Tribe Master 4: A Fantasy Harem Adventure

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Tribe Master 4: A Fantasy Harem Adventure Page 14

by Noah Layton


  ‘600 gold pieces from the Mountain-man.’

  Lorgo, the goblin leader, looked around at his companions. They all shook their heads, including him, and stood down.

  ‘Deal,’ Tumerin quickly said from my side.

  ‘The deal is settled,’ the auctioneer spoke, then moved to raise his bell.

  ‘If I might interject…’ Garrison’s voice suddenly piped up, charismatic but stern. ‘Would you consider selling me one of the males from the group? I have a female but no male in my collection. She could use some company.’

  The satyrs looked more helpless than ever, glancing around at each other desperately.

  They knew what was about to happen.

  Shit.

  Tumerin turned to the auctioneer and moved to nod.

  ‘1000 gold pieces,’ I said sharply, ripping my hand from my sword and raising it strongly. ‘Each. But I want the full set.’

  I looked quickly over at Garrison. The dwarven auctioneer’s eyebrows raised in surprise as he glanced between me, Garrison and Tumerin.

  ‘5000GP. What say you, tribe master?’ He asked Tumerin, nodding to him.

  Tumerin glared over at me suspiciously, although a permanently pissed-off expression was often the default for every centaur that I had run into so far.

  ‘Deal.’

  ‘Unless there are any other offers from Master…’

  The purple-skinned leader across from me stared over at me ambiguously. His look could have easily turned into an angered frown, but it slowly transformed into something much more unsettling; a wide, tight-lipped smile.

  ‘No other offers,’ he said calmly. ‘Another time, perhaps.’

  The auctioneer rang the bell loudly.

  ‘Sold, to Master Jack of the Arakin Tribe.’

  I had saved my first group, but there was no jumping for joy. I had to look like I belonged.

  I had prearranged my group’s image before we had arrived, and we all had a hand in maintaining it.

  We all stood stoically as the centaurs grabbed the satyrs from the platform and marched them roughly back to their wagon. The transaction would be made later.

  ‘No cage for your purchases?’ Garrison called across to me as the next lot was prepared.

  ‘Too good for them,’ I called over casually. ‘I prefer them to walk. They seem to have the feet for it, anyway.’

  ‘That they do,’ he laughed. It was a hearty, warm laugh, too – that was the thing that pissed me off the most.

  He was genuinely enjoying this.

  ‘Just three more sellers,’ Lara said. ‘We’re 5000GP down, which leaves us at, what, just over 16,000GP. How far are we going to go with this?’

  ‘As far as we can. We’ve got a lot of ore still to mine at the new land, and more to sell. Trust me, we’re going to be fine.’

  My words weren’t to give false hope, either. We would be fine. I had everything figured out.

  ‘Master Lorgo, of the Wargan Goblins,’ the auctioneer continued. ‘Please present your wares for inspection.’

  The goblins unlocked the larger of their two wagons and led out a group of three-foot tall creatures. They were barely humanoid in appearance, with small bodies and huge feet.

  A considerable amount of interest was suddenly piqued by the other tribes.

  ‘Eleven captured gorlocks,’ Lorgo announced. ‘Individually-captured and well-looked after.’

  ‘Excellent for farming on a large scale,’ Alorion whispered to me. ‘Master Marlo possessed a tribe of them before his demise on the very land that is ours. Very hard to come by.’

  The gorlocks were different to the others. They were more akin to animals than humans, and they behaved like them too. They didn’t speak but instead snarled at each other, squabbling and dashing around the section. They didn’t even know what was going on.

  This didn’t even seem like a case of slavery, but rather like moving actual livestock.

  The centaurs to my left quickly began to confer, as did the Mountaineers. Even Garrison was whispering something to Kali.

  Evidently there was a lot of interest.

  I decided to take a backseat on this one, and lo and behold a bidding war quickly broke out.

  Garrison and the Mountaineers were the last in the running after the centaurs dropped out. The Mountaineers’ nerve finally broke when Garrison placed a final bid of 14,000GP for the eleven of them.

