I notice the hint of satisfaction in the curl of the dealer’s lips as he directs his stage hands to take the slave off the stage and into the ‘sold’ section. Clearly, it’s a decent price by his standards. The expression makes my stomach queasy.

  Logically, I know that it’s how this world works. Logically, I can’t blame someone for making a living out of something that is completely socially acceptable. But my emotions aren’t logical. I reckon that I’d now find animal auctions unpleasant, since building Bonds with so many beings who have demonstrated just how sentient they are and how sapient they can become in the right conditions.

  But human auctions are just that much worse. I suppose because I can all too easily imagine myself in the place of those poor bastards there. I might never have committed any serious crimes, but I’ve broken the speed limit on occasion, and who knows what other laws I’ve broken without even knowing it.

  I remind myself about why I’m here. If I have my way, these kinds of auctions will become a thing of the past – as they are back on Earth. Legally, anyway.

  The next person to be on the block is one of the more muscular men. Though he’d been staring defiantly at the potential buyers before, I can see that his attitude is faltering, revealing the fear beneath. I force my jaw to relax before I crack my teeth.

  Not distracted this time by trying to explain an auction to my companions, I hear as the organiser first relates some good points – his strength, his history as a guard and then a farm worker. He gives the reason for his sale – apparently, the end of the planting season meant that he was surplus to requirements. After the organiser has waxed loudly on what the slave on the stage can offer, he then goes on to briefly cover the slave’s original crimes – theft and assault, in this case. This bit is related much more quietly and quickly than the other points.

  Does the dealer have to be honest about all of this? I ask the two who are likely to know.

  This one probably is, Alyna answers. She’s put on an excellent mask of nonchalance, but I can feel the nerves that underlie it. In a city like this, the lawmen are too close to risk a customer finding out a lie and making a complaint. That doesn’t mean they won’t ‘forget’ to mention certain details, though – no one’s sold at this kind of auction unless they’ve got problems.

  Alyna has a point, Loran agrees, his mental voice still quiet. If they were a good buy, they’d be on the lists instead. Maybe he doesn’t follow orders. Maybe he’s got an injury they’re not mentioning. Or maybe he’s slow in the head or more vicious than normal.

  I see, I muse. I take it that they are required to give the crimes – is it likely they’ll ‘forget’ to mention details there?

  Not unless they want to risk the collar themselves, Loran replies, a hint of savagery in his tone. I met a slave who slipped up and let on that he had been a crooked slave merchant. He was found the next morning, hanging from the rafters. Killed himself, everyone said.

  I can read between the lines. I wonder how the master felt about his slaves administering their own version of justice. I bet lawmen don’t last very long either, if they ever break the law they’re supposed to protect.

  The starting bid for this man is a little lower than for the woman – twelve silvers, which is again a fraction of his original contract price of three golders.

  Even though the man is clearly strong and physically capable, the bidding is more lacklustre than over the previous woman. Perhaps she had some skills that I missed that this man doesn’t. In the end, it only rises to fifty-three silvers by the time the bidding falls to a single person again and the dealer starts calling it.

  Once more, I take up the challenge when all others have fallen away. This time, the person drives me up another ten silvers before he decides to give it up as a bad job. Perhaps he didn’t want to risk being landed with the cost if I decide not to continue.

  Are there any rules about artificial inflation of price? I ask my companions, hoping that they’ll know. Because as the auction goes on, it will become increasingly clear that I’m not going to drop out. I could easily imagine frustrated bidders trying to make me pay dearly for that.

  Alyna and Loran exchange glances.

  It’s not allowed, I know that, Alyna ventures after a moment. No dealer wants that strategy to go bad and end up with a bid that the person can’t cover. But accusing someone of doing it when they’re not can be grounds for a slander accusation and a fine – the amount depends on how serious the slander is.

  It would have to be proven too, Loran points out.

  And I guess the accusation would only hold weight if the person actually doesn’t have the money to cover the bid, I sigh. This could end up being an expensive endeavour.

  It’s not that I don’t have the money, but I have other uses for it – uses that don’t involve lining the pockets of a slave merchant. Someone who happens to have brought a couple of golders along to the auction in preparation could easily push the price up to just short of that every time out of spite, entirely legally.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  I suppose I could get one or both of you to bid on my behalf, I muse. That would make it look like it’s not just me. We could even end up in a bidding war a couple of times to sell the idea.

  My companions don’t seem convinced and exchange glances. What? I ask them.

