CITY OF THE GODS: FORGOTTEN (25 page)

Another slave was led to the front of the stage. This time it was a woman. Like Aavi, she was scantily dressed in bright colors. That was their only similarity. She was larger, with full bosoms and lots of curves. Long, straight, dark hair ran down her back like an ebony waterfall. Her skin was a tan olive color. She moved sinuously as if she was almost dancing for the audience.

Namtar began his sales pitch. “If you are in the market for a love-slave, you could do no better than Sameera from the brothels of Ashur. She came to us as part of a trade. Shall we start the bidding at three hundred?”

The calls came so quickly that Aavi could barely tell them apart, but Namtar kept track of it all. Three hundred, three-fifty, four hundred, four-fifty. Finally the bidding stopped at five hundred and fifty.
  

“Sold to Modi of the Cold Realms!” Namtar declared. The three gods in the furs came up on the stage to collect their newly-bought slave.

Aavi was relieved to see that those gods who had been rough with her had bought Sameera. Of all the bidders she had met, she liked these three young gods least of all. Besides, she didn’t think she’d like the cold, especially in what she was wearing right now. One of the three looked over at Aavi and called out to her.

“Sorry, Princess, we decided we wanted one with a little meat on her bones!” His friends laughed, one making a rude remark about virgins as they paid for Sameera and went on their way.

Aavi was relieved they had gone, but where was Kafele? She felt a pull on her collar chain. The High Sulgi had motioned to Oloth to bring her forward. She wanted to ask the High Sulgi to wait until Kafele got here, but she was too nervous and everything was happening too quickly.

The High Sulgi took Aavi’s chain and Oloth left the stage. There was a twinkle in Namtar’s eye as he looked at Princess and nodded at her ever so slightly with his beak. Then he addressed the crowd. “Since you are so interested in beautiful slaves, I offer you another. This is Princess. Besides being quite beautiful, Princess is also a virgin.”

A murmur of interest came up from the crowd upon hearing this.

“We don’t know where Princess comes from, but she has unique violet eyes and bears a self-cleaning spell, which might come in handy.” Some of the men in the crowd chuckled. “The bidding starts at four hundred gold.”

“Four hundred,” said a voice from the crowd that Aavi didn’t recognize.

“I bid four fifty!” Aavi was sure this was the Asian god they had met yesterday.

“Five hundred.” said a feminine voice. Aavi bit her lip in worry.

“Five fifty,” said another stranger’s voice.

“Six hundred for Princess Aavi,” said a dry nasal voice. Only Kafele would use her name! Her heart leapt for joy just knowing he had come to save her!
 

A very slight golden yellow glow emanated from Aavi at that moment. It was faint and only lasted for a second. Namtar, who was closest to Aavi, thought he saw a flash from the corner of his eye, but he ignored it in the frenzy of keeping track of the bidding.

“Six twenty five,” said Cai Shen.

“Six fifty,” said the female.

“Seven hundred.” Cai Shen pushed on, enjoying the competition.

“Eight hundred and fifty.” Kafele’s sudden raise of the bid let everyone know he was intent on winning. Cai Shen was not deterred.

“Nine hundred,” he countered. Aavi saw all the other bidders back away. No one else was willing to pay that much for a virgin slave girl no matter how beautiful or clean.

“One thousand gold.”

The crowd gasped a little. For a slave to go for a thousand gold was very rare. Namtar was beaming. He had hoped that a bidding war might break out over Aavi, and it had. So much had not been paid for a slave in quite a while.

Cai Shen considered whether he wanted to bid more than a thousand gold. It wasn’t so much the money, for he had endless wealth. At stake was the risk of being considered a fool for paying so much for a slave.
 

Namtar gave Cai Shen a moment to think things over, and then pressed him. “The bid stands at one thousand. Are there any further bids?”

“One thousand one-hundred for Princess,” Cai Shen blurted impulsively.

Aavi was rigid. Every muscle was on edge. She had no idea how it would end, but she knew that her entire future hung in the balance. Did Kafele have enough coins to buy her? She wished she still had the little bag of coins that D’Molay had given her to help him win, but she had lost it.

“The bid is now one thousand one hundred to the glory of Lamasthu,” Namtar declared, thinking this surely was as high as the price would go.

“I bid one thousand three hundred,” said Kafele, proving Namtar’s hunch wrong. The crowd murmured again in surprise. No one had seen a bid this high in decades. Aavi stood on her tip toes in excitement.

“Thirteen hundred gold!” Namtar exclaimed. He was almost as excited as Aavi, only for a completely different reason. This high a bid was not only significant for the day’s income, but it would help nudge the prices up for other slaves in the future by setting a new ceiling.

Cai Shen considered his options again as he looked at Aavi standing anxiously on the stage. He knew that if he paid more than thirteen hundred for a slave he would be the butt of jokes for years to come. He held up his hands in a sign of surrender and slowly shook his head from side to side while making a sour face.