  That was more than half of my gold reserves, and he didn’t even look phased. He was too busy picking the dirt from beneath his nails as the goblins moved the gorlocks back into their cages. Once done, they quietly discussed something.

  ‘Any other lots, Master Lorgo?’

  The goblin leader finished discussions with his companions, the nodded up to the auctioneer.

  One of the goblin guards crossed to the smaller of the two caged carriages and unlocked it.

  ‘Get out, bard.’

  Two of the goblin’s dragged the woman from the wagon and shoved her over to the lowered platform. She tripped clumsily over the edge and fell into it, setting off a few laughs from the surrounding tribes.

  The lone woman pushed herself to her feet. I recognised her kind immediately; she was human through and through, a few years older than myself with messy blonde hair that fell to her shoulders and a face scuffed with dirt. Despite this, she was wearing something close to a smart outfit if it weren’t for the tears and stains upon it; a tattered pair of black pants above her bare feet, and a dirty overshirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up her arms beneath a ragged black waistcoat. She was short and dainty, her sassiness and attitude reminding me a little of Cass.

  I would have felt sorrier for her, but she didn’t seem to be taking the situation too seriously; if anything it was a joke to her.

  ‘What is this?’ She said, staggering up to her feet. ‘What would you like me to play for you? Anything. Anything.’

  ‘You can play shut the fuck up and stand there,’ Lorgo shouted, as his tribe members laughed behind him.

  ‘Any information about your lot?’ The auctioneer called over.

  ‘Loudmouth, and a reasonable lute player. That’s it.’

  ‘Starting bid?’

  ‘50GP.’

  ’50 gold pieces?’ The bard laughed sarcastically. ‘Is that all I am worth?’

  ‘Okay,’ Lorgo said. ’40.’

  ‘Sold.’ I raised my hand immediately. ‘She sounds like a pain in the ass, but I’ll take her. Someone to entertain my people.’

  The auctioneer rang his bell, and that was that.

  ’40 gold pieces?’ The bard repeated in shock, looking between me and the goblins as they returned to place her in the smaller wagon. ‘That’s it?’

  ‘I wonder if that was a wise purchase,’ Ariadne whispered to me.

  ‘We need a bard,’ I replied, shrugging. ‘And besides, if we don’t take her off their hands I have a feeling they might use her as feed for their livestock.’

  The auctioneer’s attention moved to the Mountaineers, who were only buying, and then finally Garrison and his guards.

  Garrison didn’t even have to motion to his guards as they immediately got to work bringing out the prisoners hidden behind the thick bars of the carriage.

  They marched out, hobbling with their ankles bound and wrists locked behind their backs. All wore the same simple outfit as the first that we had seen. They were all similar in appearance to the first captive we had seen; men and women, humanoid save for their eyes blinking horizontally as they were forced into the pit.

  Twelve had been crammed into the carriage alone, and they grouped together now as they stood almost in a phalanx.

  ‘What is the nature of your lot, Master Garrison?’

  ‘24 of the finest warriors from an independent tribe in the north-west. 12 stand before you, with a further 12 in my other carriage. All are obviously available for inspection. A mix of male and female, and a potential for further quality fighters if they are bred correctly.’
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  My breath caught in my throat at the final line. I almost choked, but swallowed it down, along with my pride.

  ‘Vicious fighters,’ he continued, ‘although they require some training in being loyal. I’m sure the right tribe master would be able to… Break them in.’

  Garrison smiled around at the other tribe masters with an almost charming look of self-satisfaction.

  God, I fucking hated this guy.

  ‘And where does the bidding begin?’

  In that instant, one of the warriors suddenly broke free.

  Shouts of protestation echoed out from his companions as he rushed for the forest. For someone so muscular, I couldn’t believe how fast he was moving.

  TWANG.

  Thud.

  A bolt slammed into the back of the runner’s head. It protruded from right between the eyes, having hit him with pinpoint precision, and he dropped to the ground like a ragdoll just at the edge of the forest.

