The chains ground against the post as he strained. Hooded, he could not see the crowds swarming, the interested glances. But he could hear the murmur. The buzz of the market wasn't new to him. He had been captured and sold over and again.
He had been named Mancipium- a cruel joke by his father, his mother's master. "Just call him slave!" he demanded. At least he allowed it in Latin. It gave an intelligent edge to what was a largely unintelligent beast. And a beast he was.
Standing at 6'3", with a rough, dark beard and long dark hair falling down across his strong, muscular chest. When he worked, he carried out the work of 5 men. But his strength had it's drawbacks. The necessary extra thick chains cut into his wrists because of their size, and his back was heavily scarred with the severity of the whip. But that was what it took to control him.
"10 pieces of Gold, and I'll throw in the chains" cried the auctioneer. An extra low price for a troublesome slave. "Don't fear, a harsh crack of the whip will make this animal obey".
Mancipium relaxed. There was nothing he could do. Just wait to be sold. Again...