Chapter Fifty-Four

“And that’s everything.” Brotus remarked as he finished the explanation, it was excellently timed, because his mouth dropped open as he saw the elven woman toss aside her garment. She struck pose after pose to the appreciation of the crowd.

“Even if you can’t afford to buy one, it’s always fun to watch. Besides, when they buy one for a brothel, the new owner always announces which one they’re at. Renting is cheaper than buying, but buying is far more profitable.” Amberose said with a chuckle as he guided the young man forward.

“Show your back.” The seller said, and the naked elf turned around, she stiffened a little when his spread fingers touched between her shoulder blades and moved all the way down to her lower back. “See? Not a whip mark to be found. She’s docile as a doe, and very energetic.” The seller snapped his fingers and off to one side, a drummer boy began to play his little drum in a steady, rhythm.

Like she knew what to expect, she began to prance and hop and leap to show how vigorous she could be, and while she pranced about the stage to the ever-faster rhythm of the drum, the auctioneer announced her other skills. “She’s a competent cook, and has had only one child before.”

The auctioneer snapped his fingers, and the drum stopped, and with it, the elf stopped moving, again straightening up and standing before the mob. “Bidding starts at one gold piece.”

Brotus shivered and nearly raised his hand each time as he took in the radiance of the elven woman who stood with stoic resignation, staring straight ahead, above the mob as if she were not really there. Each time he nearly made his bid, his master’s uncle tensed the hand he held on Brotus’s arm.

“You don’t have enough money for that, m’boy. Not yet. Don’t dig yourself into debt. My nephew may be soft hearted, but he’s not so soft he’ll pay off a debt you put yourself into over nothing. See, watch.” Amberose whispered roughly into Brotus’s ear and pointed to another booth that had been set up nearby that, until then, had seen no patrons. It had a pair of black armored guards that were anything but inviting. Yet now that the bidding was going on, people approached the booth.

“Lenders from the Master of Coin for the city. They lend money to business minded people or private citizens at a small interest rate… well, small for business. For personal use it’s much more. About seven out of every ten default on their debts and become part of the city’s labor force to work it off. The ones who run, end up there.” He inclined his head toward the gallows that had become a ‘stage.’ “Those fools are borrowing money on the spot to bid on her.” He explained, “They’ll never win. Anyone who has to borrow money to buy a whore doesn’t have the money to pay it back. Even if they did win, she’d be back up there as soon as they default on the loan.”

“Couldn’t they just put her in a brothel of their own or… no, no they couldn’t, could they?” Brotus guessed, and Amberose got a twinkle in his eye.

“Good thinking, boy, that trade is controlled by the lanista’s guild. If you try to open up a brothel without being a member, or even just whore one out on your own for some extra coins?” He let out a bark of brutal laughter that sent chills down Brotus’s spine, “I dare say you’d be in front of the magistrate before her first client’s session was over… the first time. You wouldn’t want there to be a second, because there wouldn’t be a third.”

Brotus began to get the picture of the city very clearly, and when the bidding was done, to his shock, the woman went for seventy-five gold coins, an outrageous sum in his mind.

She moved toward the edge of the stage and descended down the steps where a pimple faced young boy in fancy, frilled clothes was practically panting beside a towering, older man in equally fine clothing. At their back was a bodyguard in boiled leather armor who dwarfed them both.

It wasn’t hard to figure out why she’d been acquired, but Brotus spent not a moment on that. “Do they really make that much money? What’s the net per sale?” He asked the practical question, and Amberose chuckled.

“My nephew is at least a good teacher. That one probably made him double her cost. For ones taken in battle, a sale like that is triple, and since he’s in the guild, if she ended up in a brothel instead of that man’s home, he’d get a ‘consideration’ from the lanista who acquired her.”

“A consideration… wait, like a bribe?” Brotus asked, that had no appeal to him.

“No, no, no. A bribe would be unethical.” Amberose said with a little smirk. “The ‘consideration’ would be to let them get an early look at his future stock so they can plan their bids accordingly. The guild members try not to undercut each other. It’s all very well ordered, and they work closely with the Slavers Guild.

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The next was an expecting mother who held her hands protectively over her belly and waited while the auctioneer explained that she was on her third, describing her crudely as a ‘long term investment.’

Then it was elves taken in battle with visible scars from a fight that hadn’t ended favorably…

Then it was young children, elf, and half elf alike.

“Watch the crowd as much as the stage, boy.” Amberose instructed, and Brotus obeyed, listening to the bids as the auctioning slavers took in more wealth in a few hours than his year of work as Master Corwin’s apprentice.

But all that still begged a question, “Why show me all this, master Amberose?” Brotus asked.

