NaNoWriMo '08

The wagon was still dark, except for faint lamplight, when Shane became aware of his surroundings again. His limbs felt heavy, as though lead had replaced his bones. The gag was still in place and his bonds just as tight as he remembered them. As he did before, he glanced around, but when he came upon a pair of large stockinged feet with loose breeches falling over them, he quickly shut his eyes again and hoped that whoever was standing guard now didn’t notice him. He felt sleep beckoning again, but it was a normal kind of sleep, not the unconscious slumber he’d been in before. He led sleep overtake him.


Toram gently shook his daughter awake.

“Time to get up Anaëlle,” he murmured by her ear, before going to Lith.

“Mmmm,” grunted Anaëlle as she turned in bed and squinted her eyes open. The shutters of the two windows were thrown open to let the sunlight stream in. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and stretched, before pushing herself to a sitting position in bed. She rolled her shoulders, before hopping out of bed and hooking it back up on the wall and out of the way. As soon as Toram left the wagon, she shucked her nightclothes and shrugged on her riding undergarments, followed by a simple, medium blue riding dress. Brushing her hair and tying it up securely in a ponytail, she put on no jewelry as of yet – there was the set-up of the stalls to take care of before that. Humming a joyful little tune, she sat to pull on her soft boots, grabbed an apple and headed out the door. Lith was stirring in bed; she could keep an eye on the prisoners.

It was a beautiful warm day. The sunshine poured down from a cloudless sky, and there was a warm breeze that promised heat without it being oppressive. A perfect day for outside sales. Anaëlle took a deep breath, before heading over to where Toram was sorting out poles to set up the stalls. Veering to the right, Anaëlle joined the other women who were unfolding and untangling the cloth coverings.

Shortly later, the women, one at each corner of the several cloth coverings were called to throw them over the stalls. Bright colors flew through the air: broad stripes of red and yellow, demure rich blues, thin stripes of varying shades of green, and many others. Within moments, a veritable mini-market town was set up amidst the large living wagons. Then, individual families and associates split up and drifted to their wagons to retrieve foldable tables and other bits and pieces that furnished their stall, as well as, of course, the merchandise. That would come out last though. Toram had sent a young boy with a message down to the town to spread the word of their arrival.

By midday, a small curious crowd mostly made up of housewives was clustered not far from the stalls, as though trying to decide who would be the first to venture closer. But by this time, Anaëlle was back in the wagon, getting ready to wake the prisoners in order to put them on display. Her father had agreed that the twins and the foreigner would be kept for Melusa. Lith had gone to help Toram set up their stalls.

She brought out a small vial from one of the cabinets, and carefully trickled a few drops in the first male’s mouth. He convulsed rather violently, but his eyes sprang open to reveal a pale green.

“I am going to remove your gag and your bonds. You have been captured by the Al’Seâr clan of the Do’vram. I will lay out clothes for you to wear once I have seen what your physique is like. We are in Nori Four-Ways and you will be put on display as soon as you and one other is ready. Do you understand?” Anaëlle said blandly.

The male nodded as his eyes clouded in resignation. He was younger, perhaps fifteen summers. Anaëlle removed the gag, then untied his wrists and ankles. He stood shakily, and she handed him some water.

“There is food on the table for you. What is your name?”

“Lyas,” he answered, his voice croaking slightly.

“You may keep your name for now, as it suits you,” Anaëlle said, “Take your clothes of and let me examine you.”

Lyas mechanically unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head, letting it drop to the floor. He then untied his breeches, pulled them down and stepped out. He kicked his boots off his feet, and stood naked for Anaëlle to behold. He appeared unconcerned and unashamed of his nudity. Then again, he was a servant now, property after a sort, and it was in his best interests to be clothed in such a way that would accentuate his features.

Anaëlle started with his facial features. Now that she saw him in full light, his skin seemed to glow. His face was gently squared and finely boned. His ears were small, but the lobes large enough to be pierced for the property rings to be inserted. That would be the first thing Anaëlle would take care of. But first, the rest of the body. He was lean, his shoulders not much wider than his waist, giving him a long look. His legs balanced his lean frame, muscular without being overwhelmingly so. Anaëlle walked up to him and examined his hands. He had long fingers that were relatively pleasant to look at. Perhaps he would attend when his owners received guests. He was very pleasing to look at.

