Many days later I was summoned to the Chamber. It was the seat of commerce in Master's fortified estate. It was where he conducted all his public business. I had only ever been to the Chamber a handful of times in my life. But, even so, as I went along, I felt no unease at being summoned to such a place.

His public business dealings were nothing to do with me. I could not affect them in any way. I suspected that I had only been called to meet Master there before he took me to the infirmary where I was sure someone was waiting to be healed. There had been several scheduled matches in the Auk the evening before. It was likely that one of his prized Dagaas was in need of more care than the head physician, Isidore, could provide.

But I was wrong about this. Vitally wrong. This public business had everything to do with me that day and I would sorely regret it the rest of my life. I had no inkling that I was about to walk straight into the lion's mouth - forget the den.

The servant who fetched me, a rather regal but elderly man with a head of thick white hair, watery brown eyes, and a heavily wrinkled face, wrapped lightly on the door and waited for someone inside to open it. That was the custom there in the Chamber. The door was opened momentarily by a sentry.  The servant stepped confidently through the door and I followed close behind.

Master sat in his finest robes on an elevated dais, which was situated at the far end of the room. The room was filled with people of all walks of life. They sat or stood to the right or the left of a long isle leading to the dais. All of them were waiting for an audience before Master. Not all would get to appeal to him though. Some would go home disappointed and have to return another day and hope to be seen.  Business was sometimes a slow and grueling thing.

Currently, a tall, thin and elegant woman, who was clearly born to wealth and privilege by her bearing, was standing to the left of the dais and looking directly at myself and the servant who was bringing me in. Trying to be discreet, I took a quick look at her from under my lashes as we neared the dais. She had sharp, calculating eyes. Greedy eyes. Eyes like the vultures I saw occasionally depicted in a picture book or from a painting on one of the walls in Master's estate. I knew instinctively that something was about to change. I could not tell if I was in trouble or not, but I felt the woman was trouble.

The servant ahead of me did not stop until we were standing a few feet from the woman and directly in front of the dais. My escort bowed to Master and so did I. I remained bowed a moment longer than the servant, as was customary.

I was shocked to hear the woman speak to the Master concerning me saying, "She is dutiful and well mannered, Goren. I thought she was a handful?" I heard her laugh lightly at her joke.

Her voice was soft and musical. Deceptively enchanting, I thought with a little imperceptible shiver. My heart sank and my stomach began to churn uncomfortably. Something was wrong. I just didn't know what.

As I righted myself the woman came over to me and she circled me like a vulture does its prey. I kept my composure and put on an indifferent face, as if I was summoned all the time to be examined. I also kept my eyes focused on the steps of the Dais.

I wanted to look at Master. I wanted to gauge his thoughts. I wanted to know why I was summoned and why this woman was so interested in me, but I didn't dare look at him among this crowd. Slaves were not allowed such liberties and while Master permitted me all kinds of allowances when we were walking to and fro through his estate, he would not look kindly on me now, in front of his peers.

The woman slowly reached out, perhaps so as not to frighten me, and touched my long, black hair, which was long overdue for a wash. She let out a dissatisfied and unladylike snort. I did not respond. Freeborns were often displeased with the appearances of slaves. We were not much to look at.

The inspection continued though and my anxiety grew. Her hand drifted to my should and from there it slid down my arm. She gripped my arm repeatedly in different places as if examining the tenderness or meatiness of her meal. Finally, her hand settled on grabbing hold of my hand, which she turned over and examined with interest.

I couldn't remember the last time anyone looked me over so carefully. It was the sort of thing a potential buyer did. I may not have been there when my mother was sold off but I had since witnessed a number of slaves being sold in the yard. Her examination was reminiscent of those times. My throat felt parched quite suddenly and I tried to swallow to alleviate the dryness. However, it turned out my mouth was as dry as sand.

I had an inkling what was wrong now. Was it my turn to be sold to the highest bidder? Was this intimidating woman to be my new master?

I and the girls in my room had discussed numerous times the unlikeliness that Master would ever part with me. I was too profitable the girls would say. Profitable, yes, but not priceless. Master valued profit above all else. If this woman quoted him a price he could not refuse, well, there was a chance that I would be carted off that very morning to some unknown place.

The very thought was terrifying. I had never been outside the walls of this estate in my life. The world outside was not inviting but frightening. Especially, if it meant I had to go with this woman. There was something very dangerous about her. Something that made my skin crawl and filled my mind with unease.

I was jerked from my thoughts suddenly by the sound of the woman's musical voice. She was saying, "I want a live demonstration Goren."

I blinked feeling momentarily confused. What was a live demonstration? I watched Master give her a nod and then felt her release my hand. I spared her a quick look. She look delighted and a little triumphant.

She beckoned over the servant who had escorted me in. He'd been standing near the wall on the left-hand side of the room waiting for further instructions. When he saw her call him over he made his way quickly to her. I saw he was not afraid. His face was serene. Well, it was blank of emotion at the very least.

However, I felt increasingly apprehensive. What sort of demonstration was this woman asking for? I was terrified to go where my thoughts were leading. I sent an anxious look to Master, but he was watching the woman and ignoring me entirely.

