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The Legend of the Gamble (Safehold and butterfly0408)

Safehold

Safehold

Planetoid
Joined
Mar 22, 2012
Location
Kansas
The divine spirit composed by the hand of God himself from smokeless fire, or so the legend went, moved his fingers, which were composed something in between the ethereal and mortal flesh, through the beam of light which was the sole source of its like for the Majlis al-Jinn. Mortal explorers saw only a cave with the beam of light cascading inside, its perfection serving as the source for of all that could be seen inside the massive space. Desire... it was as good a name as any, saw it differently.

Desire saw a grand palace, the like of which was unrivaled in the world, to fulfill his every want or wish. Instead of cold rock, he saw marble. Instead of a sheer ceiling, he saw a grand dome, the interior covered by the finest artwork. Gold adorned everything around him, composing the highlight of solid gemstone baths and fountains which featured beautiful statues of the world's greatest men. All of it was possible as he imagined, for Desire was his domain, and he wielded the smokeless fire to create whatever he wanted. All save one thing. One being, to be precise.

He moved his fingers through the light again and saw the world outside. Baghdad. The great capitol city of the Caliphate. Its teeming masses came from every corner of the known world to trade in the richest and largest city ever built by man. It still was as nothing compared to Desire's palace, but it was something worth admiring when a spirit occupant of such a high plane as himself took the time to think about how it had been built by purely mortal hands. And how it was the potential key to the one thing he as yet could not have.

A pristine feminine hand then rested across his ethereal-flesh shoulder. Its owner was Beauty incarnate, and so she was named. Long, golden hair. Flawless oval eyes. A nose that may as well have been sculpted by Allah himself. Perfect lips. And her body... luscious breasts, rump hind, and toned legs all draped in the simplest of Kashmir robes that hid absolutely nothing from the eye. He had to have her. "Hello, glutton." She loved to tweak him at every opportunity, reminding him of her "superior" status. "I propose a small wager..."
 
The markets of Baghdad were alive with the hustle and bustle of it's daily routines. The constant clamoring of the people as they went about their lives, some to shop while others just to take in the sights, sounds, and smells of the thriving world around them. The booming voices of the merchants, calling out to the passers by to come forth and see the fine trinkets they had to sell. The smells in the air both pleasant scents of fragrant fruits, aromas of the exotic food that could make the mouth water, and yes even the unpleasant smell of the crushing crowds one all sides of you, they made up all that was the lifeline of the city's very core.

Many kinds of trades kept the city running, though one in particular was well known and accepted though the nature of it to some was dark and scandalous. To others, it was just another way of life. To Arya, it was a bit of both.

The beautiful Arya's life had been so blessed. While she was just one of many bastard children to one of her rich and powerful father's many harem slaves, her mother had been his favorite. He held her in high regard and even higher then his wives in his heart. He had treasured her and the sweet Arya as long as she could remember. They had laughed and loved together. Even when her mother passed on her father had cried with her as well. He promised her then that he would never throw her out into the world for it would be unkind to her because of her birth. In his eyes, she was a princess with rare golden hair and blue eyes like her mother. Rare and beautiful to behold. He would keep her and treat her as such within his household.

Yet suddenly, as is with the flip of a coin, everything had changed. Arya was awoken in the middle of the night and taken from her father's harem. He had sold her. He gave her no reason, no explanation. He did not even bid her goodbye. His mind just... changed. Arya tried to think back. What had she done to him that he would so coldly throw her out into the world he promised to save her from? She was flung into the possession of a man that sold young women like her for pleasures of the flesh. It was a world she had known all her life having grown up in a harem. Ever since she was a little girl she could not escape seeing and hearing things. While she had never been in a place to practice with them, nothing was really foreign to her.

Her golden beauty and the promise of her purity made her a true treasure within the slave markets. Her keeper had taken the time to talk up her many virtues to those present at the day's auction. He had gotten her for a steal and meant to make three perhaps even four times his investment with her. She was carted up upon the block her wrists in chains as she was placed upon display for all to see. Her keeper, coming forward without warning and ripping open the already revealing sheer, loose fitting robes to expose nearly all of her fine breasts to the crowd's view. Arya gasped but remained still as she closed her eyes and waited to her fate to take her where it would.