“There is a tub of water in the corner there,” Anaëlle pointed, and Lyas followed her movement and nodded, “Clean yourself while I pick out your clothes.”
“Yes miss,” he said. Anaëlle nodded in approval: he would be no trouble and his owners would be very happy with him.

She headed over to the chest at the foot of Lith’s bed. Rummaging a little, she pulled out a short vest of darkish green cotton, a pair of snug short breeches of the same color, and a long green cloak with a hood made of veil material. From the chest she also brought out a smaller box. Opening it, she removed a thin collar of dark brown leather, two matching bracelets and two anklets.

Turning to Lyas, she found him drying himself. As he finished, she called him over.

“Here is what you are going to wear. Dress yourself, I will fasten the collars when you are done.”

“Yes miss,” Lyas said, and reached for the breeches. They fit him perfectly, molding his features to show his assets. He shrugged on the short vest, and hooked the silver chains across his chest. The vest ended just past his shoulder blades, allowing his midriff to be fully exposed. The breeches were low-slung too. These only emphasized his leanness. Anaëlle watched in approval, and picked up the leather collar. She put it around his neck and hooked it, allowing the medium-sized ring to rest in the hollow of Lyas’s throat. She tied the bracelets and anklets around his wrists and ankles loosely enough so that they wouldn’t rub uncomfortably.

“Sit on the chair,” she said. He did so, sitting straight. Anaëlle brought out the powders kit, and sat in front of him. Taking out various powders, she settled on dusting his cheeks lightly with a light brown powder, and circling his eyes with vibrant green liner. His look was now more intense. She knew that other servant merchants piled powders and creams on their merchandise, but she found that less powder was more honest, as it allowed prospective buyers to see the servant closer to their natural state. A little color to accentuate them so they caught the eye just made them more alluring.

Motioning for Lyas to stand, Anaëlle handed him the veil cloak, while she went to fetch the leads. He flung the around him, fastening it around his neck. Anaëlle returned with three dark brown leather leads that matched his collars. She hooked one of the two shorter ones on his anklets.

“These are just the right length so you can get used to the size of the steps you are required to take. Keep it on until you are told otherwise,” She instructed as she fastened the clips to the rings. Drawing out a three-way lead, she hooked the two shorter ends to his bracelet rings, and the longer end to his collar. Last, she unwound a much longer lead, which she hooked to the central ring of the three-way lead.

“This one too, is of the required length. If you are not sold today, this one will be used when I take you out for walks, again so you may become accustomed to the distance you must keep between your owner and you,” she said.

Lyas observed it all silently. Anaëlle hoped that, if he were sold, he wouldn’t have an owner who wanted entertainment. Lyas was going to make an ideal demure servant.

“I’ll let you get used to this, while I wake one of your companions,” she said, and retrieved the vial once more. This time, she woke the hook-nosed male. An intense spasm rocked his body. As he stood, she told him the same thing as she told to Lyas, while she looked over his body. He said his name was Theos, and his vibrant golden-brown eyes had smoldered when he said it, as though daring her to defy him. Now that she saw him in the light of day, she admitted that his thick eyebrows did not look as bad as they had by lamplight at night. His jaw was chiseled and he had light stubble. That would have to disappear, Anaëlle made a mental note. He was about her height, and where Lyas was tall and lean, Theos was a little stockier. It was obviously muscle though. His stomach muscles were especially well defined. His shoulders were broad and his waist just a slightly narrower. His buttocks were a marvel to behold.

Anaëlle directed him to the tub of water while she turned to the chest of clothes once more. For Theos, she selected a skimpy bottom garment of vibrant blue that only covered his genitals, for the sake of the display. If the buyers wanted to see him naked, they would do so in an enclosed stall. For the top, Anaëlle found a sleeveless top of the same color that ended right at his belly button. She pulled out a dark blue veil cloak, as well as the requisite leather collar, bracelets, and anklets. As he pulled on the clothes, Anaëlle also searched for two pairs of sandals they could wear to get to the showing stall. She found them and handed a pair to Lyas and another to Theos.

