The slaves were ushered from their respective carts and made to fall in line at the entrance of the market. Collars made of cast iron, fitted with a lock at diametrically opposite ends so that the two halves could be snapped open and close, were placed around their necks. Each of the slaves were then chained to each other. The children were made to form a separate line, with similar collars placed around their necks.

The boy, who was placed towards the centre of the second line looked around, noticing that there were more caravans unloading similar wares at the entry to the market. Each of the slave caravans had their own unique traits. Some had only female slaves, others, only children. Some of the caravans used sinister looking collars with spikes on the inner side which dug painfully into the slave’s necks. The boy was grateful that his own captors did not use similar tools of the trade. Each of the caravans formed their own lines of bound slaves, before herding them closer to where Randal’s slaves were lined up. The caravan masters greeted each other enthusiastically, inspecting each others wares and congratulating the one’s who had a good haul this time. The boy couldn’t help but notice that Randal was among those that were being congratulated.

After what seemed like an eternity, the slaves were urged to move, all of the various slave lines moving strangely in sync through the pushing and prodding of their respective owners. As they proceeded into the market, a wide range of smells and sounds hit the boy. There were a humongous number of stalls, crammed into every available space one could find. There were an even more humongous number of street peddlers, hawking their various wares laid out on blankets on the ground. As the patrol approached to evict them unceremoniously, the peddlers grabbed the corners of the blankets, lifting them to collect all of their wares in one fell swoop and then vanishing into the crowd, only to set up shop somewhere else.

As they made their way through the throngs of people, from time to time, a part of the slave procession would be separated from the group before being led towards another direction, towards a possibly different destiny. A better one? or something worse than what awaited the boy? He did not want to know. The female slaves, who were a significant part of the group, were the first to be split off from the group. Many of the Caravan leaders split off to join this group while the other caravan leaders, Randall included, led the group containing the boy. The significantly smaller group had an easier time navigating the crowds, this difficulty, progressively decreasing as additional groups of slaves were split from the group and led in different directions. Randall stuck with the original group of slaves, which now mostly comprised of children, as they finally reached their destination.

They entered a single storied building, the guards acknowledging Randall with a curt nod before pushing the doors open. The slaves were then led towards a side of the building, housing what looked like a huge cage. The slaves were led into the cage before their collars were unlocked. The boy massaged his neck and collarbones, trying to soothe where the collar had chafed his skin. The ones with the spiked collars were given rags to wrap around their necks as some sort of a makeshift bandage.

Randall and the other caravan leaders stood off near the cage, discussing something while pointing at a few of the slaves.

After what seemed like a few hours, a procession of men walked in, dressed richly with flowing robes made of silk and gold thread. Their clothing as well as demeanour spoke volumes about their wealth. They strolled up lazily towards the cage and peered in scornfully.

The caravan leaders immediately approached the nobles, fawning over them and flattering them with subservient smiles and false praise. They spoke for a while, gesticulating at the slaves while the nobles peered back into the cage.

The nobles then proceeded towards a circular dais that was placed adjacent to the cage and sat around it in ornate chairs. The caravan leaders then unlocked the cage and proceeded to prod the slaves one by one onto the dais.

The nobles then bid for the slaves, their voices never raising above a whisper, never rising against each other. The boy hadn’t seen any auctions during his life, but he had never expected it to be so full of etiquette.

It was his turn now. Randall prodded the boy onward to his future, whatever it may be. The nobles inspected him like they did every other child before a noble to the right of the boy bid the highest. The boy was then led off to a different room where the slaves who have already been auctioned were segregated into groups. The boy could only assume that the groups were based on who bought the slaves.

He was placed in a small group, consisting of only two other slaves. They were younger than him by the looks of it, or they could have been older, he couldn't judge since they looked more undernourished than the boy himself.

The slaves waited for a long while, as new slaves were brought in and added into the groups. There was only one another addition to the boy’s group as the sun set and night dawned. Oil lamps were lit around the room and gruel was provided to the slaves.

After a few more hours, the slaves were then carted off towards the exit, where there awaited slave carts of various sizes, not unlike those that were used to transport the slaves into the city. The boy’s group was led towards a small cart, painted a bright blue. It was one of the few carts that was loud in it’s colours. Painted in various shades of bright blue and yellow, it stood out from most of the other carts. There were also a few other carts that were similarly showy. Each of these carts was painted differently, some had horses painted ornately all over the cart while other had a man hunched over a horse painted on their sides while others were painted in startlingly bright combinations of greens, reds and other colours.

The noble who had bought the boy’s group came up to them and inspected them once again before heading back to his carriage. The boy’s group was then prodded towards the cart behind the noble’s carriage before locking them in the cart’s cage.

The cart started along on the pathway after sometime, towards their future. The boy looked around, his eyes resting on the last boy who was added to his group. He was taller than the boy and lankier still. He did not look undernourished however.

Noticing his gaze, the tall boy looked back.

“The name’s Ermic, What’s yours?” he said

The boy stared into Ermic’s eyes.

“Arran” the boy replied, thinking about his mother. She shall live on, through him.