The office door burst open, startling the person sitting at the desk. Though, when that person saw the angry woman storm through the door, the person let out a sigh of annoyance.
"Why did you not put the mute in the auction today?" the woman demanded. "Ripish, you said that you would put her up as quickly as possible and you'd only take your usual thirty percent."
Ripish didn't immediately respond. Instead, she straightened the papers on her desk before standing up and walking out from behind her desk, unhurried. Her gaze was cool and it was clear her movements, even now, were deliberate. She was not someone who looked like she did anything spur of the moment.
"I didn't put her in the auction because I learned something that has shown me her value is more than even I had thought, Visieth," Ripish replied calmly, though her voice carried an undertone of violence.
"What is that? You know I can't wait until your next auction," Visieth snapped.
Ripish nodded. "I understand that," she acknowledged. "If you want, I'll give you twice the highest amount I made from a single sale from today's auctions for the mute. You know as well as I do, that if I put her in the auction today that she wouldn't have gone for near as much as that."
Visieth blinked. "A hundred Ziks?"
Ripish smiled. She knew that was more than this woman had ever made on any of the slaves she'd brought here. She doubted the woman would take the offer, she was far too smart for that, but it at least let her know how much of a find this mute girl was. Even with her looking so masculine.
When the initial surprise wore off, Ripish could see Visieth's eyes narrow in suspicion.
"How much do you think she'll make at the next auction? And why do you think she's worth that much?"
Ripish laughed. The first question was too amusing. No one knew how much anything would sell at an auction. It was a gamble, even though it was rather calculated. However, the second question was simpler and she knew Visieth would understand as soon as she answered it.
"You know as well as I do that we never know how much anyone will pay for anything at an auction," Ripish replied, doing what she could to draw this out. Primarily for her own amusement. "However, next auction is when I expect the deepest pockets to be there. Even the Duchess Versith should have a representative there, and you know how she likes to buy unique and rare slaves."
Visieth sighed, her demeanor completely changed in the minutes since she'd entered the office. Then after a minute she looked at Ripish in the eyes again. "So, what is it about this mute girl that makes her so valuable? Her voice certainly can't be worth it."
Ripish chuckled. She couldn't believe that Visieth couldn't see it herself, but on the other hand, it wasn't like Visieth had even see anyone like this. "Well, you said you found her in the Forest of the Lost, right?"
Visieth nodded slowly. "Yes, but I don't see what-"
"Don't worry about that," Ripish replied conversationally. "The point is, is that she had been taken by the Lost. Which means she has knowledge that we haven't even begun to realize. So, she'll sell for more than you could have imagined when you found her."
"How does that improve her value? I mean, I wouldn't mind a pleasure slave like her in my bed at night, but that doesn't mean she'd be any better if she had more knowledge," Visieth protested.
Ripish smiled, enjoying Visieth's confusion. "It's not so much as what they know or anything like that, but there are many who think of those people as special or better than others. I personally don't care if that's true, but what matters is that some of the higher bidders think that way."
A glint appeared in Visieth's eyes. "The next auction is when your more higher bidders will be there, right?"
Ripish nodded, even though she'd already told this woman that. However, while Visieth didn't always pay attention to what she was told, she still wasn't stupid. At least not at the level that Ripish would consider most of those who worked for her.
The glint in Visieth's eyes disappeared a moment later as she groan in annoyance. "But I can't stay that long," she complained. "My caravan has to make a circuit of the mountains to the north before I can take any slaves to the market on the other side of the Forest of the Lost."
Ripish wasn't surprised at this either. It wasn't like she hadn't been aware of it before. Especially since that was part of why Visieth had insisted on selling the mute girl at the auction that had been held today. That way she could collect what she could from that girl's sale and not have to worry about returning here afterwards.
"If you want, my offer still stands," Ripish said, knowing full well that there wasn't a chance Visieth would accept that offer. "That way you won't have to come back here or deal with anyone carrying the money that you would get from the mute's sale."
Visieth sighed, sounding like she actually had to think about her answer. "You know I'll stick with our original agreement," the woman said after a few minutes or her looking like she was actually agonizing over the idea. "Though, I still can't imagine that girl getting anywhere near what you had offered."
Ripish shrugged. "She still might not," she admitted. "None of us can tell what each auction will bring. Some slaves sell for much more than they would typically be bought for, while others who you know are worth far more, sell for merely a few tists. Like they'd be worth no more than your basic field slave."