Namtar took note of this and then scanned the rest of the crowd. “Any other bids?
 
No?
 
Then sold to the healer for thirteen hundred gold!” He couldn’t hide the excitement in his voice. “That’s a new high for the season!” he said. The crowd applauded, not because they were glad Kafele had won, but because the bidding had set a new record and had been entertaining.

Aavi jumped up and down in happiness, softly crying out her thanks. For just a second or two, a subtle glow encompassed her, but it quickly faded. Only someone standing close by would have seen it, but nobody seemed to notice. Several gods pushed their way up to the stage to congratulate the High Sulgi. The crowd surged forward as everyone wanted to get a look at the slave girl that had sold for thirteen hundred gold.

Namtar Auctions Aavi

Digital Alteration of
Slave Market in Rome
(Jean-Leon Gerome, c. 1884).

“Well High Sulgi, I’m ready to collect Princess from you.”

“Congratulations, Kafele, I must say I am very surprised that you won the auction. I had no idea you were so well financed.” Namtar took Aavi’s silver chain and handed it to him. “You now own a valuable, desirable object. If I were you, I’d leave here as quickly as you can,” Namtar advised. “Thieves, you know.”
 

As soon as Kafele was close enough, Aavi hugged him. “Oh thank you so much, Kafele! I’m so happy! Thank you, thank you!” She looked up at him beaming with joy.

Kafele looked down at her smiling face. “I’m just glad it worked out, Aavi.
 
Now let’s get out of this place. I have a carriage waiting outside. We need to leave right away, in case some upset buyer decides to steal you. Stay close to me.” Kafele started to walk away while holding her chain. He was still carrying the leather bag, but it seemed much less full now.
 

Aavi had become so used to being led around by her chain that she really didn’t give it a second thought as he briskly led her off the stage and exited the auction hall. As they left, she took one last look back.
 
Namtar had picked his next slave to sell and busy with bids.
 
She looked for Es-huh, but if she was there in the crowd, Aavi didn’t see her. Despite meeting Es-huh, she would not miss this place one bit. As they went outside into the courtyard, Aavi saw the horrible slave pens on one side and behind her the large, tall green stone building she had just spent the last three days in.
 
In front of them was the main arched exit.
 

“This way,” Kafele said as he quickly led Aavi over to an ornate gold and turquoise carriage decorated in Egyptian style. Two black horses were hitched to it and a coachman sat on the top, holding long reins. This carriage was bigger and quite different from the cart she had ridden in with D’Molay. Unlike the open cart, this was like a small room with four wheels. As Kafele opened a door on the side, Aavi could see that it had padded seats inside. They entered the carriage and Kafele spoke to the coachman. “You know the way, take us there.”

D‘Molay had not enjoyed being hefted like a sack of grain between Eros and Zephyrus and flown to their realm. The speed of the gods, however, had given him no chance to protest. Before he could even think of an argument against the mode of travel, he was among the clouds, cold air stinging his face. He closed his eyes against the assault, but the price for darkness was a vague dizziness. The best he could do was relax, watch the horizon, and not think about the solid ground so far below.

Soon the flying trio crossed into the Olympian realm. D’Molay had done enough jobs there to be fairly familiar with the domain. The tracker was heartened by this fact, as it boded well for his chances of finding the beast quickly and returning to his search for Aavi. Eros pointed toward a huge forest as he and Zephyrus began to descend.

“The beast has struck on two sides of Artemis’s wood,” Eros spoke into his ear. “You can see the first attack to the east.” D’Molay looked to his left. Zephyrus was pointing to an oval, blackened section of land.
      

“We’re taking you to the second place, where the trail will be fresher,” he said.

The gods veered to the right, skimming over an orchard and landing near the end of a well-travelled road. Six Greek soldiers rose from where they had been lounging in the shade and formed their ranks loosely as D’Molay and his escorts approached. The one with the best-barbered beard and most impressive helmet greeted them.

“At last. My men and I were worried the beast would die of old age before the tracker arrived,” the captain said sarcastically, not looking too impressed at the sight of D’Molay.

“You’re Ares’ men,” Eros observed, somewhat surprised. “And not hunters. Why are you here?”

“Same reason those soggy salts are,” the captain grunted, thumbing over his shoulder. Just beyond the gate that led to the desecrated Promethean Shrine, a group of sailors hovered over a great net that was spread on the ground, checking and repairing its ropes. “And them.” D’Molay tilted his head back to follow the line indicated by the soldier’s index finger, which pointed straight up. Almost completely blending with the limbs of the trees above were innumerable dryads armed with bows.

“Poseidon and Artemis have sent help too,” Eros discerned.

The captain snorted amid some derisive remarks from his men. “Hindrance, I’d say.”