The Slave Market part 1

Chapter 10: The Slave Market
Shailaja slumped in her cell, sitting across from the one who desired to kill her.  It was bad enough to be in the same cell with Vasanta, but to be yoked to her by the heavy wooden rod was almost insufferable.  The Nahn princess seemed chastened as well, but that mood did not last long.  In spite of the yoke connecting them she lurched to her feet and claimed the bed.

"Sleep on the floor," she ordered.  "It is only fitting for one of such dishonourable lineage."  She defiantly took up a position in front of the bed and challenged Shailaja to move her.  

Shailaja did not need a second invitation.  Grabbing the pole she used her superior strength and the fact that Vasanta was not at her best, to forcibly move her to the other side of the cell.  The princess fought as best she could, but Shailaja had no trouble proving her point.  However, she was mindful of the fact that tethered as they were neither of them was going to get much in the way of rest if they continued to fight.  

"None of this is doing you or me the least bit of good you know," Shailaja said as she held Vasanta pinned against the wall on the far side of the cell.

"What do you mean?" Vasanta scowled, as she struggled to gain control of the pole.  

"This stupid vengeance thing," Shailaja answered.  "We are slaves.  Don't you understand that we have to work together if we are to get out of here?"  

"I am sworn to avenge my brother," the princess replied, finally giving up her efforts to break Shailaja's grip.  "Have you no concept of honour?"

"Much more than you think, but honour is worthless if you can't carry out your threat.  We are prisoners.  If we don't cooperate we will be here until we die.  Kill me after we escape if your honour demands it, but in the meantime help me get out of here."

Vasanta glowered at her, but considered Shailaja's proposal.  As much as it galled her she could see that the northern barbarian made sense.  Even killing Shailaja would solve nothing.  She would still be a slave and would probably be severely punished for daring to destroy someone's property.  There was little point in vengeance if it resulted in a lifetime of captivity.  No doubt the killing of one slave by another would me met with savage punishment.  "Alright," she agreed.  "I will kill you after we escape.  What is your plan?"

"I don't have one," Shailaja answered.  "We have to stay alert and see what transpires.  Eventually I'll think of something."

"You'll think of something?" Vasanta sneered.  "I can hardly wait for that flash of brilliance."  

In spite of her sarcasm, however, Vasanta offered no further objections and made no effort to claim the bed as Shailaja relaxed her grip on the yoke.  It was a truce of a sorts and Shailaja attempted to further it by offering Vasanta the use of the bed first.  

"You think me so weak I cannot sleep on the floor?" Vasanta spat.  She sank to the floor of the cell and glared defiantly at Shailaja as if daring her to force her to use the bed.  Shailaja shook her head.  It was clear that the Nahn princess was beyond reason.  With a sigh she took the bed and tried to get some rest.

Fortunately Vasanta seemed disinclined to offer further aggravation and Shailaja was able to get a brief rest.  Her sleep was interrupted by the opening of the cell door.  The little serving girl entered the cell.  They had learned that her name was Chana and she seemed to have a surprising amount of authority for a slave.  Behind her were several heavily armed guards wearing armour and carrying falchions.  Chana stepped into the room, apparently quite unafraid of the two huge barbarians in the cell with her.  "You will come with me," she said.  "And please try to show better sense than either of you have so far.  I do not wish to have to order your punishment."

Vasanta peered behind the girl and noted the presence of six guards, each armed with one of the nasty polearms that seemed to be standard issue for Tharian soldiers.  She snorted her contempt, her lip curling.  "And who gave you such authority, little slave?"

"It is not I who put you here," Chana replied.  "But be warned that force will be used if you resist."  

Scowling, Vasanta looked past the girl to the waiting guards.  "Where are you taking us?" she asked.  

"I don't have to answer that," Chana said haughtily, "but since you ask, you are to be examined to determine the state of your health and then prepared for the auction."

"I thought the auction was some days off," Shailaja interjected.  

"So it is," Chana agreed.  "But the Slavemaster has taken a personal interest in both of you.  You are first being taken to the baths and then to the physician to the gladiators.  You will remove your clothing and follow me."

There seemed little point in resisting.  Wherever they were being taken Shailaja reckoned it could hardly be worse than being in a cell with Vasanta.  She stripped off her clothes and then waited with arms folded beneath her breasts while Vasanta, with much poorer grace removed her clothing as well, contemptuously tossing her desert robe into the corridor.  

Shailaja ignored this petulant outburst and without waiting to see if the princess was agreeable stepped toward the door, keeping one hand on the pole just in case Vasanta offered any resistance.

