What left Werther speechless was that just as he began to feel sleepy, the noise woke him again. He was easy to wake before he fell asleep, but once he was out, nothing could rouse him.
He sat up irritably and considered flattening this Auction House. Couldn't they even let a man sleep in peace?
The commotion that had woken him was the start of the auction. Disco's voice came from the stage.
Only one door separated the backstage area from the stage, so Werther could hear everything clearly.
Disco's comical introductions rang out over the audience's rolling cheers.
Werther had no intention of getting involved. He closed his eyes and rested.
Before long, two guards came backstage. One held a list.
"Get numbers one and two ready."
The guard with the list checked the order carefully. At his companion's acknowledgment, the other guard opened the iron door of the Prison Cell.
"You. Number two. Come out."
But the slave made no move. He only stared at the guard through gritted teeth.
The guard saw his expression and kicked him straight in the face.
"Bastard! How dare you look at me like that? Got a death wish?"
He kept kicking the slave as he spoke. The slave still had some fight in him and looked ready to strike back.
But when the guard seized the chain attached to his slave collar, the slave went completely still.
The two guards then shoved him toward the stage.
A wave of cheers erupted from the Auction House, followed by a succession of sales.
Slave after slave was taken away. Off to the side, Werther and Rayleigh drew no attention at all.
"Old Ray, why did you say we were a gardener and a cook? If I'd said I was a Swordsman, I might