Chapter 4

Cat

How humiliating; Cat thought as she stood in line with other filthy slaves, chains attached to apparently seamless Iron Collars linking all the slaves together in long lines. Each female slave including Cat herself, wore simple sack cloth dress, bound at the waist with a coarse rope belt to show a little of the form beneath. The men wore only loincloths to show off their physique, or at least the ones that had decent muscles, some were little more than flesh and bone.

Five years of surviving on my own, five years of stealing for my bread and fighting for a roof over my head, all to end up the same as my parents. Cat fought to keep tears of frustration, anger, humiliation and, if she admitted it to herself, fear from leaking from her eyes. She didn’t survive five years of living on the streets by being a weepy little child. It wasn’t easy when prospective buyers walked down the lines of slaves, poking and prodding each prospective purchase and in some cases even checking the teeth of some. The worse were the brothel owners or agents; fondling breasts, pinching hips, grabbing bottoms, even checking behind the loin cloths of the male slaves.

Those buyers were especially interested in girls like Cat; they had a cheap patch sewn on their dresses of a closed flower bud. These girls were still virginal and were bought for the highest sums.

When one of the Agents from the city of Lundness far to the north, you could tell by his clothes, tried to check Cats teeth after fondling her budding breasts, slapped her bottom and even checked her for tightness, Cat sunk her white teeth into the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. The man jerked his hand away with a yell, tearing the flesh in the process and squirting blood in Cats mouth and on her face. With his other hand he back handed her, not too hard but enough to cause some bruising. Cat spat the man’s blood in his face and then grinned, blood dripping off her chin. He wiped the blood off his face and wrapped his hand in a cloth from his pocket.

“You had better pray that I’m not the one who wins your bid girl, I have just the client in mind for you.” His tone dark and forbidding, “You might not survive the experience.” He then walked down the line inspecting other slaves, occasionally glancing back to look at Cat; she noticed he was much more careful checking the teeth of other slaves further down the line.

Cat’s cheeks hurt a bit, totally worth it, she thought to herself as she wiped his salty and metallic blood from her lips and chin. I dare anyone to try to make me some one’s sex slave, ill rip off his rod and shove it down his throat. I’ll kill myself before I get used like that. She thought, setting her jaw in fierce determination.

After a couple candle marks of standing in the hot sun, the iron collars becoming unbearably hot and the stench of unwashed bodies growing strong, the auction began. A man in officious looking robes stood on a platform as slaves were brought up one at a time. Bids came quickly on some of the more choice specimens, the ones that looked like they could put in heavy labor, or were comely enough to work as a house slave. The quickest were the beautiful ones, they sold for gold, and the most beautiful the bids rose fast and high, the highest was well over six gold marks!

Eventually it was Cat’s turn to be pushed up to the platform. She could see thirty or forty richly dressed men and women sitting in cushioned wooden chairs beneath a shaded awning with slaves or servants bringing them cooling drinks. They lounged in comfort while the slaves they intended to buy drooped in the heat. Cat looked over the slave ranks; over half had been sold by this time, looking for any sign of Irnoc. She saw Irnoc get knock on the head by the burley guard when they were caught and brought before Bashhar, who had come home early beyond all reasonable expectation.

Cat was worried about Irnoc, she thought he was still breathing but couldn’t be sure, she wasn’t allowed to check on him before she was grabbed and made to stand before Justice Bashhar. His round fat face was purple with rage, his second and third chin quivered with the anger he barely held in check as he looked at Cat. His layers of silken robes tried but failed to conceal the bulk he gained from his excessive indulgences that came from the bribes and his cut of his slavery verdicts. He grew fat on the suffering of the poor and the “donations” from the rich seeking favor. This was the man that forced her kind, hard working parents to the slave pens; leaving their daughter Catharine to die like many others in the cruel streets.

In a cold hard tone Bashhar asked his guard “Is this all of them, were there any other filthy vermin violating my manor?”

“No sir, this seems to be all of them. The other guards are making a thorough sweep now just to be sure” the guard replied. “If there are any more of these rats” he said this and gave cat a rough shake “we will find them. What do you want us to do with these two, sir?”

Cat felt the cold hard eyes of the Justice rove over her from her dirty matted hair to her filthy bare feet, toughened from years running barefoot in the streets. She felt her skin crawl at his gaze. Of all the evil I’ve heard this man commit or order to be done, I’ve never heard that he likes little girls. Please don’t let him like little girls. Cat thought with a shiver of fear run down her spine.

When Bashhar glanced over at Irnoc, he said to his guard “take that one to one of the Cells in the Cellar, if he survives I know a man that will take him off my hands for a reasonable price, no need to go through the slave market and only get a cut with this one, I doubt he would fetch much anyways.” When his gaze returned to Cat he told his guard “Shackle the girls hands and feet, then after you put that one in a cell, have the Physician come to me here. We will have him examine this one, if she is what I think she is; she will bring in a tidy sum.”

