Chapter 4: Halls of Valhalla

The stormy weather that has disrupted travel doesn’t seem to have finished unleashing its wrath. The periodic spells of wind and heavy rain make sleeping outside very unattractive, especially if there are better options available. Consequently there is a greater demand than usual for Wadi Halaf’s indoor facilities. Each of the usually parsimonious caravan masters is willing to pay for the luxury of a guest room for himself, and bunks in the barracks for his men.

Apparently the aldermen haven’t requisitioned the male slaves in transit. Whether that is an oversight or a lack of authority to take them is hard to know. Either way, there are fourteen male slaves in need of accommodation. At first, the two caravans transporting slaves have the poor wretches sleeping under hastily raised canvas awnings in the west yard. A severe gust of wind demolishes the awnings in a matter of seconds. After that the masters see sense and pay for the use of cells in Wadi Halaf’s dungeon. Even so, they reduce their costs by filling each hired cell to twice its normal capacity.

Feeding so many visitors and their animals is going to stretch our supplies to the limit. I send Aren into the city to secure more supplies, but he returns with only half of what I asked him to buy. The market is still open, but the local farmers haven’t been able to transport their produce into the city. We have enough food for all the people at Wadi Halaf, but fodder for the animals is in short supply. Fortunately Aren has a contact at the local garrison who can arrange for some of the garrison’s animal feed to find its way to Wadi Halaf.

I promised Zoe that I would make time to visit the Halls of Valhalla. My mission to find additional help to service Wadi Halaf’s guests adds an additional purpose to my trip. It’s late afternoon before I decide that I’ve an hour or two I can spare to pay a visit to the Halls. Aren insists that I take one of the guards with me now that I’m dressed as a respectable citizen. There’s a risk of unrest in the city during the ongoing upheaval caused by the storm. An unescorted lady travelling alone might attract unwelcome attention, whereas a slave wouldn’t warrant a second look.

Unfortunately none of the guards can be spared. The male slaves who normally supplement the Wadi Halaf guards at busy times have been taken by the city aldermen to help repair the roads. The remaining guards protecting Wadi Halaf and its visitors cannot be spread any thinner. I solve the problem by removing my robe and putting on a gauzy muslin wrap around my tits, and don my cleanest loin cloth. It’s not much more more than a slave would wear, but it’s a good enough compromise to preserve some sense of dignity while enabling me to travel the streets unmolested.

While the heavy rain has given way to lighter showers, the people on the streets are still too busy keeping themselves dry to bother about me. The normally compacted smooth streets have been churned into mud, and it takes me longer than usual to reach the Halls of Valhalla.

“Sai!” cries Amina in her native language when she sees me enter the Halls of Valhalla.

Amina gives me a hug that in other circumstances would be very inappropriate between a slave and her owner. However Amina and I have grown close over the last two years ... not lovers, but more than simply friends. Her genuine show of affection, and her visible relief at my safe return, lifts my spirits and doesn’t earn her a rebuke. Zoe and Farai are equally emotional about my return. Hanna is also pleased to see me, but she is more respectful of my position as her owner. Given I need to return to Wadi Halaf soon, hopefully with some slaves for the entertainment, we don’t have very long to socialise. I give them a condensed version of my adventures in Bolnisi, while Zoe gives me a quick summary of how the Halls of Valhalla has been doing during my absence. Her success in managing the business confirms my confidence in her ability to do so.