BioWare owns this… blah, blah… characters are theirs… blah, blah, legalese… ideas' mine… blah, no profit, snore… rights and property of said game aren't mine… drifting… OC's and plot belong to me… BSOD
9:37 Dragon, Slave Market of Minanthros, month of Umbralis (Firstfall) 28, late morning
"Now, the Dog Lady you liked is up," Magister Vigilus Augustine Lynaus told her daughter, Magister Trysta Lynaus, "so let us see what 'Gregior' over there will do when I start off this bidding by showing him the crack of my arse." Trysta guffawed at her mother's dark humor while the auctioneer called out the start of bidding for the seamstress, and Augustine was sure to throw out her bid first just to spite the warrior she had faced off against for the last slave.
"An aurum fifty!" The Vigilus threw out the highest beginning bid of the auction, watching as Gregior's mouth promptly shut itself when he had been about to speak; obviously, he had been going to bid first, and with a lesser amount. "I call an aurum fifty."
"An aurum fifty is the starting bid!" The auctioneer announced, the gleam of his eye bright at the announcement; things were going to be on a roll for the auction, now. "Starting bid is at an aurum fifty! Do I hear higher?"
"Two aurum!" This came from an aristocratis, a well-dressed man in fine robes and powdered cheeks, a ring on every finger. Augustine grimaced at the sight of the magnus-genus getting into the game; a man such as that could probably outbid her everyday of the week without breaking a sweat.
"Three!" Augustine countered, her eyes on the scarred man, Gregior seemingly getting madder the higher the value went. She was correct; the man thought he was making a windfall by buying slaves on the cheap. Now that she had cracked into his little game, Augustine knew that the man didn't have as heavy a purse as he thought; probably smaller than hers. He had blown four aurum on a worthwhile slave, yet how much more gold did the man have in his pouch? Did he have enough for the ones he really wanted? Or was it about the quantity? What lone man not working for a Magister or a magnus-genus could have the coin for so many slaves? Why would he have the need for them? The Vigilus didn't know, but she didn't think it could bode well.
"The bid is at three! Three aurum!" The auctioneer cried out, as if she hadn't shouted loud enough. Augustine priced the seamstress at around five aurum; a woman with a marketable skill was of value, and she was of an age for breeding. Like the boy before her, she was worth more in potential value; if the Vigilus had been running a business involved with clothing, the seamstress would be the right choice for her. As a servant for her daughter, Augustine figured that she would be spending more than she should for a slave, but she wasn't about to go cheap on some lamed savage would couldn't tell that there was a difference between the left shoe and the right. She wanted one that had skills, as oppose to teaching them, that didn't need to be beaten into submission, but merely led towards it. The seamstress was a perfect buy for the young woman that stood beside her, looking on as her mother held the call for highest bid. "Offer stands at three aurum! Do I hear more?"
"Four."
The gasps of the crowd of buyers came in as Gregior announced his bid, throwing up a whole aurum into the pot. The man had the gall to give Augustine a cruel smile, as if he had already won. Cheap bastard finally reached for that pouch in between his legs and pulled it out, the Vigilus thought, wondering if the man though that since he had won at four aurum for the boy who was easily worth ten, that she wouldn't bid higher for a woman worth five, or didn't have the funds.
"Five!"
"Five aurum! The bid is now at five aurum!" The chubby auctioneer announced, and Augustine could swear she could see the rotund man practically rubbing his hands together in anticipation. It really was becoming like a real auction, and the word 'argentum' hadn't even entered the bids yet. Someone was going to be pleased with themselves. The Vigilus continued to stare down the male warrior, who was quietly fuming, his right eye staring death at her at her announcement of five gold pieces for the seamstress. Augustine, for the life of her, wasn't sure why he had bid for her. There was always the obvious answer of female companionship, yet companions were readily available in Minrathous, and were most definitely cheaper than four aurum. The man didn't have the look of one trying to by some sort of slave-wife, and if he had somehow struck rich and was trying to build up a retinue or an entourage, then he was simply wasting his money. "Do we have a higher bid? Anyone?" The auctioneer asked the crowd of buyers, eyes eyes casting about. "The bid stands at five aurum! Does anyone have better? Anyone?" The rest of the buyers were silent as Gregior stood there silently, defiantly staring at Augustine as the Vigilus stared right back, unintimidated. "Going once! Going twice! Sold! To the Magister's Vigilus!"