“Yes sir, Right away Sir.” And he proceeded to shackle Cat then toss Irnoc over his shoulder like a sack of grain and without any strain strode out of the parlor, Irnoc dangling limply from his shoulders.

“What are you going to do to me you swine,” Cat said with a growl “if he is dead I am going to tear off your..” before she could finish, the justice smacked her across the face, sending her to the floor, knocking over and shattering what seemed like a very expensive large vase with some dried flowers and things sticking out of it.

He stood over Cat, She could remember the aura of menace this man held as he stood over her, looming like a mountain about to collapse on her and bury her forever. “If you do not remain silent, I will break your arms and legs, beat you bloody and leave you in the Desert for that carrion crows and the giant scorpions to feast on your flesh while you still breathe.” Cat heard in his tone that he meant every word of it, and might do even worse to her before leaving her to be eaten alive, she decided to remain silent.

In less than a quarter Candle mark, the Justices physician came to the parlor, Cat could see that he was a moderately old man, maybe in his fifties, wearing white cotton robes, had long greying brown hair and a pair of wire glasses perched on his long beak like nose. . Bashhar sat on his cushy sofa, drinking wine. His face had returned to its normal creamy brown while I lay near the shards of the broken vase. “You called for me Justice Bashhar?” he asked.

“Yes my good man. I need you to examine this child.”

“Examine? Anything in particular I should be looking for” the physician asked.

“Yes, examine. This piece of trash decided to break into my home, and rob me of all my hard earned wealth. I want you to examine her and see if she is still untouched. I would say unsullied, but just look at the miserable little beast.”

“I see sir; you wish to know if the child is still virginal. Is this for your personal satisfaction, or for business?” the physician said this last word with a flat tone. Cat could tell he didn’t approve of selling children to whore houses, but would be unwilling to do more than that, just disapprove.

Stolen novel; please report.

“Yes, yes just get on with it will you” Bashhar said impatiently.

“As you wish” and he turned towards Cat.

“SOLD” the auctioneer cried “for twelve gold and three silver marks”. Cat looked up with a start, she had fallen to the same habit Irnoc had, drifting off in thought. Now she understood why, when you have something horrible happen, it just pulls you back before you realize it. Cat’s eyes scanned the crowd, looking to see who had purchased her, her eyes locked to the man with the bandaged hand. A venomous grin was stretched across his grim face, and the light of vengeance shining in his eyes. Cat shuddered, there wasn’t likely to be any way this man would be stupid enough or careless enough to leave any opportunity for a newly won slave, a slave that cost him four gold marks and three silver. That’s four to five months income for a laborer, one or two month’s income for a craftsman.

Another muscle bound, gorilla of a man took Cat off of the platform and led her off to another area of the slave pen. He hooked the chain attached to her collar to that of five other women, each was at the least very pretty, and a few were exotic to Cats eyes. One woman, a little over five feet tall, had strait raven black hair, and tilted eyes. She was slim and delicate looking. Each woman had either a resigned look on their face, like they have given up all hope, or the tear streaked face of those who had realized what they were going to be used for and didn’t want to believe it. Cat Tugged at the chain attached to her collar with futility. It was attached with a lock, and she didn’t have any picks, and couldn’t see anything that could be used as one anywhere nearby.

Following the chains from one woman to another with her eyes, Cat saw that she was the youngest one here, the rest were grown women. Continuing to follow the links of chain from one woman to the next, Cat saw that at the last woman, the chain was attached to a large chunk of grey stone; it had to be as tall as a goat, and almost perfectly squared. It had to weigh at least two tons, no way the six of them would be able to budge it. With nothing better to do, Cat sat down to wait and think, of what fate has befallen her best friend and what fate had instore for her.

After another candle mark or so, the man bought two more slaves, another young woman, at least three or four years older than Cat and fairly well endowed, and a very soft and somewhat feminine man, he looked a bit boyish but was full grown, no well-defined muscles, but not overweight either. He had one of those bleak expressions too.

Once all of the slaves were gathered the Agent detached the chain with a key that he placed in his belt pouch, he saw Cat watching him carefully and gave her a hard smile as he placed it back around his neck and tucked it under his tunic. His three, well-armed, guards surrounded us, one on either side of the line and one bringing up the rear, so there was no chance at escaping, especially with eight slaves all chained to each other. No one slave could run and all the slaves would have to coordinate to make a break for it. After seeing the slaves around her, Cat knew there would be no chance of that. Most have had their spirit broken already and followed meekly.

After gathering up the chain, he looked at all of the slaves and said “follow me nice and quietly and no one gets punished. But if just one of you makes any trouble, all of you will be whipped and deprived of food and water for a full day. If anyone makes trouble after that, you get lashed again and get lashed to the sail mast, naked, in full view of everyone, no protection from the sun, and no food or water.” He looked into each and every one’s eyes before continuing. “if that isn’t enough deterrent, and you insist on making things difficult, well I’ll just have to take a loss on you. I’ll slice your arms and legs, cut open your belly and throw you overboard. That much blood in the water will bring every shark for leagues around. And every other slave will watch as you are ripped apart and eaten alive, do I make myself clear.” That last statement was said in a tone as cold and sharp as a razorblade. The slaves all shuddered and gave slow nods, unable to break eye contact in their fear.

