Clip, clop, clip, clop.  The regular, wooden sound of Lady's hooves smacking against the well-packed dirt path nearly lulled Brand into a doze as he followed the track back to the clearing where he had made camp for the night.   There, concealed beneath a copse of lush peach trees he had stashed his wagon.  Well, he called it a wagon, but it was really more of a jumped-up cart, a small vehicular conveyance which could be tethered to the stately male and hauled.  In it were the tools of his trade: manacles, metal restraints made for binding wrist or ankle; torn, ragged cloths, recycled through more captives than he could remember, torn and threadbare, barely enough to give them a modicum of modesty (and, of course, he could use them as gags, in a pinch); a box containing potions and vials, used to chemically pacify his slaves; a make-up kit, with paints and blush (after all, as a businessman, Brand knew the value of making his merchandise more presentable, and thus, more likely to fetch a higher price); and rope, coils and coils of rope.  There were weapons there, too, bows and knives and swords and whips and floggers, some of which were used for self-defense, others for punishment.<br/><br/>When Lady reached the clearing, she snorted and tossed her head; Brand slid off, running his fingers through her mane, stroking her neck.  He rummaged around in the back of the wagon for a moment and returned with a carrot and a bag of oats.  He fed the carrot to the horse and then put the bag on the ground, stepping aside so she could investigate.  "Good girl," he said, patting the horse's flank appreciatively.  "Good girl."<br/><br/>That done, he set about untying the girl lying crosswise behind the saddle.  Her wrists were bound together with rope behind her back, her legs similarly tied together.  A cloth had been stuffed in her mouth, a rag tied around that to muffle her cries and screams.  Completely unconcerned, Brand hoisted the struggling bundle off of Lady and lay her, none too gently, upon the grassy ground.<br/><br/>The light was better here than in the grove where he had caught her, his trap holding her suspended and flailing in the air until he had come along and cut her down.  He always liked to make a cursory inspection of the girls he caught, for he knew that Cormac preferred his slaves healthy and unblemished.  Pushing her over onto her back with his booted foot, he knelt and examined her body.  Before he had bound her, he had stripped away all of her clothing, so that she was completely naked within the constraints of the rope.<br/><br/>Ignoring the fury mixed with pleading in her eyes, he looked her over, his fingers examining her by touch, traipsing over her neck, her stomach, her thighs.  He combed through her auburn hair, (both on her head and otherwise) and palpitated her breasts, squeezing them like a farmer might squeeze a melon for ripeness.  Kicking her over, he similarly examined her backside as well.  The red marks from his switch were fading on her bottom, the result of a failed escape attempt.<br/><br/>Yes, this one should fetch a good price.  She was young, healthy, and very pretty.  A bit pale by Brand's standards, but then, he wasn't doing this for himself.<br/><br/>He stood up, returning to the wagon, rummaging around once more through its contents.  This time he returned with a small leather bag, which turned out to contain a small vial.  Very carefully, he uncorked the vial, upending it just enough to spill a single drop upon Briallen's pelvis.  He watched with interest as the clear liquid splattered on her bare skin.  After a moment, it began to glitter with a silver sheen.<br/><br/>Brand smiled to himself, re-stoppering the vial and tucking it back into the pouch.  The Kinroot Extract test meant that she was a virgin; if not, it would have turned blood red.   And, as Brand knew, Cormac paid much higher bounties for virgins.<br/><br/>Hauling her to her feet, he heaved her over his shoulder and set her down in the wagon.  He spidered over her, tying her down with yet more restraints, so that she wouldn't wriggle out of the cart somehow.  Lady looked up from her supper, still chewing, and whinnied.<br/><br/>"Yes, girl," he said, although whether he was addressing horse or captive was unclear.  "This one will fetch us a fair amount.  A fair amount, indeed."