“Sit down Theos,” she said firmly. He sat, the glower still in his eyes. She hoped that would not lower his price. Anaëlle chose a golden liner and powder to line and circle his eyes, bringing out the gold flecks of his irises. She dusted golden powder high on his cheekbones too. She stood, and he defiantly stayed seated.
“Theos, when I rise, you must rise as well. I will not punish you because I cannot afford to mark you before showing you, but I expect discipline and obedience from you, as will your owner. Now rise and put the cloak on,” she said, handing him the cloak. His eyes smoldered all the more intensely as he stood without a word and snatched the cloak out of her hands. Anaëlle picked up the collars and leads, and proceeded to attach them in all the right places.

“Keep your heads down as you walk through. Once in the stall, you’ll be assigned a watcher and they will look after your lead. Don’t speak unless spoken to, and keep your eyes lowered at all times. And do not, never, defy an order from your owner, or from anyone,” Anaëlle instructed, firmly directing the last part at Theos.

“Yes miss,” said Lyas softly.

“Yes,” said Theos. He was still watching her.

“Yes miss,” said Anaëlle, “Keep your eyes on the ground Theos.”

“Yes miss,” Theos spat out the word, and glanced at the ground. Anaëlle sighed inwardly. There was a long way to go before Theos would truly be fit for sale.
Anaëlle opened the door, and found Eól standing outside it, hand poised to knock.

“Oh hello!” He said, “Would you like some help?”

“If you could just watch over the others, that’d be great, thanks,” Anaëlle smiled at him. She led Lyas and Theos down the steps, then turned to catch Eól’s arm.
“There’s a foreign captive in there. Please keep him secret,” her clear eyes locked with Eól’s grey ones. Gravely, he nodded.

“You can count on me.”

Anaëlle smiled, “See you later.”

“Definitely,” he replied, and they parted ways.


No one stopped to stare, at least not openly, except for the younger children playing outside of the wagons. She was probably not the only one with these two captives. Anaëlle led them to a large cream tent with the crest of the Al’Seâr clan. It looked stark next to the brightly colored stalls, and it was set a little off to the side. Anaëlle walked to the side flap, and pulled Lyas and Theos in behind her. She hooked their leads to the pole holding the tent up, and then walked over to where Toram was unfolding a few chairs. The front table with the sign was already set up.

“They are here Father,” she said quietly, jerking her head towards the two prisoners, “Theos, the one in blue, is still quite defiant, I don’t know if we should –”
“We have no choice. You insisted so much on keeping the twins and the foreigner for Melusa, and we must show our clients something,” Toram’s voice was not unkind, nor berating her for what she argued for, yet Anaëlle felt her cheeks flush, “Slivia, Methal, and Erin also have prisoners of their own, and will be bringing them shortly. Five are better than four.”

Anaëlle nodded fervently, crossing her middle and fourth finger and joining them to her thumb, the sign to ward of the evil of four.

“Bring them to me,” Toram said.

Anaëlle turned back and retrieved the leads to the two young men. As she led them, she could easily tell which was Lyas’s and which was Theos’s. Lyas’s was supple but not so much that the space between them was much reduced. Theos’s on the other hand, jerked then went very slack, then jerked again. Clearly he was having trouble adjusting to the size of the steps he had to take. And keeping distances. Anaëlle suppressed a sigh. She was sure today would be a disaster, just because of him.

“Keep your veil cloaks on for now. Anaëlle, attach them to the pole again until the others arrive,” said Toram. She did so, then turned to help him finish setting up. The back part of the tent was divided into two closed off stalls where prospective buyers could view the merchandise naked. A watcher would, of course, be present in the corner to dissuade any other kind of behavior.

Within a few minutes, Slivia arrived, with Erin right behind her. Slivia’s captive was a strikingly pale young woman, with dark blonde hair that hung to her waist in waves. It had been brushed until it shone, and was held back from her face with a plain silvery clip. Her eyes were a striking cross between blue and purple, highlighted by the pale rich purple powder Slivia had brushed on her top eyelids. She wore a short purple top garment with the straps crossing across her chest and tied behind her neck. It emphasized her average bosom. She was slim but curvy, and her bottom garment consisted of a short skirt that just hit her mid-thighs, displaying long legs. Her veil cloak cleverly allowed no more than a hint of the amount of skin that was on display. Anaëlle knew that this young woman was no longer a person unto herself, yet she felt herself heat slightly in shock and embarrassment at the amount of skin showing. Despite the Hierarchy, she still believed that there were some things that just weren’t meant to be seen unless in behind closed and locked doors.

