Chapter 87: Mother and Daughters

"They's been transferred," the girl said with a smile. "I ain' gonna miss 'em neither."

"Who?" I asked, "who's been transferred?"

"The bloody regiment," the girl said with an exasperated tone, almost ready to give up on my flabby member which was all right with me since we had been at it hard and heavy for nearly an hour.

"Are they now?" I said. "Who'll be coming in?"

"Don' know," she said, slapping the limp thing and rolling out of bed, giving me a good look at her lean frame. "But I hear they's havin' a sale, selling some a'the things they stole."

I pulled up my britches and drawers, emptied if not satisfied. "Anything interesting?"

"Might be," she said, "but mostly stuff they got no use for, can' take wif 'em."

I nodded and got into my old boots.

"Oh," the girl said, smoothing down her worn dress over her wide hips, "they got three women they's selling, too."

"Women?"

She nodded and grinned at me. "La-de-da ladies they was."

"Who are they?" I asked, grabbing her wrist.

"Just women. They took over some houses, and they was in one of them. Think the oldest's ones man's in your army, officer I hear tell."

"And they're selling them?"

She nodded and slipped away. I found out where the regiment was holding its sale and wandered over to the edge of the town where a substantial, two-storey house stood. A small crowd had gathered, mostly Redcoats of various stripes, men from other regiments looking for stuff they could use in their mess.

I stood back under some shade and watched the auctioneer, a big sergeant, get rid of some heavy furniture and several iron pots. Then he yelled, "Bring them missus up 'ere," and a woman stepped up beside him, her hands tied before her, her face a mask of shame and disgust.

"This 'ere's that rebel major's doxey, Major Shit-head Audrey I believe, one a'Knox's staff ain' it?" The sergeant looked to the side and shrugged. "Anyways, we been using 'er off an' on, an' they won' let us take 'er wif us, so you kin 'ave 'er. She's good an' strong, kin do three men an hour wifout breakin' a sweat. But she do drink some, gin mostly, t'keep 'er goin'." He patted the woman's buttocks roughly, but the sad expression on her face did not change.

"Give y'two bob," cried someone in the crowd and several men laughed.

"Can she cook?" someone yelled.

The bidding went on in a desultory way, and the woman was delivered to a officer from a regiment of foot who tied her to the wheel of a wagon after squeezing her breast until she yelped in pain. I did not hear what he paid for her, but I marked him closely, sure I would remember him if I saw him again.

"Now, here's one a'er git," the sergeant said, pulling a small, light-haired girl up beside him. "She's only jus' ripening I fear. Ye'd 'ave to slice 'er open t'use 'er, but she's learned to suck cocks, she 'as."

Tears ran down the slight girl's face. She looked to be twelve or thirteen, barely nubile, but a pretty little thing, and I could see the look of her mother in her.

"Ripe eno'," someone said loudly. "Give y' a crown for her."

She quickly sold for two pounds and six pence to a fat artillery noncom who immediately hauled her off into the woods as he unbuttoned his codpiece. I saw him force the girl to kneel and did not have to see more.

"Here's t'other one," the auctioning sergeant cried happily, pulling a lovely girl up beside him and kissing her on the mouth with his hand behind her head. Her hands were tied behind her and her young body was clearly defined by the breeze on her dirty shift. She was a very well-made young woman of perhaps eighteen or twenty.

"This 'ere's the prize," the sergeant said. "I 'ad 'er many times m'sef, an' she's as good as any quail on this foul shore."

The men shuffled closer and made some grumbling sounds.

"We's taught 'er least ten ways t'do it, an' she's docile enough if ye but flicks 'er now and again w'a quirt or some such. Ain' that right, girl?" He pulled her hair and raised her chin. She closed her eyes.

"Don' look like there's much left of her," said one of the bidders.

"She's plumb wore out," said another. "Splavined."

There were dark circles under her eyes and her shoulders slumped. The name 'Audrey' finally popped up in my memory. I knew her father, and he was a good man.

"Now lookee," the sergeant said, grabbing the girl's shift between her small breasts and yanking it down. The garment tore from one shoulder and then hung from her other elbow as she tried to cover her privates with her bruised thighs, bending at the waist. "Stan' up," the seller demanded, yanking her hair again, "put yer feet apart and show 'em yer nice lil'cunny."

The same tall officer who had bought the mother got the daughter for five pounds and some, and about the time he led her off with her arm twisted up behind her back now that her hands were free, the fat man with the little girl came out of the woods, looking quite pleased.

The sale was over and the crowd split up. I asked a few questions and found out that the officer who bought the two older women was stationed only a few miles away. I watched him go off to a nearby inn, leaving his two captives tied to the back of his rig, heads bowed, not looking at each other and ignoring the casual gropes they received from passing menfolk. I knew I had to try to do something. I mounted up and followed the artillery man who had hoisted the young girl to the saddle before him and was pawing her as he rode. When we got a ways down the quiet lane, I trotted up beside him.

"She any good?" I asked, trying to sound pleasant.

"Not bad," he said. "I'll let 'er do ye for two shillings."

"No thanks," I said, looking about to be sure we could not be seen. I reached over, grabbed the man by the collar and lifted him out of the saddle. I suspect he weighed about two hundred, but he went right back over the horse's tail and before he bounced, I was on him, kicked him in the temple and then cut his throat, took his purse and pushed his fat corpse into the roadside ditch, all in a few seconds.

Then I cut the girl's hands loose and asked her name.

She licked her lips and looked down at the dead man. "Glory," she said very quietly.

"Nice name," I said and introduced myself. " Knew a girl called that. I want to try to get your sister and mother free. I know your father."

She just nodded as I adjusted her stirrups.

"You hungry?"

She nodded again, and then followed me to a tavern where I was known. She ate ravenously and silently while I thought about my alternatives. If I went back and got help, the women might disappear into the British army's many whorehouses or that regiment might suddenly get orders, but if I acted alone and perhaps with Glory's help, I had a chance to get at them before they suffered much more.