Heath got his horse under control before most of the others in the crowd were able to control theirs. Felix had been near enough demons to not be frightened by the growl of a tiger; at least not frightened for too long. Amidst the pandemonium of the animal's roar he had realized that the bigger cage must contain a big cat of some sort but after controlling his horse he was startled by what he found. It was a big cat but one unlike any he had ever heard of before. It was like a tiger… with the hint of stripes but it was hard to tell under the matted fur and dirt, and it was definitely not orange like a tiger. Picking out an exact color was impossible its fur seemed to at times shimmer and at times to trap the light in. It would have been a magnificent beast if it were cleaned up. The head appeared too large but it was more the effect of having shaggy hair all around the face, much like a lion but not fully a main. Apparently food had been on short supply on the ship because it looked half starved. Most creatures like this would have looked pitiful but this animal was anything but pitiful. Heath could see looking at his eyes that this animal was anything but pitiful. He'll fetch a good price whatever he is, Heath thought to himself and even before the thought was finished cursed himself for beginning to think like the rest of these people.

This is why he very rarely came into towns. Resolving not to look at any more of the cages his eyes began to scan the crowd again. Most of the people were looking at the cage in fear; paying no attention to him. The crowd was beginning to quiet down again. No one was screaming anymore. But there was a slight disturbance; someone towards the back was pushing a way through the crowd towards the animal's cage. Something was wrong, in most towns if people were pushed out of the way that roughly then it would cause a fight. Heath was unsure if he should leave as quickly as possible or if he should stay to find out who was causing the disturbance. It never hurt to be informed of what's going on, but if it was the wrong person then he might have to leave in a hurry. After a moment of indecision he stepped closer to his horse and began to make unnecessary soothing gestures towards his horse placing himself in a good position to see who was parting the crowd.

Abruptly two Slavers broke through the throng of people. Not the sailors who retrieved slaves for profit. These were Slavers , men worked for the Demons. They were the police force, but all they did was protect the demon's interests in their demesnes. They were the men who collected the taxes and stole the children from the villages—some to be sacrifices for the demons and some to be recruited into the Slavers. Not everyone feared the slavers but in a town like this anyone who was smart pretended they did; which explained why there was no outcry from the people shoved out of the way. Anything even remotely resembling resistance to the slaver's authority was dangerous. If you were lucky they killed you. If you were not lucky you had to watch helpless as they dragged your wife and children away kicking and screaming. Not many could summon the courage to fight when the price was that high.

Heath very nearly gasped aloud when he saw a man walk out of the space left by the Slavers. Something was odd about this new man, the men flanking him were large and dangerous; the type to kill a big man without breaking a sweat, but despite his smaller size he looked at them as if they were less than nothing. He did not even acknowledge that they existed. There was a cruel cast to his features, as if he had spent the majority of his boyhood tormenting animals and things smaller than he and had gradually progressed to doing the same to humans. He couldn't have been too far into his thirties; his clothes looked like they belonged at a palace not a town Stage: black pants tucked into his black boots, a red shirt and a flowing forest green coat that looked more like a cape. Attached to his waist he had a sword. His kind usually do; odds are better than half that he wouldn't know how to use it. Taking another look Heath revised his opinion. Dandies like him would not get arms of his size by dancing.

Power emanated from that man. He was used to command. But something was odd about him. Heath could not quite put his finger on it. At first he thought the man just a dignitary; the people were looking at him in fear but they looked at the Slavers in fear also. As he was looking though it suddenly struck him what was odd about the man. When he first appeared they were a dark brown but they had changed. They went abruptly blood red and back again, almost before he could register the change. This wasn't just his imagination. Heath wasn't one to imagine things and he had heard of this before from men he trusted. This man was a familiar. He had bonded himself with a demon.

Rumors were everywhere about familiars. Some said that they could fly, or that they had super human strength. Most of the men Heath had talked to about them had told him differently-- And these were men who would know—familiars were just like normal humans; however demons wouldn't pick a man who was a weakling, so rumors usually were spread around about them being granted super human strength. The familiars usually perpetuated this rumor, it increased the peoples fear. Fear was how people were kept under control. The truth of the matter was that all the benefits of a bonding was on the part of the demon; humans were not strong enough to tap into the strength of a demon. Demons were too powerful. Bonding allowed a demon to control the body of the familiar from afar and see through their eyes. A demon was weakened if you killed its familiar but familiars were not killed that easily, and while a demon's familiar lived the demon was stronger for having a soul under its control.

Without even realizing it Heath's hand had gripped his sword hilt. He was looking murder towards the familiar. He had to tear his eyes away from the “man” and pry his hand off his sword hilt. Killing him wouldn't be too much of a problem, unless the man really did know how to use the sword. Surprise would be on his side but he did not think that a village would allow a demon representative be killed in front of their Stage without capturing the man who did the killing. This was a man not the demon he was looking for. All he could do here was die for no purpose; it would not even stop the auction, just delay it a few hours, if that. He moved off through the crowd hoping he could find the oats for Felix before the auction started. As he finally broke through the end of the crowd he heard the auctioneer announcing the start.