While she said that, Ripish knew that the mute was going to be the top piece at the auction. Especially if she could improve the girl's value by getting her trained with what she already seemed to be good at: fighting.
"I cant help but wonder. How did you learn that she had been taken by the Lost to begin with? It's not like she could have said that," Visieth remarked, showing more intelligent thought than Ripish was used to from the caravan captain.
"Actually, it was one of my trainers that noticed she knew how to read and write," Ripish answered, feeling smug at the fact. "So, I showed the mute a report I had sitting on top of my desk to see if she could read it." Ripish couldn't help but chuckle as she recalled how shocked she was at how much the girl had actually understood what was on the parchment.
"She could actually read it?" Visieth asked, sounding more surprised than Ripish had expected, although not entirely unwarranted. After all, literacy was a rare skill, especially for a slave. Which of course, also then makes them even more valuable; depending on the buyer, that is.
"Not only that, but she understood what it was about," Ripish answered. "Though, since she's mute, she couldn't say the answer, but instead she moved her finger over the floor, basically writing her response to what I was asking of her."
Visieth nodded. "Alright. I'll take you at your word about that. I just hope you're not wasting my time with this. She better sell for more than any other slave I've brought here for you to sell."
"Don't worry about that. The chances are high that she'll at least sell for what I offered you already. Even if she doesn't attract those who would want to use her for what she night know, her skills, her looks, or even her attitude, I know of a few who like to slowly kill slaves like her. They typically pay a good price as well."
Visieth didn't say anything more, but merely turned to leave. Ripish didn't expect anything different. Visieth wasn't that interested in pleasantries, even when parting, so it didn't bother Ripish at all. Though, she did occasionally speculate if she'd be willing to buy Visieth when the inevitable occurred and someone in her caravan made her into a slave. She'd often fantasized about making her submit to her every desire.
Though, even as Visieth made her exit, she pushed those thoughts out of her mind. She didn't have time to indulge in such fantasies. Not when there were still other matters to attend to.
However, Ripish couldn't help but day dream about what others might be willing to pay for that mute girl. Especially since she was confident that the Duchess Versith would especially be interested in her. As the duchess had always been interested in those who had been taken by the Lost.
_
Charlie didn't like the sunburns on her body, even though they were starting to heal. Although, she doubted it would last for long, since she'd been essentially given a day off while whatever auctions were going on were conducted. After thinking about it, she didn't think that they burns were that bad, but that they hurt so much because she'd never had so much of her body sunburned before, as well as some places where she'd always worn some clothing over in the past.
The dark red burns on her body would eventually heal. Charlie was confident about that much, even though she couldn't say when that was, since she fully expected to be sent back to the arena to do whatever in the open sunlight. Which would just prolong the burns.
"Mother, what's wrong?" Haln asked, startling Charlie out of her thoughts.
Charlie looked at the boy and smiled softly at him while shaking her head slightly. She hoped he'd understand that she was saying that there wasn't anything wrong. Although, she couldn't help but wonder why he thought that there might be something wrong.
Whether he understood or not, Charlie doubted she'd learn that, as the stew for their dinner arrived. Charlie couldn't say what might happen later, but it wasn't like she could prevent or prepare in any way for what would come at the moment.
She hoped that the next day would bring a change that would help make things easier to deal with, but other than giving her something to do other than sit around all day with nothing to do to alleviate her boredom, she doubted that anything would truly change or be different about any of it.
While she ate the stew, Charlie glanced at Haln. She couldn't say what had prompted him to ask her if she was okay, but like may things, there wasn't a way for her to ask. Which merely made things even more annoying to deal with.
She had once thought about asking one of the people who could read what she wrote on the slate to help her communicate with the two children who had apparently adopted her as their mother, but she quickly discarded the idea. Even when she needed to ask about something important, or something that they would consider as that, they tended to still react rather with hostility towards her at the best. So, she doubted they'd take it very kindly if she sought something like that from them.
As she finished her stew, she couldn't help but wonder if whatever was going to happen with what she was going to be doing tomorrow would offer her any chances of escaping this place. Even if it wasn't directly an escape, her mind still drifted towards those possibilities. No matter how much she tried to keep her imagination from getting too wild.
