I fell asleep shortly after I lay down, content to let my captors chat around the fire as they had last night. It seemed that it was a customary thing to do. I imagined it was just like people would have done on Earth back in the days before the world got all civilized. People still did it today, I was sure, just with the added sublime glow of screens.

  I occasionally woke as voices I didn’t recognize joined in on the conversation. It seemed that this was also customary in this place. I think my being hidden in the corner alleviated some of their earlier ire. I caught some snippets of conversation as I faded in and out of slumber. One snippet, though, brought me to full awake.

  “……twenty is as high as I will go for him.”

  “Twenty? That’s laughable. He possesses skills and some courtly manners. He is worth ten times that amount.” Gorn was coming to the mutual defense of me and his wallet. Probably more the latter.

  “Look at him, he is old and weak. I have seen none of these so-called ‘skills’”

  “I’m afraid we will not do less than one hundred.” Shy this time.

  “Thirty-five and you throw in the collar.”

  “That’s less than your last offer; the collar is twenty by itself.”

  “To a slave catcher, maybe.”

  “One ten if you want the collar and control, then.”

  “Bah, you are a daft kinney.” I assumed ‘kinney’ was an insult only due to the slight symphony of growls coming from the fire ring. The scuffling of feet signaled that the prospective buyer realized he had stepped over a line.

  “Petior…please calm yourself, we have all been called worse.”

  “Such disrespect. Much insult. Why not kill?” Rogan’s clipped voice asked my question exactly.

  “Because it would just create an incident and I, nor we, have the death price for any of these people. Unfortunately, due to my reputation, I doubt the four ascended here would vouch for me against the merchants that probably funded their ascension. There is a level of politics at this level that you will need to learn how to navigate once you complete your training. Do not be worried about your reputation, though. I will be remembered here; you likely will not if you do not make a spotlight. It is also unlikely that the human will harm my reputation much. Especially with the skills he has been hiding from us. I heard him talk to you earlier, Gorn. That is a speech from one who has at least spent time around nobility. That ‘courtly manner’ increases his value by no small amount.”

  She was ever the pragmatist. Her talks about politics and courtly manners intrigued me to the greater state of this world. I had not seen much of the world, but the picture I had was that of a medieval society. I drifted back off, wondering if I was on target or would yet be surprised.

  “Pssst…….Lady Apastae……. Lady Apastae”

  “I cannot answer to that name”

  I wondered what Shy’rone was doing awake and by the fire? Did we set a watch?

  “Apologies, my Lady.”

  “Nor am I granted my titles. If you know my name, then you should know that.”

  “Apologies….miss…..mistress Shy’rone.”

  “Granted. Now, how may we help you, mister…?”

  “I’d rather not say my la….Ma’am, I have to travel with these folks for some time. I heard about the insulting offer for your human and I came with…”

  “I mean no offense to you, Mister Shadow, but you do not look like a finekin of the means to make a better offer.”

  “No..no..not at all, ma’am, I wouldn’t dare offer. We would both be left for the buzzardkin before the next milepost. That’s why I had to wait until your watch. My offer is for information.”

  “Information? What would be the cost of this information?”

  “A nothing…I would give it for free….well.”

  “Out with it, man.”

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Well, I know a certain person in your father's city and….”

  “You are looking to curry favor…..I see….what is this person’s name?”

  “I have it here.”

  “Hrmn…I see..smart of writing it down. In case of open ears. I tell you what, you tell me this information, and depending on its value, that’s what I will tell my sister.

  “Your sis…ster?”

  “She is far better at secrets and favors of this matter than my father. The whispers of satin and such.”

  “Yes….yes.. I understand.”

  “Well, get on with it.”

  “Of course, my…ahh….anyway, about your human, I wouldn’t take him to Har’at.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Two reasons. First, there are whispers of a new offensive across the buckle, and any stock would be bought at a conscript rate.”

  “ No wonder that fool was offering twenty. Quick, easy profit, but a hundred would be a significant loss.”

  “Exactly but thats not the real reason. Normally, the rates in Avonsil would be worse because they would ship them north, but I have it on a very solid rumor that the Emir is coming to Avonsil for a vacation.”

  “Which Emir?”

  “The Emir, the human-loving one!”

  “And he pays?”

  “If your human can speak as you advertise or has any other household skills, I’ve heard rumors that he pays well above guild rates for those specimens he finds interesting. I’m sure he would find your man interesting.”

