“Is it one of your mother's generals?” Immestra asks hopefully.
Shaking your head, “It’s the bastard who betrayed me.” You finish angrily.
Petroculus Har’Amaden, many times over the past year you have dreamed of him staked out on a hill, as vultures slowly eat his living flesh starting at his cock. You remember the last day you saw that hated face.
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Its was getting close to mid-day, when you came over the hill and saw Athenaopolis spread out before you in the valley. Your caravan had followed the wide river throught the pastoral vally before entering the city. Looking through the bars you were surprised that for a city renowned for its amoral decadence that it didn’t look unlike your own beloved Heliopolis. The streets were wide and tall buildings lined the main boulevard that led towards the majestic city center. Eventually, you came to the market area, and your caravan entered into a enclosed courtyard for one of the many slaver bands that called the city home.
Petroculus and the Caravan Master, handed their mounts off to a stable boy and greeted a gray-haired man who had a patch over and eye with a several scars in that side of his face. After several minutes the three of them walked up to your wagon.
The grey haired man stared at you a moment looking for any flaw that might mar you body “So this is the priestess Amara,” he mused.
Petroculus preened “Stolen right out from under her bitch of a mother's nose.” He bragged.
The old man rolled his eyes, “Well she's valuable all right. We'll see in the end if her price was worth the trouble she’s sure to bring.”
“You're jumping at shadows old man. Her mother's a weak woman from a weak city, nothing will come of this other than the wailing of old women.” Petroculus assured him.
The slave master looked at the sun's position, “Well, too late for today and tomorrow the markets closed so they’ll go in the block two days from now.” He said thinking out loud.
Looking back at Petroculus and the caravan master, “Do I have to test them all again, or just her” the salve master punctuated, nodding at you.
“We haven’t fucked her holiness if that’s what you mean.” said Petroculus. "As tempting as she is, I was content to bang the others."
“Well, I'll just let Meedeia confirm that.” The Slave master counters.
A short time later the door to your wagon was opened and you and your companions were led into the cool dim building. The silent guards, led you over to a table that was next to a hearth that had a kettle sitting on it.
“What are you doing.” You cry out, as the men strapped you down onto the table.
“They’re making it so you can be inspected and prepared for you new life.” Said a strange woman who came over to your tables as the guards finish tightening the straps.
“Who are you?” You ask
“Me. I am Meedeia, The Master has tasked me with confirming you virginity and preparing you for sale.” The woman answered.
Meedeia was a thin and willowy, her dark brown hair was only at shoulder length and her long fingered hands were callused. She checked the straps, adjusted a couple, making sure you couldn’t move.
“What's the kettle for?” You ask worriedly.
“We’ll get to that in a moment but first we must check you.” Meedeia said eagerly.
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“Amara!” Immestra, says nudging you.
Back into the here and now, you glance at the amphora, and then shake your head firmly.
“With Petroculus here we don’t have time, we need to get to the secret door now.”
Pushing Clymene in front of you the three of you head through the door to the pleasure garden.
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