Fortunately, Vasanta decided to use what little common sense she had and followed without resisting, although it took them a few strides to get into a rhythm where they did not jerk the neck of the other.

To Shailaja's surprise the guards made no comment about either her or Vasanta as they escorted them to the baths, a situation she found strange until she noticed that at least two of the guards were women, a fact that had been disguised by their helmets and armour.  It gave her something to think about.  She had thought that only her society and that of Vasanta had women warriors, but it appeared that Thar accorded women rights that were similar to hers.

The baths themselves were something of a revelation being much larger than Shailaja had expected.  She had pictured a small room with some sort of tub, but it turned out that in Thar a bath consisted of a large pool surrounded by a covered portico and water deep enough to swim in.  It was open to the sky, but a quick glance told her that the only way out was the way she had come in, unless she could jump thirty feet to the top of the portico.  Even had she not been yoked to Vasanta escape would have been impossible.  

Their guide motioned toward the water and handed each of them a cloth and a sliver of perfumed soap and then waited while they entered the water. "Try to get yourselves as clean as possible," she urged.  "I will wait here until you finish."

Shailaja found that the water was cold, but warmed by the full sunlight it was pleasant enough.  After the weeks of slogging through the desert and the exercise they had been force to engage in it was a wondrous sensation to feel the water against her skin.  She noted that a film of grime coated the water around them and quickly put the soap to work.  
A few yards away Vasanta was also working the dirt out of her skin.  She ducked beneath the surface to wet her hair and then soaped her raven tresses thoroughly.  Then she ducked again rinsing away the accumulated dirt of her desert travels.  Shailaja watched her out of the corner of my eye and realized that it was well that she could not get at her, as she was suddenly overcome by an almost irresistible urge to push the Nahn princess's head beneath the surface and hold it there.  Since she could not do that she focused on getting as clean as possible.

Awkward as the bath was due to the heavy wooden pole that connected them; both women thoroughly enjoyed the bath and would have stayed longer had they not been ordered out of the water.  "Comb and braid your hair," Chana demanded.  "And hurry; the examiner awaits, and he is not a patient man."  

Reluctantly, the two women complied, shivering slightly as the water dried on their skin.  With Chana's help they combed out and braided their hair; and then still nude they followed her from the baths.

Chana led them down the cell block and past the corridor leading to the exercise yard.  They made a couple of turns and ended up in a room that smelled strongly of medicaments.  In the centre of the room was a large wooden table covered with several folded blankets.  However, it was the leather restraints attached to the table that caught their eyes.  The chains and manacles hanging from the ceiling also added a disturbing aspect to the room.  Both women decided immediately that the room was a place they did not want to be.  Standing beside the table was a middle-aged Tharian dressed in a white robe trimmed with gold.  His greying hair was cut short and he wore a neatly trimmed beard and moustache.  A gold band encircled his forehead reminding Shailaja of another who had dressed in a similar manner, Selvan-mal-Tir, the Tharian healer who had served in the camp of the Ravens and who had almost certainly saved her life.

The healer studied them and as they entered the room.  "I do not usually inspect two patients at the same time, but I see in your case that I have no choice."  

Vasanta and Shailaja looked back at him without comment.  They were still nude, as no effort had been made to return their clothing.  Shailaja suspected it was something that was intended to make them feel more vulnerable, but it probably had a greater effect on Vasanta than it did on her.  The healer ran his eyes over their bodies and Shailaja stared straight at him, while the princess looked at the wall.

"You are two most impressive young women," he commented, "and both warriors, which means that your heads are probably filled with ideas of honour and self-importance.  Please understand that this means nothing to me.  I am Ker-mal-Gen, physician to the gladiators and my word in this room is law.  I am going to give you both a very detailed and personal medical inspection and I expect your full cooperation.  If I do not get it I will take measures to ensure that you are properly immobilized."

Vasanta spat contemptuously, but Shailaja simply raised her chin a little higher.  Neither woman considered herself to be a frightened peasant to be ordered about.  Even the presence of the armed guards did not cow them, nor fear of a repeat of the punishment they had received in the exercise yard.  They would not seek trouble, but neither would they back away from it.  The Tharians might think them slaves, but in their own minds they were still warriors and would bow to no one willingly.  

"The dark-haired barbarian first," Ker ordered.  "Climb up on the slab and lie still."

"I am not a whore to be placed on my back," Vasanta replied with her usual vehemence.  "I will not do it."

Shailaja felt the same, but did not voice her opposition; however, her defiant stare communicated her hostility just as well as did Vasanta's words.  "Fools," Ker said.  "But have it your way."  He stepped back and motioned their escort forward.