“Her name is Nessa,” said Slivia, leading her past Anaëlle and Toram to attach her to a pole nearby Lyas and Theos.

Erin’s prisoner was not much more clothed than Slivia’s. She was also a woman, of a skin that was milky white. Her hair was fiery reds and oranges, and wildly curly. Erin had obviously tried to tame it, but it would simply not respond. It was only shoulder length, and so he had finally plaited it. She was dressed in dark browns: a garment similar to Nessa’s only it extended to nearly her belly button, was strapless, and tied in the back tightly to reveal a curvaceous body. Her bottom garment was a very short pair of shorts. Her sandals however, laced up halfway to her knees. Her veil cloak had a golden shimmer to it. In all of this, her eyes were very green, and stood out of their own accord, despite her demure posture and behavior.
“Allow me to introduce,” Erin paused. He was always one for theatrics, “Arwen.”

“Well, tie her with Nessa over here,” said Toram, “Do you know what’s keeping Methal?”

“Nope, but I have not seen her since last night. Her wagon was nowhere near mine though, so I couldn’t check in on my way over,” Erin said as he hooked Arwen to the pole, “Would you like me to go see her?” He grinned.

“Take Anaëlle with you,” he replied. Erin’s grin faded somewhat, but he covered it well. It was well known that Erin was trying to win Methal’s favors, and had he been sent alone it probably would have been hours before anyone saw either of them again.

Anaëlle and Erin headed out of the tent and turned to the left. Methal’s wagon was a short walk away – everything suggested she should have arrived before Erin or Slivia. They arrived at her wagon. It was wood of course, as were all the wagons, but Methal had decorated it with a trail of painted flowers all around the upper edge. Anaëlle gestured for Erin to go first.

“Go on, I know you want to,” she said, smiling.

Erin smiled gratefully, “Thanks.”

He climbed the three steps that led to the wagon and knocked once. There was no answer. He turned to Anaëlle and shrugged.

“How about I go in and see if she’s alright,” Anaëlle suggested. No matter what Methal and Erin’s situation was, they were not married and so if she was in an indecent state, it would be shameful and dishonoring for him to see her as such. Erin hopped down to allow Anaëlle through. She knocked again, then put her hand on the handle and turned. It was unlocked. She pushed the door open, and froze on the step.

“Anaëlle?” asked Erin worriedly, “Is everything alright?”

“Get Toram, quickly. And Ireth, and Zelda,” she managed to croak.

Erin dashed off.

Anaëlle felt her stomach roiling at the scene. The shutters were only half-open; Methal must have been in the middle of opening them when it happened. Gingerly, Anaëlle stepped inside, her eyes darting around for any sign of Methal’s prisoner. Her heart beat loudly in her ears, yet all she seemed to perceive was complete stillness.

“Anaëlle? Anaëlle!” Toram’s voice pulled her from her shock. Hastily, she stepped back out from the wagon and shut the door behind her.

“I’m so sorry Father, but Zelda and Ireth must tend to Methal first,” she felt completely detached from the voice that spoke those words.

Minutes seemed to drag by like hours. Finally, Erin came jogging back, with Ireth and Zelda at his heels. Anaëlle stood.

“What is it child,” Zelda said, putting her hand to her forehead.

“It’s not me. It’s Methal. It’s…” Her throat closed up. Anaëlle tried to take deep breaths to dissipate the tightness. Zelda looked up at the closed door of the painted wagon.

“I’ll go have a look,” Zelda said, and stepped up the stairs. For the second time, the door was opened. An oath of shock escaped the Healer as she beckoned for Ireth to join her before rushing into the small space.

