Enslaved
Chapter One: Sold Cheap
By: Queen Beryl

"The man who gives me employment, which I must have or suffer, that man is my master, let me call him what I will." -Henry George

“Can you read?” The young man demanded, peering down at the timid girl who was kneeling on the floor. She kept her eyes to the ground in front of her and her head bent; she shook her head so her curtain of long black hair slid back and forth ever-so-slightly.

“She doesn’t speak much either, Sir.” The slave master informed the potential buyer. Wealthy individuals these days only wanted the working slaves; no talking required.

“Mute?”

“No, just stubborn, I reckon, Sir.” The man bobbed his grubby head up and down, his beady black eyes sending a glare to the girl. She was covered in dirt like the rest of the slaves, but there was something evidently individual about her. The slave master couldn’t tell precisely what it was, but it infuriated him to no extent.

“Hmm. Very well. How much do you want for her?”

“I’d say around, oh, thirty-seven.” The man’s eyes lit up with the prospect of gold entering his change purse. Well, it was only three pieces of gold and seven silver, but it was definitely worth getting this aggravating girl off his hands.

“So low?” The young man stopped in the act of retrieving the money from his purse. “What’s wrong with her? Defective?”

“No, Sir. She’s just a special breed, that one.”

“Elven? Dwarf? What?” The young buyer’s cold blue eyes were skeptical.

“Rumor has it… she’s a hybrid.”

“I thought those were rare and deserved a higher cost?”

“Normally, yes, Sir, but normally they aren’t really sold for slaves, are they?” The portly slave master nodded his head again as he bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet.

“Well why so low then?”

“You want me to up the price?”

“I was prepared to haggle. No price increase necessary. I’ll relieve you of this… creature.” The man gave the slave master four gold pieces, thanked him for his trouble, and led the way back to his carriage where it waited.

“Here you go, Sir. Thank you again for shopping here. Your next slave will have a discount. Ask for Jim.” The man bowed profusely and backed up. The younger man entered the carriage without a word, and the vehicle took off toward his estate. The “cargo” was sitting as small as possible in the corner of the seat. She’d never felt so retched in her entire life.

“You have a name, hybrid?” The young man asked, studying her carefully. Her ears, which seemed human-like enough, perked up angrily at the last word, but the girl said nothing.

“What are your races?” The man tried again, but still, to no avail. “Fine, I’ll just have you whipped when we get home. That’ll make you talk.”

“Adella Janan.” The girl’s small voice stated almost instantly.

“There, that’s better.” He inclined his head slightly. “And your races?”

“Unknown.”

“You do not know your own race? Is that even possible?”

“Obviously.”

“Don’t get an attitude with me, hybrid. I can have you beat.”

“Forgive me, my master.” She still kept her gaze down in front of her, and her hair was shading her eyes. For some reason, this started to annoy the young man.

“Do you ever look up from your hands?”

“And risk punishment by looking above my station, Sir? Never.”

“How many owners have you had?”

“You are my first, but I was taught well, Master.”

“Don’t call me that. It irritates the life out of me. I am Alexander Bowden.”

“Master Bowden?”

“No. Mr. Bowden is fine. I’m just below a lord as of now… when I rise in station you may refer to me as Lord Bowden, but not before, is that quite clear?”

“Yes, Mr. Bowden.”

“Hmm, very well.” Alexander looked at her for a while, trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. All the other slaves he had, male and female, were practically clear; he could see right through their façades and lies, but this one was different. Somehow, that registered as dangerous.

“What chores can you perform?”

“Anything.”

“Good. I have a lot of house that needs servicing.” And with that both parties fell relatively silent the rest of the duration of the journey to Bowden Manor. The only real sound was the horses’ hooves on the gravel and the wheels of the carriage turning and crunching.

“Mr. Bowden, Sir, I’m terribly sorry, but Mr. Jameson arrived just a moment ago and he demands to see you. He’s waiting in your library.” A thin-faced, short, older woman approached them as they started toward the large steps to the front door of the manor.

“Very well, Katie. Take the new one and show her where she’ll sleep and then get her right to work. I’m not to be disturbed until Mr. Jameson leaves.”

“Understood.” Katie curtsied slightly as Alexander rushed past. “So, he bought you then. What’s your name, child?”

“Adella, Ma’am.” Adella kept her head facing the stone steps.

“Come now, child, no need for such formalities with me while we’re not in Mr. Bowden’s company. Call me Katie. I’m the headmistress over the slaves here. No need to look at the ground, either. Unless you’re talking to Mr. Bowden, you’re free to look around. Although I do believe it irritates him that people don’t look at him when they speak.”

