<div align="center"><strong>Cariad and the exchange</strong></div><br/>The arid heat intense on the skin available to the onslaught. Her mahogany locks matted with the filth accrued on her exhausting journey from her home, a now fading memory of Wales. The lush green mountains such a contrast to the tan and browned roads and houses in the land of the blazing sun. Cariad tried desperately to stretch out her muscles but the shackles limited the effectiveness of the stretch. Shaking her head, Cariad looked up to where the cart she had been tied to had stopped. Her hazel eyes squinting in the searing heat and bright white rays of the sun, as she looked upon the villa before her.<br/><br/>"<em>Beth yw hwn? Lle y uffern ydw i? Rhowch wybod i mi, rwyf wedi marw mewn gwirionedd ac wedi mynd i'r duwiau!</em>" Instantly, she felt the leather tearing over her flesh.<br/><br/>"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU SLAVE, I hear you talking that filth again, I will beat it out of you!" Cariad gritted her teeth through the pain, breathing deeply, the towering man of muscles leant over her and hissed in her ear.<br/>"What did you say?" The trap she had fallen into many a time before on her arduous journey.<br/><br/>"<em>What is this? Where the hell am I? Please tell me I have actually died and gone to the gods!! OK, that's what I said!</em>Her words short and hissed in return, which earned her another lashing from the whip across her back.<br/>"<em>Sorry Sir, I will not speak my mother tongue</em>." Cariad hung her head and sighed as she felt his hand on her shoulder, pushing her towards the doors before them. The change over was done in silence. Watching as the money was exchanged for her life, words informing the person she now belonged to that should she speak in her mother tongue to issue a thrashing deservedly so, her heart sank. There would be no escape, not the hard way at least. If she wanted to leave this place, there would be tears, sweat and probably a good deal of blood shed before she did. Not having a clue as to how a slave was meant to behave, Cariad had done what she thought was most of her learning on the road. She was in for a further education.<br/><br/><br/><div align="center"><strong>Cariad meeting Autolycus</strong></div><br/>Marched through the grounds, her skin on the underside of her feet burning, her arms stiff from the weight of the chains. Before the journey, Cariad's body displayed all signs of wealth. Now, having trekked the continents to get to this point, her limbs had leaned down, partly due to the lack of food and the constant walking and beating. Her fair skin held traces of scarring, some silvery against the new browning of her bare skin, the others bleeding and fresh.<br/><br/>Standing outside the door, awaiting approval for entrance to the room, not knowing what to expect, or who to expect the other side of the door. Her woollen skirt and shirt now soaked with sweat, torn and covering her rounded breasts and rear, just. The voice the other side of the door got closer to her. Cariad drew a sharp intake of breath as the knock to the door was answered and it swung open. The audible gulp seemed to ring within her ears as her heart took up the competition to see who could be heard first.<br/>