“Because, young man, my nephew may be family, but he’s a fool in his own way. A family is a business, and my nephew has no sons to carry it on. I have two daughters, as does he, but while the adventurer’s guild will let in women at any level, the merchant’s guild will not. They could never be more than associates unless they marry a senior member. I’m not as young as I look,” he chuckled in a self-effacing way and patted his own girthy body, “I’ll need somebody to handle our whole enterprise when my nephew and I are gone. Someone who can preserve it, and who can expand it. Do you take my meaning?”

“Sold!” The auctioneer shouted, and an elven woman fell to her knees inside the cage, weeping while waiting her turn, watching what could only have been her son being led off the stage to be handed over to his buyer, never to be seen again.

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Speranzi felt the stone crumble in her grip, despite not using one of her skills to enhance her strength. Mother ripped from child, husband from wife, the trade in misery continued while she could only grit her teeth and watch. Elven women and men hopped about in obscene displays of bare flesh meant only for loving eyes, and were leered at or mocked between bids.

She paused when the back of an elven mine worker was put on display, showing that he had few scars, and always the auctioneer’s hand was held up after stroking the skin. Between her growing rage was the confusion of why he was doing it, until a passerby answered the question for her when speaking to someone else. “See, no makeup to hide any marks, I told you this one makes only honest sales, a true man of the gods…”

‘You are a paladin! You can’t stand by and just… watch this!’ Speranzi shouted in her mind, the memory of pain in her own back as she was struck by the lash was still heavy on her mind. ‘Coward!’ She judged herself in a rage as she watched and listened to a desperate father…

“Buy my wife and children too! Please… Please don’t separate us!” An elven male begged as he was led, half dragged by one arm, manhood dangling and flopping around as he was guided toward the steps, his eyes back over toward a woman of his race who bit her lip and clung with fingers white with tension to a pair of young ones who looked to be about the age of ten-year-old humans.

“I beg you!” He managed to shout before a dirty rag was shoved into his open mouth and practiced working hands secured a collar to his neck and secured him to a long chain where several others bought by the same man stood idle and listless in their waiting.

Speranzi’s words came back to her mind. ‘That doesn’t sound so bad.’ And never in her life had such a well of hatred for herself come up as in that moment. “This isn’t what I fought for… this isn’t why I praised the gods… this isn’t my idea of justice…” She felt the stone in the grip of her hands crumble into smaller pieces, and every fiber of herself cried out to act.

‘The last time I did that, what did I get for my trouble… I was lashed and nothing changed. Attacking or demanding those slaves be released… I’ll just face dozens of guards with unawakened divine blood no different than mine, and even I can’t win there. I’ll just die and accomplish nothing…’ The answer was obvious as she thought about it.

‘The gods will favor me, and when I win… what?’ She asked herself, ‘Would the Holy City amend its ways? Would they lighten the burdens on the slaves, or liberate them all?’

She looked at the stage where the rich mined gold from flesh, those who were counted beautiful, cursed their bodies, and stared like zombies as they were shuffled into carts and wagons bearing the names of the brothels where the crossing of the line between life and death was a blur and the desire for both lived in the same mind.

‘Even you aren’t that naive.’ Speranzi criticized herself, the interests of the rich were clearly entrenched, even challenging doctrine by combat, if it was honored… ‘Will they simply ignore me, assassinate me… deny that it ever happened…?’

Corwin’s inaction began to make more sense. ‘What can one person do against a system this large…?’

“I can speak against it at least… even if they won’t let me challenge doctrine, I can’t be the only one to see this as just… wrong!” She spoke through gritted teeth and watched as the gagged father’s face went from relief as his children were purchased by the same man… to despair as their mother was guided to the waiting hand of a stern, matronly looking woman of older years who yanked her away as soon as collars and chains were affixed without giving them so much as a chance to say farewell.

Speranzi watched the crowd and saw as some… not all… not nearly enough… looked away from the scene of separation.

She sat through every single sale, and frequently her mind turned back to Illyana, the radiant elven woman’s listless eyes and wooden stare breaking only when fear grew too great to master… and again she appreciated the wisdom of Corwin Amber.

‘He can’t change everything, so he changed ‘something.’ Sensible.’ She told herself, and any lingering doubts were removed from her mind. ‘I’ll say nothing to the authorities and forbid my soldiers from doing so either. Elf labor is common, nobody will look twice. And when it’s time to leave, I’ll buy Illyana and take her out of here, one way or the other…’ When the crowd began to dissipate, Speranzi hopped off the wall and scattered the little broken pebbles around her feet before starting the walk back to what she was now thinking of as a gilded hell.