Considering their handicap of being joined at the neck, they defended themselves well.  Shailaja even managed to knock one guard flat on his back, and Vasanta gave one of them a good kick between the legs.  However, their resistance lasted only a few heartbeats before they were immobilized.  The guards were used to working with reluctant slaves and they targeted their weak point, which was the long pole connecting them.  Two of them seized it and using its leverage quickly forced them to their knees and then flat on the floor.  They fought to get up, but there were six guards and all that they had to do was keep their weight on the wooden pole to keep them pinned.  Vasanta was enraged, cursing and shouting at her captors.  "Face me with a sword, you gods-forsaken cowards and I will gut all of you."  

Shailaja saved her breath in an effort to get up, but had no more luck than her fellow captive.  She growled in anger as she felt shackles slapped onto her wrists and ankles and then she was hauled to her feet.

The guards used the chains hanging from the ceiling to do it, pulling both women erect and helpless.  They stood the length of the pole apart, their arms pulled over their heads and their legs spread slightly by the chains on their ankles.  Shailaja stopped her struggling at once, realizing that even her strength was not going to free her from the iron restraints, but Vasanta jerked at her chains for several heartbeats in a frenzied but futile effort to break free.  Finally she stood quietly as well, her chest having from exertion.  Completely immobilized, one of the guards removed the inconvenient yoke in order that Ker could move between them and properly carry out his examination.  

"Well, that was useless, but entertaining," Ker remarked as he surveyed their panting bodies.  "Having you on the table would be more convenient, but I must admit this is more erotic."

Shailaja glared at him, refusing to submit.  It seemed that she was fated to suffer dishonour after dishonour, but she would not be broken and would not recognize her status as a slave.  However, neither she nor Vasanta could escape the humiliating examination that Ker subjected them to.

Ker addressed each of the women by name and they realized he must have obtained some information about them from Gren.  However, both of them continued their stubborn resistance, refusing to acknowledge that he was speaking to either of them.

"You would be Shailaja," he said, stopping in front of her.  "The Kaltaran barbarian.  I have encountered one like you once before."  He said no more, but smiled mysteriously and then moved on to Vasanta.  

"And this would be Vasanta, the Nahn princess.  You appear quite spirited, but I think you can be molded into what we desire."

He moved around them in a circle, speaking as he did so, a second white-robed man writing down everything that he said.

"The Kaltaran appears healthy and strong.  She well-muscled and is of a formidable height."  Here he stopped to hold up a measuring pole next to Shailaja.   "She stands some six and a half feet tall and is well proportioned, and quite pleasing to the eye."

He stopped again and set aside the pole before approaching Shailaja once more.  This time he laid hands on her, running them over the muscles of her arms and then pressing his right hand against her belly, before fondling the her buttocks and then her thighs.

"She is firm and strong with much less body fat than is normal in most women, no doubt due to a life spent in training for war.  Her shoulders are broad, her waist narrow, and her hips slim, but well proportioned for child-bearing.  Her breasts are large, but not overly so and are well rounded with prominent pink nipples and areola."  He squeezed Shailaja's breasts as he spoke, flicking his thumbs over her nipples and noting their pleasing response before continuing.  "They respond well to the touch showing that she is probably more easily aroused than most other women."

Shailaja quivered with rage.  To her shame she could not stop the involuntary hardening of her nipples or the flush of arousal that darkened her chest and breasts.

"Her features are startlingly attractive for so formidable a warrior, with eyes of piercing green and hair the colour of flame.  The hair colour is matched by that between her thighs and although unusual will be found to be quite pleasing to many."

He was standing very close to Shailaja now and although she knew what his next area of inspection was likely to be she was powerless to stop him as his fingers investigated the area between my legs.  "As suspected she is not a virgin, although one might almost expect otherwise from her reaction to being touched.  However, she is moist and tight and would no doubt prove to be most pleasurable when taken."  

Shailaja found this last insult too much to bear.  "You will die for this," she vowed between clenched teeth.

"I think not," Ker laughed.  "I suspect you are going to be kept far too busy to have the time to come after me."

Shailaja did not like the implication behind his words.  Was she to be used again against her will?  It seemed a likely fate, and this time she suspected escape from her captors might prove much more difficult.  However, she was spared further shame when Ker turned his attention to Vasanta.  

"Like the Kaltaran the Nahnian captive is a striking woman, with high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes that give her a most exotic look.  She is similar in build to the Kaltaran, but stands lower at just six feet.  Her colouring is quite different; her hair raven-dark with eyes to match.  Like the Kaltaran her body is firm and well muscled and she responds favorably to touch."

