Just an hour ago, Donna was about to be sold, with no hope for a future, and now she was drinking fresh-water, eating fish cakes, and writing down the names of all her servants, including Aventure, to be saved. After blurting out Lim’s name, Donna handed the paper over and AhShui excused himself. Alone with AhWang, she took advantage of a wet towel to prolong silence and rest. Her host let her be all she needed, and with some delight for life and social interactions recovered, Donna returned to a man staring at her like a child to a new toy. “So, you are a watchmaker yourself, mister AhWang?”
“Oh, no, no, no.” He stuttered. “I repair things here and there. But I’m a lover of automatas, yes. I have some work in the pantry. Maybe you’d have some time to see them? Oh, well, if you please, of course…and…and… The work your father does fascinates me, yes! There is no one on this street who could match him! What a significant loss his demise has been! All the wonder-masters were devastated! My condolences, of course.”
The shock on Donna’s face turned AhWang to the pale vision of a corpse.. “Oh… I thought… The bird news said the family left town after he passed… I am so sorry. Didn’t mean to bring such news to… I’m deeply… damn my mouth!”
Donna felt nauseated, and although tears rolled down her cheeks, she could not really find, among the sorrow of recent events, any ounce triggered by the demise of her old man. Her sadness, her repulse was only because of the lack of empathy towards him. A reaction against her own self. “What did the pigeon say?” she asked.
“Just that the Watchmaker of Mestra passed away in his lab.” AhWang said. “Family was travelling after the tragedy. We didn’t know you were caught by pirates until Oskar told my brother. ”
AhWang fidgeted, trying unsuccessfully to be reassuring. “Dear... I mean Master. Don’t worry. We will find the others and send you home. My brother-in-law is the richest man in the dry-docks and his fleet is enormous. As is his personnel. May take time to get them, but he will. He always does! Main time you can stay here if you please, or take a suitable room in the uptown inns. We will provide for your needs, my dearest, we will!”
Tears multiplied with the frustration of finding help without deserving. She had been freed by those strangers only because she was the daughter of a man she hated. Without asking for anything in return, a dealer of useless junk was going to pay for a very expensive trip to a home to which she did not want to return. And because of all this Donna felt desolated.
“Mister Awang,” she said, using the rough wiping of her tears to release the last remnants of frustration, anger, and despair. “I am not returning to Mestra, neither now nor after you free my people. Do you have a job for me? I will pay back their freedom and all my expenses with any wages you can give me.”
AhWang’s breath caught and, before the stolidity of Donna’s stubbornness, he blew it out with a subtle whistle of disbelief. “You are serious!... You really want to work for me? The …the WatchMaster of Mestra is going to be making watches here, with me!”
“If you want watches, I will make watches.” Donna extended an open hand. “But if AhShui can get me some books I left in the Gray Swallow, I’ll make for you much more than that.”