The applause the followed the concluding auction was loud; louder than it had been for the boy. True, Augustine had spent more, but the congratulations was more for the victory of the slave that was bought than the price that was spent. The male warrior's face was the very picture of rage as the Vigilus smirked at him, blowing a kiss in his direction. It wasn't very sportsmanlike of her, but Augustine was pleased with herself. She had bought a slave that her daughter had wanted for a good price, and come-up'ed a man who thought he was going to have his way; all-in-all, a good day. Now they would have to sit out for the rest of the auction, having to pay after all the slaves had their turn for auction at the Block, and collecting the seamstress afterwards. It was Auction policy; once one entered the Block when the auction started, one couldn't leave until it was finished, keeping buyers from bidding more money than what they had in the pouches, or skipping out on their bill. With seven more aurum still in her pouch dangling between her bosom underneath her heavy plate armor, Augustine thought of the fun she might have with the scarred-faced man if he was so desperate in buying slaves in quantity.
The auction moved onto the eighth slave, some man that looked to be a beggar, and this time it was Gregior that started the bidding at twenty-five argentum, in which the Vigilus immediately raised to thirty, just to spite the man. The bids starting going back and forth and finally petered off at seventy argentum, in which Augustine let the man concede the win. Though he had gotten his slave, the scarred man didn't look happy that he had competition on a slave that even the auctioneer wouldn't expect a good return on. Still, the master of the Block was happy that prices were going up, and that he might be recouping his losses from the first six slaves. Every slave that came up after, Gregior bid upon, lowly at that, and Augustine countered him. In most cases, the Vigilus was able to drive the prices as much as five times as much as the warrior started off at. Most of the slaves weren't worth that much, but on several of them, they were auctioned off for slightly more than they were worth. Augustine had to play her game carefully; she didn't want a slave to care for, as she had no need for one. She didn't want to find herself buying another Dog Lord, so she only stopped bidding when Gregiors' face started turning an uglier shade of purple.
Slaves came up to the Block and were auctioned off accordingly, a few of the aristocrati giving off bids, and one of the Magisters' joining in for a rotund specimen of a male, fleshy jowls and folds quivering as he watched with large, fearful eyes as the Magister bid an aurum for the fat man. Augustine snorted at the sight; someone was bidding for a blood cow, for sure, and stayed out of that contest. Gregior, too, decided to remain silent as the Magister won the fat man easily, the Magisters' Vigilus grim of face as his eyes went to Augustine for a moment, and she recognized the man; Pax. The male Vigilus gave her the smallest of nods, his face never changing, yet the look in his eyes showed the briefest look of fondness.
"Who is that Magister?" Magister Trysta Lynaus asked, seeing how her mother was looking in that direction. "I don't recognize him."
"That is Magister Pletus Vore; one of the battlemages that commands our armies." Augustine answered her daughter, seeing how the Magisters' robes had chainmail sewed into its folds, and undoubtedly more protection was underneath the cloth. "He commands the Tenth Legion, who has a great reputation against the Qunari." The Vigilus informed her daughter, seeing Trysta looking over to the Magister with a little bit of awe and a healthy amount of respect. "The Magisters' Vigilus is Pax of Marnus Pell, a well-renowned warrior in his own right."
"I would like to talk to them, if you are done toying with that draconian-looking man over there." Trysta informed her mother, giving a sidelong glance to Gregior, whose gaze never left the Magister or her Vigilus. Augustine sighed in exasperation, nodding her head in agreement. Both Magister and Vigilus approached Magister Vore and his own guardian, both Vigili in front of their charges as was customary. When they reached speaking distance, Augustine stopped and placed her weapon hand over her heart in the Tevinter sign of peaceful greetings.
"I am the Vigilus for my Mistress, Magister Trysta Lynaus, who wishes for permission to speak to your Master." Augustine spoke, following the protocol that had been establish long ago.
"Well met and salutation, Vigilus of Magister Trysta Lynaus." Pax replied correctly, his face never changing from its grim continence. "I am the Vigilus of Master Pletus Vore. Let me confer with my Master your Mistress' wishes." Protocol finished, Magister Pletus took two steps forward, as did Magister Trysta Lynaus, both bowing to one another before the began to speak. Augustine watched as her daughter spoke to the battlemage, a young woman conversing to a well-respected member of the Imperium on her own accord. It made the mother proud as she stood beside Pax, watching the two Magisters talk as Trysta asked Magister Pletus about what it was like fighting for the Imperium as the auction went on.