Vasanta writhed in her chains as she was exposed to the same indignities Shailaja had suffered.  "You will not touch me," she screamed.

"How else am I to complete my inspection?" Ker smiled.  "I would be a poor physician to neglect my duties.  I assure you that what I do is quite impersonal even if it is quite pleasant."  

In spite of Vasanta's outrage he continued his investigation and his commentary.  "The Nahnian's breasts are high and firm with dark nipples and a most pleasing shape.  Like the Kaltaran she is not a virgin, but the bruising on her body tells me that she has not been used by men until quite recently.  She appears to have been badly used, her body bearing the marks of a severe flogging probably administered less than a moon ago.  It has left some scaring that I have not the skills to remove.  The Kaltaran also bears some marks, but these appear to be older, no doubt scars earned in battle.  They are not particularly disfiguring unless one looks for them."

Ker ended his report with these remarks.  His examination had taken only a short time, but it seemed much longer and he made no effort to have Shailaja or Vasanta taken down from their restraints.  They stood with their legs slightly apart and their bodies stretched toward the ceiling while he continued to admire them and made a few more notes.  Finally, he stepped toward them.  "You will remain here until Urgan arrives.  Your conduct has been far from satisfactory and you must be shown the price of disobedience."  With that he was gone leaving them to await their punishment.

It came finally in the form of the man who had disciplined them on the previous day as well as Sed-mal-Barak.  The latter regarded them disapprovingly.  "You two are becoming a bit of a nuisance.  This time you have disobeyed one who is held in the highest regard in Thar, a royal physician.  There is only one way to teach you proper behaviour and that is a full application of the stinger."

Without further commentary Sed nodded to Urgan who had already positioned himself behind them.  He held in his hand the painful instrument they had already experienced.  "Twenty each should be enough.  Make sure that they remain conscious throughout the punishment."

Behind her Shailaja could sense Urgan moving and then came the pain.  This time she was ready for it, but it still took her breath away.  She gasped as the whip curled about her back, the end of it following the lines of her torso and the weight tip carrying it until it reached her breasts.  The result was sheer agony, so much so that for an instant her vision blurred and then it was gone as Urgan switched his target to Vasanta.

She too received the blow well.  Shailaja heard her gasp of pain, but that was the only sound she made, and then it was Shailaja's turn again.  Urgan counted as he struck; letting them know how many blows they had yet to receive.
  
As before the pain was intense; incredibly so, but it did not linger; at least not for the first four or five blows.  And then the nature of the pain changed, each strike becoming progressively more painful until at the sixth blow Shailaja screamed.  She was shamed by her reaction, but she had at least lasted longer than Vasanta who had given in at the fourth blow.  But the fact that she had outlasted her smaller and weaker rival gave her little pleasure.  She was in too much pain for that, and the high-pitched shrieks of the Nahn princess seemed to add to her suffering.

Shailaja screamed along with her and came close to begging for mercy.  Never before had she suffered such excruciating pain.  It seemed to go right through her body, penetrating flesh and bone until it reached the core of her being.  And it was made worse by Urgan's expertise.  He wielded the whip with the utmost precision and soon revealed that he could reach any part of their bodies with it.  He had twenty strokes to explore their bodies and he made full use of them causing the whip to touch not only their backs, breasts, and bellies, but also their backsides and legs and then the most intimate of places.  By the time he was finished Shailaja was almost sobbing and Vasanta had long gone past that stage and was crying and screaming uncontrollably.

And then it was over and with it a sudden and complete cessation of the pain.  Shailaja stood dumbfounded, her body shaking from the tension, tears streaming down her cheeks and her lungs heaving like a bellows.  It was an experience she had no wish to repeat and even Vasanta seemed to have gotten the message.  When the guard stepped forward to release them from their shackles they were both as docile as lambs, making no effort to resist as the long pole connecting their iron collars was once again put in place.

"I see you have learned something," Sed commented.  "But remember the punishment can be repeated at any time.  You are slaves and from slaves we expect complete obedience."

Shailaja stared straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge his comment, but she was completely chastened.  Although she burned with hatred for her captors she realized now that she must do as they said, at least until the day that she could find some way to win her freedom.

Vasanta too had taken the lesson to heart.  She was most cooperative and kept properly in step as they were led back to their cell.  There they found Chana waiting for them.  "I am to take you to the baths," the girl said.  "You will follow me."

She turned and Shailaja and Vasanta walked obediently behind her like two puppies.  Both warriors felt the utmost shame at their docility, but they had no wish to face the stinger again.   Their masters had proven their point that they could do what they wanted with them including inflicting the most painful of punishments.  They could do no more than obey.

