Lexical illustration by LL.
Alas, the precise details of what happened to Ciri, Yen, Triss and Philippa from the second day of navigation, when an exhausted Cirilla was lifted back aboard after a night hanging from the ships' bow, and their arrival at the slave market in the capital of Ofir are unknown. The few documents surviving are vague and in abysmal condition, having suffered heavily from being exposed to the salty sea air and moisture. There is mention of several further vague brutalities, chief among which one of the women (Ciri? Yen? The sources are contradictory) almost losing her life while subjected to the severest of punishments at sea, a keelhauling. Exact details may surface (...) one day, when and if improvements in technology will make the correct handling of material exposed to water damage simpler and more reliable.
What's certain is that the foursome were disembarked in a small harbour, there sold to local slavers, who then in turn marched them to the inland capital, to make a great profit on their re-selling. The march through the desert took several weeks, and was intended also as a training camp to ensure the merchandise was both resilient and obedient. Synergy was a priority, for those capitalistic minded slavers.
And so the four women marched on, mostly at night, sometimes by day under the unforgiving sun. Always carrying a heavy wooden yoke, which was not taken off even at night. Many times the slavers took their pleasure with the prettiest slaves, and the pale skin of our heroines won them always first place among all. Some days the caravan made halt in special camps, so that the slavers could switch their camels for fresh ones, while the women were put to work turning wheels to grind grain or extract water, sometimes even to dig in mines. A very inefficient way to get the work done, as mules and oxen were available to do it faster, but a sure way to check if indeed they were ready to obey without complaints.
All four kept their tempers in check. Till a day when they halted at an oasis... After a long march over night, they were allowed to drink when, at dawn, they got to their destination. Of course, drinking while in yokes was not easy, and they had to assume demeaning poses while the guards laughed and argued which one had the best ass. One of them walked up, put his foot to Triss's not unremarkable derriere, and unceremoniously kicked her in the water. Unable to stand up due to the yoke and the position Triss was saved from drowning by the leader of the slavers who pulled her out. While he was scolding at the one who had kicked her for risking to compromise valuable merchandise, Triss, having recovered her breath, spun rapidly around and managed to hit the culprit on the side of his head with her yoke.
The captain had her restrained by two of his man, and said: "Now this we cannot have. I thought you all understood you were just objects. We cannot have an object rebelling to his owner. This idiot was about to cost us a profit, but your future owner may well order you to drown yourself, if he so pleases, and you would be wise to obey. But I see you learned nothing yet. No worries: as a reward for your behavior, your yoke will be removed and, since we will be staying in this oasis for a couple of days, we will make sure that you dry up well after your bath. Maybe, to drive the point home, we will give the same boon to your three friends".