  “This is valuable information indeed. If it’s true.”

  “I assure you, I have the greatest confidence in this information.”

  “If it turns out to be true, I will do as you ask. But if it is false. Your little request will never happen. And shadow, if this is a trap, I will find you, and I will not be kind. I’m sure my reputation guarantees that.”

  “It is the truth as best as I can know it, ma’am.”

  “Goodbye, Shadow.”

  Silence once again claimed our little slice of the waystation. Tomorrow morning would show if she trusted the information or not. I did my best not to move or readjust my position for at least a few more minutes so as not to cause any concern or evidence of my eavesdropping. Once I felt confident, it was a natural time to do so; I resumed a comfortable position and slept the rest of the night. An upside of being untrusted was that I never had to stand watch.

  The morning was a massive ball of controlled chaos as different groups either raced to be first out of the chute, often opting for a cold breakfast or to eat on the road, or resigned themselves to a later departure. Judging from their quick stowage of gear, my captors were accustomed to being on the move early. Today appeared to be an exception, though. Shy was slow to get her gear going, which caused no shortage of looks from her companions or other travelers.

  “Rogan, I would say we missed our chance to be out ahead of everyone, and not having a contract with any of the crews, all of whom seem to be eager to leave as quickly as they can, I say we are rather resigned to leaving near the tail. Let us have a fine breakfast then. Have the human help.” As if to emphasize her lack of urgency, she did something I had yet to see, she pulled out a book and started to read.

  I didn’t question her. I just got to my assigned task of helping Rogan cook a full breakfast. Apparently, there was a secret cabal of cooks at this waystation, and Rogan had traded some of his stash for new items. The best of these was a small pouch of fresh hot peppers and something that looked suspiciously like bacon. I went to work on these, also pilfering a bit of hard trail cheese that I did my best to soften. They weren’t perfect, but we had breakfast poppers!

  We took our time breaking camp, but we were still a good way ahead of the others. Eventually, it would look like we were stalling. We were stalling, for some reason, but I got the hint that Shy didn’t want it to be too obvious. We were forced to mount up and head out around mid-morning.

  The dust from the earlier groups was thick. It was an odd comfort not being able to see where you are going, meaning that you were on the right track. If the dust thinned too much, you were obviously heading off the road. It wasn't sandstorm levels of lack of visibility. You could just see the rider ahead of you and the somewhat outline of whoever was ahead of them, but that was it.

  “Slave! Bring me my book!”

  I was confused. Shy had never given me her book. How could I give it to her? I was pretty sure it was in her bag of holding.

  “Your book?”

  “Yes, the one I was reading this morning.”

  “You never gave me a book.”

  “Do not lie to me, Slave! I set it next to your things and told you not to forget it.”

  Her raised voice clued me in that this was not for me but an act for the crowd. I played along.

  “Mistress, there was no book. I assumed you or one of the gents grabbed it. I would not be worthy of such an object.”

  “Are you so incompetent that you cannot grab an object and place it in a bag?”

  “I would, my lady, if there was an object to grab.”

  “Rogan, Petior, Gorn, Leyla…did any of you grab my book? Or is the human just worthless?”

  “Not I.”

  “Why would I want a book?”

  “You trusted a book to it? I wouldn’t trust it not to trip over its own boots! I don’t see how Rogan can trust it with a knife.” Leyla was being kind.

  “I not give knife that can stab.”

  “Enough. This incompetence shall not stand.”

  “I will return to the camp, my lady. I will find your book.”

  “And what? What gives you an attempt to escape again? I think not! Monster Hunters, Break formation and turn around.”

  This was met with some level of groaning from the group. Leyla’s overzealousness clued me in that this was, indeed, a plan. Our attempts to get out of the line and go counter to traffic were met with all sorts of complaints and questions from those behind our motley band. Shy handled most of those complaints at my expense and promised to ride hard and meet at the next station

  “The human was stupid and left some of my things back at camp.” Was the kindest thing she said. Most received sympathetic responses and several creative punishments.

  All told, it took us three hours to get back to the waystation. As I turned into the camp, the group burst into laughter. I was pretty sure I saw a coin or two exchange hands.

  “Stupid human. Like I would trust you with anything, much less an expensive book, we just needed an excuse to head south. Come now, your new master awaits.”