The Far Kingdoms, page 29
Deoce delighted me with a glowing smile of approval that gave me as much pleasure as any feeling I have had in my life. She said: “Speaking as a woman who was almost a slave, and as a woman in Orissa I am all but a slave in every place except this house, I heartily agree. Our bold friend, Janos Greycloak, is an example of what a slave can achieve.”
“Freeing our own would be a small start,” I said. “We would have to be quiet about it at the start, for I fear a loud public announcement would raise so many passions that it would jeopardize the plan.”
“That is wise,” she said. “If we let it be known to a few at a time, and let that news go from trickle to torrent, it will have a greater effect.”
“The only trouble is my brothers,” I said. “For the Anteros must free all their slaves to make the point. There will be a great family fight.”
“Good. It will get their blood going. Your brothers need a shaking up. They’ve lived off your father’s and now your boldness far too long.”
My brothers did not take it well. The Antero family owned perhaps one hundred and fifty souls, most of whom were either very expensive household slaves; skilled dockside or farm laborers; or educated clerks and managers. By freeing them we would reduce the value of our family’s wealth by one fifth. My oldest brother, Porcemus, was the most opposed. He was twice my age and of all of us most closely resembled my father, but with weaker features. “Your plan is insane,” he said. “You will beggar us. Who will take the slaves’ places? Think of the wages, man! We simply cannot afford it.”
I said: “Money is not the question here. If a thing is right, then it should be done whatever the expense. However, if you insist...” I took a ledger from the stack before me. “Review the figures I have collected and you will see it is cheaper to employ a man than to enslave him. A free man pays for his own keep. And he works harder, because he can improve his lot, whereas a slave will always be a slave, so why should he trouble himself?” I opened the document and tapped a column of figures. “See, here, Porcemus. Your orchard production has remained at nearly the same level for fifteen years. Only once did it change, and that season showed an increase.” He looked at the figures, frowning. “This was the year when the fever laid all your slaves low,” I continued. “We had to hire freemen and women to do their work. And the harvest was greater, wasn’t it? There was also less spoil, because they worked faster and harder to earn more money.”
There were murmurs of surprise among my brothers. Porcemus, however, was stubborn as only a small-minded man can be. “You can’t make such a judgment examining only one season,” he said.
“I didn’t.” I pushed the stack of ledgers over for him to study if he wished. “I found many other instances where similar comparisons can be drawn. Over the years our profits are always greater when we pay a fair wage, instead of using a slave. To be fair, I did not include the trade our ships carry, although that is the bulk of our earnings. As you know, we rarely use slaves in the trading business... for the reasons I just gave. Even the least skilled trader knows there is no greater motive than profit.”
“I still say a demon has invaded you,” Porcemus said. “Why, if everyone freed their slaves, we would immediately double the number of citizens. Most of our people are already an ignorant and filthy lot. Now, we would have nearly thirty thousand more. Anarchy would reign. It would be the end of Orissa as we know it.” He angrily shoved the books back at me. “Hasn’t our family suffered enough? First, Halab... and now... you.”
I had expected an attack on myself; I was prepared for it and planned to be calm and reasonable. It was not strange that my brothers would be jealous one so young as myself had been handed over the leadership of our family. The attack on Halab caught me by surprise and I acted foolishly, slamming up from the table, the chair crashing to the floor. “If you were not of my blood,” I said, “I would kill you where you sit.”
Porcemus turned a ghastly white. My other brothers tried to calm me. But it was not their words that soothed me; it was the sight of Porcemus’s frightened face. I was strong in my anger, and I could feel the easy play of my muscles, which had been tempered and tuned for violence during my long journey. What a helpless lot, I thought. Then my anger fled. Ah, well, I thought again. They are a burden, but what of it? They were a burden to your father as well, and he trusted you to shoulder it when he handed over responsibility.