*****

The men on the podium had placed her on the edge of the Stage and then left. Her cage and a self important looking man were the only inhabitants now. They had set her right above Reth's cage. She could see the top but not inside it. There was well dressed man with two bodyguards looking at Reth. He was the only one in the crowd with any space around him, everyone else was pressed in so close they looked to be stepping on each others toes. She could understand why he had such an open area, he had the same look about him as some of the boys she had grown up with. They had all pushed her around and picked on her, until she had met Reth. The man was looking at Reth the same way those boys had looked at him, as if they would kill if they could only figure out how.

Abruptly the man on the Stage began speaking. “From the far African shores we have this lovely young peach. She would make a great breeder, she's strong and spirited. We will start the bidding at one silver piece. Do I have any takers?” She had never heard of this “ Africa ” the man mentioned, but she didn't know where she was now either. No doubt that's what they called the land she lived in. But after that her attention was abruptly focused elsewhere. No longer focused on Reth, the man's attention was now solely focused on Leila; that same stare that had seemed so intent on Reth's destruction was now focused on her. The bidding was still going on around her, growing higher and higher but she heard none of it. Eyes of brown that flashed abruptly to red and back again held hers as surely as a noose holds a neck. She refused to let him think she was intimidated. Her gaze was steady and she met him stare for stare. For the last month I have lived a prisoner; this man's gaze holds no fear for me. Over and over again she repeated that phrase to herself; willing it to be true.

“That's one gold piece and two silver pieces are there any other bids?” As Leila became aware of the final words that were sealing her doom she also noticed a change coming over the man in front of her. His eyes lost the brown color. They became inky red pools. A change came over him-- before his manner had been that of one who believed there was not a better man in sight-- now his manner was that of a different being; something that saw itself as apart from everything. Not a man at all. It believed itself a god. Leila could not keep her gaze on those bright red orbs for more than a second. She was afraid.

“Going twice…” The auctioneer's voice trailed off as his eyes caught sight of the well dressed man. He licked his lips nervously. Others had begun to notice the change going over the strange man too. The space surrounding him had nearly doubled in size. Everyone was trying to get as far away as possible. The nearest men were fighting desperately to merge into the crowd without seeming to be too eager. No one knew what would set him off. Abruptly he spoke. The sounds were not the sounds of a human. It had a strange echoing quality as if relayed from a long distance. “I would have this one.” Not a question. A demand, she was a slave and she had just been claimed; claimed by something not human.

At the word “sold” from the auctioneer the red drained out of the man's eyes. They returned to their normal brown color. His manner returned to normal, the crowd stopped fighting to get away from him but they did not make any attempt to move closer. He was in his own little circle free of any other people. Looking to either side he smirked. He seemed to enjoy the crowds fear. Removing a necklace from his shirt he threw it to the man on the dais. It was an elaborate symbol that Leila could not quite see before it was thrown. She assumed it was the payment. Is that all I am worth: a necklace?

As she was watching the necklace fly through the air the two men who had pushed a path through the crowd jumped onto the raised platform. One of the men jerked her arm through the bars before she could pull it out of reach. The Auctioneer held the necklace he had caught as if it were a live snake. Arms outstretched keeping it as far from his body as possible. The soldier maneuvered her arm to where her shoulder was jutting out from the bars. Unless she wanted a broken arm she had no choice but to comply. The man's smile had grown larger, his eyes were no longer red but they seemed to flicker from brown to red and back again; however his voice was now a normal human voice. “Mark her.”

The official seemed to be not enjoying the auction as much as before. He approached Leila with the medallion. It looked like a normal medal. Just an oddly curved symbol coming to points at the end. Even as innocent as it looked she knew that something was amiss. Struggling was not an option. The soldier who held her arm had it leveraged so that movement was impossible. There was an air of expectation in the crowd. Something was going to happen with the symbol but she did not know what. Almost she wished to be facing the red eyes off the well dressed man again: almost.

As the symbol was pressed against her bare shoulder, her world exploded in pain. Once when she was 11 she had fallen out of a tree and broken her leg. The feeling was more painful than that and all over her body, and it didn't stop. Thought became impossible. Her world existed only as pain. Unconsciously she began to scream, a constant scream hoping that that something would cause the pain to end. Her scream of pain was joined with a howl of rage. From inside the cage below her Reth roar, raised in anger twinning her scream of pain. One scream was praying for salvation, the other promising revenge.

*****

Outside of the bounds of the city Heath was once again mounted atop Felix. Tied behind his saddle was a fresh bag of oats. He was just leaving the gated area back into freedom, back to where he was at home. This is where he belonged: away from people. Wondering how far he could make it before dark his thoughts were interrupted by a scream followed directly afterwards by a roar. The same roar of the beast in the cage but different, louder and angrier. Felix's ears twitched back at the sound but they were far enough away that he did not panic. He patted the horse on the side of his neck. “There is nothing we can do about it.” Closing his eyes he added, “ Yet”, and wished he could shut the sound out as easily as he shut his eyes. Kicking Felix into a gallop he tried to outride the sounds of anguish from the city.