  All eyes moved to the killer, none other than Kali, Garrison’s main guard. Calmly, he replaced the crossbow over his back as if nothing had happened.

  Lara was a hunter and a damn good archer, but at the sight of that single swift scene, all over in seconds, her grip tightened on my arm.

  The warrior-slaves were level-headed, but all were holding back shock at the sight of their fallen kin.

  All except the leader, the one Garrison had slapped down to make an example of. He looked about as pissed off as I felt.

  ‘Good gods,’ Garrison complained, rolling his eyes casually. ‘Why must my possessions always run from me? Apologies for the delay, Auctioneer. I would like to amend my lot; 23, not 24. 700 gold pieces each, to be purchased wholesale only.’

  ‘Wholesale?’ The auctioneer asked, raising an eyebrow curiously.

  ‘As I said, they function most effectively as a collective, not separately – apart from that one, apparently.’ He nodded over to the dead warrior.

  A light laughter murmured from scattered members of the other tribes.

  I was playing the part of slaver, but there was no way that I was joining in on that one.

  ‘Then the bidding begins at 16,100 gold pieces,’ the auctioneer announced. ‘Our last and most expensive lot of the day. Any starting takers?’

  16,100. I could swing that. Just.

  I glanced between Ariadne and Lara, who both looked at me with confidence. They might have been voices of reason, but they still had my back.

  Blowing my entire supply of gold might not have seemed like a smart idea in some ways, but this was a double-whammy of opportunity; rescuing slaves and having warriors join the tribe.

  I glanced around the plaza. The centaurs and goblins were showing no interest, crossing their arms and shaking their heads amongst each other, but the mountaineers were conferring with curiosity.

  Their leader, a six foot five bearded man with a weathered face was murmuring and nodding to his tribe members.

  ‘Yes.’

  The word was spoken simply with a raised hand.

  I didn’t have the cash to cover anything higher than the starting bid.

  How do I get around this?

  16,100 gold pieces from the Mountaineers,’ the auctioneer said. ‘Are there any other bids before we close today’s lots?’

  The centaurs and the goblins shook their heads, and the auctioneer turned to me.

  ‘Master Jack?’

  Ariadne’s grip now sank into my arm too, just like Lara’s.

  ‘That ultimatum about selling them wholesale,’ I said, looking over at Garrison. ‘How would you feel about splitting up that troublesome warrior from the rest? I’m sure I could do a decent job of disciplining him, and he likely wouldn’t have such a negative impact on his kin.’

  Garrison considered the prospect for a moment.

  ‘For a premium of 1000 gold pieces I would be willing to agree, as long as the current buyers do.’

  We both looked across to the Mountaineers. Their leader frowned, stretching the moments that followed, then finally nodded.

  ‘Sold,’ the auctioneer called out, ringing his bell. ‘That concludes today’s lots.’

  ‘What are we doing?’ Alorion hissed down to me. ‘Just one of the warriors?’

  ‘I’ve got a plan,’ I replied quietly. ‘But first let’s get out of this fucking place first.’

  I exchanged the 2540GP for the satyrs and the bard, getting Aden and Oden to round them up at the back of the wagon.

  I headed across to Garrison by myself. He greeted me with another warm smile and an outstretched hand.

  I shook it, and exchanged the 1000GP.

  After clicking accept, Kali handed the captive warrior over to me personally.

  ‘I often don’t give advice about possessions,’ Garrison commented, ‘but be strict with it. Those with a violent streak are useful, but they are also most likely to act out.’

  ‘I’ll keep that in mind,’ I replied, forcing a smile. I looked over to the carriages and was surprised to see the warriors being marched back into Garrison’s own.

  ‘Did the Mountaineers decide against purchasing your, uhh… Produce?’

  ‘Pardon? Oh, not at all. They do not have the wagons to take them north just yet and it is late in the evening, so I will have some of my men transport them from a holding point I have nearby in two days’ time, a little way back towards that trading post to the south.’

  ‘A holding point?’ I remarked. ‘Sounds like you have a lot of land around here.’

  ‘Let us just say that I have interests across these lands.’

