Tal crept down the hillside. The sentry was sitting with his back against a wagon wheel, his head nodding as his chin touched his chest. The two other guards were sleeping near the fire. The slaves were all asleep on the ground, and at the other end of the coffle another guard sat by the other wagon. His two companions appeared to be fast asleep.
Quint was moving parallel to Tal, his task being to kill the sentry farthest from where they had come over the rise. The other three men would come out of the trees at the first hint of trouble.
Tal reached a point near his man, who suddenly started awake, perhaps sensing someone’s approach. Tal slashed the man’s throat before he could cry out, and his hands went up, a fountain of blood spurting through his fingers as he struggled in vain to hold back the blood. Then his eyes went glassy, and he fell over.
Tal quickly killed the two sleeping men.
Quint’s guard died silently, but one of the sleeping men awoke, crying out in alarm. Suddenly the slaves were awake, yelling, crying, and screaming, imagining that whatever new horror was about in the night would mean more suffering for them.
Masterson and the others came running out of the copse and quickly overpowered the guards and suddenly only Tal’s men and the slaves were alive. No one hesitated. There was still food by the fire, and all five men fell to ravenously.
Tal stood with a half-eaten chicken in his hand and saw several of the slaves were pulling on their chain, as if to rip it from the metal eyelet that fastened it to the wagon. “Stop it!” shouted Tal in the Opardum dialect of Roldemish. “If you want to live, stop it.”
The slaves stopped. Tal chewed and swallowed, convinced he had never tasted chicken this good in his life. He went over to inspect the slaves. There were close to twenty young women, none older than perhaps twenty years of age. All were very pretty. The men were all young as well, healthy and broad-shouldered; for slaves they appeared to be surprisingly well fed and fit.
Quint came over, chewing some bread dripping with butter and honey. “Who are you?” he asked a young man standing next to Tal.
“My name is Jessie.”
“Aranor?”
“Yes. The village of Talabria.”
“You all from Aranor?”
“No,” said one young woman. “I am from a village near Qulak. My father sold me to pay taxes.”
Quint looked at several more slaves, then laughed. “All heading for brothels, girls and boys alike.”
“How do you know?” asked Tal.
“Look at them. Clean them up, dress them, oil their hair, and rich merchants from Kesh will pay their weight in gold.” He paused, then said to the nearest girl, “Did any of these men have their way with you?”
She lowered her eyes, and Tal was struck by how lovely she was. “No, sir. The guards left us all alone.”
Quint said, “That settles it. I’ll bet most of these girls are virgins, and any guard touching them would get his head taken from his shoulders by their master.” He shouted, “Do you know who owns you?”
One of the young men cried, “No man owns me!”
Quint’s grin spread. He walked over to the boy, who was no more than seventeen or eighteen, and slapped him on the shoulder. “Bravely said, lad.” Then he ran his hand down the boy’s face and across his shoulders. “And some rich Keshian wine trader will pay dearly to see that skin left unblemished. Otherwise, they’d have beaten any hint of defiance out of you.”
A girl said, “These men worked for Count Holmalee. He is selling us to a slaver in the city named Janoski. I heard the guards talking.”
Tal ate enough to kill most of the hunger pangs in his stomach and then said, “Let’s see what’s in the wagons.” As he had suspected, there were supplies for the slaves, including a cage full of live chickens.
Quint inspected the other wagons. “We got lucky,” he declared.
“How?”
“Count Holmalee and trader Janoski wanted this lot pretty for the auction block in Karesh’kaar. There’s enough food here for three times the slaves. Each of these will bring four, five times as much on the block as the average house servant or field hand.” He rubbed his chin. “So, what do you propose to do with them?”
Tal grinned. “Free them. I told you, I’m starting an army.” To the others he yelled, “Find the key on those guards, and turn this bunch loose.”
The slaves started talking excitedly among themselves. One girl shrieked, and Tal saw that Masterson was trying to paw her. “Masterson!” Tal shouted. “Keep your hands to yourself. If she doesn’t turn you into a eunuch, I will.”
“She’s a slave! And a damn pleasure slave, for that matter.”
“No she’s not,” said Tal. “She’s free.”
At that, the slaves all started talking at the same time.