I sighed, picked up the chair and set it in place. “I am sorry for my anger, brother,” I said. “Now, I would like your agreement on my plan. To ease your pain, I propose to repay you the value of your slaves from my own pocket.” I turned to the others. “Will that suffice?” There were noises of acceptance all around. Porcemus became very friendly, hugged me and apologized and then they all left.
That is how I, Amalric Emilie Antero, became the first to free the slaves in Orissa. It was not a proud moment, for it all still was measured by greed, but at least it was done. I settled back and waited for the reaction. The first was most unexpected. It came from Tegry.
“What have you done?” he thundered.
I was taken aback; slaves do not speak that way to their owners. Then I remembered he was a slave no more. This would take much getting used to, especially with someone I disliked as much as Tegry, whom I had only kept on because of my father.
“Calm yourself, Tegry,” I said. “Explain my error, and I will do my best to correct it.”
“You... you... Freed me!”
I am sure my expression resembled a gaping fish. “What is wrong with that?” I sputtered. “I freed all of the slaves.”
Tegry’s eyes filled with hatred. “I have worked all my life to reach my present position,” he gritted. “And now it is gone. You have stolen my pride.”
“How did I do this? You still have your job, but at a salary. And you are still master of the affairs that were in your domain before.”
“I...I... defecate on your salary! I’ve stolen more in a day, as is my right, then you pay me in eight. As for my position, I now have no authority over the servants. No real authority. You have freed them, you fool. When I order them to work, they laugh in my face if they do not like my manner. Only this moment I took a whip to a stable hand and the bastard had the audacity to rip it from my hand. And then he... He quit. He left. There is no way I can order him back, because he no longer is required to obey.”
“You’ll just have to adopt an easier manner,” I answered. “If you are unhappy with your pay, why, I can raise it. But not eight times. That, Tegry is more theft than is your right. But I’ll double it, and we’ll let bygones be...”
“No you won’t,” Tegry shouted. “If I am free, then I will not work for such a man as yourself. I warned your father. But he wouldn’t listen. Very well, then, if a stable hand can do it... so can I. Lord Antero, I resign my position. I will be gone within the hour and you will be a sorry man you so abused me.” He turned on his heel and stalked out.
Although we did not announce my actions loudly, word spread quickly enough and there was much hot talk about that “crazy Antero” who freed his slaves. But soon others took my side, especially young businessmen, who could see my point about higher profits. Some of them freed their slaves, and then the profit point took on a tone of morality and civic pride.
“They are saying if barbarians like the Lycanthians can allow their slaves to purchase their freedom,” Janos reported with much laughter, “then Orissa can certainly go them one better.”
“I only hope it hasn’t injured your cause,” I said.
“Actually, it has improved it,” Janos said. “The same people who support me are the ones most likely to free their slaves. So it turns out we are walking hand-in-hand again, as if we were back to our trek.” Not that all went perfectly. Hot words turned to brawls now and then. Many owners became angry when they were accosted on the street by former slaves who berated them for not freeing the people in their keep.
Then a public meeting was called at the Great Amphitheater. It was announced a second expedition to the Far Kingdoms had been approved; and there would be public discussion on who would lead it. Once again, Cassini’s name was raised. I rode with Janos to the meeting. He dressed himself as a soldier; still favoring the plain light armor, and common sword on his back. But astride his horse, his black beard brushed until it glistened and his big white teeth smiling, he looked like a young king. Outside the amphitheater we were cheered by a large group of angry young men; among them was Malaren.
“Thank you for the greeting,” Janos said. “But what is happening?”
“I will tell you, my dear man,” Malaren seethed. “They plan to steal the leadership of the expedition.”
“Who is they?” I broke in, for Janos was too jolted to ask.
A burly man with thick, calloused hands answered. “Those dogbitten magistrates, that’s who.” He shouted. I saw the mark on his arm — he was a recent slave. “And the damned Evocators’re in on it, too.”
