The Songs of Loss, book one : Armanth

Chapter 13- Separation

"You said WHAT?"

Priscius's outraged cry echoed throughout the villa and froze all the slaves present all the way to the bathhouse. To tell the truth, even his henchmen within earshot of the roar paused in alarm to hear their boss.

Jawaad, sipping the tea offered by the slaver, hadn't blinked; he'd been expecting it. In fact, he had placed his free hand on Lisa's head at her feet, holding her firmly, his fingers sliding down her forehead to her eyes, in anticipation of his opposite number's outburst; and he had done well. When Priscius burst out, she too almost cried out in fear, abruptly taking refuge in Jawaad's legs, out of a viscerally anchored instinct the scope of which she couldn't even have grasped herself. But it was against him that she had just hidden, trembling like a leaf, her face half-buried in her long kilt.

Jawaad noticed with interest that Sonia hadn't left anything out. The little redheaded barbarian wasn't aware of it, but she was already imbued with his presence. The master merchant repeated calmly.

"I'll take her for nothing; I'll take her off your hands."

Priscius exploded a second time, his bearded face turning scarlet.

"But have you lost your mind? Who do you think I am, by the ancient gods? Do you have any idea what she's cost me so far? By Wotan, I don't know what's keeping me from kicking your ass out of my house!"

Jawaad raised an eyebrow at the slaver and his threat, without seeming to take any real offense. He slid his hand down the side of Lisa's face to rest his head against her leg. She was on her knees and still trembling, allowing herself to be taken in without resisting for a moment. The master-merchant looked at Priscius, as impassive as ever, but left it to the slave-owner to see for himself the hold he already had on the young slave.

"She's unsaleable, and you know it; besides, you owe me. I brought your educator back to you when the law gave me every right to keep her, since she broke into my home."

Priscius had to restrain a violent urge to punch the master merchant immediately, but Abba, standing behind Jawaad, glared at him at the same instant, urging him to contain himself. Leaning against the wall of his office, arms folded, the colossus armed with his huge scimitar watched over his boss without hiding his disdain for the Nordic man with whom Jawaad was doing business. It was rumored that this black slaver could break a horse's skull with his fist; his enormous biceps made this rumor entirely credible, and Priscius had no desire to verify it. But he barked again, his tone snarling:

"Don't talk to me about that ungrateful bitch! She's not about to get out of the cage I threw her into!"

"However, your business is largely based on the educational talents you exploit in her, and her escapade was useful to me, as I told you. It was for her usefulness and value that I decided to bring her back to you. But... I could just as easily take her back, you know? Enough witnesses have seen me holding her on a leash all morning for me to assert my right."

Priscius glared at Jawaad, eliciting only his customary indifference in response. He angrily plunged his hand into the bowl of pistachios on his desk, more to find something to squeeze and crush than out of hunger. He tore out his words, his tone scolding.

"I'm forced to thank your generosity, master merchant, but she won't escape the punishment I reserve for runaway slaves, believe me!"

"That's your business; all I'm interested in is getting rid of the young redhead. You owe me and you can't do anything with her; whatever happens, you'll be out of pocket."

"And how can you claim that, tell me, eh?"

Jawaad stretched out a smile and his hand, continuing its caressing slide over Lisa's face, whose eyes he was hiding, came to flatter her lips with his middle finger before gently forcing its way into her mouth. To her own surprise, Lisa didn't try for a second to escape the gesture and let herself be taken without resistance, grabing the finger of the man at whose feet she had taken refuge. She didn't know who he was, she just knew that she knew his smell, and that it intoxicated her to the point of haunting her and making her lose all fear, whereas she knew full well that the smell of men panicked her; besides, Priscius' smell, close by, set her nerves on edge. Understanding all too well the discussion taking place in Priscius's office, of which she was the object, the only thing that managed to hold back her panic was to rely completely on this bewitchment whose origin she couldn't really realize, even if she suspected it had something to do with what Sonia had done. Sonia had never mentioned the Languori or the Languiren to her protégée. Without having a clear explanation or fully realizing that, in fact, she simply couldn't have resisted it, she surrendered herself to this fragile but sweet plenitude, so as not to give in to the fear that had been gnawing at her ever since she'd been kneeling next to the master merchant, between these men who frightened her.