"So, this is she?" Pax asked, his arms folded across his chest as he looked upon both mages as they conversed, watching as the older Magister speak to the younger one, answering a question about his spells as Trysta looked upon the man, a little bit of hero worship shining in her eyes as she listened intently.
"Yes, she is." Augustine answered, more than a little proud. "She just finished being apprenticed with Magister Rakaius Solis, and she passed the Tests to be accepted into the Academy of Magic. I am quite proud of her."
"She has her mother's spirit." Pax replied, looking from mother, to daughter, and then back to the mother. "And her eyes."
"Flatterer." The female Vigilus told her male companion with a snarky smile. "And here I thought we'd make some lout of a son, more muscles than brains. Instead, our daughter is a Magister. Who would have guessed?"
"Who indeed?" Pax replied simply. "You've done well for her, Augustine. I'm glad to see that she was raised well, and that the money I sent was put to good use. Apprenticing her with Magister Rakaius was an amazing accomplishment. Seeing her as a Magister so young proves how good a mother you were to her."
"She had a good sire, too." The Vigilus told Trysta's father, who merely grunted. "You should talk to her, Pax. You sired her, after all. She would be interested in meeting you, and to know what she means to you. She is the only surviving child you've had; I know you think the world of her. Why do you think I made sure I kept you informed of all of her accomplishments over these years, Pax? It certainly wasn't due to over-bounding amounts of affection I had for you. I picked you to be the sire of my child because you were what I desired in a mate, and had the qualities that I sought out for my child. Now look at her, Pax. She's grown up to become a Magister, and that is because of us. Who would have thought that two custos like us would have ever sired a child of the Arts? Here, I thought you'd be the perfect sire for a son for you to raise."
"You did well, Augustine. Regardless of the fact that she is a Magister, you did well by her." Pletus' Vigilus replied honestly, his eyes on the young woman talking to his master. "I know that you desired to bare me a son, but I think you did us even better by having a daughter. A Magister is worth a thousand warriors, and it was from your womb she came. You have every right to be a proud mother, just as I am a proud sire." The man was silent for a moment, and it seemed that Trysta took notice that both Vigili were looking at her, causing her to look at her mother questioningly. Augustine motioned for her daughter to join them, and both Magisters' came, Magister Pletus nodding to Augustine, recognizing the young woman's Vigilus from her time in training when she was under Pax's tutelage.
"Trysta, I would like for you to meet someone." Augustine indicated to the man whom stood beside her, her daughter looking at the man with some curiosity. "This man here was the man who trained me to be a Vigilus. He was also the one I chose to be the sire of my child; you. This is your sire, Pax of Marnus Pell." The young woman looked a little shocked as she looked at the man in a new light, her eyes tracing over every inch of the man her mother had chosen to get her with child. That the man was an impressive specimen of a Tevinter warrior was evident; both tall and strong, with a proud bearing and a facade that struck both toughness and virtue to those who stood in his presence. Trsyta looked into the man's eyes, obviously trying to search out the reason why her mother picked this man over any other to give birth for the Imperium, to guarantee another generation of Imperium citizens. Augustine could see the emotions written on her daughter's face, meeting her sire for the first time in the flesh, seeing a powerful warrior, the epitome of a Tevinter warrior before her.
"You mother often wrote about you, amo una." Pax told the young woman, calling her 'cherished one', his voice gentle as his face softened; probably for the first time in years, Augustine thought wily. "To know that I helped bring to our Imperium a proud and powerful warrior dedicated to our way of life fills this heart of mine with pride and joy. To see you before me, a Magister ready to join the Academy, reminds me of why I do what I do, and makes the sacrifices of hard-training and blood all the more worth while. I… love you, filia."
"Thank you, pater." Trysta gave her sire a bow, showing him not only respect, but affection as well. "My mother chose very wisely in her selection of a sire, and I am happy to have finally met mine. I… would like to write to you as well. To hear your stories, to know your courage, as your blood flows in my veins as well. I will make you proud of me, pater, so that you may know that if one day you are to come back on your shield, I will honor your spirit and take your place."
"It is good, then." Pax replied softly, as he gently took off his steel gauntlet and softly caressed the cheek of his daughter with his knuckles, his hand tentative as a hardened warrior showed love and affection to the daughter he had met for the first time. "Learn well and train hard in the Academy, mea filia, and never give into fear; fear is for your lessers to feel."
"I will, pater." The young woman smiled, and Augustine was a little surprised to see that Pax smiled, too; a small smile that looked so strange and out-of-practice on his stony face.
