The Wild Cats

CW: slavery

From my spot in the wings, I watched her take to the stage. She was perfection. Thick, midnight hair falling down her back in glossy coils. Her skin like caramel dusted with gold, eyes like emeralds. Suli did not glide across the creaking platform, she stalked.

The short, rough-spun beige shift worn by all slaves on the block may as well have been a carefully crafted gown. Who could help but admire her curvy legs, the swell of her hips and buttocks, the curve of her breasts? Some might have called her over-fed, or simply fat, but her appearance had been carefully curated for one man in particular. The young woman wore her confidence like armour. She looks like a queen, the shackle on her ankle a mere trinket, the guard at her back a trusted member of her retinue. If not for the circumstances, I’d have bid on her myself.

As the auctioneer beckoned for her to turn about, I flicked my eyes to where the Crown Prince sat in the front row, surrounded by his sycophants. The Prince’s fools were grinning and jostling one another, eyebrows raised. The Prince was watching the woman vacantly, looking far too bored for my liking, when - yes! - his eyes widen and he leans forward, clenching the worn wooden railing with one hand. As I look to Suli again, she is standing with her back to the crowd and with her hair artfully swept over one shoulder to reveal the stark, crisscross of welts across her back. A sure sign of a disobedient slave.

We all knew that good looks, no matter how painstakingly crafted, would not be enough to win the Prince over. What he sought at these auctions, what he craved, was a challenge. Actually, forgive me, that is putting it far too politely, the truth of the matter is that the oldest of Kaban’s Princes was a brutish sadist, and nothing quite thrilled him like breaking a strong-willed girl. His wild cats, the court calls them - I suppose it is easier to ignore their cries echoing down the palace halls if one thinks of them as animals. Prince Aled though, he is the true animal - a cruel, slobbering dog.

I worry in that moment, that I have doomed this young woman, by helping her win his attention so, but she knew what she was getting herself in to. Few knew better.

 On the block, the auctioneer said something inaudible to Suli and takes a lazy swipe at her with the riding crop he always brandishes at auctions. I have heard it said in taverns, that he is not against sampling his merchandise and that many a young girl makes her way onto the block already bearing the marks of that crop. Suli hissed and lunged in response, pulled up sharp by her ankle shackle. Good, I think, let them see how feral you are.

The auctioneer barks to her guard and he catches her arm, violently spinning her to face the crowd again. She stands, regal poise not quite fractured, her lip curled to give a glimpse of perfect, pearly teeth. Even this snarl has been carefully planned. The Black ribbons took no chances in their preparations. I look back to the Prince, he is standing now, both hands on the rail, most definitely intrigued. It would seem we have done our work well. I smiled.

The auctioneer moves to his lectern and begins to speak to the crowd, who slip easily into silence. “A fine specimen, no?” he says. “A beautiful Mudivi, her curves are as spicy as her temper.” He laughs at his own joke and lashes out with his crop again, batting at the air around her and is rewarded with a few half-hearted chuckles.

“Let us start the bidding at… two thousand silver pieces.” The chuckles die down, that was a preposterous sum, even for such a beauty.

“You’ve gone mad, Jules!” cried someone from the front rows and he was quickly joined by other shouts of disbelief. I worried one hand with the other, shit, what was he thinking? He had been told to open at nine hundred silvers, and that was a reach, even for a Mudivi. The greedy idiot could ruin everything.

“One thousand.”, a voice from the rear. A woman’s voice. As silence fell I cast about frantically to see who it was, Elena Rubens from the Shadowed Lady. Double shit. Elena was a whorehouse Madame, a whorehouse Madame with exquisite taste perhaps, but she was not part of this plan, “One thousand, Jules, and not a copper more, I would be doing you a favour.”

“Now Elena, are you so cruel as to cheat me on a day such as this, when Zah’s love shines down, warm upon us? Wh-”

“Fifteen hundred.” A new voice? I looked to the prince, but he had sat back in his chair, speculative but silent. Fuck.

“Sixteen hundred!” Another new voice.

“Eighteen hundred!” Another.

“Nineteen hundred!” Another.

“Two thousand!” Another.

As the girl’s current master, on paper at least, I should be rubbing my hands at such a price – but she may as well sell for a copper unless the Prince bought her. The bids continued to flow and I looked to the girl. She was fidgeting slightly, the only sign that she too had noted the prince’s seeming disinterest, the only sign that years of hard work were disintegrating before her eyes.

“Four thousand silvers!” A hush fell as Madame Elena’s voice rang out again. I looked about, the prince had risen to his feet, his attendant holding his jacket – oh, no. I looked to the girl again, she stood wide eyed, hands clenched at her side, knuckle’s white. Everything was ruined, so much planning, years of training. We had been so certain she would catch the Prince’s eye. Damn Elena. Damn everything!

Fast as an adder striking, the girl leapt towards the auctioneer. This time her shackles do not stop her as she pulls the chain out of her startled guard’s hands. She tackled the auctioneer’s legs, bringing him to the ground. As her guard rushed forward, she scrambled atop of the auctioneer’s soft, pudgy body. Her hands finding purchase on his neck, then his face, as he flailed beneath her. She lifted his head and cracked it down on the rough planking with a heavy thud, while her guard tried to grab her by the waist to heave her away. She smashed his head to the floor two more times before the guard managed to pull her off of his limp form. She spun and sunk her teeth into the guard’s arm before he struck her, knocking her to the floor.

The crowd was silent.

“I am no whore! I am no doe-eyed cow to lead to slaughter. Who thinks to buy me now, like a sack of grain?” The girls voice was clear and steady as she stood up and challenged the crowd. She wiped at a smear of blood on her cheek, green eyes bright and defiant. Four other guards filed onto the block behind her, two rushed grab her, and the other two ran to the auctioneer’s prone form – I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. I scanned the hall, all eyes were on her, including the Prince’s. It was too late though.

I started backing away from the block, she had gone too far. I would be held accountable for this murder. I needed to get out before the crowd rallied, to go to ground. My mind was running over the route to the nearest safe house when a voice rang out.

“Five thousand silvers.” I spun around, Prince Aled was staring at the girl, his smirk doing little to disguise the keen hunger on his face. “I will buy you, little kitten – but first, I think we will need a new auctioneer.”

We had done it. We would have a member of the Black Ribbons inside the inner palace. Suli would have her chance. She dropped to her knees. Most would assume in despair, but I knew it was relief.