The slave seller began the bidding...
 
The slave seller was a practiced master of his art and as his booming voice echoed over the crowd, seemingly disregarding all of the background noise the surrounding streets provided with contemptuous ease, every man in the immediate area turned his attention to its source. In so doing the auctioneer had accomplished his hardest, most primary aim -- to attract the attention of the crowd to himself and to hold it. As his assistants, themselves slaves who had been conditioned to be absolutely desensitized to the plight of the products that the slaver was making available, made that task easier by ripping away the poor child's clothing, he proceeded with the bidding. Though before beginning the ritual of sale he managed to steal a glance at the woman's quality. Yes this one would fetch an incredible price...

"By the grace of Allah, blessed by his name, and the prophet Muhammad who is, was, and shall ever be his messenger, and the ascent of great Caliph Ar-Radi, the champion of the Prophet and Defender of the Faith, I bring to you today this fine open sale and auction for the finest pleasure slaves!" The auctioneer started over the growing mass of men, most of whom almost certainly were nowhere near wealthy enough to even make the minimum bid. They've just come for the show. He smirked. "First on the block, a fine damsel of descent from a barbarian chieftain lineage in Al-Andalus! Look upon her golden hair, incredibly rare blue eyes, and her sun-bronzed skin! And, as a special offer, on the honor of my house and before Allah himself, I can personally certify the maintenance of her virginity! Yes, my friends, this one is one hundred percent pure!"

"Let us begin the bidding at 100 Dina..."

"10,000 Dinars!"

A massive "Oooooooooo...." of surprise echoed over the crowd. The auctioneer blinked. 10,000 Dinars!?! That sum was enough to build and maintain an army in the field for some years! Who but the Caliph could afford such a price for one girl? Who in his right mind would...? And then the slaver saw who. Darius. The richest man in the Caliphate. Perhaps also the most famous. The auctioneer's keen political sense, developed over decades of monitoring the market and all the politics associated with it, was hardly necessary to know that. Darius, the Persian master at arms who had ascended from slave to tycoon in less than ten years. Who had won the confidence of the Army in battle, and then its command, and then the person respect... and if the man had any sense, fear, of Caliph Ar-Radi. He owned the largest and most lavish house in Baghdad, and that included the Caliph's private residence. If the Caliphate could be said to orbit around one man, this was it.

And now that one man stood before him, garbed only in a simple Wool tunic that bore his family's crest on the lapel. He was covered only a hood, bucking the current fashion for turbans, and was accompanied only by one servant. A servant with a considerably sized book. The tycoon's personal Ledger, the auctioneer assumed. Every merchant worth the sand from which Allah made him wanted their name in that book -- for if God had smiled on Darius, the Shaytan could only be responsible for the obscene profit which flowed to every man whose names was inscribed. And now he, a simple slaver, had both encountered the most pristine product of his career and doubled... at least, perhaps tripled... his annual income.

In a deal with a man who was known to frown on the practice of slavery and made a point about never engaging in the business. Odd, that.

The auctioneer stepped forward, as his assistants prodded the most valuable slave ever to be sold in Baghdad along behind him.
 
Arya's eyes were cast towards the ground the whole while the slaver seller went on about her attributes. She could feel the gaze of the men upon her. It made her feel vile and dirty. The sounds of their whispers reaching her as she was only able to pick out a word here or there. Stunning, beautiful, golden, among them until the mention of her virginity. Then the whispers only seemed to grow and the words being spoken changed to be as vile as she felt inside. Hot. Hard. Wet. Sex. Among other things. Her body grew tense and she felt herself growing ill with the thought that one of those wicked men was going to bury himself in her likely before this day was done. Tears almost rose to her eyes yet before they could, a high price was spoken for her.

Her head could not help but shoot up just as everyone else's eyes had turned to face the one who would dare such a price even for a virgin. The moment that Arya' eyes found his face, that vile feeling within her melted away and left her feeling something else. It was unlike anything she had known in her whole life, so sudden and intense a feeling as she looked up the man who no would could match the bid of in a thousand years. A feeling of anticipation.

