When brought front and center, she looked down—naked, ashamed, and frightened—unable to face the crowd of men about to bid on her. Behind her, other women huddled in the shadows of the stone wall, their eyes hollow with the same dread, awaiting their own fate.

Not understanding the language of the auctioneer as he gestured wildly to the crowd, Lḗask did not know the value being placed on her. Every shout from the bidders, every coin-purse weighed in a hand, increased the price for which she would be sold, while lowering her self-worth.

Oh, how she wished she had been slaughtered like her family and most of her village when it was sacked and pillaged. She would rather have been run through with a sword than face the uncertain future of a slave in a foreign land. Her fair skin and virginity made her a valued prize in the eyes of the bidders.

Lḗask didn’t look up even when the bidding stopped and the gavel came down, not wanting to see the face of the man to whom she now belonged. Unshackled, she allowed herself to be led away like a sheep by its master, without a struggle, resigned to her fate and the fact that her life and future were no longer her own.

It wasn’t until she felt a cloak draped around her shoulders to cover her nakedness that she dared look into the face of the man who had bought her. It wasn’t the face of a harsh taskmaster but that of a kind face of a loving father.

Philon Had only been passing through the plaza, not intending to purchase a slave. When he saw Lḗask being auction off to the highest bidder, she reminded him of his recently deceased daughter and only child and felt compelled to intervene. Undeterred by being outbid, he continued to bid until the gavel came down in his favor.

Philon took her home to his wife and rather than treating her like a slave, they granted Lḗask her freedom and she became their daughter.