  I’ve never actually bid in an auction before, Alyna starts hesitantly, but from what I’ve heard, I doubt that the dealer will look any better on that than someone artificially driving the price up.

  It might work, Loran muses.

  Loran, you know as well as I do–

  Loran cuts Alyna off.

  Remember who Markus is. What dealer is going to try to drag the heir of a Great House before the courts for dirty dealings in an auction?

  Alyna’s silent.

  You have a point, she admits.

  Though, there might be another way – and one that is faster, Loran continues thoughtfully.

  I’m listening, I tell him. I’m also keeping my ears pricked – another man has been brought up onto the stage and I’m half-listening to the dealer’s information about him. His crime was apparently fraud. Given that he’s one of the skinny men, I’m not that surprised.

  You could offer to buy all of the slaves as a single lot.

  I turn to look at him in surprise.

  That’s an option?

  Uncertainty drifts through the Bond between us.

  For most people, no. For you…probably yes. One of my previous masters – a merchant – used to buy slaves for a large farm outside the city during planting and harvesting seasons and he would usually buy them in job lots. During an auction, though…. You’d have to offer something significant to get the auctioneer to consider calling off the auction.

  I suppose that makes sense. Though there is a certain amount of security in having all slaves purchased at the same time, if it comes at the cost of lower profits, the dealer isn’t going to be keen on it.

  At the same time, as previously established, I’m not all too happy with the idea of making a slave trader more wealthy. I tap my lips with one finger as I consider options.

  How much do you think a merchant would value having the heir of a Great House as a client? I ask my companions.

  A lot, Loran offers immediately. If he can boast about it. Or if that heir is a repeat client. He shakes his head. My previous master spent a good portion of his time and a lot of money on courting Lady Deepdelve – his city lord. I bet he’d have almost died of delight if a member of the Titanbends had given his wares a second look. And good riddance. His last comment is significantly quieter than his previous answers – and from the way alarm spikes afterwards, I don’t think I was meant to hear it.

  The bidding for the current man is coming to an end so, once more, I snipe it at the last minute. But my concerns are proven to be well-founded – this man drives me up a full twenty silvers higher and I suspect he only stops there because his own pockets are unable to bear a higher bid.

  And he’s not the only one who’s disgruntled – there are more than a few unfriendly faces eyeing me. Hopefully Loran’s idea will work because if it doesn’t, I might have a fight on my hands even before the auction ends.

  Alright, Loran, you’d better go and speak to the auctioneer, I tell him. He doesn’t move immediately but instead looks conflicted. What is it?

  Sir…Markus…perhaps Alyna should go instead.

  Me? But I’ve never–

  You don’t need to know what to say – Markus can speak through you, Loran reassures her. But you’re still a slave – and I’m not.

  It takes me a moment to understand what he’s getting at since his tone and emotions very clearly indicate that he’s not saying she should do it because she ranks lower than he does. But then he subtly indicates his neck and the white band of scars that encircles it and I understand his point.

  Sending Loran, a clearly recently-freed slave might make the auctioneer a bit wary. After all, freed slaves are ones who are no longer in the market – if everyone freed their slaves instead of selling them, the auctioneer would be out of a job. It might even make him think – correctly – that I’m an abolitionist. Which might impact his willingness to agree to my request.

  On the other hand, sending Alyna – a slave – to speak for me implies that I’m an eager participant in his trade and might therefore make him more amenable.

  It’s a good idea, I agree finally. And Loran is right – I’ll tell you what to say as long as you let me know exactly what the auctioneer is saying to you.

  Alyna eyes me with a hint of trepidation, then dips her head in submission.

  Yes, my lord.

  She quickly heads off into the crowds, navigating them adroitly. I notice Bullio and Leileh watching her curiously.

  “I just sent her off on an errand,” I explain. “With any luck, it will reduce the amount of time we need to spend here.”

  “That is only for the best, my l-sir,” Bullio agrees, his tone uneasy as his eyes ceaselessly scan the crowd around us. “I do not like the way the crowd is turning.” Lowering his voice, he leans in a little closer. “We should make a plan for if we must escape from here in a hurry.”

  “That’s a wise idea,” I admit. Even if I manage to buy all the slaves as a job lot, some of those who have attended the auction may be…dissatisfied with the waste of their time.

  We discuss ideas until I see Alya approach the stage.

  “Good thoughts, Bullio,” I say, interrupting him slightly. “Keep discussing them with Leileh and come up with an actionable plan. I need to focus elsewhere for now.”

  The guard looks a little startled, but then dips his head briefly.

  “Yes, m-sir.”

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