The seller snapped his finger and it was all the signal enough his own slaves needed to removed the sold item from the block, taking the time to put her clothing back into place now that the show was no longer needed to sell the priceless girl. He in the meantime went straight to her new master and reached out to take his hand, shaking it at first before bowing in praise to him. They spoke words that Arya could not hear for her attention was still fully upon the face of her master. He was not what she had feared. He was young, handsome, and there was a sort of natural warmth in his eyes she saw even though he was not looking at her directly. Suddenly though, she was shoved from behind and her head forced downward by a large, brutish hand, "Where you given permission to let you eyes be raised towards your master slave," one of her handlers hissed at her.

"No," she answered quickly and meekly, without a moment of hesitation. "Forgive me," she added.
"It is for you master to forgive or punish you now slave..." he said before all seemed to turn there attention to Darius. Which would it be?
 
Darius brought his hands up to his hood and lowered it. Fingers toyed with his beard as he pretended to consider the choice. Appearances had to be maintained, after all. He furrowed his brow. "Hmm..." He gazed at all of the animals who called themselves men around him, felt their anger and frustration at how he had denied them even a chance to possess this beauty for themselves. Even for him, 10,000 Dinars was a hefty sum. But he had accomplished two things... he had saved a true treasure of a helpless girl, and he had provided this vile slaver a sum to retire comfortably on and, hopefully, if there was in fact an Allah with mercy and compassion, get out of the business.

"You shall be granted mercy, once." Darius nodded. With a flick of the hand she was led by his eunuch manservant Abdul to the horses that Darius and his limited companions had arrived on. He saw to the final arrangements with the auctioneer and then turned to follow.

Upon his return to the estate, Darius decided it was time to drop the act of reluctant buyer, tempted to such excess by the beauty of a product he'd made a public career in opposing, as any Good Muslim should. It had been a nice diversion, but he had more important purposes. Such as the sharpening of his sword. There was quite a story behind this sword, the one that he had used to free himself, at the expense of his oppressive master's life. As he sat working the smooth stone with the oil against the traditionally curved blade, he wondered how long it would take. How long until...

The girl stepped into the courtyard where Darius had taken up his roost, clearly confused. Upon their arrival, her binds had simply been cut without a word. Darius saw her look around with uncertainty as he ran the stone along the edge. The soft flow of the courtyard fountain was the only other accompaniment to soft, consistent scratching of the sharpening of the blade. The sun was beginning to set, and then Darius turned to consider his new "property." He smiled. "Ah, there you are. Come and sit, if it pleases you." His unusual accent would probably be noted at this time, he figured. Back to the blade. He flipped it over, poured oil all over it, and set to work. The small smile on his face would just barely be noticeable.
 
Arya only seemed to lower her gaze further towards the ground as he spoke to her, his voice only adding a heavy weight upon that same anticipation that had overcome her just moments before. She nodded her head to show her thanks for the mercy he would grant upon her but one and only one time. It was more the another master might have given her and for that she was thankful. As he binds her turned over to his own servant and he lead her towards the horses, there was no why she would be able to climb the horse herself with her wrists still bound tight. Without a word thought, Abdul had her lifted up onto his own horse and was soon seated behind her. As they traveled he whispered to her, "Fear not. You have found yourself in the hands of a fair master. He will not harm you and you will live in a splendor you cannot imagine." Arya did not speak back to the eunuch as she did not know her try place or limits within this new household she suddenly found herself in. The servant only smiled and let her be the rest of the ride.

Upon arrival at her master's home, she understood exactly what Abdul had meant. The home was like a palace, far more grand then her father's home had been. Then again, for a man to be able to spend such a sum upon one virgin, he had to be rich. Abdul helped her down off the horse, pulled a dagger to cut her binds, and then as he took the horse away, Arya turned to realize... she was alone. Her master had gone off to someplace without acknowledging her. The servants had all gone off to their own business and not a single one of them had taken the time to show her to the master's harem. Was she meant to locate it on her own? This was highly unusual. Seeing the main doorway however, Arya took a deep breath for encouragement and stepped forward to bravely face whatever was to come now.