Katie guided Adella into the house and to the immediate left toward a flight of stairs that led down into the slaves’ quarters. To the left were the main kitchen area, and a door to the right opened into a long hallway that branched off into respective rooms for the slaves. Adella was given a quick glimpse of her room, the fifth door on the left, and ushered back into the kitchen.

“What kind of things can you do, Adella?”

“Anything.”

“That’s brilliant. Go ahead and start on the dishes. When you’re done you can sweep the kitchen floor, and dust the downstairs and the upstairs thoroughly. Can you handle all that?”

“Yes.” Adella nodded and went right to work. The few dishes left in the sink and the kitchen floor was done in a matter of fifteen minutes, not for lack of good work, but because Adella was quick. She was taught to work quickly and quietly when she was growing up, and this was one of the times where such skills paid off. Adella searched under the sink for a couple rags and brought them with her up the stairs to the main entrance area she’d seen momentarily.

She started by the front door, which wasn’t too difficult, as there was just a large cherry wood table in the center of the spacious room. Adella spotted a line of candle sconces mounted on the wall and decided those needed to be dusted as well; especially since a couple had cobwebs, as though the house had been vacant recently.

“I told you before, Alex, if you don’t find one fast, I’ll have to take action.” Another man’s voice threatened from just beyond the door that Adella was dusting next to. Her rapid cleaning slowed as she listened further.

“I don’t know, Clarence. I haven’t been able to find one anywhere! I’m still looking, so don’t get your bowler in a twist.” Alexander Bowden’s voice was angry and taunting at the same time. There was a moment of silence before the door was ripped open and a tall, elegantly dressed man ran smack into Adella, knocking her to the floor.

“Watch it, slave.” The man narrowed his eyes at the crumpled heap on the floor before continuing his hasty exit. He turned at the front door, his hand on the handle. “Hurry, Alex.” And he left, the slamming of the door echoing off the walls and vaulted ceiling.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Alex demanded, glaring at Adella, who had not moved from where she fell.

“Yes and no,” came the soft reply. Alex was taken by surprise. He expected a completely lying “no.”

“Explain yourself.” Alex said, due to lack of anything better to come back with.

“I was cleaning, like I was told, when I heard raised voices. I didn’t hear much.” Adella stood up, wringing her hands around the cleaning rag and gazed at Alex’s shoes. Alex almost laughed; an honest slave? Did such luxuries exist?

“Very well. I won’t punish you this time. What all did you hear?”

“Just that you needed to hurry and find one. Of what, I know not.” Adella resumed her cleaning, as though Alex had left already. Alex scowled at her antics.

“Hmm. Fine.” He left hurriedly up the blue marble stairs.

“That was bold.” Katie’s voice stated from just behind Adella. Adella almost jumped in surprise, but kept her composure as best she could.

“That was honesty.” Adella clarified. “I saw no point to lie.”

“That was wise, then. He can see through such deceit.” Katie praised. “You’re already done with the kitchen, then?”

“Yes, and I was just heading upstairs. Do you approve?”

“Absolutely. I’ll be working in the garden, fetch me when you’ve completed your task.”

“Yes.” Adella trekked upstairs and proceeded to dust the rooms, one at a time. Her seventh room, at the end of a hallway, just happened to be occupied.

“Katie, is that you?” Alex called from a curtained bed.

“It’s Adella, Mr. Bowden.” She clarified, prepared to leave again. “Forgive me for disturbing your solitude.”

“Wait, come here. You might be able to help me.” Alex’s voice sounded oddly strained, as though he was fighting nausea.

“Yes, Sir?”

“Go into the cupboard over there and get a vile that reads Essence of Alabaster.” He commanded, waving a hand at the oak cabinet. Adella found the desired liquid and brought it to him.

“Here.”

“Put seven drops in that tea cup and stir it in.” Alex was lying on his back, gripping the bedcovers with gusto, and breathing through clenched teeth. His eyes followed Adella, as though he might attack at any moment; chills rapidly descended down her spine. She quickly mixed and stirred, as told, and held the cup out to him.

“Here it is.”

“Help me up.” Alex strained into a sitting position with Adella’s assistance and made her hold the cup to his lips, as his hands were occupied with strangling the bedcover.

“There, lie back down now, Sir. You look like you need rest.” Adella advised, setting down the tea cup and making to leave. Alex suddenly reached out and caught Adella’s wrist; Adella jumped at the contact but turned around to face him.

“Let me explain.”

“There is nothing to explain, Sir.”

“Yes there is.”

