by Randi Darren
“Ninety-five percent of the value, in bank notes. No documentation other than ‘Smith.’ I believe I’d like to tip you five percent of the value. So I’d need ninety percent for me, five percent for your lovely self, and five percent for the bank.
Personal greed always did nicely. She might be willing to sleep with him, but that wouldn’t help him in the long run.
Not to mention Petra had kept him awake late into the night the previous evening. Nancy was beautiful, but Vince was still spent.
Nancy’s eyebrows shot up at that, her flirty demeanor lost in an instant. She was more than likely well paid. Few without morals would willingly turn down forty thousand standards.
Considering it seemed like she was willing to sleep with him to knock down a few percentages, he doubted she’d be able to walk from a deal like that.
Nancy thumbed the electronic square of plastic on her desk into an off position. Then she got up and went to the door. With a turn of her wrist, she locked it.
She gave him a truly radiant smile then. “Done. Let’s get you taken care of immediately. Maybe we can talk more later tonight as well?”
Thirty minutes later and Vince was at large with seven hundred and twenty thousand standards in bank notes in a wooden box tucked under an arm. They were all in various denominations of ten, twenty, and fifty thousand standards.
Standing there, he took a minute to collect his thoughts. Nancy would do whatever she felt would further her goals. And he doubted she was above having someone assaulted who had left the bank with more than half a million standards.
Now he was glad he’d taken the time to think of an escape route if he was followed from the bank.
He had no proof he was, or was going to be, but there wasn’t a reason to take a chance.
For all he knew, she was genuinely interested in him as a person and nothing to do with his money.
A healthy dose of paranoia keeps one alive.
Taking a breath, he set off on a direct route for an inn he wasn’t staying at. Stepping in through the front doors, he didn’t pause or hesitate. He acted as if he owned the place and went right up the stairs.
At the end of the second-floor hallway was a window. That window had been open when he’d been planning his alternate escape route. Feeling quite lucky indeed, he found it was still open.
Hopping through the open frame, he dropped down to the alley behind with a dull thud.
Hightailing it through the alley, he kept himself to the back streets until he made it back to the Ranger guild.
A flash of his card, a smile for the receptionist, and he was inside. Safe from prying eyes.
As part of the services rendered to all its members, the Ranger guild offered key-operated lockboxes in a private vault.
Vince paid the admin the minor fee and entered the vault. Walking up to the wall of lockboxes, he selected one with its key inserted.
Forty-two.
All the boxes were bolted to the wall and came out on a shelf welded to a giant steel frame. These weren’t going anywhere.
Pulling his choice out of its tray, he flipped open the steel lid. A cursory glance and he’d confirmed it was empty except for the owner’s tag, which he fished out quickly.
Opening the wooden box under his arm, he pulled out two bank notes for fifty thousand standards. Then he closed and dumped the wooden box into the lockbox.
Dropping the lid in place, he shoved the whole thing back into the wall, then locked it back up and pulled the key out.
No one would be able to open his box without the key, and there were no duplicates.
Only the guild had the master key, and they only did an annual sweep to make sure boxes were paid for and working as intended.
Hiding away the bank notes and the key, Vince went back to the admin. Handing over the owner’s token and his Ranger ID, he waited.
Identity recorded, ownership logged, he was free to go.
Vince slipped back into the common room and started towards the room he was sharing with the girls.
He needed to pick up Meliae and then head over to the slave market. Fes would be resting, and Petra could stand guard.
The market would be opening up in an hour, and supposedly it was going to be a big one. Many slaves were being sold in the south since the northern market was not completely accessible.
He had a plan. It would take a huge chunk of his newfound wealth, but so be it.
Petra’s earlier comment still rang inside his head. He could buy many, many slaves. Put many men and women to work in an area that no one would bother them. Give them a chance to live a life that was denied to them.
That, or they could simply go back to whatever life they wanted in the Wastes. He wouldn’t keep them if they didn’t wish to be kept.
And with the possibility of that many mouths to feed, he’d need far more in the way of tools and supplies.
He was only just starting. And time was already against him.
Soon both sides would realize that slavery was the economical lynch pin for some areas. The military would turn to purchasing them for military recruits, and Washington would do their best to get them to join their cause.
Vince only had so much time before that happened.
Time to get to work.
Chapter 21
Vince settled into the recliner near the rear of the theater. The slaver guild had converted it after a number of their big auctions had been rained out one too many times in the past.
Regardless of weather, this auction could continue.
“A bit upscale for a dungeon,” Meliae whispered from beside him. She’d slunk into the empty recliner and adjusted herself.
“I’m sure it’s easier to sell people if they feel like it’s professionally done.”
Meliae harrumphed at that and then snuck her hand over the arms of the recliners to clasp his own. “They stare,” she said by way of explanation.
Vince looked around at the few people who were seating in seats nearby. Quite a few men immediately turned their gaze elsewhere as Vince met their eyes.
“You can’t blame them. You’re beautiful and you’re showing off a little,” Vince said, indicating with a finger the tight clothes she’d put on.
