The next morning came, then the afternoon, and Mal was dozing lightly out of a lack of anything better to do when there was a commotion. She sat up and glanced out of her cage. There were several men and a few frighteningly burly women, and one unlocked her door and hauled her out. They escorted her to another room and locked her in with two of the women, who promptly began to tug her clothes off before practically throwing her into a tub of water.

It was too much of a luxury to have a bath again for her to complain about it, and she submitted to their attentions as they washed her hair and scrubbed her back. When they deemed her clean enough, they handed her what looked like two handcloths, and Mal held them up with a curious frown.

"What are these?"

"Your clothes," one of the women told her, and Mal laughed. "These are underclothes," she pointed out, as if this were a joke. "Can I have my trousers and tunic back?"

The bigger one with a face like a horse glared at her, and Mal swallowed. It wasn't a joke. She hurriedly tugged them on, and then tried to rearrange them to cover more skin, but it was a futile effort. These... whatever they were, they showed her stomach and legs and nearly every inch of markings on her, and she uncomfortably crossed her arms over her chest as the women looked her over.

"Good," the other said, then pushed her toward the door. She was ushered to a long line of people tied to a rope, and someone tied her own wrists in place. Devona was several spots in front of her, and Mal stared jealously at her floor-length shift and muttered epitaphs under her breath until the line began to move and they were led out into a very large room.

There were men milling about, and a few groups of people tied up around the room. One of the slavers untied her from the line and led her to a corner where a few other women were standing, and about that time Malorik decided she would have to be dragged out of here kicking and screaming. There was nothing she could have done when she was bound and caged, but right now she was hardly clothed and very, very angry. If she was going to be sold, she would be the worst slave that they'd ever had, and with this in mind she gave the slaver a very sharp kick to the knee.

Like a few of the others here Saul wore a black hooded domino, and he was surprised to see the number of people who were at ease with bare faces. It seemed only those fresh from Brindia still retained enough shame to conceal their identity. Until he'd learned what had become of Malorik he had not expected slavery to be so widely accepted in Guildsport that it did not hinder your image to be a known participant. Perhaps it was helped by the fact that no one who was not a participant would see you.

They stood in rows, silent or chatting, and Saul's skin crawled at how nonchalant these people were. Their organization indicated much practice, and he tried not to think about how much human flesh had changed hands here.

The slaves were led out in a line, tied together in a row, and the conversation around him lulled and then lifted again as they were sorted into three groups: women of work, men of work, and women of pleasure. There were no children, at least no children, though a few of the "women of pleasure" were barely older than girls. He spotted Devona as she was led to the far left. She walked slowly but steadily, neither holding up the line nor dragging it forward, and stood precisely where they arranged her. Saul decided at once that he would buy her as well and set her free. He could not conscience leaving someone he knew here with these wolves.

He was looking at Devona and thinking these thoughts and jumped when there was a commotion at the other side of the stage. One of the young women was struggling against her captor, and Saul smiled grimly. Fight, girl. It will do you no good, but fight. She kicked the man who led her in the knee, and he gave her a casual slap that turned her head and made her stumble with her back to the audience. There was a murmur of interest from the onlookers. The girl had tattoos along her upper arms that flowed like wings across her back. Her hair was medium brown and straight and fell just past her shoulders, and when she turned he looked her full in the face for several seconds before he recognized her.

Malorik.

Her keeper tied her in with the others and she glared after him and then stood taller and glared at the audience instead. There were chuckles from a few of the audience members and speculation on where she might be from and what kind of a slave she would make. Saul set his teeth and waited for the thing to begin.

The slavers began with the women of work. Each slave was brought forward and the bidding began. If the slave had special talents in the kitchen or in the house, these were listed. As the patrons bid the worker at the end of the row held up a hand, and when the bidding was finished the buyer was handed a receipt. The slave was brought to the holding pen to the side of the stage for payment and retrieval at the buyer's convenience. When they came to Devona it was only mentioned that she had been a Suna slave from birth, but that alone seemed to increase her value. Saul bid for her with several others and won, and wondered at the simplicity of it as he watched her led away. She went without protest or joy and did not even glance in his direction as some of the others had to see what her new master or mistress might be.

Not so Malorik.

By the time they reached the women of pleasure many of the bidders had been replaced by men who had interest only in the final group. Malorik was the second to be led up to the center, and she jerked at her lead. Ripples of outright laughter met her resistance now, and instead of hitting her again her guard just pulled her along and held her in place from behind while the bidding proceeded. She tossed her hair back and glared at them all.

