Berna's Stand: Section 2

See "Berna's Stand: Section 1" 

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The slave girls were awake before dawn the next morning. They bustled around the slave tent, getting ready for the trip into town where they would hopefully be sold over the next few days. Berna was friends with none of them. She didn’t even know their names. Even if she had wanted to, there was little point. By the end of the week there would be twelve new slave girls sharing the tent with her and like her family, she would never see any of them again.

“I wonder what Toslon will be like,” one of the girls was saying. So that was the name of the town, Berna thought. Damon traded all over the land, spending little more than a week at any one place. She lay still and listened to the talk around her.

“I hope it’s full of rich young men.“

“I’ve heard it’s full of rich old men.”

“Who cares as long as they’re rich right?” The girls laughed. Some of them had come from poor families, sold into slavery for the money. They never cared too much once they realised that, as a rich man’s slave, they would never go hungry again.

“I can’t wait to get out of this place. Travelling in a cart for days is just not for me.”

“Won’t it be nice to live in a proper house again.”

“And sleep in a proper bed.”

“I don’t know how Damon expects us to get ready in this light,” another girl grumbled. She was squinting into one of the little hand mirrors, trying to apply coloured powders to her face.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if you dressed like a worker and not a pleasure woman,” someone else retorted.

“Girls!” a man shouted from outside, cutting off whatever snappy reply would have been made. “Get a move on!”

The girls added their final touches and obediently left the slave tent. Berna stayed where she was. If anyone wanted her they could come and get her.

Distantly she could hear the girls being counted. Orders were given and then they were lead off to the gates of Toslon by several of Damon’s guards. The rest of the guards would be staying with the caravan, camped just on the outskirts of town. All travelling merchants with livestock – slaves being included in that category – remained outside city walls at night.

Gradually the slave tent brightened with the morning sun and the sound of the camp coming properly to life filled the air. Muffled voices came first then footsteps and the rustling of cloth as people moved about the camp. Horses whinnied as they were rubbed down and fed and birds whistled their morning greetings as people clattered about below.

It was almost peaceful but then a man’s footsteps caught Berna’s attention, sounding louder than all the rest. She closed her eyes just as the tent flap was shoved aside. Light filled the tent and then was gone. If she opened her eyes again, she knew there would be a man standing at the entrance, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Footsteps again, then hands gripped her by the arms. Pain shot through her skin. Her eyes flew open. Fingers tightened around still tender bruises and jerked her roughly to her feet. Berna cried out and stared into the scowling face of a servant.

“You’re gonna work today, slave, and you’re gonna work hard,” he snarled.

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To be continued...
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