A sob wracked Anaëlle’s body as she tried to control herself. Methal was not declared dead yet. There was hope, there was still hope, Anaëlle told herself, repeating it like a mantra. There is still hope…


Shane woke to a nearly empty wagon. The two other men that had been prisoners with him were gone, as was Anaëlle. His spirits dipped – he liked her, despite him being her prisoner and considered merchandise. Shane still couldn’t get his head around that concept. Wasn’t the sale of humans illegal? Weren’t there laws that would protect him? And all that stuff about his lighter skin and becoming a servant because he was less than twenty years old… Wait. How did she know he was less than twenty? Shane shook his head as though that would help put some order in everything that had happened to him. With a jolt and a pang, he realized that he must have been declared as ‘missing’ back home… and his job! Ooooh Mr Ian Wood must be furious! Shane almost let out a groan of frustration, when he heard movement behind him. He shut his eyes, hoping to pass off as asleep.

He had no such luck.

“I know you are awake. I would like to know why,” said a woman’s voice. Hot fingers pulled his gag down.

“I honestly don’t know,” Shane croaked, his throat dry from the lack of water. Her hand gripped his hair and yanked back.

“You are not from here,” said the woman. Her skin was not quite as dark as Anaëlle’s but still shimmered oddly in the sunlight coming through one of the windows.

“No, I’m not,” said Shane, trying not to wince.

“Silence! You will speak when you are asked a question requiring an answer, or when told to speak! You will call me Mistress Lith-Sela as I wish to have you as my pet.” Lith sneered as she bent awkwardly to force Shane to look her in the eyes. Black met grey possessively.

She suddenly released his head and set to untying his bonds. Shane was completely bewildered. Who was this woman?

“There is a tub in the corner – go wash, then put on the clothes I lay out for you. What you are wearing is despicable,” she ordered sharply.

As soon as he was free, he scrambled over to the tub. The water was cool, but he didn’t utter a word. He had a feeling it was best not to cross Mistress Lith-Sela’s temper.


Anaëlle stood and turned to face the steps when she felt someone approaching from within Methal’s wagon. Zelda emerged from the shadows, sadness etched on her face. Anaëlle threw back her head and began to keen, mourning the loss of the clan. Ireth joined Zelda on the steps and the two of them joined Anaëlle, grasped her hands and threw their own cries of mourning. Within minutes, all the women of the village were in front of Methal’s wagon, wailing. Toram went to close down the market stalls, apologize to the locals and assure them that they would be open again soon. Then, he joined the rest of the men who formed a silent circle around the women. The whole Al’Seâr clan mourned the loss of one of theirs.


Shane was halfway through dressing when wails echoed throughout the camp. Mistress Lith-Sela glanced outside before waddling out of the wagon as fast as her pregnant state would take her. He heard the key turn in the lock twice. Sighing, he figured there was nothing else to do but to keep dressing.

Mistress Lith-Sela had picked out a rather unusual outfit for him. There were brown pants which were large flowing to just below the knee, where they laced up tight as though spray painted on. His top was even more of a mystery. It was a green-gold color, and appeared to be a short, sleeveless jacket dangling with sequins and embroidered with golden thread. There was also a light green scarf-like thing, which Shane assumed was to be worn as a sash around the waist, since it had been laid out across the top of the pants. There were also leather bracelets, anklets, and a collar, which he supposed were some kind of jewelry accessory he was supposed to wear.

Slipping on the top, he realized that there were also three golden chains to fasten across his chest. The metal was cold against his skin, and made him come out in goosebumps. Shane stood and picked up the sash. It was relatively narrow, though quite long, with a goldthread fringe at the ends. He wrapped it around his waist, and tied an awkward double-knot on his right side. The knot stood out from his body and looked really strange, but, Mistress Lith-Sela put it out and so he would wear it. He didn’t particularly feel like having his hair yanked out again. Picking up the leather bracelets, he fastened the two larger ones around his ankles, over the bottom of the pants. He then tightened the collar around his neck, but was at loss with the bracelets. Shane wasn’t very deft with one hand.
Not wanting to incur Mistress Lith-Sela’s temper, he set his mind to work on how to solve the dilemma before she returned from… wherever she went. His eyes fell upon the two young women who appeared to still be fast asleep on the floor. He glanced out the window and, seeing no one, he went over to them and gave one of them a shake on the shoulder. She mumbled incomprehensively.

