Someone took hold of my arm and pulled me to my feet before escorting me out a side door to the left of the dais. I never looked to see who had hold of my arm. I never looked back at my old master. I never looked anywhere or at anyone. I couldn't have seen a thing or a face even if I had looked. My eyes were brimming with tears and I was concentrating very hard on blinking them back.

My heart was breaking all over again. I knew, deep down, this day may come. I knew I might be sold to anyone beyond the walls of Goren the Grumbler's estate. But, I had lived here for 16 years and I had foolishly thought I might live here forever with the other girls in my room, with the familiar servants who came and went freely, with Goren, who had treated me well despite selling my mother to some other slave owner when I was just ten. 

Of course, I was very attached to this place. It had been the only home I had ever known. But, what truly broke my heart was the thought that if my mother ever made it back here, she wouldn't find me waiting for her. Secretly, I had harboured a deep hope that someday she would find her way back. I daydreamed that her current master was a benevolent master and might release her from her bonds. I dreamt at night, over and over again, of our happy reunion. But it was all just a silly little girl's fancies.

I should have known things would not continue on as they were. I felt the crushing weight of this change - a change I should have prepared myself for long ago like all the other slave-born had. Why would my destiny be any different than theirs? Who was I to hope for more?  What a fool I had been. My mother would be ashamed of me and rightly so.

I hung my head. I felt despondent.

Not long after leaving the Chamber, I was brought before several beautifully attired slave women, who were strangers to me. They stood by the open baths here on Goren's estate with soaps, oils and brushes at the ready. These strangers, with their lovely but wooden faces, took me into their hands quietly - serenely, and they gently stripped me of the blood-soaked rags I wore.

They guided me into the bath, some following behind me and scrubbing me clean. They worked my skin and my hair until my flesh was tender to the touch and my scalp felt raw. One of them pulled me from the bath and dried me while another wrapped my waist-ling hair up to help it dry. Someone else sat me in a shaded place by the baths and the woman begun to work oils into my skin. I watched with fascination. I had never been either so clean or so pampered.

But, at what price!

After the oils dried on my skin they dressed me in the same beautiful garments they wore. The material was light and silky soft. The colours of the dyed cloth were the most brilliant I had ever seen. I stared at the cloth in awe and rubbed it on my cheek repeatedly.

Someone sat me down a second time and another unwound my hair so that it could be brushed out, oils rubbed into it and then intricately braided. I could not remember the last time someone else brushed my hair. The feeling was soothing. The shade was soothing. The quietness of the open bath was soothing.

I began to cry.

The women, who hadn't uttered a single word to me or each other since I was placed in their care, began to coo as they diligent worked on my hair. It was such an unexpected and sympathetic gesture.

I felt moved and cried all the harder.

My tears came to an end though when they stood me up one last time, pulled my hair away from my neck, and snapped a slave collar around it. I had never worn a slave collar before. I never had to because I never once left Goren's estate. It was strange to be wearing one now after all these years.

It was also a wonder to me that with just one decisive click of a thick band of silver around my neck, my old life was dead and my new was life just beginning.

I reached up and touched the cold piece of hardware. I then raised my eyes and looked at the women standing nearest me. They all had the same collars on. It was customary for slaves, who ventured beyond their master's estate, to wear some kind of collar. The collars were identifiers. They marked the bearer as a slave and, in many cases, whose slave. This thick silver band, which all the women around me wore, was the calling card of my new master, Bangkai.

The bands were elegant and beautiful, but their purpose was neither. I let my hands fall to my sides as I tried to ignore the strange new pressure on my neck. The collar reminded me of Master Bagnkai - beautiful but deceptive. 

A man dressed in fine clothes, but also wearing a similar collar, came to collect us. Not a word was spoken. Everyone seemed to know the routine. I followed the women's lead. I mimicked their movements and copied their behaviour as best I could. A casual observer wouldn't be able to tell that I had only just entered their ranks.

Blending - that is what slaves were taught to do. I could blend. Of course, I didn't know for how long, but I could blend and disappear among these brightly dressed slaves for the time being. At least while my heart was being ripped in two by the thought of leaving. There was comfort in blending, in disappearing, when my heart was battered.

Still, ever hopeful and not ready to give up just yet, I looked around the courtyard for a familiar face. I was not looking for Goren but I was hoping to see a servant I knew. Someone I could speak with. Someone I could leave a message with. I wanted someone to break the news to the girls in my room that I had been sold. And, I wanted someone to tell my mother, if ever she returned, where I had gone.

It was a foolish hope on my part. I never saw one face I knew before we were corralled into an elegant motorized carriage.  As I took a seat, I realized I was not going to get a chance to say farewell to anyone.  None of the girls would know I was gone or why or where. My heart constricted tightly, painfully. I was going to miss them desperately. They were like family. I loved them almost as much as I loved my mother.

The carriage rolled forward and we were leaving my old life behind. I blinked back tears and tried to take a few calming breaths. One of the other slave women pressed her shoulder into mine in what I can only guess was a show of support or sympathy. It was hard to know because when I looked at her she was looking straight ahead with that wooden expression all the women here wore. Not feeling it would be unwelcome or inadvisable, I leaned a little into her shoulder in response. I would take what comfort I could get.

The formidable gates of Goren's estate gave way and our carriage passed through them. I held myself very tensely at that exact moment. No one came running toward us crying out for the carriage to stop. There was no gaggle of girls running through the yard calling my name and crying for me. I was slipping through Goren's gate and not a soul was going to stop this from happening.

When we passed all the way through and I could see the gate closing behind us I let out a breath - a breath I had been holding a long while.  It was over. I no longer was his. His estate was no longer my home. I was the property of Master Bangkai - a woman who would slit a man's throat in cold blood to see whether a Dhuuni could heal him or not.

Despite our quiet and calm exit from my former life, I now found myself swallowing nervously. I shuddered to think what my life would be like in Master Bangkai's hands.

The White City, which I had dreamt of traveling through all my life, passed me by unseen. Though it was bright daylight and I was free to look out the windows in the carriage, I saw none of it. Instead, I found myself replaying, over and over again, the horrific scene from that  morning in the Chamber.

Master Bangkai's eyes, when she plunged the dagger into the servant's chest, had been bright with excitement, expectation and blood-lust. That look in her eyes terrified me. My Master was a vile creature. What hope did I have that my life as a healer would be as simple and straightforward as it had been under Goren. I had a sickening notion, in the pit of my stomach, that all I would know under this woman was cruelty, pain and unimaginable horrors. I was not in the least bit sure I could rise above whatever torments awaited me in my new life.

I felt terrified.