Free Desert Rogue by ERIN YORKE Page B

replied.
    â€œAnd you came here to sell a slave?” inquired a third slaver, assessing the man tethered at the end of the rope.
    â€œIt is said that such a task is easier to accomplish and much more rewarding in Khartoum than in Egypt,” the newcomer said, his expression daring the others to contradict him, “especially when the slave is white.”
    â€œStill, for a man living in a land ruled by Europeans rather than the khedive, who possesses a title and little else, selling a Caucasian is an audacious undertaking,” Zobeir stated quietly.
    â€œNot as bold as the crime this jackal has committed,” Ali asserted, his face set in hard lines as he forced Jed to his knees and struck him harshly.
    Son of a bitch! I owe you one, Jed thought savagely, resenting the need to cower under Ali’s blow.
    â€œAnd that crime was?” Zobeir inquired politely.
    â€œHe approached my wife,” Ali announced through clenched teeth, telling the tale Jed had concocted. “I vowed before Allah that this heap of camel dung would pay for his transgression. Death is too easy for him. I would rather he know misery for years to come. Besides, I like the idea of filling my purse at his expense. Now, is there to be an auction or must I seek a buyer on my own?”
    â€œThere will be a private auction tomorrow. But I doubt you will get much for him. He looks rather submissive for so large and well muscled a man,” Zobeir said, his glittering eyes raking Jed’s huddled form speculatively.
    â€œHe has learned to be,” Ali stated grimly. “Still, he is strong and can do much work.”
    â€œHis back is well scarred, then?” asked Zobeir. His voice was dispassionate, but he continued to scrutinize Jed’s broad shoulders and slender hips with an intensity that made the American uneasy.
    â€œNot at all,” Ali assured, knowing a lie would be uncovered. “I am wise enough to know that someone might want to buy him for reasons other than his capacity for labor. There are many ways to discipline a man, and this slave is practically flawless.”
    A stunned Jed listened to the exchange, straining to remain silent as Ali deviated from the script he had worked out for him.
    â€œI might be interested in buying this slave for myself,” Zobeir said, salacious interest fleeting across his face for an instant. “And I will give you a fair price, too.”
    â€œLet us see what offers I receive tomorrow,” Ali replied smoothly, causing Jed to breathe a furtive sigh of relief.
    â€œBut what can you hope to get for him? You know he has no spirit,” the obese slave merchant argued.
    â€œTrue, yet it could be that someone might want a man of size and meek temperament to stand guard over a harem.”
    Jed’s eyes, hidden as he rested his head on his arms in an attempt to look dejected, popped open. What the hell was Ali doing? If his improvising didn’t stop, there would be an explosion in the marketplace that needed no match.
    â€œIt might be so, but wouldn’t alterations have to be made?” Zobeir asked with a wicked chuckle and a glance at Jed’s crotch.
    â€œFrom what I have seen they would be very minor alterations,” Ali replied with a smirk, ignoring the look of disappointment that crossed Zobeir’s pudgy face.
    That carrion-eating bastard was going to be dead when they got out of here, Jed raged inwardly, calling on all of his inner resources not to wrap his fingers around Ali’s lying throat.
    â€œI see,” Zobeir said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, wondering if the Egyptian was telling the truth or merely bragging about his own endowment. “In that case, why don’t you take him into the pens and put him with the others to be sold tomorrow? Perhaps later I will inspect him and either make an offer or else advise you as to what you can expect to get for him. Tell the guards Zobeir sent you, and get a receipt