The Needle In The Haystack

originally posted January 31, 2006

To satisfy my curiosity, I've spent the last few days looking for her. It is no simple feat to find a single slave girl in a city the size of Ar. There are districts within this city which rival the whole of other cities not only in size, but population as well. Still, few commodities, common as they are, illicit the interest of a slave girl. I knew her father's Caste. I knew his name. I knew, too, where the girl was purportedly taken. I've allowed myself to wonder what it might be like to have her in chains at the Boarding House. Just another common female earning coin at a rate of three copper per ahn. Would I be cruel enough to let the difficulties her alleged abduction and subsequent delivery into the collar of a bold and intrepid fellow (with remarkable chain luck) affect the way I treated her? It is delicious to think that I would, but I doubt that I would find satisfaction in that. It is true. Her father has been the source of difficulty with respect to producing 'Agamedes' in Ar. In my own city. His influence, due the color of his robes, at Council meetings is considerable.
...but I would not be cruel to her.
Better she should be trained exquisitely. Brought along slowly. Better she learn to please a man through menial chores such as laundry and cleaning. Let her learn such things as cooking and the ability to choose the proper wine for any occasion. Let her, now and again, whether she has 'earned' it or not, feel the lash. In a reasonable duration of time, she would be expected to conform to acceptable measurements for her height and body type. I wonder if she is a willowy girl with hollow features that needs increased sustenance and a regimen of exercise designed to add womanly curves. Maybe she is an indulgent sort that has allowed herself over the years to fill in the voluminous folds of the Robes of Concealment. In which case, her caloric intake would simply decrease as her program of exercise elevated continually until an optimal balance was struck. Perhaps she only lacks the healthy glow that frolicking barefoot below Tor-tu-Gor provides. In any case, no matter what needs to be done to improve her, to make her 'slave acceptable', there is no need to be cruel about it.
Still, the cart is before the bosk. I have not found her as yet, nor the bold fellow that made off with her in the commotion. Perhaps he will not be inclined to sell her. He must have known her. Who would risk the scandal oftaking a female of unknown features and mien in a public venue in the woman's own city? A Tarnsman from an enemy state looking for glory, the rite of passage into manhood? Perhaps, but I tend to think she was known to him. Perhaps she saw him in the markets as she shopped for baubles. Flirted with him. Frustrated him. A simple fellow of humble caste, he could not hope to sue for her favor. She would know this and enjoy the torment it caused him. Would she stare into her mirror at night with a mischievous smile, recalling the dejection in his eyes as she pulled the brush through her hair? He would not know. How many times would he have fondled the binding fiber, felt the coarse rope cut and bleed him as he pressed it angrily between his thumb and fingers? He could not, would not do this thing in the light of day, though he desperately wanted to. Could he have followed her into the Great Theater of Pentillicus Tallux, waited for the appropriate time? As men rushed the stage and women made hurriedly for the exit, might he not have been waiting for her? I think it is plausible. Given what is known, the last time she was seen, I think it is likely.
Were I such a fellow, with such a hard won prize, I would not sell her. Still, should I find this man and this girl, once of High Caste, I will make an offer.