Vasanta trudged down the corridor, barely hiding her emotions.  As usual she trailed Shailaja, a position she now detested.  For a month she had trod in the redheaded barbarian's track and she was heartily sick at looking as her shapely backside, however, her emotionless features revealing nothing of what she felt.  She seethed with hatred and resentment that was directed not only at her masters but also at the woman in front of her.  She blamed the tall Kaltaran for everything that had happened to her, refusing to accept that her obsessive desire for vengeance was primarily to blame.  However, as long as she was controlled by the pole connecting her to the barbarian whore there was nothing she could do except fume in helpless impotence.  However, she would not forget what had brought her to this hapless state.  One day she would be free and when that happened she would make the redheaded bitch scream.
  
Vasanta's thoughts of vengeance were interrupted as they reached the area of the baths and entered a large room containing a number of cubicles, each with a seat and a shelf.  They bypassed these and went through a door on the far side of the room and entered the baths.  

Once again bathing provided them with a pleasant experience, especially after the ordeal of the examination, and once again it ended all too soon.  After a half turn of the glass Chana seemed satisfied.  "That's good enough," Chana commanded.  "There is another place for you to go.  Come out of the pool."  They had little choice but to obey even though the cool water of the bath provided a refreshing change from the heat of Thar's climate.  

They were taken only a short way to a room that was open on one side and looked out on a pleasant garden. Shailaja was quite surprised that such a place should exist in a place inhabited by slaves, and looked upon it as further proof of Thar's wealth that even slaves were allowed access to such a place.  

A pleasant stroll in the gardens, however, was not what Chana had in mind.  Instead they were directed to a stone bench while Chana and a rather pretty young man attended to them.

The man attended to Vasanta, much to her obvious displeasure.  "Such beautiful hair," the man purred, as he drew a comb through her tangled locks.  "It's like the finest silk."

Vasanta jerked her head away.  "Get him away from me," she growled.  

What is wrong with you?" Chana asked.  "Jeral was only paying you a compliment."

"I don't want him touching me," she answered through clenched teeth.  

Chana sighed.  "I don't have time for this.  You are to be ready in less than a turn of the glass."  Shrugging her shoulders she motioned toward Shailaja.  "Jeral, you look after her.  I'll comb out her ladyship."


"In Nahn we would put one such as him to death," the princess said.

"You are not in Nahn," Chana replied.  "Here we tolerate many who are different including bad-mannered barbarians."

Vasanta had no reply to this and sat quietly for the rest of the session while the two barbarians had their hair was combed out and then fashioned into the familiar long braid that hung down their backs.  While they sat, however, Shailaja wondered at their treatment.  After the savagery of their march across the desert and the humiliation and pain they had been subjected to earlier in the day, this sudden privileged treatment seemed oddly out of place and she could not help commenting on it.

"You are valuable property," Chana explained.  "We rarely get one such as either of you.  As a matter of fact I have never seen anyone quite like you.  Your price at the auction will be high, but you must be presented properly.  Your day is not yet through."  This last comment somehow left both Shailaja and Vasanta feeling uneasy.  What further trial did their captors have planned for them?  It was with a feeling of trepidation that they moved to yet another room.  Here there were a number of tables draped with large towels and attended by a young woman.  They were ordered to lie face down on the tables and an older woman stepped forward to look at them.

"Halla," Chana said, addressing the older woman, "you are to do the best you can with these two.  They are to be presented at the next auction and must be made as ready as possible."

"Oh, this is most awkward," Halla said, laying her hands on the pole that connected the two women.  "What did you do to deserve this?"  

Neither Vasanta nor Shailaja answered, and Chana did not bother to enlighten the woman.  Instead she waited while the woman inspected them.

"You have been treated outrageously," the Halla commented as her fingers stroked the scars on Vasanta's back.  "It will be hard to repair such damage in so short a time."

To Vasanta's credit she merely shrugged her shoulders slightly at Halla's touch.  She had apparently learned a semblance of discipline.  Shailaja also lay quietly as the woman turned to her.

"You also have been badly used," Halla said, as she touched the traces of the scars left by the flogging Gorvag had given her.  She turned back to Chana.  "It will be a challenge, but I will see what I can do.  I will start immediately.  Can I count on their cooperation?"

"They should be most cooperative," Chana replied.  "They have had a rather hard lesson today, and the tether is a reminder of their position.  However, it is difficult to predict how a barbarian will react and it might be best if they were both restrained."

"Well then," Halla said, "I will take you at your word.  We had best get started."  

She immediately issued a series of orders and several of the young women moved forward.  They were quick and efficient and before either woman had time to react they had secured a leather strap across each of their backs preventing either of them from moving from the table.  Then they did the same with their wrists and ankles, leaving them strapped securely to the table.