"Come, puella," Augustine gently interrupted, hating herself for having to do so, "the auction is almost over, and we need to pay the auctioneer and pick up our newest addition."
"Yes, Vigilus." The young Magister replied, straightening herself out and holding herself in a proud manner. "I bid you a good day, Magister Pletus Vore. I enjoyed our conversation together, and look forward to having more with you." Together, both Magisters' bowed to each other properly. Protocol finished, Trysta turned to her sire, and bowed to him to, in which the Vigilus of Pletus Vore returned without hesitation. They both straightened themselves, and the young woman ended it with a sweet smile for her father. Together, Augustine and her charge moved away from the older Magister and his Vigilus, and Trysta allowed herself to sigh in the company of her mother as they moved towards the pens where the procurators held the purchased servi for payment and pick-up for their new masters. "I always knew that my sire was an impressive warrior, as I knew you wouldn't settle for anything less, mother." The young woman said to Augustine as they headed towards the iron cages. "He was… a good deal more so than I expected. He looks capable of breaking an ox-man in half. I am… glad to have met him."
"As am I, filia." The Vigilus replied honestly, giving her daughter a secret smile as they reached the pens, where the thirty-two slaves who had been purchased were waiting for their owners, contained in pens that was specifically for each owner, not each slave. Only a few were occupied, the heaviest populated one being the one holding Gregior's purchases. Augustine had honestly lost track of the auction when her daughter started talking to Magister Pletus Vore and herself to her daughter's sire. Now she could see that Gregior had an overwhelming majority of the slaves brought in, and only four other cages had a slave each in them; one being their own. Augustine could see the seamstress in her cage, laying on the floor face down as if asleep. The Vigilus moved forward to prepare to retrieve her when her experienced eye started catching details; something was amiss. The slaves in their cages were standing as far away from the seamstress as possible, and there certainly wasn't any other lying down.
That was when Augustine saw the blood.
"Circuitor! Circuitor!" The Vigilus shouted, her voice rising over the den of people as she called for the watchmen. Trysta looked at her mother in puzzlement at first, and then at the slave lying at the bottom of the cage, and her face went pale at the sight of murder. "Homicidium! Ego clamor homicidium!" Augustine's words had the intended effect as the aristocrati spied what she had seen, and joined in the hue and cry. Within a very few short moments, the Minrathous City Guardsmen were coming to the scene, having stand guard to the Auction Block to search those who came in, and kept those without the money to afford to purchase a slave from joining in. Several of the Circuitors arrived at the scene, with the Coryphaeus Circuitor leading the procession of five watchmen, the one in charge being a block of a man with epaulets on the shoulder boards of his chainmail uniform. The Coryphaeus took one look at the Vigilus who gave off the cry of murder, the aristocrati milling about, making a ruckus with their bleats of murder most foul, and then to the body of the slave who laid at the bottom of the cage, a growing pool of blood swelling under her head.
"Order! Order!" The Coryphaeus called out, pulling out a leather sap and slapping the lead weight against the armor of his leg, making a loud crack that quelled the babbling of the magnus-genus that lamented at the sight of a dead body. "Who here cries murder?"
"I, Magister Vigilus Augustine Lynaus, cry murder, Circuitor." The Vigilus announced to where everyone in the Block could here. "When I bought this slave, she was hale and hearty. When I came to pay for her and collect her, I found her in this state!" The watchman-in-charge looked to the slave's body, calling out for a key for the cage. The auctioneer, dry-washing his hands in nervousness in the edge of the crowd, called out to one of his procurators for the key, which was promptly brought to the Coryphaeus Circuitor. The lead watchman opened the cage of the slave while the other watchmen under him formed a ring around the Coryphaeus, to both protect their superior and the scene of the crime from disturbance. The watchman with the epaulets on his shoulders flipped the seamstress over, to see the front of her body.
Her throat had been cruelly cut.
The sight of the slave's newest smile across her neck had the aristocrati wail and moan at the sight of such a gruesome death, though none looked away as a few put perfumed handkerchiefs to their noses. None said a word at the sight of the murdered slave; killing owned property was a capital offense in the Tevinter Imperium, and would result in a visible branding, as well as the full compensation of not only the slave's price, but also their value and worth for the rest of their days. That was if the man were an aristorcratis. If the man were a plebeian, he would lose his citizenry from the Imperium, and the next auction would have him upon the Block.
