((Here goes nuthin'.))

Claudia was walking down a quiet, stately hallway. Mahogany doors, reminscent of the ones in her previous home, lined the corridor, and her slippered feet made no sound upon the plush red carpet as she walked past them. Ahead, she saw a figure. It was her husband. Joy and longing burst into her heart.

"James! James!" she cried out, her walk turning into a run.

He turned at the sound of her voice. His face was covered in crimson dye. His bloodied hand reached out to her, its fingers decayed and rotting.

Claudia opened her mouth to scream, but a sudden jolt of the cage woke her from her dream.

She opened her eyes, then closed them quickly again when the bright sunshine blinded her. Weakly, she forced herself to turn over so that she crouched in a fetal position, her face turned away from the light. She blinked a few times and was able to regain her vision. Her unclothed knee scraped against the bottom of the sharp metal cage and she yelped a little in pain.

"Quiet, bitch," a gruff voice told her.

She peered angrily at him, but quieted. It would do no good in her condition to begin an argument with her guards. Instead, she glanced around her surroundings.

The cage in which she had inhabited for roughly a week had been placed on some kind of cart and was finally being taken elsewhere by the two men. She tried to discern where they were headed through the metal framework of her little home. The place held the cheery bustle of people as they hurried here and there in search of who knows what. She heard the call of merchants and smelled the scent of spices. Caravans traveled sturdily through the street despite the puddles from last night's rain.

It took no genius to figure out that she was about to be sold off in the auction block. She had probably been transported to the market place by a caravan and then taken the rest of the way by the two men. Sure enough, she saw the block ahead and several slaves beside herself.

Despite herself, the feeling of fear and injustice rose in her heart at the sight of all those slaves, chained and lined up in a single row, waiting to be bought. And she was one of them. Human cargo. Chattel. Without rights. She forced down the tears that threatened to surge. How did this happen to me? she wondered. How could it?

She remembered all too well. She had been a noblewoman, of rich and high status. She had lead a good life. But then fate struck. Her husband, James, whom she had barely been with a year, had caught a deadly disease. The doctors had been unable to find a cure, and he died within a month. Claudia had mourned his death and wondered how she would be able to run a large household of servants, manage the money, and make a living. A long-time friend of James, by the name of Peter, had offered to help. She could still hear his poisonous, honeyed voice in her ear.

"These are not a woman's jobs. It needs a man's doing," he had assured. "I'll help you. You can trust me."

And Claudia did trust him. She had turned all the power over to him. It had been such a foolish move. But she had still been dazed over Jame's death and had been willing to accept help - any help - from anyone. She had been so desperate.

She still wasn't sure what happened next and how he was able to do it. All she knew was that Peter had sold her into slavery, somehow managing to cover her disapearance, and that the house, all the money, and the servants, now belonged to him. The thought could still make her livid.

She was interrupted out of these ponderings when the men stop moving the cage, unlocked the door, and barked at her to get out. Startled, she realized that they were already there. She scrambled out of the cage as quickly as she could and stumbled onto the ground. Her legs, which hadn't been used for quite a while, protested, and she almost fell.

One of her guards grabbed her by the arm. As if I could escape in my current condition, she thought bitterly to herself. Cool metal locked her wrists in front, rendering her hands immobile. She was herded along to the lines of waiting slaves.

The auctioneer was already talking. He was taking bets for a young male slave that looked less than happy about his position. After a while, Claudia's attention drifted from the auctioneer's words and the crowd's response. It was the same over and over again. A slave was introduced, the bids were taken, and the slave was sold.

A particularly ugly slave went up. She looked as thin as a stick. Absentmindedly, Claudia wondered how she herself looked, having gone days with proper food or any baths. She had been an attractive woman before becoming enslaved, but she had no idea if that still showed. She knew she'd definitely be thinner and more frail, and probably dirtier too.

The slave before her went up to be sold. Claudia was suddenly nervous of her predicament. What if she was sold to someone cruel? What if she wasn't sold at all? Would they try again at a different location or simply kill her? The introduction by the auctioneer ended and the bidding started. Could she run away? There were no guards beside her. She saw several surrounding the area, however. Well, that idea was gone. Besides, she was stil handcuffed. She'd be able to survive a very short amount of time without the sue of her hands. Maybe she could pick the lock. With what?

These thoughts continued to race through Claudia's minds as the slave before her was sold and the auctioneer came for her. He hauled her up to some sort of stage. Claudia stumbled again, but managed to retain her balance. Once there, she glanced warily at the sea of people that swarmed before her. Would one of them bid for her?

The auctioneer led her to a tall post, seemingly unconcerned whether or not she was hurt along the process. He took hold of her handcuffs and attached them to the metal loop on the post. Claudia's hands were now raised over her head and she felt quite helpless.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have a fine lass here," the auctioneer began in his grating voice. "A little thin and dirty, but nothing a good meal and bath wouldn't clean up." The auctioneer glanced over Claudia's form a little. She suddenly became aware of the scant clothing that she was wearing - a torn tunic and a ragged skirt. They were the only things she'd been allowed to wear, and they did a terrible job of hiding her form. The earlier night's rain only made things worse. The tunic and skirt clung to her like a second skin, revealing all of her rather enticing curves.

"Auburn hair, green eyes, lustrous, pale skin," the auctioneer rattled off, as if he was describing an item. "A good one to play with for you men, eh?" he asked, sniggering at his little joke.

Claudia glared at him and before she could stop herself, spat. The auctioneer wiped the spittle off his face. "A feisty one, though," he continued, unpreturbed. He hit her smartly on the cheek and she winced, turning her head away in pain. Having been a noblewoman, she was unaccustomed to this abuse, and tears stung her eyes. "Nothing a good whipping wouldn't take out of her. Let's say we start the bidding at....15 pieces of gold."

A few seconds passed without sound, and Claudia thought that her earlier fears were in danger of becoming reality. But then, someone spoke. "I'll take that price."

Claudia looked quickly at the bidder. The man was standing close to the stage and she could see him quite well. He was missing several teeth and was covered with dirt, grime, and sweat. Even from the distance, she could smell his rather unpleasant scent. Oh please, she thought to herself, please let someone else bid.