A little more Elizabeth…I've been waiting to write this part since I started the story. Hope you enjoy it! And thanks for the reviews, as always!


By early afternoon, the slave troupe had reached the outskirts of a large town that reminded Elizabeth strongly of her history lessons on Colonial America. Elos and the others stopped outside a fairly large building and tethered their horses to a post by the door. They led their charges inside, with Elos and Elizabeth trailing at the end.

Inside, the building resembled an old-style prison. The hallway was lined with heavy wooden doors, each with a small barred window and a heavy padlock. Most were unlocked, but judging from the locked doors, a few held prisoners.

Elos walked up to one of the doors and gestured for Elizabeth to go inside. She took a deep breath and walked in with as much dignity as she could muster. Elos followed her inside and shut the door. She narrowed her eyes and set her shoulders, but her stomach tightened slightly; she didn't like where this situation could be heading.

He set his pack on the floor and walked toward her. She managed not to back up through sheer force of will. He looked at her curiously, but she only relaxed when she realized he meant only to untie the rope around her wrists.

Elizabeth sighed in relief as Elos walked back toward the door. She massaged her wrists where the tight ropes had started to rub her skin raw. The tension was beginning to bleed from her tired muscles, but it returned full force when she heard the next words Elos spoke.

"Take off your clothes."

Elizabeth felt her heartbeat and breathing quicken as her mind raced with the implications of that statement. She stood frozen, trying to bring the fear that she knew showed in her face under control. Elos was bending over his pack, retrieving a bundle of cloth. He didn't seem nervous or remorseful at all, and Elizabeth began to wonder if she had read him wrong earlier.

When he didn't hear any movement for a moment, Elos turned to survey his captive. Confusion and impatience passed through his features, and he repeated his order once again. "I said, take off your clothes. Now do it!"

Elizabeth clamped down hard on the panic rising within her and fought to keep her voice steady. "No," she replied firmly. I can't let this happen. John will never forgive himself if I let this man…rape me. I will not let that happen! Not without a fight! She squared her shoulders, her entire body tensed with fear.

Impatience changed quickly to anger. "No? Why the hell not? What do you think is gonna…." He trailed off as a look of comprehension dawned on his face, followed by disgusted horror. "You think I'm gonna…I would never!..." he stammered, trying to regain his composure. He seemed to flounder for words before he finally blurted out, "Hell, I just want you to put this damn dress on! I'm not gonna rape you!" He ran a hand through his hair, obviously shaken by her assumption.

The tension within her evaporated instantly. She had never felt so relieved in her life, and she almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of the entire situation. However, at that moment, Elos recovered from his shock, and the mask was thrown back into place. "Now that we've got that out of the way," he said without any hint of emotion, "take off your clothes."

Reluctantly, Elizabeth removed her jacket and bent to untie her boots. She continued to strip off one layer at a time until finally she was standing in the cell wearing only her bra and underwear. Her cheeks slightly tinged, she looked up at Elos, praying that he would let her keep some shred of dignity and not make her undress completely in front of him.

Fortunately, Elos merely tossed her a rough but lightweight piece of white fabric. As she unfolded it, she saw it was a plain sleeveless dress that would fall about midway down her calves. It tied at each shoulder, and Elizabeth briefly wondered why they hadn't chosen an easier design. Her musings were cut short by soft sounds of clanking metal coming from Elos' direction. She jerked her head up sharply and saw that Elos now held two pairs of manacles and a thin but sturdy metal ring in his hands.

The sense of dread returned to Elizabeth's stomach as Elos approached her with the new restraints. She held out her hand in a placating gesture as she pleaded with her eyes and voice. "Elos," she said softly, "please, are those really necessary? I don't think I can get out of this room; there's no need to restrain me further."

Elos sighed, but continued toward her. "I know," he said with a twinge of regret in his voice, "but the cuffs are standard protocol for all new slaves. And the collar is mandatory. It's permanent, the mark of a slave."

At that revelation, panic hit her full force and Elizabeth did back away from him. Restraints were one thing, but a permanent metal collar? All too soon, she backed into the rear wall of her cell. Elos stopped advancing on her and said very calmly, "Give me your wrists."

Elizabeth's mind worked furiously to come up with a way out of this, but she could find none. She closed her eyes for a moment, steeling herself, then held out her arms for the second time during this nightmare. She felt the cool metal lock around her wrists and looked down to see about three inches of metal chain between her hands. An instant later, her bare ankles were locked together with about a foot of chain between them.

Finally, Elos reached for the collar. Elizabeth fought to keep her defenses from crumbling as he positioned it around her neck. She heard it click into place, and it echoed ominously through the small room.

Blinking furiously to clear her vision, she looked Elos straight in the eye. Once again, she saw sympathy in his gaze for just a moment, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Without another word, he retrieved his pack and walked out the door, locking it behind him.

Elizabeth sank down in a corner and brought her shaking hands up to finger the metal ring around her neck. Leaning her head against the rear wall of the cell, she wrapped her arms around her knees and tried to keep the threatening tears at bay.

John would come soon. He had to.