"The slave's throat has been slit." The Coryphaeus announced, as if everyone in the Block didn't already know. "Murder has been done, and it has been done with a blade. Circuitor? Please secure all persons allowed to carry weapons in the Block. One will still have blood on it, or at least the scent of it." The lead watchman announced as he stepped out of the cage the slave laid in, his voice bold enough that everyone could hear it. Only certain individuals were allowed to enter armed into the Auction Block, and only then with a single knife. Plebeian and aristorcrati were not allowed to have any type of weapon in their possession in the Block, nor were any of their defensors allowed to enter into the Block at all. The only ones allowed into the Block armed were Vigils, commissioned officers known as legatos and tributes of the Imperium Army, and Grey Wardens. Even Magisters went unarmed, their staffs and staves left at the entrance along with any of the weapons that potential buyers might have brought, though they were fully capable of using their magic without their focus.
"Here is my knife, ready to inspect." Augustine stepped forward immediately, drawing her foot-long hunting blade from its sheath, presenting it towards the Circuitors hilt first, holding it as an offer. Vigilus Pax of Marnus Pell stepped right beside Augustine, holding his knife forward in the same manner as her, a large dueling dagger in his hands. A third Vigilus, a man of Augustine's size and baring more than a few grey hairs on his aged face moved to the other side of her, presenting his own weapon, a hewing knife that was tapered towards the hilt, meant to take off limbs. Two of the Circuitors came forward to inspect the pro-offered blades, seeing that they were clean, without blemish, and completely absent of any signs of blood, while the other two Circuitors and their Coryphaeus stood watch to make sure that none of the others moved from the location or tried to destroy any evidence. The two inspecting watchmen spent a few minutes at their job, calling out their satisfaction that the blades of the Vigils were not the murder weapon. The three Vigils sheathed their knives, Augustine ramming hers home in her sheath with a little bit more force than was needed as her eyes went to the warrior named Gregior, seeing that on the man's belt was a knife. "I see another armed man, Circuitor. That one did not come forward." The Vigilus pointed out the warrior, whose scarred face scowled at her as she identified the man.
"Come forth, togatus." The Coryphaeus called out, his main hand sliding to the handle of his mace, standing in a pose of readiness and giving off an aire of superiority. "Bring forth your knife, stranger, for inspection, or be clapped in irons and judged for non-compliance!"
"Ego consentio." The scarred warrior finally replied, taking two slow steps forward towards the Circuitors, the two that had inspected the Vigils moving forward with their hands on their maces, ready to break a limb if needed. Gregior stopped in his tracks as the Circuitors approached him, motioning the man to stop and hold his hands upwards. Augustine was relieved to see the man comply, for she had more than a few nagging doubts that he might not, and one of the Circuitorus moved to the man's knife, pulling it out of his sheath as the watchman took several steps back as his partner kept a steely eye on Gregior, hand still on the handle of his mace. The Circuitor with the knife moved his gaze from the man to his knife, and began to inspect it, wiping a finger down the length of the tang of the blade, and inspecting his fingerpad.
"There is blood on the blade, Coryphaeus." The Circuitor called out. "Fresh blood!"
"Iudicium!" One of the Aristocratus called out loud, calling for judgment on the spot. "Iudicium! Iudicium! The plebeian murdered owned property!" Augustine had to smile at that; any aristocrati not involved in a crime as a victim or the condemned could call for immediate trial and judgment on the spot of the crime if the offender had been found. It could be seconded by another of the aristocrati for immediate lawfulness, which the Vigilus as a plebeian could not do.
But a Magister could.
"I second the call for iustitia!" Trysta Lynaus shouted out, her voice steady and calm as she put forth her claim for justice, as she was considered a third party; despite the fact that it was for the young woman that Augustine had purchased the slave for, it had been the Vigilus who had done the bidding and the intent of paying the price she had secured from the auctioneer; even though Augustine hadn't paid for the seamstress yet, she had entered into a verbal contract with the auctioneer, and thus the slave by Imperium law was hers. Even if it was contested, it was the property of the auctioneer, and the same rules applied. "Iustitia for a citizen's lost property!"
