To let Serf the beaches of Wales

Robert, as one of the few wealthy Welsh engineers, had finally had the good fortune of accompanying one of his recent Gothic acquaintances to an auction-block to replace some lost assets from the war for a new stone castle the local baron insisted upon having, only to be slightly appalled to discover it was a slave-auction, with many of the bids quickly going out of his stippend...

The only way to get a sure-buy of anything useful for hauling stone seemed to be some dark corner-block. It was a cold wintery-day, so most of them were huddled densly by an open fire in the street with blankets of rags heaped over them for warmth and dignity. Ultimately, it mattered little who or what he had to work with, so long as they wre capable of moving and had a fair amount of meat on their bones...

So he paid his tidy sum and had the group shackled to his wagon loaded with what few accutements of the slaves were included in deal before heading north.

Godiva huddled together with the others in the cold. Cursing the Normans under her breathe. Her long dark red hair whipped around her face in the wind. She walked with the others through the snow.

OOC: sorry its short.

Robert's group had to soon stop for rest, as the wagon offered little protection against the cold howling wind, and the narrow muddy wagon-ruts made walking awkward at best for the procession of slaves. Even at a glance one could see one stumbling and tripping at any given time; it was a wonder how they made any progress at all this way.

The warm glow of the nearby tavern-inn's fireplace drew them to redouble their efforts for the promise of warmth, rest, and shelter; even if it would only be for long enough to get back underway.

As Robert paid the local barkeep for some warm liquid refreshments, there already was a commotion begining inside the main foyer.

Walking to see the commotion, he saw a large procession of women... possably from a caravan of pilgrims to Canturbary... but then he asked where his recent acquisitions were staying...

When he got his answer his jaw dropped in disbelief, over half of his purchase consisted of young women completely unsuited to the task of hard labor... One of the Normans from the dimly lit bar even congradulated him on such a 'find', clearly thinking he was in a different sort of business altogether.

As his hand raced through his ginger-brown hair, Robert schemed desprately to turn this cursed folly around. He could turn around and try selling them, but that would imply they were undesirable, and would be sold at a considerable loss -and he could barely even afford this lot- and word of his folly would spread, ruining his reputation. No, he must sell them in the Welsh countryside as an investment to raise funds for King William's further renovations upon the stone-keep in Cardiff.

Then a sight of a long-haired ginger beauty happened across the faint candle-light glow.

Sell every single one but her he thought to himself, as he ordered all the slaves a drink and a piece of bread to chew from one of the barmaids.

Godiva took the bread and drink eagerly. She was more then glad of the warmth of the inn and she drank the liquid quickly. It warmed her bones. She looked up and saw the man who bought her looking at her. She looked him back in the eyes for a moment before looking away. She didn't know if he planned on keeping them all himself or was sent to buy them. She assumed it was the latter however. She was however quite wary of what he wanted them for. She highly dou7beted anyone would be dumb enough to buy7 a large group of woman and girls on accident .

Robert let them finish their scant meal before ordering another round of spiced cider.

"So what do people call a pretty little thing like you by?" he asked while he personally gave a tankerd of cider to Godiva, ushering her to a more secluded area before some handlers could begin rounding-up the slaves for the next leg of the journey.

She looked at him confused by his treatment. "Godiva." She said softly her eyes meeting his for a second before she looked away. She took the cider eagerly and drank it down quickly as well. When she first came into the tavern she was almost completely pale by now however her cheeks had returned to a much rosier hue. She was slightly wary of his intentions towards her.

"Godiva..." Robert repeated, trying to see if he could remember the name... remembering the face wouldn't be a problem, "you look ill. Why don't you ride in the wagon with the supplies; out of the wind?" He suggested, while unshakling her from the marching procession of slaves.

She nodded slowly. She wasn't about to say no to any kindness but she knew the other girls would make her pay for it later. She rubbed her sore wrists. "Thank you master." She said, her head bowed.

"You may call me Robert" He permitted, as he swept her up into the wagon and set her amidst the straw-forage in the wagon -concealing her as much from view as from the wind.

Besides, it was a corner-lot purchase... Not even the merchant that sold them would notice if a slave was missing; as for the work-details: they were only women, one body short wasn't going to make a difference... trying to get work from any sized group of female slaves was like dividing by zero...

The rest of the journey was without pause, sitting upon the construction-site of the new castle was what remained of an old Roman fortress... well... the palisade, sraised commanding-hieghts... and a few knee-high walls of stone that were about as imposing as a man wearing a white linen cloth screaching 'Boo!'. Within those wrhithering structures sat the ramshackle makings of a town.

Godiva was more then glad not have had to work this last bit of the journey but now that it was over she was beginning to get nervous. She had no idea what Robert was planning and since he seemed to have taken a fancy to her she was sure if she wanted to. Not that she would be largely upset if he moved on her.

OOC: LOL i love blackadder never seen that one though.