A loud voice resounded from the vocals of the vicious looking auctioneer with a bent hat on one side of his head, as he stood on a podium beside a vendor in front of the crowd of onlookers while shrieking into the air with his loud voice alongside his hefty mallet.
He swung it in the air from left to right, towards anyone calling out the highest bid they wanted to purchase the chained prisoners each time the ecstatic buyers amidst the noisy crowd of merchants who flocked around him in frenzy. The merchants kept shouting the prices with the hope of gaining his attention in order to obtain as much needed natives as possible that would help them in their own endeavors. Their nefarious activities caught the naval officer's attention as well as his four men armed with brown muskets and three hefty white sacks of gunpowder dangling loosely around their waist.
"Sixpence, mates! And that's all it takes to get a fourth of them!",
The auctioneer cried out to the crowd expecting a next higher offer to be proposed by the merchants who were gazing at what looks tantalizing to their eyes though it wasn't pleasant for those passing by the group to stare at as he hit the mallet thrice to arrest their eyes towards his stern visage. He waited for a while, hoping someone would raise another offer to increase his chances of getting a fortune out of the private agreement which he negotiated with the vendor actually responsible for transporting the batch of captured aborigines to the market some days ago before the ship arrived but the crowd became silent until someone suddenly shouted from the back of the crowd
"I'll have them for eight pence!",
"Eight pence! Anyone else?!",
The man with the mallet mimicked the customer's response and questioned the others with an even more vibrant boldness than before and glanced at the men whose astonished visages had horrid signs of defeat written all over them but they all seem tongue-tied and stared blankly at him, waiting for him to squeal out in acceptance of the bystander bid.
"Alright fellas! That's it! Sold for eight pence!",
He hit the mallet twice on a wooden pulpit after part of the crowd roared in disappointment and beckoned on two of the Vendor's henchmen to pick out four captives under the supervision of the choosy buyer who seemed a lot careful in directing the men on whom to be brought out of the group of chained individuals standing at the left flank of the gathering without wearing any clothes on to shroud their bare bodies except for a furry loincloth made of bear fur.
"Now, For ten slaves, Let's start with Ninepence!",
"Eleven Penny!",
Another merchant retorted fearlessly but his offer was soon countered by another person standing beside him.
"Twenty shilling!",
"Forty!",
Another buyer cried hard from the heart of the rowdy crowd.
His price seems to be more attractive to the auctioneer than the two earlier bidders who were quite shocked that their offer had been thwarted by another merchant, especially the second bidder.
As for the passersby walking past the flock of merchants eagerly waiting for their turn to purchase the prisoners out of bondage, they didn't pay much attention to what the traders were doing at the riverside since they found it usual for the men to make such a demeaning trade in front of the other natives despite the fact their own kind of people were wrongly being sold to the merchants by the auctioneers and his mercenaries.
Few of the mercenaries watching the merchants squealed out of offers that varied from one another in front of the auctioneer were armed with clubs and hunter rifles. They patiently waited to see if any fight would erupt between the buyers and the seller but they didn't react quick enough to prevent Master Smollet from carrying out an unexpected affront against one of the roughly dressed hired guardsman tussling with a stubborn black man who refused to be dragged out of the midst of the prisoners to the forefront, in such a way that appalled the mob of noisy merchants including the vendor and his team of sellers especially the head speaker of the small gathering.
As the spellbound slave traders and merchants watched in astonishment, Master Smollet wrenched off the prisoners from the clutches of the mercenary to safety after delivering two ghastly blows on the man's lower abdomen with his fist using a sneak attack to deliver a crippling blow to his stomach that sent him reeling on the muddy ground in utter pain whilst his comrades came to his immediate rescue only to come face to face with the barrels of the musket held by four guards accompanying Master Smollet, who had four guns poised at their foreheads. The four muskets instilled a more paralytic fear in them and weaken their combined efforts to retaliate at once.
They became frightened at the sudden appearance of loaded muskets and instantly withdrew away from Master Smollet in defeat.
Fear and apprehension gripped the rest of the mercenaries profoundly including the merchants who surreptitiously tried to leave the arena soon after the muskets appeared out of the blue which deepened the horror they felt the moment the first attack took place.
The frightened men soon began to withdraw backwards hoping that the muskets aiming at them would be removed from their faces by the guards who seemed less amused to have them attempt to bring the Master down with their bare fists.
"Move back, or have a bullet hole in your damn foreheads!",
Master Smollet barked and stared at the men with hot bloodshot eyes after pushing the prisoners aside but the boorish auctioneer doggedly descended from the podium and confronted him regardless of the muskets staring hard at his face in spite of greeting the master with a malicious smile across his lips that made the coarse wrinkles on his face a bit horrifying to Master Smollet as he walked towards him.
Then he took his hat from his head allowing his rumpled fawn hair to get refreshed by the dry wind brewing over the area under the hot sun and pressed it against his chest as a false sign of submission
"I can see that you have missed your way, Sir",
"It's frankly none of your concern if I interrupted your outrageous transactions with these merchants",
Master Smollet replied, sneering at the merchants who avoided his gaze in shame.
"His majesty will be utterly displeased to hear of what's going on these days with the people living here",
"I suppose he would consider our gains worthwhile if he hears how we upheld the civilized culture here in this part of the wasteland",
"All I can see is you and this bunch of lowlifes trampling on the great prestige of England by having these natives stripped naked and sold out to those greedy merchants",
"We are superior to them as far as we are concerned and You know that as well. They are nothing but savages that eat with dirty fingers and know nothing except for tree barks",
The auctioneer replied daringly but Master Smollet scoffed and glared at the other men standing behind the auctioneer before returning his look back at his adversary.
"Be as it may, our actions are justified since we are their masters and they must comply to our demands",
"Is that so?",
"Ay and I beg thee to pardon our misgivings, most honest noble officer. So, Hand over that scum and go on your way",
"You don't have the guts to make me",
"Oh really?",
"Say no more, knave and look carefully before you step into thy early demise",
"The guns of your men don't frighten me. As you can see, we still outnumber you and you better not invite any more trouble unless you are prepared to give up the ghost fighting all of us",
The auctioneer remarked, gesturing at his henchmen to get themselves ready for any outburst that may occur soon after he made his statement. From afar, Captain Moldovan and his experienced seamen had seen the first brawl take place from where they stood on the deck of the ship trying to figure out why Master Smollet and his guards were creating a ruckus at the beach far off from the wooden pier.
Coincidentally, the two armed English mercenaries who had left the auction with a native a while ago saw the commotion from where they stood by a canoe by the riverside and stood to observe if it would be in their best interest to stop the fight with the naval officer and his four private guards.
"Let them go, or else—",
"Bloody hell, we can't", the auctioneer retorted and drew closer for a face-off. Master Smollet didn't back down and drew closer as well which added more to the tension felt on both sides. William cocked his musket and aimed it at the other men behind the auctioneer to stop them from coming any closer than they were before the auctioneer daringly moved himself despite being face to face with the barrel of five guns.