“Hello?” Shane ventured, “Uh, I need some help, do you think you could be so kind as to… help me?” He winced at the idiocy of his phrase.

“Wha…” the girl nearest to him said, her eyes fluttering.

“I need to get these bracelets on me before Mistress Lith-Sela comes back, can you help me please?” At least this time it didn’t sound as bad.

The girl opened her eyes completely. They were blue-green with a hint of a darker color around the outer edge of the iris.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I’m Shane, we’ve been captured by the… the Al’Seâr clan of the Do’vram. I don’t know what knocked us out. There were two other guys here before but they’ve gone now, I don’t know where. What I do know is that Mistress Lith-Sela has one hell of a temper on her and I don’t want to be on the bad end of it again, so could you please please please help me put this on?” Shane held up the bracelets and his wrist, heaving.

The girl’s eyes widened, “You’re not one of us! Your skin, I’ve never seen the like before!” She went to reach out and touch it, before realizing she was bound.

“I’ll do my best to help you,” she said, half-smiling and gesturing at her tied wrists.

“Oh thank you so much!” Shane exclaimed. Good Lord, he was practically groveling!

She reached out and took the opened bracelet in her hands. Shane placed his wrist in it, and with a little difficulty, she managed to fasten it again. Wordlessly, he unfastened the other bracelet and gave it to her. Within a minute it was secure around his wrist.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Relle,” she smiled.

Suddenly he noticed her skin wasn’t like his either. It shone gently with light pink and green swirls. It was like nothing he had ever seen.

“Do you know what it means to be captured Shane?” Relle asked.

“Um apparently we’re going to be sold and we’re now servants. But I can’t say I totally get it,” he replied. Smooth Shane, very smooth. Not.

“It means we are no longer considered human in everyone else’s eyes. It means we scarcely have a will of our own, as we are trained to cater to our owners’ every whim and fancy. It means we are not allowed to grow old. It means we disappear when our owner tires of us.” Spots of color appeared on Relle’s cheeks as she worked herself up. Words spilled out of her, words she had never told anyone, words of an event only she and her sister remembered.

“We were only children when our parents were killed for sport by a noble’s party. Samira and I have hidden all our lives, only to be captured within a month of our twentieth summer.” Tears streamed down her face. Shane was transfixed. He didn’t know her and yet she was giving him her life’s story. He couldn’t have turned away if Mistress Lith-Sela walked in at that moment.

And so he did the only thing he knew short of talking, that might comfort a person in pain. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him in a hug.
What he most certainly didn’t expect was the punch in the stomach, nor the shove in the crook of his shoulder that made him fly backwards to land on his back.

“How dare you touch me!” Relle exclaimed rather loudly, “I’ve only just met you! We haven’t even courted!”

Once again, Shane was thrown into the world of confusion.

“I, I, I just wanted to comfort you,” he said softly, “That’s what we do back home when someone is feeling down.”

Relle had a look of utter shock and horror on her face, “But even if you’re not married? And… between men and women? Women embrace women and…?” She let the question hanging, as though unable to formulate any other possibilities.

“Of course,” Shane said, “I guess we have really different customs, eh?” He gave her a half-smile. He didn’t get one back.

“I’m not supposed to be awake,” said Relle suddenly, “My sister is still sleeping. I’ll go to sleep now.”

“Hey well if this can help,” Shane began, “I know where the sleeproot is.”

Relle looked at him dubiously.

“No really, I saw her take it out when she had to give me more. It would be more realistic if you were out with sleeproot when Mistress Lith-Sela comes back than if you were just sleeping.”

Relle thought it over.

“Alright.”

Shane stood and walked over to Anaëlle’s rucksack. He pulled out the skin he’d drunk from earlier in the night, and brought it over to Relle. Opening it, he tipped some down her throat, until she fell against her sister again. Quickly, Shane recapped the skin and put it back in the bag. He turned around to resume his place on the floor and froze to the spot.

Mistress Lith-Sela was standing in the doorway.

A tall and muscular man was standing next to her.

Anaëlle was peeping in the background.

‘Oh fuck’ thought Shane.


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Thoughts? Comments? R&R please!