Bought (4 page)

Bethany was ushered into a small room with a
long trough of water and thin towels. The woman prodded them into
position with her own staff.

“Off wiff 'em rags,” she ordered.

Bethany glanced around, seeing the others
begin to pull their clothing off. She swallowed the lump in her
throat. She had been raised to be a modest, private person, as all
her siblings had. Even those not of royal blood in Tokë were
modest. No one was permitted to see her naked, not even her maids.
That honor was saved for her spouse.

“What'd Ah jes say?” slurred the woman as she
jabbed Bethany in the back with her stick.

“Please, ma'am,” Bethany begged, trying to
put as much deference into her voice as she could, desperation
forcing her to be diplomatic. “May I have some privacy?”

Bethany glanced at the other slaves, hoping
for their support. They had stopped in their efforts and were
watching the confrontation. Their eyes grew wide, just as Bethany
felt a blow to her side hard enough to knock the air from her
lunges. She doubled over, wrapping her arms around her filthy
stomach.

“Ye'll git nak'd right here an' now, an'
clean yerself good, ye hear!” snapped the plump woman.

Bethany blinked the tears from her eyes and
with shaking fingers began pulling at the laces of her gown. She
forced her eyes to stay focused on her own task, refusing to be
witness to the other people's shame. She just hoped they'd do the
same for her. The hum she heard from the man next to her suggested
otherwise, but he was quickly silence by a hard jab from the
woman's staff.

She didn't try to wipe the tears from her
cheeks as she pulled the sodden dress from her body. Though she had
experienced horrors beyond her wildest dreams during the last month
of captivity, this new degradation was a distinct breaking point.
With her gown, she discarded the last hope of ever returning to the
life she had known. No man would marry her now that this gift had
been stolen by another. Not only would she never marry, but she
would never fulfill the one role she had been raised to do: bring
wealth and alliance to her family through marriage.

While they cleansed themselves with pungent
smelling powder and filmy water, another woman entered and removed
their discarded robes. When they were finished, thin unisex
garments were slipped over their heads and bound to their waists by
worn leather belts. The one given to Bethany was too long and she
found herself tripping over its hem.

Finally, the row of newly-dressed slaves were
led out of the bathing room and back into the courtyard, which had
begun to fill with wealthy men dressed in warm furs despite being
the middle of May. The slavers herded them up onto a rickety
platform, made more unstable by the fierce wind. Bethany began to
wonder what torment they would invent for her next when one of the
slavers lifted his hands and the noisy crowd grew silent.

After a short introduction, the bidding
began.

Cal walked along side Éimhin as he entered
the sprawling city of Tolad. The city spread out over numerous
hills and valleys in a wide swath surrounded by the peaks of the
Southern Mountains. Even in May, the mountain city was cold with a
sharp wind that came down off the snow-covered mountains. Cal had
begun to sweat on the last trek up the mountain side, but as the
ground leveled off and the wind swept through the streets, he felt
the liquid cause his skin to sting.

The scarred knight was just beginning to near
the castle itself when he heard a loud voice call his name.

“Cal is that you?” asked the recognizable
voice.

Cal turned to see Prince Féderic Eberhand,
eldest son of King Wolfric, approaching on his sleek horse. Fed
always did prefer speed over power. As much as Cal despised the
prince, he had to admit Federic was a handsome man, with sunny
blond hair that nearly reached his shoulders, a long formidable
nose that somehow didn’t over power his face, and thick muscles.
Though Cal didn’t try to eaves-drop as a rule, he had often heard
the women of court fawn over the prince’s good looks. And Fed was a
master at using his charm. Cal knew the prince had enjoyed
countless encounters of the sexual variety with nearly every woman
of court, married or single.

In his younger days Cal would have felt as
certain admiration for the prince. Now he just found him
annoying.

“You’re back!” said Fed as he pulled his
horse to a stop.

Beyond the prince, Cal spotted the prince’s
attendants following at a comfortable distance.

“Indeed, my lord. Just arrived.”

“I’m going to the slave market. Join me.”

It wasn’t a request. Though Cal would have
much rather returned to the castle and relaxed, he obediently
mounted his horse and followed Féderic to the nearby slave market.
The crowd was thick as Cal entered behind the prince. The buyers
deferentially stepped out of the way, allowing the pompous prince
to ride right up to the platform where the unsold slaves stood,
shaking in the wind.

Cal dismounted at the back of the crowd,
handing Éimhin’s reins over to an unwary worker. The worker hadn’t
made it three steps before Éimhin took a chunk of flesh from the
man’s shoulder. Sir Caldry chuckled to himself as he weaved his way
through the crowd toward the platform.

Fed was just dismounting when Cal reached his
side.

“Prince Federic,” groveled the head slaver.
“How may I serve you?”

“I'm looking for a maid servant—a pretty
one,” he added as his eyes ran across the mass of huddled
bodies.

“All women step forward,” barked the
slaver.

Cal glanced up, immediately noticing one thin
woman hidden behind one of the men, her eyes focused resolutely on
the wooden slats of the platform. The slaver noticed her too and
quickly dragged her to the very edge of the platform. Féderic
climbed the stairs to the platform, oblivious to the fact that his
presence had completely halted the sale; the other buyers stood
back silently, waiting for the prince to make his choice.

Féderic’s eyes shifted to the woman who had
tried to hide, a smile forming on his lips. He sauntered to where
she stood, occasionally stopping to look at another woman as he
passed. Cal forced his attention onto the young woman. Something
about her looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly say what.

She was thin, too thin in his opinion. He
liked women who didn’t look as though the lightest puff of wind
would knock them off their feet, but this was a usual look for
slaves. Most of the slaves standing on the platform looked
underfed.

Féderic reached the girl’s side and stalked
slowly around her, his eyes running up and down her thin frame. Fed
grabbed a swath of her matted hair and lifted it away from her neck
before running his hand down her neck and shoulders, feeling the
atrophied muscles and shape of the bones.

Cal smiled as he spotted the woman straighten
her spine, as though she were determined not to be broken by the
degrading experience of being purchased. The prince motioned for
her to open her mouth, but she refused. Cal’s smile increased. He
liked the fire he saw in her stormy gray eyes, though he knew it
might one day be the death of her.

Fed ignored her obstinacy and shoved a finger
into her mouth, making sure she still had all her teeth. Once he
had finished examining her mouth, he grabbed her hair and gave it a
jerk until she looked up at him. From his position, Cal couldn’t
see the look on the prince’s face, but he wasn’t surprised to hear
Fed say:

“I’ll take her. Pay the man.”

Bethany stared up at the prince. What had
just happened? her mind screamed.

They had tied her hands, attaching the lead
to one of the attendants’ horses before her mind could work through
it. She had been sold to this man, and he wasn’t just any man. He
was a prince of Tolad, a son of King Wolfric.

Princess Bethany Kavadh was the property of
Prince Féderic Eberhand, the heir to her family’s greatest
enemy.

To Bethany’s astonishment, she found a new
reason to cry as she followed the horse through the prosperous city
of Tolad.

Look for the continuation of Bethany and
Cal’s story in Torn;

Book 1 of the Dothan Chronicles.

Whether you enjoyed their story or not,

Please consider writing a review to help
other readers make an informed choice.

Thank you.

Follow Charissa Dufour

https://www.facebook.com/Charissadufourauthor

https://twitter.com/CharissaDufour