"Iudicium has been called for and seconded!" The Coryphaeus called out to the throng. "Circuitor! Secure the man and clap in irons!" Four of the Circuitors moved forward, each pulling out their truncheon maces as they stalked towards the now-unarmed man. Gregior had the brief look of a man ready to run, but saw that there was no escape; the Block was guarded by more Circuitors, the Block by procurators, the slave ship by sailors and slavers, not to mention the three armed Vigilus and Magisters that stood there, looking at the man in question. Gregior rose his hands, submitting himself to Imperium law. One of the Circuitors put his mace back on his belt loop, pulling out an iron stockade piece; two flattened bars with circles pounded into them to fit around a perpetrator's wrists, completed with a bolt that would keep the bars together, securing the condemned's hands. The Circuitor brought Gregior's hands down, placing his wrists in the appropriate places, and closed the stockade piece, the warrior grimacing as the bars undoubtedly pressed into his flesh, the bars meant to be secure as oppose to comfortable. "Who was the victim of this crime?"
"I am, Coryphaeus." Augustine called out, taking a small step forward. "And the auctioneer." She added as an afterthought, the rotund man meekly stepping forward when she announced him. "I have lost the use of my property, in which I won in auction against the accused. This auctioneer has lost funds promised him in auction by the accused for the purchase of his property."
"And how much was the total amount of funds promised for the purchase of your property?" The Coryphaeus asked the auctioneer, who was about to answer, but Augustine beat him to the punch.
"Fifty-four aurum, and thirty-five argentum." The Vigilus responded with an honest face and voice, the auctioneer doing a quick job of covering his shock as the watchman-in-charge was looking at her. While Augustine didn't know the actual amount, she definitely added to it. By a good deal.
"The Vigilus is correct, Coryphaeus." The auctioneer added smoothly, not at all ready to dissuade the watchman-in-charge from what Augustine had told him. The Vigilus figured that the scarred-faced man had spent perhaps forty-plus aurum on the slaves; well below their worth. While the amount she had rattled off wouldn't cover the amount of the slaves… they would return to his possession if their owner was imprisoned or dead. The auctioneer would be able to sell them again, and get himself another chance of making a nice tidy little profit.
"Circuitor, check the man for funds, and see if he was telling the truth about his ability to afford so many slaves." The Coryphaeus told one of the watchmen, who went to find the man's money pouch that was secured to his belt. The Circuitor in question relieved the man of his money, Gregior's face turning an ugly beet-red, yet said nothing with three other Circuitors surrounding him with truncheon maces in their hands and himself in irons.
"Coryphaeus?" The watchman held the pouch in his hand, slightly opened, and was looking up from it with a bit of a shocked look upon his face. "Coryphaeus? This plebeian must have eighty-to-ninety in aurum here alone, and probably several aurum worth in argentum and aeris." The watchman announced, drawing the curiosity and suspicion of the others; what plebeian could have so much in gold, silver, and copper? Few professions could afford so much, especially into the hands of a common man.
"Confiscate it." The Coryphaeus gave the easiest answer. "And pay the auctioneer what he was due." That had the rotund man's eyes light up pleasantly as the Circuitor doled out fifty-four aurum and thirty-five argentum to the auctioneer, who held out his hands like a boy in a confectionery shop. The rotund man collected his dues from the Circuitor, who snapped the pouch shut when the funds had been re-appropriated, handing it over to the Coryphaeus. The watchman-in-charged hefted the money pouch in a single hand, bouncing it in his palm, feeling its weight. "How much were you to buy your property, Vigilus?"
"Five aurum, Coryphaeus." Augustine answered honestly. She watched as the Coryphaeus open up the pouch and pull out five gold coins, depositing it in her gauntleted hand.
"And I shall donate to you a slave of your choosing from our available stock, Vigilus, free of charge." The auctioneer announced, meaning one of the slaves that the scarred-faced man had intended to purchase. Augustine nodded her consent at the generosity; though most of the slaves that Gregior had won at auction were of sub-standard quality at best, a few were choice specimens that Trysta had identified as wanting, and had met the Vigilus's exacting standards. She had done the auctioneer a favor, and now he was repaying the debt. Everybody won.
"Circuitor? Secure the prisoner, iudicium has been served for the victims, and iustitia will be met for the condemned." The Coryphaeus circuitor called out, to the pleasing noises of the attending aristocrati surrounding the scene as the watchman-in-charge pocketed the money pouch of Gregiors, undoubtedly to help fund the attending watchmen's own personal coffers. "Our next stop shall be the gallows. Glory to the Imperium!"
"Gloria ut in Imperium!" Every voice of the citizenry in the auction joined in save by the slaves in the pens and the scarred man in irons.
A/N: Again, writing about a slave auction required some research, including Roman property laws. Killing a slave was not theft or murder, but somewhere in between. And boy isn't Latin fun?