Thread: The Legend of the Gamble (Safehold and butterfly0408)

The slave seller was a practiced master of his art and as his booming voice echoed over the crowd, seemingly disregarding all of the background noise the surrounding streets provided with contemptuous ease, every man in the immediate area turned his attention to its source. In so doing the auctioneer had accomplished his hardest, most primary aim -- to attract the attention of the crowd to himself and to hold it. As his assistants, themselves slaves who had been conditioned to be absolutely desensitized to the plight of the products that the slaver was making available, made that task easier by ripping away the poor child's clothing, he proceeded with the bidding. Though before beginning the ritual of sale he managed to steal a glance at the woman's quality. Yes this one would fetch an incredible price... By the grace of Allah, blessed by his name, and the prophet Muhammad who is, was, and shall ever be his messenger, and the ascent of great Caliph Ar-Radi, the champion of the Prophet and Defender of the Faith, I bring to you today this fine open sale and auction for the finest pleasure slaves! The auctioneer started over the growing mass of men, most of whom almost certainly were nowhere near wealthy enough to even make the minimum bid. They've just come for the show. He smirked. First on the block, a fine damsel of descent from a barbarian chieftain lineage in Al-Andalus! Look upon her golden hair, incredibly rare blue eyes, and her sun-bronzed skin! And, as a special offer, on the honor of my house and before Allah himself, I can personally certify the maintenance of her virginity! Yes, my friends, this one is one hundred percent pure! Let us begin the bidding at 100 Dina... 10,000 Dinars! A massive Oooooooooo.... of surprise echoed over the crowd. The auctioneer blinked. 10,000 Dinars!?! That sum was enough to build and maintain an army in the field for some years! Who but the Caliph could afford such a price for one girl? Who in his right mind would...? And then the slaver saw who. Darius . The richest man in the Caliphate. Perhaps also the most famous. The auctioneer's keen political sense, developed over decades of monitoring the market and all the politics associated with it, was hardly necessary to know that. Darius, the Persian master at arms who had ascended from slave to tycoon in less than ten years. Who had won the confidence of the Army in battle, and then its command, and then the person respect... and if the man had any sense, fear, of Caliph Ar-Radi. He owned the largest and most lavish house in Baghdad, and that included the Caliph's private residence. If the Caliphate could be said to orbit around one man, this was it. And now that one man stood before him, garbed only in a simple Wool tunic that bore his family's crest on the lapel. He was covered only a hood, bucking the current fashion for turbans, and was accompanied only by one servant. A servant with a considerably sized book. The tycoon's personal Ledger, the auctioneer assumed. Every merchant worth the sand from which Allah made him wanted their name in that book -- for if God had smiled on Darius, the Shaytan could only be responsible for the obscene profit which flowed to every man whose names was inscribed. And now he, a simple slaver, had both encountered the most pristine product of his career and doubled... at least, perhaps tripled... his annual income. In a deal with a man who was known to frown on the practice of slavery and made a point about never engaging in the business. Odd, that. The auctioneer stepped forward, as his assistants prodded the most valuable slave ever to be sold in Baghdad along behind him.