The sun had only just risen when Jorah returned to the inn. His muscles were sore from pulling carts through the street all through the night—just one of the many odd jobs he’d taken up since they’d come to the town in order to earn some coin for future travels. He and his traveling companions did what they could to save up and resupply themselves, but Jorah always made sure Alex and Kaidia’s burdens were as light as he could make them. He’d often stay out after they’d gone to sleep, working, and would return before they woke. This morning, however, as he stepped into the large common area that joined their two rooms within the inn, Jorah noticed that the gentle sounds of breathing that usually greeted him sounded different. There were fewer creatures here, he thought, and Jorah made his way to Kaidia’s room first, a suspicion forming in his mind that was confirmed as soon as he saw her empty bed.

“Just what I need. Kaidia wandering about the streets of a slave town on her own,” the bear grumbled as he made his way back to the room he shared with Alex. With one large paw, the grizzly shook the wolf’s shoulder, trying to be gentle so as to not startle him too much.

“Sorry to wake you, but Kaidia’s left on her own. We’d best look for her, before she get into trouble.” He let out a huff of breath at the thought. His charge did know how to put herself in trying situations, especially considering they needed to lay low.

Together, Jorah and Alex made their way through the streets, following Kaidia’s scent trail. Jorah gazed around the marketplace, his muscles tense. He never liked the feeling of not knowing where Kaidia was at any given moment. Suddenly, a commotion drew Jorah’s attention to one of the stalls in the corner of the marketplace. Standing before a trembling, beaten slave, was a familiar, striking leopardess, who stood nearly nose-to-nose with the slave master who’d struck her, intending to hurt the slave.

As Jorah stepped up to Kaidia’s side, he turned his gaze on the slave owner and drew his lips back slightly from his teeth in an expression that could have been a smile or a snarl, and the expression immediately shut the cursing slave owner up. “Come, sir, let us be reasonable and avoid a scene. I’m sure you would not want any more eyes seeing your behavior and thinking you ungenerous.”

The slave owner’s eyes narrowed, but he seemed wary to take on three creatures, even with two slaves of his own standing at his back to protect him. Jorah stood close to Kaidia, and, knowing the reason for the scene she’d caused, also kept himself between the slave owner and his “property,” the young female slave crouching just beside them. Jorah knew that they’d likely not have enough coin to purchase the slave’s release. But he would ease into that discussion when there were fewer eyes on them, and less of a scene to be made.

Janielove Vera

The day had started out the same as many others. Nero had eaten, bathed, dressed, and had been summoned to his master’s study before long to begin playing. The leopard’s paws were sore, as they often were when the Master took trips to his extraneous properties and took to asking for the musician's skills to be put to use more often, but Nero kept playing. His heart wasn’t in the music, but he sang anyway. He was singing when his master’s guests arrived, followed by three of Zahrius’ other slaves. Nero watched them with his inscrutable golden eyes and kept strumming.

Of the three strangers, the wily wolf spoke first. Nero listened with interest to his words. The leopard had heard of the Darkstone pack, but did not know what sort of work they did for Zahrius. His master did not involve many of his slaves in his “business” matters, Nero least of all. Nero’s only purpose, in Zahrius’ eyes, was to enhance his master’s status and entertain him and his guests.

While the wolf spoke, however, Nero’s attention was drawn to the leopardess standing beside the grizzly. He met her gaze as she looked back at him with interest. She did not seem to care what Zahrius thought, or what he said. Her attention was focused on Nero in a way that made the slave uncomfortable. Attention, in his experience, could be dangerous. Especially the attention of creatures that upset his master. Zahrius would take out his frustrations on his slaves, and Nero bore the brunt of many beatings beneath the fine clothes his master dressed him up in to hide the damage.

“I see,” Zahrius said in response to the wolf’s words. His expression was dangerously friendly. “Well, Landicus has certainly performed many jobs for me in the past. However, I find his choice of… compensation to be a great expense on my part. There are others who work with far more efficiency for a far better price.”

Nero’s pelt prickled with surprise when the leopardess stepped forward, interrupting this exchange. Her eyes shone with determination and confidence as she addressed not his master, but Nero and the other slaves, "No one is meant to own another. The collars around your necks were never meant to be there. Your way to freedom is yours to take. Do not be afraid. Take what is yours, my brothers and sisters, or you will be in bondage for all of time."

Truth shone from her, brighter than Nero had ever seen it. This was some power beyond even his own ability to sense the intentions of others. This was a gift, and Nero knew the truth of the gods were behind her. Despite knowing this, Nero sat silent and watchful, careful not to draw his master’s attention. Nero could sense the rage boiling just beneath the surface of Zahrius’ calm expression, and he knew it would turn out badly for him, and the other slaves, if any of them dared to speak after such a pronouncement.

The baboon glanced at Kaidia in disdain as she addressed his slaves. He sat down at his table and stuck his fork forcefully into a haunch of meat. His eyes were shadowed as he lifted the fork to his mouth and took a bite.

“You presume much, little lady, to assume these creatures were not meant to be what they are. They were born slaves. They have always been slaves. They will always be slaves. Your fine words will not change that fact. They know. I know. And you should know it, too.” Turning, the baboon gestured Nero over.

