Supply & Demand; Love; Compulsion

originally posted March 19, 2006

I have never paid so much coin for a girl. It brought to mind, maybe more than the ability to purchase that plot of land north of Venna proper, just how easily wealth is generated - with the right product.

For three copper tarsks per ahn, four for the blonde, men purchase what is mine. They needn't feed it, be tender with it, make promises or assurances to it or otherwise concern themselves with it past their own pleasure. Their asses slapped, sent on their way, my girls return to the street and endeavor another productive ahn.

In just over six hands, five women working all five days of the hand have grossed fourteen hundred and sixty one copper tarsks. It sounds hard to believe, but I've tallied it myself. Portia, the undisputed earner of my whores, in a 31 day period brought in over 400 of those copper tarsks. Astounding as it may sound, that is only some 13 copper per day on average, or just over four ahn of work per day. I assure you there are days she works far more than four productive ahn. All told, those fourteen hundred odd copper tarsk equate to over thirty five silver tarsks or better than three gold tarn disks. From city to city, I must exchange the heavy sacks of copper for higher denominations of coin. More phenomenal than the coin from the diligence of trained whores is the money Emily brings me in the sands. I started in Torcadino, demanding a silver eighty piece, the equivalent of eighty copper tarsks, every night she danced. By the time we reached Rarn, I demanded, and received, five silver eighty pieces for each night. In the Fortress of Saphronicus, the one night we stayed, I would accept no less than ten silver eighty pieces for an ahn of her time in the sand. Ten silver eighty pieces. The equivalent of two gold tarn disks. I cultivated her legend from days before we left Ar in the Braided Whip Tavern of the Teiban Sul District to the Inn of Sa Tassna in Torcadino and further down the road. Did men not remember the seductive Vine, she who danced in the chains of shrewd Celenius, Merchant of Cos? Look upon my Emily. Yes, you remember her. She is one in the same. When we reached the Riverside Inn at Jort's Ferry, men were waiting there to see Emily dance. In Rarn, too, at the Pilgrims Road Inn, they clamored for her. All told, after dancing at the Fortress of Saphronicus, where the Merchant Law of supply and demand is greatest, I had forty silver eighty pieces from the pouches of men salivating to see her dance. Forty silver eighty pieces. The equivalent of eighty silver tarsks or eight gold tarn disks. Adding the other coin, after expenses of the road, I possessed the equivalent of better than eleven gold tarn disks.

I knew, were it necessary, I would empty my pouch to remove Elise from the cage of the caravan Slaver. Most people know, even her former owner, that Szol of Ar was taken with Elise, the girl called Jelly. She does not captivate me as does Joy, of course. Joy made me a thief. Joy brought brother against brother. Coveting her, I risked much to have her. I paid much. Not a single copper bit, but, I think the love of my Brother. It was not a light thing, nor an easy price, but I know I would do it again. I have reconciled my feelings in the matter, accepted what I've done and not tried to deny it, but it is not something I choose to dismiss or forget out of hand. Joy was the siren that called me home. I have disdained to make her fully slave, to train her that she is for men, all men. She is not. Selfishly, I have kept her vulnerable and needy for me. I do not choose to share. I am magnanimous with much, but I do not share my Joy, nor my sandals. Both carried me far. Around the world and back to the gates of Samsara, my home, which resides in the District of the Theater of Pentillicus Tallux in Glorious Ar. I know it will be difficult for her to understand why I felt compelled to purchase Jelly. It did not stop me, of course, as she could not. I don't imagine it occured to her to try. Five gold tarn disks I paid for her. I have little doubt that when I return to Ar, Dukkarr will offer me twice that amount to have her back. I could even envision asking only what I paid for her and having him gesture magnanimously to his accountants to pay me fifteen. There would be a supper, a feast. He would be much pleased. Gifts would be exchanged. Musicians would play. It is a lie to say I purchased her for profit or even with a mind to return her, however likely that scenario is. I coveted her. I admit that. On the evening of the first day of the Waiting Hand, she was in the cage of a caravan Slaver, nude and miserable, disbelieving, pitiful and desperate. I would have emptied my wallet to obtain her not for altruism, but because I wanted her. I wanted to clothe her in pastel blue silk and march her beside the coffle but not on it. I wanted to sleep her in the tent of She and Samantha, assign her to share the burdens of She.

I wanted these things. I will do these things. I feel compelled.