“No, Sir.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Don’t argue with me!” Alexander bellowed, and Adella snapped her mouth shut. “If I don’t take Essence of Alabaster at least once a week I get… hostile. I’d forgotten all about it with the excitement of today. You see, I… am a-”

“Wizard.” Adella nodded.

“What?”

“I know that you’re a wizard. I’ve been around them before. Essence of Alabaster, Powdered Bilox, et cetera… I know about it.”

“Which suddenly brings me to another point: I thought you couldn’t read.” Alexander gazed at her coolly after a long period of silence. Adella froze, her eyes wide.

“I, uh-”

“Hmm. What other secrets do you have? Do you dabble in witchcraft?”

“No. I know how to read labels… not anything else.”

“You’re lying.”

“Prove it.” Adella challenged suddenly. She instantly regretted it, though, and clapped her hands over her mouth. It was forbidden to ever challenge a superior.

“With pleasure.” Alex sneered. He opened his mouth to say more, but Katie came in.

“Oh, Adella, I’m glad I found you. One of the other slaves had an accident in the fourth bedroom on the left; go help him.” Katie nodded as Adella exited the room. Katie turned to Alex, a slight frown on her face.

“What?”

“What did you tell her?” Katie placed her hand on her hips.

“What do you mean?” Alex rubbed a hand over his forehead.

“Did you blab about your heritage, Mr. Bowden?” Katie’s eyes glowed momentarily.

“She guessed on her own. I was breaking down, Katie, and I needed someone to get me the Essence of Alabaster and she was there.”

“What happens if she says something?”

“She won’t.” Alex assured her.

“What makes you so certain?”

“I just know, all right? Don’t question me anymore. I need rest.” Alex laid back down and closed his eyes resolutely. Katie glared at him but left, closing the door behind her. She walked down the hall, trying to maintain calm. Danger was in the air… she could feel it.

“What seems to be the problem?” Adella asked as she entered the specified room. A short man was crying on the floor, surrounded by a string of papers. He didn’t even look up as she came in. He just wailed. Adella closed the door behind her and peered down at the blubbering individual. He was on his knees, his nose touching the floor, weeping as though he’d just lost his entire family. Other than his short structure, his only distinguishable physical feature was his wild bright red hair. He was wearing a long forest green tunic, black trousers, and black, gold-buckled brogues.

“It’s gone! All gone! It’s gone. Gone, gone, gone!” The man wailed, finally lifting his head from the floor and turning around to face Adella. He looked to be about his mid-thirties, mainly due to his short red beard. His radiant green eyes were swimming with liquid and emotions. He threw his hands up into the air and crawled on his knees toward her. Adella just stood there calmly, as though these circumstances occurred every day.

“What’s gone?” Adella asked, her voice smooth and reassuring.

“Me money! Me money!” The short man cried, dropping down to all fours and hiccupping.

“Your pot of gold, leprechaun?”

“O’ course! What else would it be, now?” He shook his head sadly, his cheeks stained with tears.

“What happened to it?”

“It… disappeared!” Came the dramatic answer. Adella fought the urge to roll her eyes.

“Something like that just doesn’t disappear. Was it stolen? Misplaced-?”

“I would never misplace me money, wench!”

“Don’t be disrespectful; I’m trying to help you. So it was stolen, you think?”

“Aye.”

“Who?” Adella asked, feeling quite exasperated.

“I… don’t know.”

“So you were just going to cry about it the whole time, were you?”

“I-no. I was in mournin’.”

“Over gold.” Adella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You got a name, leprechaun?”

“Awdin.”

“No last name?”

“None required for the likes of you.” The little man arose and glared up at her.

“Very well. In that case, I won’t give you back your gold.”

“You stole it?!”

“I didn’t steal it. I moved it. I’m not telling you where.”

“You can’t do that!” Awdin cried, running up to Adella and gripping the bottom of her shirt in distress. “It’s me gold!”

“Well, so far you’ve disrespected me twice and refused my assistance. I don’t feel that I owe you anything.”

“Sorry. I truly am.” Awdin released his hold on the fabric and stepped back a few paces. “Please may I have me gold back?”

“It’s in the top drawer on the right-hand side.” Adella nodded to the cherry wood dresser across from the bed, next to the leprechaun. He hoisted himself up on a small chair and dug through the drawer, pulling out a small forest green pot filled to the brim with gold coins.

“I’m much obliged!” He immediately sat down and started counting the coins. Adella exited, shaking her head. She’d met some odd characters in her life, but he was definitely one to remember. She went into the next room and resumed her cleaning.