The Slave

Reyna
I stare in horror as the arrow barrelled towards the elderly man, desperately scrambling across the dirty marquee where the slave market took place. Age had worn over the black intricate cotton weavings that continuously threaded in and out of the oak panellings. There was a moment of silence that seemed to go on for hours and then a horrible thud of arrow hitting flesh as the arrow struck home. Followed closely by an ear peircing scream as the man fell in a relatively handsome man's hands. I paid no attention to him. Then the wealthy looking merchant dug into his bag once more and pulled out 5 other coins and slapped them onto the podium and sneered at the slave master and pointed to the second last slave on the stand, a middle aged woman wearing ripped rags. She had rounded features, likeliness of the Elephant ribe, once a majestic tribe known for its kindness and beautiful marquees, now on the brink of starvation. Like many other tribes, it too had fallen to the sly conspiricies and sheer size of the Lion and Fox tribes. And so had mine. Fear and horror took hold of her solemn features, then she stepped of the podium, back straight and face stone cold, having excepted her fate she spat on the Merchant's face as he told her to run. He pulled out his carved dagger and impaled the woman on it. As he gutted her, gasps and disgusted snorts soon turned into laughter. I looked for one face that would not be so cruel but found none. Then I spotted the handsome man from earlier and he caught my eye. He had a deep tan, lighter than most Bulls, Hares or Deers, the Farmers of the rotten economy. Too light to be a Thinker, a Fox, Snake or Spider. A Predetor then, Tiger, Lion or Wolf then. I snorted in disgust, what kind of fighters refuse a fellow Emporor's plea for help? He had a well built body, tall and broad. He stared at me with a pained then determined look, he glanced at the Merchant, also eyeing me, my lips curled in disgust. He hurried to the slave master and whispered something in his ear, then handed the short round man some gold coins. He walked over to me and held out his hand.
"Your free to go, I bought you, and I release you." Surprised would do my emotions wrong, as I stood there look at this man's calloused hand.
"Just like that? No games?" I asked masking my fear.
"No, I am not him." He replied jerking his head at the filthy merchant.
"Evidence enough" I said with a straight face.
He chuckled as I took his hand and stepped down from the podium and walked face first in to his broad chest, it was rock hard.
"Oohf, who put a rock wall here? Thats the worst architecture I have ever seen." I huffed. I looked up at him and said, " Oh it's just you. " He chuckled as he grabbed my right hand and looked me dead in the eye. He starts walking, pulling me with him. All the humor was gone when he pulled me into a secluded alley and pushed me up against the wall, and once again looked me in the eye. "I buy you, I free you, save your life and you dare try and steal from me?" He whispers gruffly into my ear, his warm breath tickling my neck. He jerks my left hand towards him and lifts it to his face, between us. His eyes widen when he realises it was his dagger that I had taken, not his money. He looks at me.
"You were going to leave me here, without food, water, weaponary or any claim, what do you think any man stronger than me would do with me?"
I asked him.
"Would have taken you back to my tribe."
"A man is only allowed to bring a person home if they own them, they are family or if that is their Hatun (wives), I am and will be niether." I spat.
"The son of chief may do as he sees fit, and with your attempt at theivery, I take back my first instruction, you are mine." He sneered. Then released me and stepped back. I finally took him in, his broad features, tan skin, chocolatey brown eyes in contrast to his dark brown mop of hair, neatly placed and combed. The son of a cheif, then. Which cheif I thought to myself. Then he walked of, as I closely followed him. We reached a venetien, french traders that came four times a year and bought a caravans worth of rugs, pottery, fur, skins, jugs and other bits and peices . The venetien looked at the man and nodded, agreeing to see the rugs, keeping ademanour that he had plenty other options so the price had better been good for him. But I saw through all that and realised that he had been asked to pay alot for the things he wanted. We made our way to the mans stand and I realised the venetian wanted rugs and just by looking at the man's rugs I felt nogalistic, it riminded me of my tribe, a great Emporor, now a pile of smoldouring ashes and ruin. I caught a few words from ghe men's conversation, the man who had bought me went by the name Jason Firegold and that he came from the Wolf tribe. I nodded to my self, my knowledge had never failed me before, neither had my memory. Then the venetien took a look at the rugs, admiring them, he was impressed I could tell from the glint in his eyes, 2 gold coins each for stuff this great? I'll take it. But still, to not sound too desperate he asked Jason the price again.
"4 gold coins each" I interrupted. Both men glared at me. Then the venetien decided otherwise thinking I was Jason's lover or family, I flushed, angry yet flattered. The venetien tried to complain but I cut him short,
" That is our last price, if you argue you can find another trader." I said, knowing for sure he had come late and the other traders would sell him cheap but crappy products.
I could feel Jason's glare peircing the side of my head.