  ‘Right.’

  We shared a look. Garrison maintained an air of politeness and distinction the entire time. If I hadn’t seen everything that I had at The Market, he would have seemed the perfect gentleman.

  That was what made me hate him even more.

  ‘A pleasure doing business,’ he finally smiled.

  ‘And you.’

  We shook hands once more and I pulled myself away from him, marching my captive over to the carriage roughly in order to maintain my act until the very end.

  Within minutes we were back on the road, the slaves marching along behind the carriage escorted by the twins as Ariadne, Lara, Alorion and I rode up front.

  It was still dark as we travelled south along the road to my land. We had only been at The Market for a short stretch of time, and the next day was at least eight hours away.

  We travelled quickly, all four of us searching for a spot to hold up in the forest until a grove came into view that could serve as a campsite for the night.

  Aden and Oden kept an eye on our seven captives while we set up camp, six of whom remained obediently quiet.

  ‘I suppose I shouldn’t ask whether or not any of you have a lute on hand?’ The bard asked, looking around at everybody, even the slaves. ‘I could play a lullaby to send you all to sleep? Then make a break for it…’

  ‘I’m going to go ahead and say that you wouldn’t make it twenty yards before being ripped to pieces by a bear,’ I said, lighting a torch and planting it into the ground.

  ‘I’d rather take my chances out there than have my talented hands stuck in bindings like this.’

  ‘I can make that a binding around your mouth too, if you’d like?’

  ‘… I retract my statement.’

  ‘Thought you might.’

  ‘What… What are you going to do with us?’

  One of the satyrs had spoken up, a meek woman in her mid-twenties.

  ‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘I just needed to keep you in bindings until we made it out of that place.’

  ‘What do you mean by this?’

  ‘I mean I’m not keeping you as slaves. I’m giving you your freedom.’

  The satyrs looked between each other with deep confusion, although I couldn’t exactly say that I was surprised.

  They looked lost for words, so the bard did the talking.

  ‘Does that include me, too?’

  ‘I�
��m on the fence with you seeing as you won’t shut the fuck up.’

  ‘Okay, but say I did elect to do that.’

  You can have your freedom too. And even if you decide to go it on your own out there, 40GP wasn’t exactly a dent in my gold supplies.’

  That actually stirred a nervous laugh from the satyrs.

  I nodded to the twins, who proceeded to rip apart the slaves’ bindings.

  ‘Listen to me,’ I started, as they all looked at me. ‘I’m doing this not just because I don’t like slavery. I want you to join my tribe.’

  ‘But… You are not of our kind,’ one of the satyrs said.

  ‘Yeah, my tribe doesn’t work like that. I take anybody in, as long as they’re loyal to me and willing to contribute to the tribe’s wealth and well-being. You don’t have to say yes, but you’ll do a damn good job surviving out here if you stay with me and my people.’

  The satyrs looked between each other frantically, fearfully. I could tell that they were simple people with small ambitions that had fallen victim to the slavers by sheer naivety, but that didn’t matter to me.

  One thing I had learned was that a leader always stepped forward, and this time was no different; an older satyr, rubbing his wrists then running his fingers through his beard, looked me up and down, then nodded.

  ‘Very well, tribe master. You seem the only person that we can trust at this moment in time.’

  ‘That’s the truth,’ I replied. ‘But I can give you food and water and a strong home in exchange for your skills. What can you do?’

  ‘We live a simple life, and thus our needs are simple. We are good farmers, if such a thing would help.’

  ‘Believe me, with what I’ve got in mind, farming is what I need right now. Here.’ I held a hand out and shook hands with the lead satyr. The trade window appeared.

  I placed 5 units of beef and 5 units of carrots into it and, after clicking accept, the Satyr patted my hand with his other.

  ‘Before you thank me, don’t say anything,’ I said quickly. ‘Just eat. We’ve got a long walk tomorrow morning. I’m just sorry for being such an asshole back there. I had to play the part. I hope you understand.’

  ‘It is nothing. If anything you were accurate about our feet – they are good for walking.’

 

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