Chapter 2: Kenjin

Gale’s stomach churned, just as it had all those years ago. She’d never gotten used to the scents of the markets, and supposed it was a mark in her favor even though they were more or less the same: blood, waste, sex, and sweat.

   In Kenjin, it was as if the sea wind gathered them all and presented the bouquet by shoving it into her nostrils.

   For his part, Zephyr looked disgusted, but seemed to be holding his own against the malodorous miasma.

   As early as they were, the market was alive and well, full of thriving, wriggling humanity as the sun baked them while the salt air stung the scars and wounds on the merchandise.

   Looking around, Gale didn’t see an empty space. She didn’t see Zephyr either. 

   He’d left her to scout out the trouble spots, and found that while Kenjin was large it wasn’t creative. The thieves, tricksters, fake merchants, and those who bribed their way in had their own section where the crowd wasn’t thick and the pickings were slim.

   A man came up on his left side, not as big as Zephyr, but he had the look of a man who could fight if he had to. 

   Zephyr cursed silently, watching the man who was watching him until he couldn’t take it anymore. 

   “What is it? Have I done something wrong?”

   “No. You look like a thief, and I wanted to warn you that the penalty for stealing is death.”

   “Death? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

   “It is, but you’ll only do it once, so it’s not a problem we have. Consider this a friendly warning.”

   “I’m not a thief.” 

   “Didn’t say you were, said you looked like one.”

   “What’s the difference?”
    “You just told me: you’re not. Don’t be one for the rest of the day.”

  He walked off, and after one last scan Zephyr began looking for Gale.

  Careful of not stepping in the numerous droppings of man and animals, he was satisfied that no one could sneak up on them, even though the crowd was in constant motion. 

  Since that was the case, the best place for him was at her side.

                                                      *****************

  She’d stayed close to the entrance, and smiled when she saw him.

  “I was worried for you. Should I be worried about anything else?

“Not that I noticed, but I’ll have to stay with you. There’s a lot going on here, and distance could make all the difference.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If I follow you, something happens, and I don’t get to you in time.”

  “Oh.”

  “Stay close.”

  “I will.”

  She cursed inwardly when he told her he’d have to go with her, but the quiet resolve in him left no room for discussion. She’d be lying to herself (again) if she didn’t admit she was relieved, though she would have preferred him not to see her practicing her trade.

    Chapter 3: The Breaking of All

    The auction was about to start.

    Gale took Zephyr’s arm and walked to her place in the bidder’s gallery.

    The auctioneer saw her. “New customer, Gale?”

    She smiled, and the auctioneer looked at Zephyr, who gave him a single nod.

    He seemed to shrink back a little, but tried again. “Not the cleanest market, sir, but we have the best stock.”

    “That’s why I’m here.”

    His response seemed to put the man at ease. “Hope you find things worth bidding on.”

Things, Zephyr noted.

    A bell rang outside the auction tent, and more people came inside. 

    The smell ranged from uncomfortable to stifling. 

    “Send out the first batch. We’ll have to make this quick,” said the auctioneer, who then covered his mouth and nose with a dirty kerchief that hung around his neck.

    The first batch of captors stepped up on the dais, a family of five, collared and shackled together. The unbroken chain meant they were to be sold as a family, no exceptions, the reasons being exclusively shared with the owner. 

     A different bell rang, deeper this time, a single knell, and the bidding began.

                                                       *************

    It took everything for Zephyr to keep his concentration on those closest to him and Gale, and it was an effort to unclench his fist and leave his knife in its sheath.

    That she was known here was a plus, but not necessarily a prevention or deterrent to an attempt on her life.

    These markets were full of ambitious men, competitors, and vengeful family members who were the bane of slavers. 

     It was those Zephyr was most worried about. The slave auctions stuck to rigid, consistent schedules, and any slaver worthy of the trade and regardless of their power took that into since one well thrown knife could ruin everything. 

    He also had to concentrate on not throwing that knife into the barker’s throat, since that increased the odds he and Gale wouldn’t make it out alive.

That became his focus, and not the fact that his heart was racing, and the trouble he had unclenching his fists.

    He felt its presence at his side more keenly than usual, and he was ready.

    For Gale, he would always be ready.