The Dark Kingdom

Chapter 2

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You might know what a Slave Auction is, and you might not.

I shall tell you.

A Slave Auction is when they (and by they, I mean the peasants of the kingdoms) clean up all the maidens, which are women eleven to eighteen, and bring them to an auction. It is at this auction that maidens are sold as slaves. Sometimes the Royals go and sometimes they do not, but when they go they almost always take at least twenty maidens. When the Royals do not go the average of maidens sold is around fifty. When the Royals go, the average of maidens sold is almost half that, for the counts and earls and dukes are too afraid that they will anger the Royals by bidding for a maiden the Royals desired.

I have been very lucky with the auctions. I do not make friends easily because I am frightened that if I become too attached to somebody, I will feel much grief when they are sold. I have never been sold. Little tricks help me to appear undesirable, such as keeping one eye half closed and crossing my eyes, or smudging ash all over my body so it looks as though I have some strange birthmark. I muss up my hair or slouch over. The possibilities are endless, but I never share these tips with people. For if they appear undesirable too, it is more likely that I would be chosen.

I was thinking about how I was going to destroy my appearance as I slipped quietly out of the hut into the fresh air and grey dawn that was approaching. Birds were cheeping timidly from their nests and from most of the huts I could hear a soft snoring. I spotted the hut in which the only friend that I dared have lived in. Her name was Amaya. She is feisty and can be rude, but I have known her since I was born and I will always love her. She helped me when Deirdre first started beating me and has ever since; held me when I cried, sneaking me into her house at night so I could be spared a beating. She is the only person that I have helped to not get auctioned off.

I flashed a baring grin at her home, crinkling up my nose, then turned and walked quietly into the forest. If there were any vampryes out hunting, I was as good as dead, for when vampryes wanted blood, they got it. But after years of doing this I know how to sneak stealthily almost anywhere. I know how to turn into a shadow, flitting from tree to tree in the darkness. Avoiding loud spots like leaves and stones comes easily to me, and I know how to fall flat on my stomach and mask my scent to hide from hunters of the night.

Stepping carefully from soil spot to soil spot, avoiding leaves, I whipped around as I heard a loud crunch in the underbrush behind me. I stood tense, then swiftly moved into a crouch, my eyes scanning for any small sign of movement. Glancing up informed me that the sun was almost fully up, the sky streaked with orange and pink and red.

“Dessie! Dessie? Wait for me!” the harsh whisper pierced through the crunching of leaves. Relaxing, I stood, drawing my cloak tighter around me. I could act real in front of Amaya. She would not say anything at all to me that I did not want to hear, such as reprimanding me for being out in the woods at this hour, or the rumpled condition of my clothing and hair.

With a muffled oomph, Amaya broke through the leaves, stray hair floating around her face. Her coffee-colored skin was flushed slightly with exertion, her midnight black hair looked almost blueish in the filtered light.

“Oh, Dessie. It was Deirdre, was it not? She got to you again.” I nodded mutely and she wrapped her strong, firm arms around me. Almost like a boy, but not quite as tough.