After holding their gaze for a long moment he smiled again and said in a lighter tone “With that settled; if you all behave well, you will be treated well. Good food, plenty of water and no beatings or whipping. It can be a pleasant voyage for everyone here.”

“And you might even enjoy your new occupation” he added with a chuckle.

With all the slaves sufficiently cowed, he led everyone through the edge of the warrens to the docks a short distance away. Once they arrived at the docks; the man spoke to the dock master, a solidly built man, grey in his full beard and four thin ropes sewn to his officer’s jacket on each of his shoulders, so that they curved down the contours of his muscled upper arm. They spoke for a moment; a coin pouch was passed from the man to the dock master. The dock master turned to his assistant who held a portable writing desk, scribbled something down and dripped some hot wax to the bottom before pressing the seal of office that hung around his neck to it. Once the wax dried he rolled it, tied it with a red edged blue ribbon and handed it to the man.

With scroll in hand the man led us to a large ship with two masts. A ramp extended from a gap in the railings at least ten feet above the level of the dock. He spoke quietly to a sailor standing at the foot of the ramp, Cat couldn’t make out what they were saying over the sounds of the water, the creaking of wood, and the sounds of shouting men, cargo being hauled on and off other ships and all the other noise that made up the din on the wide expanse of docks. After a few gestures to the slaves and guards, the sailor at the foot of the ramp shouted to the ship “Captain Mr. Elmersson is here with his Cargo and ready to board”

After a few moments a grizzled and tough looking sailor with a sharply defined brown sailors jacket, with the symbol of a Merchant ship’s Captain on his breast appeared at the top of the ramp. “Come aboard, Mr. Elmersson, accommodations for yea yer men and yer cargo are all arranged.” His voice was roughened from years of salty air and shouting orders to his crew, the sun and wind made his face look like leather and he had a perpetual squint to his eyes.

Mr. Elmersson, as Cat now new his name to be, led everyone up to the deck and handed another pouch that jingled with coins to the captain. He personally took Cat and the other slaves below deck, guided by one of the many crewmen working about the deck; they all wore brown leather vests, no shirt, baggy tan pants that was secured by a brown sash at the waist and gathered in at the ankles. Their bare feet making soft slapping sounds as they ran about the deck, doing whatever mysterious tasks sailors did while at port.

It was pitch black below the deck, after the bright light of afternoon sky. It took a few minutes for everyone’s eyes to adjust to the relatively dim lights of the lanterns attached to swivels in the beams. The sailor gestured to two of the doors alone one side of the hall they were in and said “Sir, these will be the lodgings for you and your men. The one on the left is yours with a nice feather mattress, and the other holds four bunks your men can use.” And gesturing further down the hall to what appeared to be another staircase heading down another level, “and if you would be so kind as to follow me I will take you to the secure location you can stow your cargo” and at the man’s small nod, gave a slight bow and led them to the stairs.

The belly of the ship was somewhat damp, not surprisingly since it was below the water line, it was dimmer than the first level but everyone could see well enough. They were led to an area of the hold that was sectioned off with iron bars and about ten hammocks strung up between the walls of the inner hull and the bars of the cell in five rows, with two hammocks in each row, one over the other. . Each slave, one by one was detached from the group, led in and their chain was latched to one of the iron bars next to a hammock, leaving about six feet of slack for the slave to be able to move about. Each row of hammocks had two buckets on the floor next to it; one held water and the other was empty. It wasn’t hard to figure out what the other bucket was for. The wood in the cell was sanded smooth, and aside from the hammocks and the buckets, there was nothing in the cell. The bars were firmly seated and bolted to the ceiling and floor and when cat gave it an experimental wiggle, it had no give at all. With a sigh Cat climbed into the top hammock in her row and settled in to wait.

Once they were out to sea there would be next to no opportunity to escape, unless she wanted to try to swim the ocean when she had never been in more water than it took to take the weekly bath when she was younger, and fight the sharks and other terrible beasts that are said to inhabit the seas. Cat closed her eyes and, even though she wasn’t very religious, spoke a silent prayer to Quintar, the god of the sea, father of all that dwelt within the seas for a safe and swift voyage, and hoped she could find a way to escape once they arrived.

Twice a day they brought fresh food, some kind of porridge, with bits of smoked fish and pieces of dried fruit for breakfast, fried fish usually with a serving of some fruit or vegetable and a bread roll for diner, refilled the water buckets every morning, and emptied the waste buckets at the same time. This continued day in and day out for the five days the voyage took, the slaves in Cats cell didn’t talk to one another, and the sailors didn’t say a word to her after the first day when the slaves were told the schedule for food water and waste removal, they didn’t even make eye contact with anyone in chains. It was a long quiet voyage, with too much time to think and remember.