“Not all of them,” Malaren said. “But there are enough old men and cowards in both groups to give it to Cassini.”
I looked at Janos, his eyes steel and his hand reaching for his sword. He looked ready to kick his horse into a gallop and charge the amphitheater. Someone shouted: “We’re with you Greycloak!” Others took up the shout. “We’ll not let them try and cheat you again.” Other voices were raised, and I saw many more had joined us. Among them were lords like Malaren, and common folk, blacksmiths and sailors, and yes, former slaves as well. I felt a great stirring of battle coming on.
Abruptly Janos was all calmness. He raised a hand and there was silence. “We will not behave as rabble,” he said. “If you are with me, then come quietly. I want you all to sit together, and I swear that I shall speak for all of you as well as myself.”
There were mutters but Janos’s commanding presence prevailed; we readied ourselves to enter. I felt a tug at my breeches, and I looked down and recognized a young servant from my household. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
“What is it?” I asked.
“It is Lady Antero,” she cried. “Come quickly. Your child is being born.”
Her words pierced me. I was torn by the heat of the moment and fear for Deoce. Janos kicked his horse to my side. “Go,” he said.
“But... the meeting... the...”
He pushed me, rough. “I can do this. I will need you more later. Now, go!” My wavering broke and I swept the servant girl up on my saddle and raced through the streets for the villa. Behind me I heard a great roaring echo from the amphitheater.
The birthing bed was a horror of blood and pain. Two midwives tended my poor Deoce, and not all their medicines and spells could ease her agony. My daughter was coming, but she wasn’t coming easily. Deoce gripped my hand so hard I thought my fingers would break. “I knew you would come,” she wept. “They said there was... a meeting. The expedition! But... I knew you would come just the same.”
I tried to find words, but they were all puny things beside her pain and faith in me. All I could say was I loved her and I would love her until the sands all washed away to sea. She gave a terrible scream, and I thought I had lost my Deoce forever. Silence... So thick and heavy after that scream I can feel it stifle me as I scratch these words. Then I saw my daughter’s head emerge between Deoce’s bloody thighs. My wife choked back another scream, and the babe came the rest of the way into the practiced hands of the midwife. A moment later, Emilie gave her first cry. My daughter was born.
“Is she beautiful?” came Deoce’s weak voice.
I looked at the bloody little thing, with her eyes squeezed tight shut. She was howling now, angry for being plucked from warm safety. “Yes, my love,” I answered. “She is beautiful.” And as I watched the midwives clean her, and then wrap her in soft linen to ready Emilie to meet her mother for the first time, I really did believe this so.
* * * *
Outside of a war, the second expedition to the Far Kingdoms was the largest force mounted in Orissan history. This would be no private Finding, where a young man could gallop off wherever he chose, with however many drinking companions his father could afford. Destiny was being gambled for and every person in the city wanted a place at the table. Fully two thousand would go: troops, horses and their tenders; officers and their servants; camp followers by the score to pleasure the men; cooks, bakers, armorers, bearers, and the simply curious who had influence enough to get their names on the rolls. By unanimous acclaim, the man who would lead this great force was Janos Greycloak.
“It wasn’t much of a fight,” Janos said that night. “Cassini never even took the stage, although I saw him waiting in the wings, all blown up with his own importance. He was pacing back and forth rehearsing his acceptance speech. If that wasn’t enough of a clue for a poor, dim-witted soldier such as myself, the fact all the men on the stage were our enemies was enough to know that someone had filled pips on the dice with lead.” Janos shook his head, still in amazed shock. “As soon as I took my place, the whole crowd began shouting like before — `Janos. Janos.’ And all that rot.” His teeth flashed, and I knew he hadn’t found it “rot” at all. “But this time it much louder and the voices were so furious you had to be a fool not to know there was blood in their eye. Some fellows made so bold as to rush the platform, but fell back when I asked them not to be so rude and to let these worthy gentlemen speak.”