I looked back at the vulturous woman and was astonished when she produced a dagger from her bodice. It looked ornamental at a glance. Quite harmless. More like an accessory than a proper weapon. That was until she plunged it into the old servant's chest without warning. The blade of her ornate dagger sank to the hilt.

The servant let out a startled cry of pain and panic. He wrenched his arm from her grasp and jumped back wildly, knocking me and him down at the same time. I sat frozen in terror even as he scrambled to his feet, clutching his chest and trying to get as far away from this mad woman as possible. She had to be mad, and, for that matter, Master had to be mad too to allow this! This was murder, or would be, if someone did not stop her.  

One of her attendants, a very large and muscular man, seized the escaping servant and brought him back to the psychotic woman. The attendant made the man - a free man at that - get on his knees before her. The woman stepped forward, grabbed the servant by the white hairs of his head, yanked his head back and without batting an eye sliced his throat wide open. I had never seen anyone murdered before. I sat, on the cold stone floor, immobilized by sheer disbelief. This had to be some kind of nightmare!

My world was spinning. Since when was it permissible to murder a man - a free man? How could Master let this happen?

The aged servant was not a slave like me. My life was not my own. Master could do as he willed with me, with my life. He could take it at any time and no law in the land would charge him with murder. But, this woman, she had just stabbed the chest and sliced the throat of a free-born. It was a horrendous crime and yet Master did nothing to stop her.

The crowd behind me was as shocked as I was though. Many rose to their feet and shouted at the woman in outrage. I heard some scream and cry out in horror. I was relieved that someone cared, but was shocked that the Master did not. This was his own servant after all.

I felt sick. I felt cold. I felt clammy. I couldn't hear well. My vision was dimming.

The next thing I knew someone was shaking me and commanding me, "Dhuuni, heal him!"

I blinked away the tears that had formed in my eyes. I was lying on the floor looking up at the ceiling feeling lightheaded and very disorientated. Then, I heard someone command me again saying, "Heal him!"

It was a woman's voice - that woman's voice. I sat up slowly and turned shocked eyes on her. Was this the demonstration she wanted to see? Did she take his life only to see me heal it? I felt nauseous and covered my mouth with one trembling hand as I scrambled to my knees and tried to reach him before he bled out.

I felt so ill I was almost faint. And, I couldn't stop my body from quaking. This woman was vile. She had no respect for life. I felt repulsed by her and terrified of her. What manner of person would kill another just to see if a Dhuuni had the power to heal them? It was too disturbing for me to comprehend.

I was relieved to still feel the servant's life force as I crawled though the growing pool of his life's blood. It was faint - just a whisper, but it was there. I reached out trembling hands and willed myself to be calm. It was so hard to heal another when my heart was in turmoil. The best chance for this servant was if I could anchor my thoughts and find a measure of quietness in my mind.

A great hush fell over the entire room and this aided me greatly. Quiet was a powerful ally when trying to find my equilibrium. I laid my hands on his flesh and reached out to stem the flow of his life force. The gift bubbled and grew hot. I felt it expand until it spilled down my arms and out my fingers. It sank into his body and plugged up all the places where his life force was likely to escape - his chest, his neck and his mouth. His body hummed. His life-force was reviving. The more quickly I worked to heal up his wounds, the stronger the humming became.

The servant groaned and the whole room gasped as one. I could have cried for joy, but I was working madly to restore as much life to him as possible.

The woman knelt down, careful to steer clear of the sticky pool of blood he and I were both in, and examined my handy work as I continued to pour life into him.

I closed my eyes to block her out, and then reached out into the press of people here in the Chamber with my mind. I drew on their collective life force to heal and restore the servant. I was too shattered to do it on my own and none of them would notice the loss. They would perhaps feel a little faint or a bit winded, but they would certainly attribute it to what they saw. No one would ever realize I had purposely siphoned energy from their collective life force to save this dying man.

The servant's eyes fluttered open and he looked up at me for a brief moment. His eyes were full of wonder and awe. Then he looked to the woman who had stabbed him and his eyes were filled with terror. He scrambled away from her, through the thick, sticky muck of his own blood.

"What have you done?" He cried out in dismay.

The noise level in the room immediately began to rise. The crowd was restless. They too were shocked and astonished by the woman's brazenness and demanded to know what was going on. I, on the other hand, remained as I was, on my knees, soaked in blood and trembling from head to toe uncontrollably. I was not exhausted from my efforts to heal the servant because I had drawn on the collective life force of the room, but I was in shock.

What had Master done? Why would he allow such a terrible thing to occur. I was so ashamed of him that I could not bring myself to look on him at all - not even while the room was in an uproar and no one would be the wiser. I just couldn't do it. He suddenly, for the first time in my life, truly repulsed me.

That musical voice spoke again, cutting clear through the haze and fog of my muddled mind. I heard her say to master, "That was an exciting demonstration Goren. She is as you say. I am well pleased. The price is agreed. I will pay in full."

I gasped aloud and brought my blood stained fingers, which were cold as ice, to my lips. Master had done the unthinkable. He'd sold me to a mad woman! I wrenched my head up to look at him. I wanted to see the truth for myself. He wouldn't look at me. He just gave a subtle nod of his head to the woman. The deal was done.

She looked down at me, hardly tipping her head, and said in her sing-song voice, "I am Bangkai. I am your Master now, Dhuuni."