Both women could have resisted, but by now neither could see how that would help.  They had already been shown twice what resistance in Thar meant and had no further wish to be subjected to the stinger once again and so they allowed the women to restrain them, wondering what further torment was about to be inflicted.

Shailaja lay quietly as the young women attending her went to work.  They each selected a jar from an array of such objects on one of the shelves in the room and began smearing its contents on her backs.  She had no idea as to the jar's contents, but she felt its effect immediately.

A mild burning sensation swept through her skin wherever the cream touched.  From where she lay she could see that the girl applying it to Vasanta's back was using a cloth to spread the cream and was careful not to get it on her hands.  However, the sensation was mild and so she lay still and let the girl complete her task.

"It will burn a little," Halla said.  "But do not worry it will not harm you.  The cream will attack the scarring that mars your bodies and eventually leave you unblemished.  Lie still and let it do its work."

Her warning and explanation came just as the mild burning sensation intensified.  Suddenly Shailaja felt as if her back was on fire and had Halla not said something she might have been inclined to resist what was being done to her.  It was the same for Vasanta.  Shailaja saw her attempt to rise from the table, but the leather straps held her firmly in place.  If the pain of the salve was bad for her, for Vasanta with her more extensive scarring it must have been exquisitely agonizing.  However, the girl attending to Shailaja was not quite finished.  Halla had paid close attention to her appearance before having her bound to the table and probably had access to Ker-mal-Gen's detailed notes.  She knew where every battle scar on her body was located and went about applying the cream to them as well.  Soon more than one part of her body felt as if it was on fire, but she had no choice but to endure the pain.

The next few turns of the glass were spent strapped to the table as the salve did its work.  Gradually the pain subsided as the scar tissue was broken down.  Finally, satisfied that their blemishes had been removed, the straps were removed, but they were not yet free to go.  

Halla handed our two attendants two more jars.  "This is a healing salve.  It must remain on the places we have treated for several days.  During that time you must not bathe or in any way wash the salve from your bodies.  Only half a moon remains before the auction and you must appear in prime condition."

They were also forbidden even to exercise as it was feared that the heat of their bodies would dissolve the salve and render it less effective.  They were forced to spend the next ten days confined to their cell with little more to do than stare at one another.  During that time it was probably well that they could not get at one another as they became so bad-tempered they almost certainly would have been at one another's throats.

Halla visited them regularly as did Ker-mal-Gen.  Both seemed pleased with their progress.  On the eleventh day they were accompanied by Sed-mal-Barak.  The Slavemaster gave them an apprising look.  "You have done well, Halla.  I see not a mark on them.  They will fetch a very high price indeed; perhaps the highest in our memory."

After that Shailaja and Vasanta were allowed another trip to the baths and another session with the hairbrush.  This time, however, there was one more humiliation awaiting them and it was one they had no chance of avoiding.
  
Chana and their escort must have expected resistance as they were ambushed as we left the baths.  Several guards closed in on them from both sides and since they were still attached to one another at the neck by the long pole, there was little Shailaja or Vasanta could do to avoid being placed in chains.
  
They were first pushed to their knees and then their arms were forced behind their backs and quickly locked in place.  Their ankles were then tethered, rendering them completely helpless.  They were then marched to the little garden where Jeral was waiting for them.  Shailaja wondered at the extra restraints as they seemed somewhat excessive for having her hair combed, but she soon discovered that Jeral had been ordered to do more than comb hair.

The guards accompanied them and made sure that they offered only minimum resistance.  Once in the garden they were once again placed on their knees with their backs against the stone bench they had sat upon before.  Very quickly they were secured so that they could not move from the position in which they were placed.  They were arched slightly back; a position that left them open to whatever their captors might want to do to them.  As before their two attendants began with their hair, Chana seeing to Vasanta and Jeral seeing to Shailaja.  This caused very little stress, but it was what was done afterward that had them both protesting.  

Jeral produced a razor and prepared to remove the excess hair beneath their arms and between their legs.  It produced a very strong reaction from Vasanta and a lesser one from Shailaja.  The latter was not pleased by what was being done, but it had happened to her before when she was Gorvag's prisoner, and although she regarded it as shameful, she was at least prepared for it.  Vasanta was not and expressed her feelings freely.

"You will all die for this," she raged.  "You leave me as I was when I was born, devoid of all marks of my womanhood."

"You have two very impressive marks of womanhood," Chana laughed, giving Vasanta's breasts a light squeeze.  "Not to mention that which is now much better displayed between your legs."