Janos gulped down a tumbler of wine, then started laughing. “Oh, I wish you could have been there, my friend,” he said. “There’s been nothing in your experience quite like it.” Janos said Jeneander and his friends held a hurried conference, trying to ignore the boisterous remarks of the crowd. As Janos indicated, nothing like this had ever happened in Orissa, and our enemies were in a panic, flinching under the crowd’s abuse as if they were throwing stones instead of words. Someone in the crowd spotted Cassini, and a group charged him; but he managed to flee in time. On the stage a decision was made, but then they began to squabble about who would deliver it to the angry citizens of Orissa. The crowd laughed at their plight, pressing toward the stage again. Then a magistrate gave Jeneander a hard shove, and he stumbled forward, his image cast large by the magnification spell. He stood quaking next to Janos.
“I silenced our friends, and gave Jeneander my best smile of greeting,” Janos said. “I put my arm around him as if he were my brother, and I said loudly, so all could hear: `No matter what your choice, my friend, all of here know that you worthy gentlemen have labored long to arrive at your wise decision’“
Janos laughed and took another gulp of wine to ease his throat. “Then poor Jeneander began to speak,” he continued. “His first words came out a sort of a squeaky quack, as if a mouse had mated with a duck. But he finally got it out, his knees quaking as if we were standing in a wintery breeze. He said, still in that high voice: `We declare that the leader of the second expedition will be... Captain Janos Greycloak.’
“Well, you couldn’t hear a thing after that from all the shouting. But no matter, for no sooner had the good evocator said his piece, he and the others bolted from the stage as if they were rabbits who’d just had a great vision of a bubbling stewpot.” I laughed at the scene he painted until tears flowed. I refilled our glasses and we drank a toast to Te-Date who had so confounded our enemies.
Then Janos turned serious: “I want you to know,” he said, “that no matter what follows in our lives, you could never accumulate enough deeds from me to repay the debt I owe you.” I made humble, nonsense noises, but my heart was full of joy. I heard Emilie cry somewhere in the house, and then the nursemaid’s voice lifted in soft song to soothe her. It had been a most remarkable day.
Janos heard that cry as well, and he smiled. “I know it is not possible for you to come with me this time,” he said. “You have too many burdens now. But you should know I will sorely miss you.”
“That is kind of you to say,” I replied. “But, I know that last time I was so green that I was little real help to you. And now you will have a great army, with many experienced, professional men to advise you.”
Janos gave his head a hard shake. “Your one real flaw, my friend,” he said, “is you do not realize your own worth. You will be a dangerous man when you do, for you have a natural talent as an adventurer. More importantly, you have the strength of a firm heart and steady vision. Don’t bother denying it, I know you well; perhaps in some things better than you know yourself. We are much alike, Amalric Antero. As alike as if we were twins. But you don’t have my dark side, thank the gods.”
He peered at me, and I saw from the redness in his eyes he was a little drunk. “I swear to you, Amalric,” he said, “when I stand in the Far Kingdoms, I will make sacrifice in your honor. And I shall tell the masters of that place that I bring greetings from, my good friend, and twin...” His voice stopped in midsentence, and I saw his head had fallen. I plucked the tumbler of wine from his hand before it spilled, and as I crept out of the room I heard his first, weary snore.
One month later the expedition set forth. Every craft that could be spared had been pressed into service to carry that mighty group to the sea. The whole city turned out to see them off. I stood on a hill near the bend as they passed, and am not ashamed to admit I felt a little regret I was not going with them. But when the last ship had gone, and I turned toward home, I thought of Deoce and Emilie, and my step was suddenly very light.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE DARK SEEKER
What I write next is difficult. I would pay almost any price if I could scrape this time from the scrolls of my life. Orissa had been blessed by the gods for years. Our sacrifices had been rewarded many times over: the harvests bountiful; the river quiescent; soldiers victorious; health excellent; and our children obedient. Then the gods called in the debt.