She head a tapping on the bars above her and at first thought that it was time to return the bowls already, but when she turned to look, she saw a man standing above her. He was looking at her with a soft expression, although his eyes looked like they could somehow see everything about her, even though she had to remind herself that there wasn't anyway that he could do that just by looking at her. Yet, the doubts lingered despite that assurance from herself.
He had black hair, amber eyes, and deeply tanned skin. He looked like he was maybe a few inches taller than Charlie and wrinkles around his eyes that spoke of deep and lasting sorrow.
She quickly stood up, picking up her slate and chalk as she did so, not sure if she would need them. She didn't know what to expect, but had a feeling this person wasn't going to be like the woman who seemed to be in charge here. She just hoped that nothing she had been hoping for hadn't changed again without her being aware of it.
"You're much different than I imagined," he remarked, his voice softer than Charlie had expected. Almost musical.
Charlie quickly wrote out a response on her slate, ignoring his remark: Who are you?
The man chuckled, even his laughter rather musical itself. Charlie found herself drawn to him more than she had thought she would in this environment. Aside from Cithis and Haln, that is.
"I am the one who will be training you. I merely came to take a look at you for myself," he explained conversationally.
Charlie pointed at her question again, doing what she could to try and let him know his answer wasn't what she was trying to get at, no matter how nice to know what he said was. She looked at him calmly, trying to indicate that she wasn't uspet or had any other bad feelings towards his answer, but that she wanted something different in his response.
When he looked at her blankly, Charlie had to assume he didn't understand what she was meaning. So, she used the heel of her palm to do what she could to erase her earlier question and wrote another one down. It was about as simple as her first one, only a little more direct: What is your name?
The man chuckled, nodding. "Yes, I understand. My name is Polelin. What's your name?"
Charlie took her time erasing her answer as she wasn't sure how to write her name down. She considered sounding it out, but it wasn't like she knew exactly how she knew the written language here, so she wasn't completely certain that she'd be able to get it down correctly. Still, she thought she'd at least try, even though she could only sound it out in her mind rather than with her voice.
When she put the chalk to the slate, ready to write her name down in the written language of this world, she couldn't help but hesitate. Somehow she felt like she shouldn't use her first name. She couldn't explain it, but the sensation was strong, so she moved on to her middle name: Jennifer.
As she started to write it out, she wasn't sure if it was merely the act of writing it out on the slate, or if her first name was just more challenging in this language to write out, or if it was something else, but it came to her mind as she wrote it. Almost like she didn't have to look for the words, or letters in this language's alphabet, but rather they found her as she needed them.
"Jen-a-fur?" Polelin asked, looking at her answer closely.
Charlie shook her head and pointed to a few of the other letter that Polelin had missed.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking it over again. Jenn-uh-fir?"
Somehow Charlie could tell that he hadn't quite gotten it, but that it was just slightly closer. As she thought about it, she couldn't help but sign a little in aggravation at the circumstances.
Looking at her slate, she couldn't help but wish that there was more room for her to do a bit of drawing to try and get her point across. Though, she also wondered if this man was merely unable to understand the exact way to say her middle name.
With that thought in mind, Charlie decided to use a shortened version of her middle name: Jenn. She felt like he'd already gotten that part of it, so she wouldn't need to worry too much about it overall. Plus, once she was in a position where she was comfortable unsealing her voice again, she'd then be able to tell Cithis and Haln how to say it, rather than letting someone like Polelin give them the wrong idea of how to say it.
So, she erased the letters that Polelin had gotten wrong. Then she showed it to him again.
"'Jenn?'" he asked, sounding a little confused.
Charlie nodded and wrote down another statement that she was confident would help him understand why she was going with this. Or at least she hoped it would. As far as she knew, this world didn't shorten names for the convenience of friends. Her statement was another simple one, if a little more complex than the others she'd written: A shortened version of my name.
Polelin nodded. "I understand. Some names just aren't easy to write."
Charlie felt an immense weight lift off of her, even though she wasn't sure if it was just that that issue was over or if there was something else to the point there. She hoped that it was merely that the issue with her name was done and that it wasn't because of something she couldn't really identify.
"Well, I'll see you in the morning then," Polelin said, nodding to Charlie before walking away.
Charlie wished she could have asked other questions. She wondered if he only came to do what he'd said or if there was something else he was looking at. She couldn't say what it was, so she merely dismissed it. If he really was going to train her in whatever in the morning, then she might have a chance to ask any other questions that she thought up during that time.