At first, there was only the sound of her own footsteps as she wandered aimlessly though the front halls of the estate, yet a distant sound seemed to pull her in it's direction. It was a strange, unfamiliar sound that grew in volume as she approached a great archway that lead outside once more. Stepping through, she admired the splendor of what was before her. Her eyes moved across the space and for a brief second admired her master once again before she recalled her one gift of mercy and swiftly shifted her gaze towards the ground.

His invitation to sit beside her she viewed not as an invitation but as a command. Something learned within growing in her father's harem. Nothing is very truly and option. You do as you are told. With eyes down she crossed the space and stopped before him, leaving a reasonable distance or respect between them. She took no real seat but lowered herself to kneel upon the ground before him, awaiting what he will, not speaking without permission from him first. Not looking up even as something within her yearned to dare another look into his eyes.
 
Darius set the sharpening stone aside as he resumed toying with his beard. He'd tried, ages ago, to dispense with the nervous habit but he'd never quite kicked it. He studied her closely. She was a treasure to have, but Darius viewed her more as a symbol for now. 10,000 Dinars was a sum, but it was no sum for a human life. That had been his point, and she would be his symbol. Perhaps something more... in time. For now he simply had a potential friend, and a task to put his mind at ease. The extremely pacific courtyard was the perfect place to do this.

After several moments of silence, he sheathed the sword in its scabbard leaning up against his position on the courtyard's finely crafted stonework and finally addressed her. He could see her cringe, her fear. He would put her above that. "Do you know, that I was once a slave myself?" As she hesitated to answer, he leaned forward to position himself at the closest distance to her face that he had yet been. "I know, the ground is quite attractive. It must be, to so reliably hold your attention. My architects have truly outdone themselves!" He said with humor, studying her.

How would she respond to his attempts to reach out to her? To get her to relax?
 
Her whole body tensed as he spoke to her. So, he had been a slave once as well. That could mean one of two very drastic things. Either he felt sympathy upon his own slaves now and showed them mercy like he never saw or he took out the pain inflicted once upon him now upon those he held dominion over now. His tone was light, playful, but that could easily mean that he was taunting her. Toying with her like the little puppet she was. Even with her eyes cast down, she caught his movement as he came closer to her. Arya made a very sudden gasp of uneasy as she shut her eyes, as if to prevent herself from even looking upon the ground any longer but more to prevent her from daring to move her head just a bit to the side and tilting it up to see his face.

Her nerves were clear to seen and it would take more to break her of such fears.
 
Darius smiled. "You are going to take a lot of work. All right then..." He rubbed his hands together, and grabbed the sword positioned at his side. He brought his hand up to support a shrill whistle. A young boy ran into the courtyard from the hall, and Darius tossed the sheathed blade right at him. The boy caught the weapon with one hand and smiled. "The usual place, I think, Ahmed."

The boy took a slight bow. "Right away, sir." He also bowed before Arya, which prompted Darius to put on a wry smile. Just as quickly as he had come, the boy left.

"I swear that lad treasures that blade more than I do, and that's saying something. Anyway. Where was I. Ah yes. Why don't you tell me then what you're all about. Who are you? Where have you come from? How did you end up in the market for a dashing celebrity merchant and soldier such as myself..." He briefly flexed his arms with a sarcastic grin, "to come and retrieve you?"
 
The whole while that her master interacted with the boy, still she kept her eyes closed and down before him. She was respecting him and in doing so missed how the lad has shown her a sign of respect as well. "My name... is Arya, though if you wish for me to go by another name, your wish is but my command," she told him, her voice meek at first thought it seemed to gain confidence very little by little as she went on. "My father was a rich sheik. My mother one of his foreign slaves. It is how I have come across my rare looks for they were of my mother as well. I have lived my whole life within my father's harem and have been taught by his slaves in their..." she paused a moment and seemed to for the moment grow meek once more, "art of the bedroom. I know what to do for you master. I hope you will not find me a waste of money." She left out the details of exactly how she had gone from her father's harem to the auction block.
 
