The Bartered Bride by Mary Jo Putney Page B

reminded them again, trying to keep her voice steady. There was no point in describing how Bhudy had abused her; after all, he'd been her owner and could do with her as he willed.
    Invoking the sultan saved her from being skewered. Wira detailed one man to help Bhudy and took the others with him through the palace to Gavin's rooms. Alex walked meekly with eyes downcast, shaken by the encounter and the possible consequences. Ironically, her best defense was the fact that now she was considered the sultan's property, and it was impertinent to molest anything belonging to the ruler.
    Being locked in the cage again was a relief. Once she was alone she crumpled to the floor and wrapped her arms around her knees to control her trembling. She wanted desperately to cry, but didn't dare. If she started weeping, she might never stop. The encounter with Bhudy had destroyed the fragile sense of safety that had been growing since she'd met Gavin.
    When a measure of composure had returned, she looked for her water pitcher. It sat on a table across the room, moved by a maid. Even if she were dying of thirst, she couldn't have reached it. Her lack of control over the most basic needs of life suddenly swamped her. My very chains and I grew ftiends ... Dear God, no, every day the chains chafed harder, body and soul. Her utter frustration exploded into rage and she began slashing her chains against the bars wildly, chipping gilt and causing a clamor that jangled from the walls. How could anyone endure slavery? What made men so vile that them believed they had the right to own another human life? Most bitter of all, how much longer could she survive without going mad?
    Drawn by the cacophony, a slave girl appeared in the doorway, her eyes wide with alarm. She was no more than eleven or twelve-not much older than Katie.
    Hating to see fear in the child's eyes, Alex stopped battering the bars and tried to compose her expression. "Please, water. Tolong air putih. "
    Glad for a request she could accommodate, the girl darted away. Alex sank to the floor again, praying that Gavin was right and that within a matter of days she would be freed. The closer freedom seemed, the harder slavery became.
    Despite her best attempts to control herself, by the time the slave girl brought water and rice Alex was weeping uncontrollably. But boredom eventually defeated anguish. Worn out by tears, Alex used precious water to pat her swollen eyes. Then she unpinned her hair, combed it loose, and settled down with Rob Roy. Returning to her native land was soothing even if only through a book. Reading also kept her from thinking too much about the progress of the trial.
    The sun was setting when the door swung open and Gavin staggered in, half supported by Suryo. His fair hair was tousled like a halo and his tunic gapped open to reveal his chest. Alarmed, Alex rose. "What happened?"
    "Haven't been ... this drunk since I was fifteen," Gavin said in a slurred voice. "Shipmates took me to a tavern for my birthday. Amazing number of beers in Antwerp."
    He zigzagged to the cage, catching a bar to keep himself from falling. Upright but swaying, he said with drunken precision, "Don't worry, I won't be sick. Already have been. Several times." He leaned against the bars, eyes drifting shut.
    Tight with anxiety, Alex asked, "How did the competition turn out? " Suryo answered when Gavin didn't. "The captain won, though it was close. They both have heads of solid stone."
    "If Kasan had lasted one more round, he'd've won." Gavin slid slowly to the floor. Suryo tried to lift him. "Captain, your bed will be more comfortable."
    Nothing. Gavin was dead to the world. "Bring a coverlet and pillow," Alex suggested. "Sleeping here won't make him feel any worse tomorrow than he will anyhow."
    Suryo smiled. "Very true, puan."
    Together they laid Gavin alongside the cage so Alex could tend him if necessary. "Find yourself some dinner," she told Suryo. "You've had a long day, too."
    "Do you need