Saul bid and bid again, and when it was over she had cost him almost three times what Devona had. When the bidding was closed Malorik sought him out and glared at him, and Saul made his way over to the holding pen. He handed his receipts to the guard, who led Devona out first. Malorik had a mutinous expression on her face, and the guard took note.

"Shall we tie her for you, master?" the man asked, insinuation heavy in his voice. "A bit of a fighter, that one."

Saul did not trust himself to speak and merely nodded, and Malorik was wrestled to the floor and tied hand and foot. The guard handed him a neatly wrapped package. "Her original costume, master," he said by way of explanation. "There are coaches by the back way, if you'd prefer." There was amusement in the man's voice now, amusement at Saul's obvious discomfiture, and he nodded again, eager to leave by any way. One of the guards hefted Malorik over his shoulder, and Saul took Devona's lead and pulled it gently. She came forward immediately, and he followed the guard out through the door the slaves had entered by.

There were coaches for hire here, and the guard piled Malorik's furious form into one of them and then put Devona into it more gently as well. Saul threw him a gold coin to make him go away and then turned to the driver.

It did no good, her rebellion. The man guarding her dragged her up to the stage and held her in place when it was her turn to be sold, and she glared at the audience like a furious queen. Some man in a black domino was the one who finally bought her, and when she was returned to the holding pen, she discovered that he had bought Devona as well, and her eyes narrowed.

Her guard noticed the look on her face, and he offered to tie her up for her buyer. She resisted him as she had the others, and he had to wrestle her down before he could bind her hand and foot and carry her out of the building.

She was thrown into a coach, and was already pulling at the ropes around her wrists when Devona was placed on the seat beside her. Mal moved as far away from the other woman as she could, and glared at her. "You've gotten me bought as a whore," she said furiously. "Now will you teach me to act as a slave instead of a noble?"

The coach door opened again, and she fell silent. Their buyer stepped in and sat opposite them, and she bared her teeth at him before drawing her feet up under her and turning her head away. She did not want to see him.

He turned to Malorik and started to reach for her hands to untie them and then looked at the fury on her face and thought better of it. He wanted a chance to explain himself without having to fight her off while he was doing it, and she might be more amenable to reason if she had more to gain by listening.

Her clothing left little to the imagination. Though he generally felt no compunction about looking at women in scant or no clothing, it seemed indecent somehow to look at this one when he had seen her in battle. It made him feel slightly like he was looking at one of his men in desire, and he hurriedly stripped off the hooded domino cloak and draped it over her nearly naked form.

The movement brought him close to her, and she stared at his face. She hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been him, and she gaped openly at the mercenary captain as he sat back and looked her over.

"Are you injured?"

He nodded and cut the ropes, and when she lifted her feet he cut those bonds too. She wiggled her fingers and then rubbed her wrists, sighing with relief. It felt so good to be free from cages and ties, and she stretched a little before drawing the cloak around her and curling more comfortably on the seat.

First a bountied run, Varn, and now this?

"Devona." She brought her head up and kept her eyes down. "Is this woman a courier?"

"I do not know," said Devona in a transparent voice, devoid of any will.

That set him back a moment. "Are you a courier?" he asked.

Devona paused. "I was."

"What were you carrying?" asked Saul, beginning to lose his patience.

"A girl," answered Devona, "but she is dead."

"You do not have to remind me what a precarious position I am in, especially when you are responsible for placing me there." She glared at him then, and glanced briefly toward the door, but he had locked it and he was right. She had nothing right now, and he was giving her a very generous offer. Pride told her to refuse his concession, but rationality quickly reminded her that once she lead him to the box, her part of the bargain was completed, and there was an edge to her smile this time.

The floor was rough beneath her bare feet, and she wriggled her toes in irritation and looked at him expectantly. "My boots?" she asked, her tone hopeful, and he turned to dig around in a satchel near the bed. She was surprised that he had kept them, but said nothing, and when he tossed them at her sat down on the floor and put them on.

He was watching her, and she looked up at him closely. She wanted to say something, but wasn't certain what, and settled for a question instead.

"What's your name?" she asked, and he slowed for a minute and then continued. He hadn't remembered that she didn't know his name.

"I doubt they will find a buyer, and not without considerable difficulty," she told him confidently. "I don't run anything that isn't valuable or important. Though you seem to disbelieve that," she added, with a small scowl, and then waved a hand at him. "Go ahead with your business. I will stay here with Devona until you return."

He nodded, and she got up and stepped over to where Devona stood. The woman had said nothing further after Saul's questions in the coach, and she didn't look up when Malorik approached her. Mal touched her shoulder gently, and bent down to glance at her face, but her expression was blank and she sighed.

"Tell her nothing of me," she said softly. "Tell her that her mother is dead and that she holds her title, and if she values her life she will not return to Sunan."