"Very well." Darius crossed his arms, studying her closely. "I want you to put that out of your mind now. That is the only command that I will give to you, to completely forget about any role which involves you as my sexual servant. That is not what you are for." He reached over to rest a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "At this moment I am not sure what you are for. You are my guest. Officially you will remain my slave -- in order to have you in my house I must either own you or marry you, and it strikes me that maintaining the fiction might prove to be an enlightening, perhaps even humorous experiment at times. But for all intents and purposes, you are free to do as you will. Trust me on this. There's a part of me that wants to accept your offer, just like all those other ingrate fools whose bids I smothered to bring you here. But I am not those men." He toyed with his beard again. "Any questions?"
 
Arya's eyes opened then and her head shifted up without even thinking of stopping herself. She had the same look upon her face suddenly as when she had heard him call out his overwhelming bid for her as she stood upon the block. The moment his hand reached out to talk her, her gaze shifted a moment to look at it as it rested upon her before her gasp shifted back to him once again. None of this made sense he had spent a fortune upon her to have her do... what? Sit there and look pretty? There was only one possible question she could ask. "Why? Why... if you did not intend to use me for my body and my virginity, did you spend so much money upon me? Even if you were to enter into a bidding war with someone, you could have spent far less upon me in the end. I don't.... understand...."
 
"To make you a symbol. To show that you can't put a price on a human life." Darius grinned. "To show that I have more money than I know what to do with. All of these things, and none of them. Because ultimately, it's not about what I want, it's about what you want. Our society is not yet ready to see the end of slavery, but little by little, I intend to undermine it. Today I think that I struck a major blow towards that end. My bid and the potential reasons for it will be talked about for months. Years, even. There's truly been nothing else like it. It could upend the entire slave market, make prices go up, make access to slaves more difficult all on its own. But some of the things I want to do will, with Allah's blessing, produce even more powerful results in time." He leaned back in his seat. "What role you have in those things remains to be defined. I would like for you to be able to help me do that. That's a request, not an order." He smiled. "I have engaged in much risk, much adventure in my life, all over the world, touching on all walks of life. It's time for something a bit more personal."
 
Arya knelt there still, looking up and listening to everything he had to say. His words only seemed to twist her face into a more and more confused look every passing moment until she eventually was looking at him as if he was the strangest creature on the planet. A two headed man would make more sense to her in this moment then him. It was simply because his whole train of thought. It was something do out there and different then anything she had ever known before or even dreamed of before. Well, maybe not that. Her parent's love yet the rules and laws that kept them apart had made her perhaps wonder what it could have been like to have been born into a way for them to have been together and love freely. To marry.

"You... are a peculiar one, master." The master was thrown in after a moment of hesitation as she was not sure exactly what to go about calling him. From all he had just told her of, she assumed that master might not be what he would prefer. Then again, perhaps it would be.

Glancing around, "So I am to just, reside within the harem? Until you find need of me?"
 
"I think it would be more like until you find need of me, but essentially yes. I wish it were not so, but I think that if I simply put you outside and left you, you would have no place else to go. I consider you now my ward, my protectee, if you would like. Legally you can only be my wife or my slave. Both because I do not anticipate you wishing to wed an ugly slob like me," he broke into a chuckle, then relaxed. "And because your current status is simple. If you ever wish to go out into the city and do... whatever it is you wish to do, then all you need say is that you are Darius' servant acting on my directions and no one will look at you differently. Whereas as wife they'll wonder why I'm not escorting you. It's all just a mess that I'd rather avoid."

He rose, stretching. "I had best let you be to take all of this in." He tilted his head, studying her, curious to see how she would react to that.
 
It was indeed a lot to take in all at once. The crowning glory on top of this whole thing was not the notion that he would every marry her but... "The city? You would... let me go out into the city? On my own? Just... walk out the door and..." she trailed off a bit, having a very odd look filled with thought upon her face as she settled into a more comfortable seated position upon the ground. "I've never been into the city before. I... I never left the walls of my father's harem in my whole life..."

Arya seemed overwhelmingly just, shocked. And then she glanced down at herself and the revealing clothing she was still wearing. Her face started to blush and she tugged her robes a bit more firmly to her body, "I don't have anything I could wear outside a harem." It almost seemed like... was she trying to find a reason to not leave?
 
