Marysvale (36 page)

I felt both reluctant and
curious—something inside of me needed to know.

Jane led me to the town
square.

It was the same place where I had been
chased just hours before. Merchants now filled the plaza, if you
could really call them that. It was a pitiful sight. Most of the
products being sold were worn out with little use left in them.
There were odd trinkets, handmade items, bowls, cooking things,
cloth, and tools. Few people browsed.

In the center of the square sat a
raised platform, one that hadn’t been there earlier. People milled
about it. A large number of them were dressed in fine clothes, with
a healthy color to their skin. They were laughing and lost in
conversation with each other.

“
Are those the
nobles?”

Jane nodded.

Townspeople were also in attendance and
they, too, talked amongst themselves, though they kept their
distance from the nobles.

As my eyes drifted over the crowd, they
fell upon a small, solemn group of people. Many had moist eyes and
dabbed at their tears with scraps of cloth. Among them, I noticed
the family of the man who had been taken the previous
night.

Jane watched me. “Now you see the true
cost of this vile practice. Those are the families of the slaves,
hoping to catch a glimpse of their loved ones. Wishing, at the very
least, to see if they are still alive. Torture is what it really
is: not knowing what happened to them. And if they are to be sold,
never permitted to speak to or hold them again. Watching as their
husbands, fathers, mothers, and wives are paraded about, beaten,
and sold as though they were livestock. They don’t even know if
they will be here; but they come, just in case today is the day
that their current masters decide to trade or sell
them.”

She posed a question. “If you could
decide
their
fate, what would you choose if it were
someone you loved—slavery or death?”

I said nothing, and felt dreadful as I
played out how I would feel if it were Jane, Sarah, or Hannah up
there. I knew I would rather they be dead; at least then I would
know that they weren’t being tortured or abused for the rest of
their lives.

A murmur broke out as a rather large
and muscular man walked onto the platform. He wore well-tailored
clothing and a neatly trimmed, brown beard.

“
Who is he?”

“
He is the minister who
governs and regulates the selling or trading of slaves. He and his
assistants will oversee all transactions.”

A moment later, three men were brought
out onto the platform. Chained at the wrists and feet, they were
nearly naked, except for some cloth wrapped around their loins.
Their hair was chopped short and they were shaven and clean,
presumably presented in their best form so as to fetch a higher
price. I turned to leave, not wanting to see anymore. A roar went
up from many of the townsfolk, as they yelled and hurled insults at
the men.

I stopped, confused at their reaction.
“Why are they jeering? What have these men done?”

“
Most likely, they have
committed no serious crime. The supposed real criminals are
executed, or the ones the leaders feel are a threat. Most of the
slaves simply offended the wrong noble, or committed a petty crime,
such as stealing food for their starving families. On a rare
occasion, you may see a former soldier who is sold for
insubordination, or perhaps striking an officer. They will bring
the most money as they are fit and strong.”

“
But why are their fellowmen
tormenting them? Don’t they know that any one of them could easily
be up there?”

“
I suspect that is precisely
why they do it. They don’t want it to be
them
. Those that
are in the audience labor under the assumption that this proves
they are loyal to the leadership and nobles. They believe this
demonstration of support will keep them and their families safe.
They are the ones who will dutifully turn in their neighbors if
they catch them doing something contrary to the laws, or even if
they simply suspect misbehavior.”

“
And does it buy them
favor?” I asked.

She thought about it. “Perhaps a
bit…some may be rewarded by being drafted as a town guard; or they
could be recompensed with more food and even a bit of leniency. In
the end, they fail to realize that they are simply
disposable—useful idiots to the powerful.”

A group of nobles now stood on the
stand, poking, prodding, and generally inspecting their would-be
property.

“
I’ve seen
enough.”

Desperation swelled inside of me and I
wanted to flee now more than ever—not just the square, but
Marysvale itself. Turmoil churned in me. How could I run and leave
Jane and Hannah at the mercy of those who ruled here? If given the
chance to leave a free man, could I turn my back on
them?

As we walked in silence, the roar of
the crowd faded away with every passing step. The cobblestone
streets brought back some normalcy—well, as normal as it could be
for Marysvale. People still scurried out of my way.

We rounded a corner and entered a
narrow alley. It was empty, except for two soldiers who had an old
man trapped against a wall. I recognized the soldiers from the
night before. They were part of the contingent who took the man
from his family. I also recognized the old man.

“
I know him,” I whispered.
“He helped me escape earlier.”

“
You mean Simon?”

“
You know him?”

“
Everyone knows him. He is a
nice man and has helped many—the little bit he can.”

The soldiers hadn’t seen us
yet.

“
Oi, whatcha got there
Simon,” demanded the younger of the two.

Simon had something wrapped in cloth,
which he clutched protectively to his chest.

“
Nuttin,” he
snapped.

“
If it’s nuttin, then why
don’t you show us?”

“
Cause it’s none of yer
business.”

“
Wrong,” said the older
soldier menacingly. “Everything is
our
business.”

Jane whispered in my ear, “Let’s leave
before they see us.”

“
I’m not running,” I stated
flatly. “Not this time.”

I quivered with anger. Jane looked
scared, but stood by my side.

The older soldier grabbed Simon by the
sleeve and tried to pry the bundle from him. “Give it!” he
ordered.

“
NO!” shouted Simon
defiantly.

The soldier violently ripped Simon’s
arms apart and flung him sprawling on the cobblestone. The bundle
fell and the cloth unraveled, revealing a loaf of bread.