Jeral wielded the razor expertly, and was soon done.  They later found out that the removal of hair from those parts of the body that are normally hidden was a common practice among Tharian women, but it left them both  feeling truly naked, even though they had not worn a stitch of clothing since the day they had stripped for their skin treatment.  

Vasanta was almost incoherent with anger, but could do nothing as her dark fleece was removed by the despised Jeral.  "A very pretty thing," Chana commented, eyeing Vasanta's naked petals.    "It is almost enough to make me wish I were a man.  But women can have fun down there too."

"You disgust me," Vasanta raged.  "No real woman would want such a thing."

"Not true," Chana retorted.  "I have spent many a delightful afternoon and evening with a woman."

"It is no more than I would expect from such a dishonourable people," Vasanta spat.

Shailaja said nothing, having no desire to get involved in such an argument in spite of her anger at once again being subjected to such a humiliating grooming.  Kaltarans had none of the reservations or prejudices Vasanta had expressed, enjoying both the company of men or women in a variety of couplings.  It was an attitude perhaps promoted by their frigid climate.  As one of their proverbs stated: "When sharing a snowbank gender matters little."
  
Shailaja's thoughts on this matter were distracted by the final stage of their grooming.  Jeral applied a stinging lotion to the areas he had just stripped of hair while Chana explained.  "This will keep the hair from returning for some time, making further application of the razor unnecessary for several moons."

Shailaja and Vasanta found the news that they would remain as free of hair as a child hardly pleasing although they were glad to be spared further indignities.  It made Shailaja wonder what other surprises Thar held in store.  She had no doubt she was in for a few more unpleasant episodes before she somehow won her freedom.
  
That she would eventually find a way to free herself Shailaja never doubted.  She knew that it would not be easy, as she had never before faced captors who were so thorough or careful.  She knew that most captives in her position would have given up hope of escape from so magnificent a city, but she had no such thoughts.  Sooner or later the opportunity would present itself and then she would take it.  First, however, she had to find a way to get free of Vasanta and she expected that would occur soon, especially as the slave market was only days away.  She would just have to wait and see.

There was little change in their situation for the next three days except for the fact that they were once again allowed to exercise.  As before it was awkward with the pole connecting them to one another, but Shailaja was determined to keep fit as was Vasanta, and their captors encouraged them on the grounds that the fitter they were the better price they would fetch.
  
Shailaja focused on the limited exercise the tether between her and Vasanta allowed.  It was, of course, impossible for either of them to practice their martial skills, but they both worked hard, exercise being one of the few things they could agree upon.  Shailaja longed for the day when they would finally be separated.  She had almost gotten used to being connected to the Nahn princess, but the unconcealed hatred the she held for her made her distinctly uncomfortable.  It was like being tied to a leopard that hadn't been fed for a day or so.

The day of the auction finally arrived and on that day there was a slight change.  Sed-mal-Barak appeared, accompanied by Urgan, and Shailaja and Vasanta were ordered out of the cell.  Once outside the tether was removed from their necks, however, Vasanta had learned what disobedience meant and kept herself under control.  However, they were not allowed complete freedom from one another.  To their dismay as soon as the long pole was unlocked from their collars it was replaced by the length of chain they had worn on their trip across the desert.

"You are to be sold as a pair," Sed explained.  "It is thought that two barbarians will fetch a better price."

That was hardly good news for Shailaja under any circumstances.  Escape would be much more difficult as long as she was attached to the vengeful princess.  Vasanta seemed no less displeased, but by now she had learned that her likes and dislikes had little bearing on what was done to her.  She accepted the chain with resignation and then they were taken to the auction.  

The two women were marched down a series of dimly lit hallways that twisted through the slave pens.  As they were escorted down one last corridor a loud murmuring sound could be heard.  Both women soon recognized it as the noise of a crowd.  And then the final door was flung open and they found themselves standing in a small room at the foot of a stone stairway.  

Chana disappeared leaving them alone with the guards.  From the top of the stairs a boy peered down at them and then ducked away.  Shailaja and Vasanta were nudged toward the steps by the guards.  Reluctantly they moved up the stone steps into the blinding sunlight of the auction mart.  Blinking in the brightness they looked out upon a sea of faces.  Both women were immediately overcome by a feeling of complete humiliation.  Prodded forward they were moved to the very edge of the platform, where restraining chains were attached to those they already wore to keep them in place and ensure their behaviour.    

The auction for those preceding them had not quite finished.  Shailaja saw that the last ten young men and women of those who had accompanied her and Vasanta across the desert were still there.  By now she knew most of them by name, even if she did not know them well.  The fact that they were last reflected the fact that they were considered the most desirable and a number of the wealthier bidders was on the auction platform to have a closer look.    