Despite himself, Darius couldn't help but eye her up and down then. Sure he told himself that he paid 10,000 dinars to suit his ideological purposes. But she was also the finest woman he had ever laid eyes on, never mind only pleasure slaves. In truth deep down within him there was buried a sort of arrogance which he knew intellectually came with the territory of his degree of wealth and influence. Go ahead and claim her. Just this once. He felt the desire within him, knew that in her current state of mind that Arya would easily, if not exactly happily, accept such a move on his part. It wouldn't even really be a matter of master and slave... and yet it would be. Darius grit his teeth and promised that harder (in more ways than one) and less controlled side of himself that fulfillment would come, as soon as he got this girl to open up to him on her own free will. He supposed that it was a bit odd to have this kind of internal debate between two conflicting desires within the same man, but he didn't really care. He certainly wasn't crazy... he admiringly looked her over once more and smiled.

Yes, no doubt about that.

"I am quite certain that the right clothing could be found around here somewhere, that is, unless you desire to be garbed as you would be within the harem out there," Darius said playfully. "I joke, I joke. But this brings up an important consideration. You don't understand the outside world at all, do you? You are afraid of it."
 
Her mind, at the moment at least, was far from the worries over her virginity and a place in his bed. The distract of such sudden freedom being thrown upon her was more then enough to get her mind away from that direction. She shook her head at first in denial of the assumption that she was afraid before pausing and sighing, "Well, perhaps I am afraid. I know nothing at all about the world besides what I have read in books. I don't know how to act out there, talk out there, what is dangerous or not. I know what my place is inside a harem. I don't know what my place is outside walls that are meant to keep me hidden and safe."
 
Darius smiled broadly. This was the perfect opportunity to fulfill his desire to see this woman free of mind and spirit and to get her to open up to him. Try as he might he could not purge the realization, the selfish side of him that viewed his every action in such a context. Either way this was the kind of opportunity he had envisioned when he had first laid eyes upon her and now all he had to do was seize the moment. He presented to her his open hand with a warm expression.

"Do not worry, my dear. Let us go out into the world and discover these things which you have missed in your life, these fears which you could not confront."

He bowed before her and looked into her eyes.

"It was a tragedy that you ended up in chains, but it is even more a shame that you were raised in deprivation of what any properly reared girl needs... the attention of the world around her." Darius winked. "I will keep you safe, and you can see what that feels like. What do you say?"
 
Glancing up in his direction as he gave her a light bow and held out his hand... she seemed frozen in her spot. No man or even a woman of equal level had bowed to her before. A simple gesture yet, something more in her eyes. Not even her father showed her such a sign of respect in her whole life. Her hand rose up, hesitating in mid air about his own hand, as it it thought if it would take or deny his hand as it was offered to her.

Eventually, she did take his hand, using it to help her rise up to her feet, standing before him. Hands held. They were very close together now. Closest they had been yet. "I don't see it as I was deprived of anything. My father did it to keep me safe from the world. Myself and me mother. He didn't want to world to hurt us." And yet he did this to her now. She suddenly realized perhaps he had hurt her more then help for now that she was out in the world, she was completely ill prepared for it.
 
Darius released her hand, not wishing to impose himself upon her in that fashion and began to guide her toward the manor's gates, but she hurriedly caught up to his position and delved her hand around his arm in what he guessed was a sign of a lifetime of dependency and the fear of being cut off. "Let us talk on that," he said, walking with her slowly as he subtly motioned for Abdul, his manservant, to abandon his post at the gate and follow them. The busy market could be seen in the immediate path ahead and Darius figured that it would be best to query her in this manner while they were still at least partly alone. "Tell me. How is it you were sold into the market?" He found his eyes wandering over her form again, then glanced away. "Someone... like you was obviously raised with an emphasis towards beauty, if I may be so bold." He looked to her reassuringly, wary of stepping upon wounds that had not quite healed. "You have spoken of your father. Were you born into slavery?"
 