Bowing his head, Nero stood and stepped around his instrument. He worked hard not to limp. The soreness he always felt after a beating had to be hidden in front of guests, especially, and even seeing a wince of pain would often send his master into a rage. Nero stopped beside the table, his head still lowered, his eyes downcast.

“Tell this concerned citizen, Nero. What are you?” the Master asked.

“I am my master’s instrument,” Nero said simply.

“And what is your life’s purpose?” Zahrius pressed.

“To sing for my master, and to play for him and his guests,” Nero replied. The words felt stiff and unnatural on his tongue, and he had to work not to curl his lips in distaste as he continued to stare at his paws. Shame burned through him, fueled by the emotions that seemed to roll off the leopardess in waves. Usually, Nero could bow and scrape and think nothing of it because that was what others expected from him. But this one was different. She clearly expected more. More than he was able to give her, unfortunately.

“There,” Zahrius said, lifting his hands. “Do you think Nero would be happier being consumed by a pack of wolves? Wandering the streets with nothing to eat and no one to care for him? No, no, no. He prefers to be well cared for here, where he can share his gift. Isn’t that so, Nero?”

Nero lowered his head even more, acknowledging his master’s words. “It is,” he lied. Peeking up at the leopardess, he gazed at her for a few moments, wondering what she would do.

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Truthfully, it took a great deal of self control for Jorah to remain calm and quiet as both Alex and Kaidia stepped forward to put them in a difficult position. The grizzly gritted his teeth as he saw the baboon’s posture change, the look in his eyes growing colder. This whole “negotiation” was going south, fast.

"You must forgive my friend, here. She's good at winning loyalty, it's what we have her on for. Keeps up the morale, and people will sell food to her, unlike the rest of the pack. Now then, of course we wouldn't eat a fine specimen like Nero here. No, a slave like him would be used to keep morale up, would be very well taken care of, and make us a little money on the side, with such fine playing as that."

“Hm,” Zahrius said. The expression on his face was not a friendly one. Though Jorah did not possess any great gift when it came to reading emotions, he could read body language well enough, and the twitching, nervous movements of Nero told him that Alex’s words were not likely to win the slave master over. “You do not seem to understand what price my slaves would fetch at market, Alexander. Especially Nero here. He cost a pretty fortune because he is one of the best. Trained at a fine establishment in the north. Few singers rival him. He plays for the wealthiest creatures in all of Atheraan. In all the world, most like. You cannot offer him a better life and better keeping than he finds here, with me.” There was pride in the baboon’s posture as he reached out and drew his hand across Nero’s head. The leopard seemed to freeze, his whole body going rigid. Even his tail stilled to the point where he could barely be distinguished from a statue.

Suddenly, another slave came into the great dining hall from a side entrance. He bowed to the Master and then approached warily. The slave whispered in Zahrius’ ear. With a nod, Zahrius responded with a flick of his hand. Then he turned his attention back to Alex and the others. “You are not the only creature with the skills to get the job done. And you likely cannot afford even the meanest of my slaves. For I only purchase the best in working flesh. Your offer is a generous one, and I thank your father for it, but I have no need of the services you offer.”

The main doors to the dining hall suddenly opened. The slave who had appeared before led two other beasts into the room. One was obviously a slave, a slender lemur with wrists bound. Behind the lemur walked a large, mottle-pelted wild dog with striking, dark eyes and scars feathered out across his lower jaw. He wore thick clothes and a weapons belt slung across his back. The wild dog eyed the present company without expression and then turned his attention to the Master.

“Two days, like I promised,” the wild dog said as one of Zahrius’ slave handlers came forward to grab the bound slave. As the large ape’s hands closed on the lemur’s shoulder, the wild dog turned and snapped his teeth, causing the slave handler to start. Giving the creature a hard look, the wild dog addressed the Master.

“The terms of our agreement stand, Master Zahrius. You know the penalty for breaking a contract with me.” The wild dog drew back his lips to show rows of sharp teeth.

“Here you are, Alexander,” Zahrius said as he stood once more and held out both hands wide, as if he were embracing a dear friend. “You see that there are many fine slave catchers to be had, if one knows where to look to hire them. And Catcher Ekhari is far more reasonable in his demands than the Darkstone pack has ever been.”

The wild dog, Catcher Ekhari, glanced sideways at Alexander. He flicked one large ear and watched as the slave handler, a little more gently than before, began to lead the lemur away. It was difficult to decipher the expression on the wild dog’s face, but Jorah thought there was something odd about the rigid way he stood, his attention always seeming to be focused on the slave rather than the Master who no doubt had his payment ready.

“I can see now is not a good time to do business,” the catcher said. He had a rich voice, deep, but not quite as masculine as his rough-and-tumble appearance would have led Jorah to expect. He also gave off no distinct scent, a fact that struck Jorah as odd.

“Now is the perfect time to do business,” Zahrius laughed as he slammed one hand onto the dining table. “You can all see firsthand how generous I am with those who offer terms agreeable to all concerned. Someone who recognizes the value of my property.”

Jorah couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw the wild dog’s lip curl again in distaste as Zahrius spoke, but if he caught a flash of that expression, it was gone too quickly to tell for certain.

Janielove Vera