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I am left alone with the leader. "Men are auctioned off first and women
afterwards," he tells me. "So we have an hour or two to kill before we
need head for the slave market. I will not renege on my promise to your
lover, for I am an honorable man."
He has made an incorrect assumption about the relationship between Don and myself, but it doesn't seem wise to correct him. I also wonder how his idea of honour would permit him to massacre defenceless traders. He continues: "But if you will lie with me, instead of simply accepting the highest bid I will try to ensure that you are bought by someone who will treat you well." "Sorry, but I'm not interested," I say, trying to control my fear and to sound self-assured. "That's a pity. I suspect that for a fine-looking woman like you, the highest bid is most likely to come from a brothel, so I may well eventually get my wish in any case, even if not for free. Now, would you like something to eat and drink?" It's been a long time since I had anything. [1873] "Yes, please," I say. He takes me to an empty stall within the stables and locks me inside. "I'll get us something from a nearby inn," he says. "I won't be long." Sure enough, he soon returns with a tray on which is a loaf of bread, a large piece of cheese, a knife, a pitcher of beer and two glasses. He puts down the tray, then sits beside me on a pile of hay. "Help yourself," he says. Beer isn't my drink of choice, but I suspect that it's likely to be safer than the local water supply. But I find it almost impossible to pour from the pitcher or to cut off chunks of bread and cheese with my wrists tied. "Will you untie my wrists?" I ask.
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5/18/2006 10:22:17 AM
Extending Enabled
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