Her eyes looked out ahead of her, seeing the market. Earlier, she had only gotten a little glance at it and not really taken the time to take it in, thinking it was only a passing moment before she would be behind the locked doors of a harem once again. Now, she saw it as something completely different. Her eyes were kept forward as they walked and as she answered his question. "Yes. My mother was a slave from some far off place she never spoke of to me. He bought her just as you bought me and took her into his harem. He already had a wife as well as a full harem, but he took a liking to her." She did not dare tell him of the love that was between them. That was their personal business, not his. "I was born into the harem where I stayed all my life along with the other bastard children of the harem women. We had our own little world. Over the years, one my by my brothers and sisters were taken care of. Ones my father cared for were taken into the household as servants. Ones he did not care for in the same way.... were sold..."

Had her father not really cared for her that it became her fate? He had only allowed a handful of his offspring out into the world of slavery but they were honestly ones that deserved it. Perhaps this was somehow what she had deserved all along. She just could not understand what it was she had done.
 
Darius felt the color drain from his face and his muscles stiffen up. "Wait a moment. Are you telling me that your own father sold even his bastard children into slavery?" He looked to her and saw the wordless confirmation in her eyes. "Shaitan. Servant of the imp of hell himself!" He truly could not believe such depravity was possible. Slavery in the Caliphate was certainly no practice of benevolence and goodwill, but there were certain traditions that were not violated.

As the unwritten laws had defined, slaves were to be taken from the civilian populations of conquered nations at least as an original source, if a man who had honorably defeated the warriors of the subject nation so decided. But in that event, he was expected to care for, and so long as they remained obedient and efficient in their duties, treat well his slaves, for they were bound to him as his property. It was rather like ownership of a horse, Darius thought, rolling his eyes as he did. It did no good and, some might say, was unnecessarily cruel to beat an exhausted steed. So it was with human beings, Allah's children, as Darius saw it.

The buying and trading of slaves was not an uncommon thing but it was frowned upon. Selling a slave told the world that they were so poor in performing their tasks that even their usual common possession of sub-human status was undeserved, and that they had no more use than any other bartered object. There were exceptions of course -- pleasure slaves, who had immense potential value varying on their physical attractiveness and whether or not they had been deflowered -- but that was generally how it all worked.

One thing that was set in stone was that taking otherwise-free slaves for sale from the common population was absolutely unacceptable. That bordered on taboo alone. Yet to do so with one's own children, regardless if their mother had been a slave? It was unheard of. It made him angry, like throwing naphtha on a raging fire. He turned to Arya with an expression of sympathy.

"I am so very sorry to hear of your plight."
 
Somehow his overwelming reaction to the story of how she had come to be sold into his care made her feel even worse about herself. Was what her father did that terrible? Even more terrible then she felt about it before? Now the color was draining from her face and she did the only thing she could think of at that moment. She defended her own mistreatment. "We were all born of slaves so therefore we all were born into slavery already. Father owned us all so it was his right to do with us as he wished."

Or at least that was what she thought. She was starting to realize her view of the way things were meant to be was terribly clouded by having been so closed off from everything but what the others in the harem had told her about the world. Had any of them even been out in the world? What happened beyond her father's walls she did not know about?

There was uneasy feeling deep within her stomach as she glanced ahead at the market. What kind of world was she letting him lead her into?
 
"No! A thousand times no! Were my flesh and blood in slavery under any circumstances, I would cut off the head of every man between me and them without second thought. To image the idea of a man condemning his children, that he sired, it does not matter with whom, to such a fate sickens me." Darius vigorously shook his head, prompting Abdul to approach and examine the both of them to see if something untoward had occurred. Darius waved him off and continued.

"You have been victimized by a very evil, evil man Arya, and you should begin your new life in this world with that knowledge first and foremost. Everything he ever taught you about the world was a lie. A lie that he clearly dispensed with at the first opportunity -- probably once his latest cow, I use the term subjectively, was ready for market -- when he got a good price to do so. Your father is nothing to you, because he made the decision to put you on that auction block, and enslave you forever to misery and rape to Allah only knows who. But evil cannot triumph over good unless good is prepared to do nothing."

"And I will not do nothing. I urge you to use what you have been given here to make a difference in whatever way you can. If we are idle, all that will mean is that future girls just like you will be condemned to the fate which unfortunately does not smile on them as it has you. If you don't know your purpose I know that will come to you soon. I will be here to help."
 
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