A Hawk in the Hand [Tally!]

[Rhindeer]

Scarab needed a fresh new diversion.

She hadn't been really sure what, for the market seemed rather dull today (at least, dull to her current mood, but that was also bound to change at a moment's notice), but something drew her out of the market proper and to the slave sector. May as well browse and see what they were offering today, for while there were no things of interest today, people were always fairly exciting. After all, no two were quite alike.

With a flick of her hand, her servants carried her there by palanquin, and let her down when she so requested. She wrinkled her nose as she glanced about at the slaves on sale, for this place always smelled rather repulsive, and she couldn't help but wonder why the slavers didn't think to bathe their people before they put them for sale. Wouldn't they sell better if they were clean and presentable? No matter. She watched where she stepped as she walked down the rows, a pensive finger to her lips as she eyed one slave head to toe before moving onto the next, tongue clicking.

So far, nothing. Nothing that really stood out. She wasn't interested in the ones that looked like they'd had the souls sucked out of them; she was looking for personality, someone different, someone that stood out among the--

A shock of white caught her eye, and she glanced across the way to where a white-haired man stood. Pale skin, tall, and an athletic build amplified by the fact that he wore nothing but a loin cloth. And his face, his features...

He was quite stunning, and his skin was fair, but not pinkish like so many of the other foreign pigs. Intrigued, she stepped closer, trailed by her servants, and tilted her head curiously as she gazed up at him.

"You there," she said, smiling as she examined him up and down. "How are you called?"

[Tally]

To defy or to submit?  Hawk's life in the arena had become a refrain of this question, and here it was again.  Did he give his name, or insult the Essyrni by refusing it?  Her scrutiny bothered him not so much as her general existence in the first place.  He did not care if she looked at him--he was rather annoyed he had to look at her, however.  Every one of these slave-owning dogs affronted him with their presence.

It took him too long to decide.  The long beats of silence before he surrendered a terse, "Hawk," would be insult enough to a lady of such standing.

"Most esteemed lady," came the voice of the slave peddler, followed by the steady footsteps of the slave peddler down the row of stalls.  "Has my Serenian stock caught your eye?"

[Rhindeer]

Hrm. Well, he was rather impolite, but Scarab imagined that was to be expected, considering he was a slave and all. She imagined they all had rather difficult lives, so it might be logical that they'd be surly and bitter. She eyed this "Hawk" more closely at that and pursed her lips. Insult or not, that was what made him more interesting than the others; this one wasn't broken.

But before she could add anything else, the peddler approached and Scarab tore her eyes from the slave to regard him instead.

"Oh, so he's Serenian? No wonder he's so pale," she said, cocking her head to the side, birdlike and curious. "Hm. He could use a little sun, but I must say, he is rather ravishing. Is he good at much else beyond looking pretty?"

[Tally]

"This one comes from the arena, esteemed lady," the slave peddler said.  "Where he apparently excelled.  His victories took on a reputation for being...rather the spectacle."

Which was to say extravagantly bloody, and marked by his habit of leaving his opponents in pieces.  And chunks.

"And I'm told he was favored by those lords and ladies who enjoy partaking of the gladiators."

Which was to say they went looking for the thrill of bedding a dangerous killer, and he provided well for them.

"But alas, my graceful one, he is not available for purchase to everyone.  Shall I show you my other Serenian stock?  I have many beauties, ones who are far less dangerous to own."

[Rhindeer]

A gladiator? Well, color her intrigued! And one that had earned a reputation as a spectacle? Now that was interesting, and exactly the sort of thing she'd been looking for. Scarab rather enjoyed the fights down at the Colosseum, for there was little better than watching a couple muscle-bound, sweaty brutes struggling for their lives, and few things got her heart pumping more. She didn't exactly like the gore, didn't exactly love it when the intestines started spilling out, but when they got all dirty and bloody and sweaty it was...strangely attractive in a primal, delicious way.

She certainly knew she wasn't the only lady who got all bothered at the sight, so the news that he was favored among other people of high standing only made her want him more. If she could own something other people coveted...what was better than that? She could loan him out, or decide not to. People could beg her for a taste of him, and she could decide to be gracious or not.

His popularity would make her more popular and envied, and she did so love being the subject of peoples' desires and jealousy, both.

She was more than ready to start throwing coins at the peddler when he went and...started backing out? Tried to divert her attention to others?

Scarab's eyes narrowed, her lips pulling into a tight line. "No," she said. "I'll take him."

[Tally]

"Ahaha...ah, you see, my esteemed lady..."  Sweat beaded upon the man's face, and his smile curdled, something like fear freezing his features.  His eyes darted to Hawk, who returned the look with a level, flat stare and hard eyes.

"That...has some difficulties, gracious one.  You see, he must go to someone, ah, vigilant.  Someone of utmost care and steadfastness."

As it happened, the peddler's life depended on this.

"It is so much work owning this one, truly!  He needs so much attention!  Let me show you an Adelan gladiator in the next row.  She is a great mountain of a woman.  They say she ripped the head off an opponent with her bare hands!"

[Rhindeer]

Scarab cut him off before he'd even finished his last sentence. "I want him, and I will have him. Are you implying I'm so stupid as to not realize what it takes? To not have the resources to handle him? To have come here so unprepared?"

She lifted her chin, drawing herself up and meeting his eyes dead on, a silent challenge and a warning to word his answer very, very carefully.

Of course, she hadn't come here prepared for such a purchase, but he didn't need to know that. She was certain her servants were beefy enough to handle him.

[Tally]

The slave peddler's eyes darted back to Hawk, who answered the glance with a slow, predatory smile.

The peddler mopped the nervous sweat from his face with a sleeve and motioned for Scarab to follow him.

"You see, my lady," he said once they were out of earshot of Hawk, "his is somewhat a special case."

His hand rose to clutch at a simple emerald and gold necklace about his neck.  "He is bound by a charm in this necklace.  Whoever holds the necklace, holds his will.  Only..."

Here, the peddler paled, looking back in the direction they had come from.  "Only if ever the necklace is not touching the skin of a person--for even an instant--the charm will break and he will be free.  And he has sworn to...to make his displeasure known to any who have owned or sold him should he ever be free again."

[Rhindeer]

Scarab listened to the peddler prattle on, nodding impatiently before, finally, he was done with his spiel. She gave a dismissive flick of her hand.

"Yes, yes, that's all very well and good," she said. "But that does not change my decision. How much is he?"

If anything, it only made her want him more.

[Tally]

The peddler drew himself up, clearly regaining some of his confidence here.

"For such rare and unique stock?  Two dozen serpents."

Which was an outlandish, unheard of price for a slave.  The Shah did not pay so much for slaves.

[Rhindeer]

...That was...a hefty price, indeed. A ridiculous price, in fact. No slave was worth so much!

But this was a matter of pride now, and she was not about to be denied by some peddler. If all that stood between her and her goal was twelve serpents, then by Hakeshna she would pay the fee. If this slave was as notorious and coveted as the peddler claimed, she could make the number back tenfold, anyway, provided he lived long enough. It was utterly absurd and completely not worth it, yet...she couldn't just walk away now. If she did, this man would have won, and Scarab always got what she wanted.

"Very well," she said with a lift of her chin. "I'll have the sum delivered to you by noon."