“Fair enough. And yes, I am showing off. Everyone should admire me and my tree. I was hoping there’d be another Dryad here so I could gloat.”
“That’s surprisingly petty of you,” Vince said with a grin.
“We all have our hang-ups. Mine is wanting to show you off to everyone. Besides, you love me for it,” Meliae purred at him, pressing herself up into the arm of her recliner and giving him an eyeful.
Love her for it? Do I?
That wasn’t something he was quite prepared to answer. Sure, he liked her. Impregnated her. Spent every third night with her.
But did he love her?
Seemed like a silly thing to ask himself at this point, in the whole scheme of things.
Instead, he gave her a sincere smile. “Be good and I’ll humiliate you terribly tonight.”
Meliae’s eyes flashed to a full green. She barely managed a nod with her head, her eyes slowly going back to normal.
“Promise?” she whispered softly.
“You’ll feel shame for days.”
Meliae blinked rapidly, clearly battling for control of her emotions. Turning, she settled back into her recliner, and crossed her legs. Her left hand still remained in his, her fingers slowly intertwining through his own.
With Meliae, rewards always went further than punishments. Because her rewards were punishments.
From her actions, he could guess she had been planning on ramping up the pressure on him until he had to do something.
Rather than wait, he’d cut to the heart of the matter.
“Good afternoon, everyone!” called a voice from the stage at the front of the theater.
“What are we looking for, Sweetling? I understand the plan in general. I’m not a planner like Petra, thoug
h. Even Fes might be better than me for this.”
“We’re looking for good-hearted people we can welcome aboard. It would do us no good bringing people who would be poison for us. I trust your instincts, my little Dryad. Put them to work for your tree, would you?”
Meliae blushed so heavily it looked more like she was holding her breath. Her thumbnail grazed up along the inside of his palm.
Vince turned back to the front as the auction started.
“Our first item. A lot sale for two families of Elves. They’re generational slaves at this point and well trained. We’re offering them as a group sale today, but we can negotiate a separate contract if the buyer wishes only a partial purchase.”
Vince looked at the group of twenty-three that walked in from the right side of the stage.
What the auctioneer hadn’t said was that they were Dark Elves. Of the many sub species of Elfin-kind, many distrusted the Dark Elves on a superstitious level. Whatever fool that decided to sell them as a group would only exacerbate that superstitious belief.
“Opening bid is ten standards, do I have ten?” That was a low price. A very low price. Not even a full standard per person.
The group ranged in ages and sexes, from small children to the elderly.
All were nude, as was the custom with slaves.
“I have ten, do I have fifteen?”
Vince carefully brushed the mind of each and found they were all uniformly terrified. Terrified and resigned. Whatever home they came from had been warm and kind. They had no illusions to where they’d be going from here.
Especially the women.
“You will buy them. All of them,” Meliae said, her voice hard.
“I’ll buy them,” Vince agreed, giving Meliae’s hand a squeeze. The Dryad shot him a look, and then gave him a bashful smile.
“Thank you…” Meliae said softly, turning her face back to the stage.
“Ten going twice—” called the auctioneer.
Vince held up his placard in his left hand.
“I have fifteen, do I have twenty?”
There were no higher bids.
“Once, twice, thrice, sold to the gentleman in the back.”
Vince looked to his side and found an usher coming his way. Waving the man in, Vince set his left hand on the man’s shoulder.
“I’m going to be purchasing a good number of people today. I’d like you to arrange a storage facility so my purchases remain undamaged. Do a good job and I’ll tip you one hundred standards. Questions?”
“No, sir, I’m your man. I’ll take care of it,” enthused the young man.
“Good. Go.”
Vince turned back to the stage.
The next two sales were gladiators. They had hatred in their hearts and had been born and raised for nothing but death. They wouldn’t do well with his plan. Their battle experience would be useful, but only so long as they had an enemy he could throw them at.
Lost in a thought, he missed the next introduction and looked to the stage to find a group of Ogres and Trolls. Seven in total.
They were regarded as slow and stupid creatures, but when Vince peeked into their minds, he found they were of an average intelligence. Though their thoughts were ponderous things.
Of the seven, six were of a mind that he could work with. The big Troll on the end was a nasty thing, though. She’d been abusing the others up to this point and regarded them as trash.
“I want six of them, skipping the big female on the end,” Vince said.
“You clearly see something I don’t,” Meliae said with a confused sound.
Vince hesitated, then came clean. “I’m empathic, to a degree. I can sift through their thoughts and feelings. If I push it, I can read their memories, but it takes a lot out of me. It’s why I need you here. I need you to bounce my gift off of and confirm it so I don’t waste energy. Let’s discuss this more in depth elsewhere.”
Meliae nodded her head vigorously at that. “Buy all seven. She’s a brute, but I’ll speak with her. Trolls listen to us Dryads. They’re more like plants than people.”
Vince thought on that but then held up his placard. He trusted Meliae. This was him showing that trust.
