Shiri by D.S.

“Away with you, I’ll not be taking four debens for this one. I’ve a mind to hold on to her and play with her for a night or two. She needs to learn her manners.”
    “Alright then ten debens , and that’s pushing it. I’ve seen a score better than her already.”
    “Hah! Save your breath, I’ll not part with this pretty little thing for less than twenty. And I’ll be the one to have her maidenhead at that.”
    “Twenty! And you the one to break her in?” Bomani laughed. “Bah! Do you jest? No man would pay fifteen for her let alone twenty!”
    “I would.”
    They turned in unison to see who was interrupting their business. A pair of strikingly blue eyes met their gaze. Much of the man’s face was swollen and battered ... there was a lot of that going round. He wore strange multi-coloured robes and held a leather money pouch of impressive size in hand. A moment he glanced at the slave before shrugging with obvious indifference. “Is lying face down in the mud whimpering like a whipped cur the limit of her talents?”
    Narmer shrugged. “Aye, well, I won’t lie, she’s not the brightest. A lackwit I reckon, slow to learn her new place in things. But what matter? Her mouth can be put to better use than debating philosophy.”
    The stranger laughed well at that, but there was an odd look in his eyes. They found their way back to Narmer and did not stray again. Shiri looked up, red eyes searching to see who it was that deemed her worth twenty pieces of copper. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t quite place it. All these soldiers looked the same to her anyway. This one was of the same foul breed as the others, laughing at cruel jests and buying and selling folk at his whim.
    “Hold up a minute I was here first,” Bomani stepped between the two men in fear of being forgotten. “Alright I’ll give you twenty. And I’ll have her now.”
    Narmer considered him for a m oment and slowly shook his head. “Nay, I’m afraid I find myself growing attached to her and...” he nodded at the new arrival, “the demand seems to be rising. On second thoughts I won’t be letting her go for less than twenty five.”
    Bomani loosed a series of oaths. “Why you dirty scoundrel! I’ve never seen the like! A man says he’ll take such a price and when it’s offered he refuses! By the gods what type of villains am I dealing with at all?” He exhaled first in anger, then in resignation. “Alright then, twenty five, but I’ll remember this, be sure of that.”
    “Fifty”
    Bomani swung round. Cold blue eyes looked past him dismissively; they seemed to know the soldier could not better the offer. “What!? Fifty?? Man are you mad? She’s just a scrawny Habiru slut! A lackwit! Narmer himself admits as much!”
    The stranger didn’t deem the man worthy of a response; his eyes were once again fixed on Narmer. Bomani clenched his fists, staring from Narmer, to slave, to stranger. If he didn’t know better he’d swear Narmer and the stranger were in cahoots. Fifty debens. It was ridiculous. He’d have five for that price. He cursed, “Ah to Apeth with it, to Apeth with you both,” he flapped his hands despondently and pounded off looking for better value stock.
    “It’s Narm er isn’t it?” the stranger said. “Hero of Megiddo, slayer of the Shepherd King?”
    Narmer raised an eyebrow . “Aye, who wants to know? Besides, ‘twas Prince Amenhotep that slew the King, they went sword to sword in the square.”
    “Aye, that’s what the reports say true enough, but the gossips tell it different. I’ve a mind to take me a ghaffir . I’ll be wanting the best and I pay well, as you can see.”
    Narmer’s eyes narrowed. “Mayhap you do,” he said. “But Amenhotep pays better. Take the slut and be on your way.”
    The stranger stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment. It was almost as if he was commending his features to memory. In that look Narmer imagined he saw hate, hate and