Simon’s face and hands were scraped and
bleeding; he struggled to his knees and tried to get up. The bully
put his boot on his rump and kicked him down again. Meanwhile, the
younger one hooted with laughter. He scooped up the bread and took
a bite.

The bubbling cauldron welling inside me
exploded into rage.

I shot down the street like a charging
bull.

The soldiers, busy tormenting their
victim, and never dreaming that someone would come to the old man’s
aid, remained oblivious to my attack.

I leapt into the air and kicked out and
into the back of the older, unsuspecting soldier with every ounce
of speed and strength I could muster. He flew into the outer wall
of a home like a rag doll, bounced off at an angle, and fell in a
heap onto the cobblestone street.

I landed in a crouch.

The younger soldier turned, just in
time to see me spring up and smash my fist into the side of his
face. The force ratcheted his head around; his body followed suit
as the entirety of him twirled and slumped already unconscious to
the ground.

The older soldier was scrambling to his
feet. I leapt over his comrade and grabbed the back of his coat
with one hand and the back of his hair with the other. I hauled him
up and launched him head first into the wall.

Instantly, he fell and joined his
companion in an unconscious stupor.

I reached down and helped Simon stand.
He shakily found his feet.

“
Wonderful,” he said
breathlessly, with a gleam in his eye.

Jane ran up; she looked
terrified.

“
What is it?” I
asked.

“
You!” she gasped. “You have
no idea what you’ve done. After they wake, they will go for help
and search the town for you. They will be brutal with anyone
involved. Even more so to those who help you!”

Simon nodded in agreement. “Afraid
she’s right. Much as I enjoyed it, it’ll cause nuttin but
trouble.”

I looked down at the two unconscious
soldiers. Both had long knives in their belts. I reached down,
withdrew one, and tested the blade. It was sharp. Disarming the
other soldier of his weapon, I handed it to Simon. Then, squatting
next to the younger one, I cut several long bands of cloth from his
shirt. Using one of the strips, I gagged him.

“
What are you doing?”
demanded Jane.

“
Keeping them quiet,” I
replied simply. I then proceeded to cut his hair with the
knife.

“
By cutting off their hair!”
she exclaimed exasperated.

“
No,” replied Simon amazed.
“It’s brilliant.”

“
What’s
brilliant?”

“
Be right back,” said the
old man excitedly.

“
What is brilliant?”
demanded Jane, as the old man hobbled away.

“
I’m not convinced it is
brilliant,” I confessed. “It could be the most incredibly stupid
thing I’ll ever do; but it looks as if there is little
choice.”

She surveyed me with wide eyes, and
then her jaw dropped, and she gasped, “You’re not!”

I nodded. “I am.”

“
If you get caught, they
will kill you!”

“
Like I said…it could be the
most incredibly stupid thing I’ve ever done, which is saying
something. But if it works, selling them will eliminate one big
problem.” I didn’t bother mentioning that Lyman already wanted to
kill me.

She eyed me sternly. “That is indeed a
very big
if.
They are bound to figure it out
sometime.”

“
Perhaps, which is why you
will not be seen anywhere near me when I do it. Regardless, by the
time they do find out, I will be gone—or dead in the
attempt.”

She grimaced at my casual tone. “Well,
if you insist on risking your life, then at least do it
right.”

She stripped the uniform off the older
soldier and tossed it to me. “Be quick and put this on.”

I did as she commanded, while she
undressed the other.

A clattering noise drew our attention
to the sight of Simon returning with a handcart.

“
Makes em a bit easier to
carry, eh?” He wore a mischievous grin.

“
Can you take care of this?”
I asked, referring to the other uniform.

“
Oh yes, we can make good
use of that. Wish you hadn’t cut the shirt up, though….Still, I
suppose it couldn’t be helped.”

I gave my clothes to Jane for
safekeeping. Taking the remaining bands, I bound their wrists and
tossed their nearly naked bodies into the cart.

“
Right, what else should I
know? How is selling a slave done?”

They both looked at each other
questioningly.

“
This is not encouraging,” I
stated dryly.

Jane shifted uneasily. “It’s just that
we’ve never done it….But we’ve seen it,” she added
quickly.

“
And we know the basics,”
added Simon encouragingly. “Can’t be much to it.”

“
Wonderful,” I muttered in a
tone that suggested that it was anything but. “Well, explain what
you do know.”

What they knew turned out to be very
little. The minister, or one of his assistants, handled the trades
to ensure that both parties fulfill their agreements. In turn, the
minister received a fee for his troubles. The buyers could
negotiate with the seller, or the seller could let the minister
handle it for a percentage of the sale. That was the extent of
their knowledge. They didn’t know the protocol on arranging things
with the minister, or his usual cuts. Paperwork and regulations
were also a bit ambiguous, if indeed there were such
things.

With their limited knowledge imparted,
I ordered Jane to stay with Simon. After she returned a stern look,
I changed the demand to a heartfelt plea. I couldn’t bear putting
her in any more danger than she may already be in, and I hadn’t
forgotten my promise to Mr. Wolfe to keep her safe. Reluctantly,
she agreed.

I wheeled the cart, now laden with
soldiers, down the cobblestone alley to the market.

On the stand stood a new group of
slaves, two of them were women. Unlike the men, they were clothed
in plain white smocks. All of them looked miserable and mistreated.
I took a moment to steel myself, mustering the most vicious look I
could.