“Sold to the gentleman who looks like he prefers buying in bulk for seventy standards.”
The auction proceeded in that way, Vince buying up anyone who looked like they’d suit his purposes.
In the end, he picked up a family of Wood Elves, several Goblins, an entire colony of Beaver Beastmen, two Dryads whose trees had been found and sold with them, a group of Bearmen, an entire village of Dwarves, and a vast array of one-offs.
The final count was well over two hundred and sixty people and a mite shy of three thousand standards. The costs had been cheap in his eyes.
At this rate, it’d take him forever to run out of money.
Meliae and Vince were escorted to a warehouse in the back of the theater.
“I’m so sorry, sir, I had to put most of them here, but the rest of them are in another room,” apologized the usher.
“Not a problem. You’ve done fantastic. Could you fetch the manager for me?” Vince asked, surveying the room of milling life that he was now responsible for.
“He’s already on his way, sir.”
Vince nodded at that. Meliae was already pushing her way through the crowd, making her way straight for the big Troll at the back.
“Ah, forgive me for keeping you waiting,” panted a fat man with sweat-plastered hair and weak blue eyes.
Vince looked to the man and then held out his hand.
“Pleasure doing business with you. I assume you’ll waive the registration fees and simply write them all to my account. In addition, the return of their clothes, of course?” Vince asked.
The fat man froze as he placed his hand within Vince’s.
“I’ll be in town for three more days. I do hope you were planning on holding an auction each day as well? I have a great deal of time on my hands and I’m purchasing as many as I can before I head back to the East Coast.”
The manager took that in and then smiled broadly at Vince. “Yes, we can handle the collars, registration, and clothes easily.
“We were actually only this morning talking about having more sales tomorrow. I guarantee we’ll have much more available tomorrow and the day after.”
“Great. I’ll also need to purchase wagons from you to transport them. If you can get me reasonable rates on food for them for a journey of two weeks, I’ll do business with you on that matter as well.”
The manager smiled even wider and bobbed his head. “Of course, of course. I’ll take care of everything. Would you like to open a line of credit—”
“No. I’m giving this to you for safekeeping. I expect an exact account of everything at the end of this. If you even think of taking advantage of me, I’ll buy this building from the bank and lodge a complaint with the guild.
“My accountant will be combing through this for every single standard spent,” Vince threatened, handing over one of his bank notes.
“I’d never dreaaaeeeuuuhhhh…” the manager said lamely, looking at the amount on the note. “Sir, this is—”
“It’s not enough? Here. Another, then,” Vince said, handing over the second note. He was deliberately being vague and stupid with his money. “If you need more than that, I’ll need to stop at the bank first. And if you breathe a word of this to anyone, or my presence here, well, please refer to my earlier statement about your building and the guild.”
The manager had gone from a happy, red-faced fat man to a fearful, white-faced fat man scurrying away to get everything in order.
Looking back out to the crowd of faces looking up to him on the platform, he tried to pick out Meliae.
“Of course she is,” Vince murmured on seeing her. She was with the other two Dryads, happily chatting away with them.
“Many apologies, Lord, for interrupting your grace as you surveyed your merchandise, but I would beg a
word with you,” came a soft, breathy voice.
Turning his head to the side, he found his entire purchase of Dark Elves watching him.
At the forefront was a young Dark Elf woman, naked as the day she was born. She did her best to hide her shame at her situation.
“What can I do for you…?” Vince asked, deliberately ignoring her nakedness.
“I am called Thera, my lord. I would offer myself to you as concubine to assure my friends and family of good placement. My previous master had sought to sell me off when I reached my full maturity, so I am, as of yet, unsoiled.”
Pretty sure she just told me she was a virgin.
“No, I’m afraid—”
Another young Dark Elf woman rushed forward and prostrated herself in front of him.
“Please, lord, take my sister and I as concubines, if only to guarantee our families proper treatment. We have never experienced the touch of a man; we were to be sold as needed,” pleaded Thera.
“Listen—”
“Lord, please,” begged the group in unison.
Vince sighed and pressed a hand to his eyes.
Accept them, never touch them. They’ll shut up and work hard for you.
“Fine. Consider yourself so chosen, Thera, but not your sister, I’m—”
At that moment, the big family of Wood Elves made an appearance, pushing in amongst the Dark Elves. Two young Wood Elf women prostrated themselves next to their Dark Elf kin.
“Master, my name is Eva—” started the wood Elf next to Thera in a musical voice.
“Fine! Stop, no more. Thera and Eva are now concubines. I order you and your families to stop anyone else from attempting the same thing. Consider your families as my house servants and chamberlain.”
Vince was losing his temper. He wanted none of them and they’d die virgins before he touched them.
“The manager is coming back with clothes. Distribute them to their owners. Be fair, be diligent, take no sides.
“Tonight, everyone is going to be loaded into wagons. I need you all to arrange it and get everyone properly ordered. You’ll be leaving as soon as night falls with a companion of mine.