For the most part the bidders seemingly content to trust the auctioneer's description of the man or woman being sold.  But on occasion one or more of the bidders would examine the product more closely.  Shailaja noticed that this was especially true whenever comely young women were on the block.  

She found it most disturbing to see how the slender bodies of the most attractive young women were fondled and caressed under the pretence of properly examining the goods.  The knowledge that soon she would be subjected to the same shameful treatment made the spectacle even more galling, but there was little she could do except await her turn.

It came at last as the auctioneer, a heavyset man dressed in flowing green robes and carrying a cane, stepped up next to them.  "Honoured citizens," he intoned.  "Our final offering.  Two exotic barbarian imports; each as different from the other as wine and honey but equally desirable.  As usual they are available for closer inspection to any interested bidder, but I would caution the buyers that they are as yet quite wild and untamed and it may not be safe to approach them too closely.  You should not doubt, however, that these are two very fine specimens.  Note the perfect musculature of each barbarian and the exquisite fullness of their breasts and flatness of their bellies.  They will be most pleasing to anyone seeking to place them in the arena and if they can be tamed, take them to his bed."

Here the auctioneer paused; waiting to see what interest there might be in inspecting the merchandise more closely.  Not surprisingly in spite of his warning several of those on the platform moved forward.
  
There was nothing Vasanta and Shailaja could do to avoid the humiliation that followed.  In addition to the chain connecting them to one another, their ankles were chained to heavy bolts set into the platform, leaving their legs slightly spread for balance.  Their arms were stretched to either side and secured to stout posts.  The position left them open to whatever the prospective buyers wanted to do with them and they were quick to avail themselves of the opportunity their helplessness provided.  

Shailaja and Vasanta jerked at their chains as the buyers ran their hands over their bodies, commenting on their imperfections as they did so.
  
"Neither is a virgin.  I suspected as much, but I was hoping for better."   

"They are both too tall.  Most men would fear to take them to bed for fear of injury or worse."

"Perhaps the arena for both of them.  I can see no other suitable use for them, except perhaps as novelty items in a house of flowers."

Shailaja had a very good idea what a house of flowers might be, and she had a strong suspicion that it was something she would not like.  She also hated the inference that she was good for little more than pleasuring men or performing for them in the arena.  

"This one seems especially fierce," one of the buyers commented as he fondled Shailaja's breasts.  ":See how she growls when I touch her."

Shailaja had not realized she was making such a sound, but supposed she must have been.  She quickly silenced herself and stood as still as she could, gritting her teeth and staring straight ahead as the buyer continued to examine her.

"A real beauty," the buyer commented as he ran his hands over the muscles of her shoulders, and then moved his hand under the heavy mass of her hair to touch the back of her neck.  He was a tall, thin man with a full beard.  Not quite as tall as Shailaja, of course, but tall enough that he could see the rage in her eyes.
  
"Yes, you are fierce," he commented.  "But not so fierce I could not tame you.  I expect it would be a most pleasurable experience."

He moved his hand from behind her neck, lifting her hair and then moved it up to caress her cheek.  It was a stupid mistake and she made him pay for it.  Quick as a ferret she sank her teeth into his hand.

He screamed as Shailaja crunched bone and tried to jerk his hand free, but she hung on like a wolverine, oblivious to the blows rained on her by the guards and other buyers.  It took four blows of the stinger before she cried out and he was able to free his bleeding hand.  

"You bitch," the man cried.  "You will be punished for that."

"Serves you right, Trevan" the auctioneer sneered.  "You were warned."

"I will buy her no matter what the cost," Trevan raged.  "She will learn to obey before I am through with her."

"You will have competition," someone else shouted.  "I like her spirit."

"If there is no further inspection," the auctioneer shouted, "I ask that everyone return to their places and allow the bidding to commence."

Angry as Shailaja was, a sense of utter hopelessness swept over her.  How am I to escape this?  she thought.  It mattered little to her who paid the highest price, the brutality of the slavers was behind her, but she now faced a future that seemed just as bleak.  

Beside her, Shailaja caught a strange look from Vasanta.  For a brief instant she almost thought she saw a hint of a smile flicker about the Nahn princess's shapely lips, but then it was gone.  She forced herself to ignore what was happening to her and instead stared defiantly at the crowd.

It was time.  The auctioneer began his final spiel.  "Honoured buyers," he shouted.  "You see before you two perfect female specimens; one blazing like the sun and the other glowing like Selene herself.  And now it is time for the bidding to begin.  Let's start the bidding at…."