Morey stood in the middle of the road, blocking the way with arms spread.
"Out of the way, boy," the man seated at the front wagon of the convoy growled, "I don't care if you're the Hero or not. "
"Not unless you leave them here," he nodded at the cages in the wagon.
The man frowned and signaled the guards around him. The six knights quickly came forward and surrounded Morey, weapons ready to draw and spells ready to cast. Almost at once, a motley group of twenty people emerged from the thick wet forest around them, weapons at the ready.
The major difference was that the group's weapons radiated magic. Certainly not the sort of thing a bandit group could afford. And there was strong magic there, spears and arrows that fairly glowed in the unseen. There were even some wands.
What was worse, the weapons and armour only made themselves known when the group approached. Suppression of magical signature was an advanced technique, even worse when considering that it was used on an alchemy enchantment. So not only did they have a powerful alchemist, but one who could also perform complex techniques.
The alchemist appeared from the forest, behind a wall of people carrying magical defensive shields. An alchemist on the battlefield was useless if there were other people to activate enchanted items for her, but here she was anyway. She was carrying a staff, a charged steel staff that was far more complex than any enchantment had a right to be.
The knights gulped. True, the enchanted items wouldn't let one of the ambushers fight a knight, they didn't have enough on them, but there were a lot of ambushers. There was some calculation as they weighed their magical power against the inevitable barrage if they had to fight. They still had the advantage, if small.
They took a step forward to the boy who was surrounded then stopped. A glow of magical power entered their range and rapidly built into the full signature in the characteristic manner of entering the concealment range. Another girl stepped out of the forest behind the convoy, sealing off the route back to the city.
She was flanked by four helpers, each carrying a preposterous three steel staffs, all of which were fully charged.
That was more than enough power to force a way through the guards at a city gate, much less a mere six knights. The titanic well of power alone could squash them like a bug. And the girl had black hair and black eyes. A pure blooded Tsarian, clearly of the summoner clans judging from the fist sized green crystal hanging on an ornate necklace clutched in one hand. If that summoning stone wasn't fake, it was clearly Greater rank at least, possibly even Ritual.
One shot from that stone and the entire convoy would be flattened.
Morey nodded gratefully as they dropped their weapons. The convoy leader frowned, "should the Hero be stooping to robbing travelling merchants? What will the people think?"
"The people I care about aren't people like you," Morey growled, "get off your wagon now and give me the keys or we'll start killing. "
The convoy leader sighed and got off his wagon. Morey nodded at the rest of the wagons as well and the drivers gathered at the head of the convoy, made to sit separately from the surrendering knights. As the wagon drivers passed him, Morey and a few followers padded them down and retrieved any key that looked like it belonged to the wagons.
Morey dropped the keys into a rough pile and a single pulse of magic melted them into unusability.
"Cut the slaves out of their cages and and toss the cages," Morey gestured the rest towards the wagons, "we'll keep the wagons and Rekis. This lot can walk back. "
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One month ago
Morey wiped away the sweat rolling down his cheeks and onto his neck with a damp cloth. It didn't do much good.
This country seemed to be hotter than Inath, even if the position of Selna still said they weren't near the equator. Perhaps it was the lack of trees and slightly sandy soil but the rays of the sun continued to beat down on him mercilessly. No kind breeze came along to ease his suffering.
Being a Hero didn't save one from the elements.
"The plantation is just up ahead," Etani pointed at a row of black specs jutting up from the ground a long way down the road.
"Let's stop over there for today," Morey panted, "we need to refill our water and rest. Perhaps we can make better time to this ruin if we can get enough Rekis to ride instead of a just pull a cart. "
Etani looked up at the sky, seeing the Little Night about to begin. She got a reluctant look on her face but one glance at Ereli and Nal dissuaded her from pushing further forward. Even if they were just sitting in the cart taking turns driving, Ereli was lying against the folded tents, her limp body with a consistency approaching melted butter. Nal also looked flushed and had spent the last few hours staring into the distance, her small body was more sensitive to the ravages of heat and light and despite consuming the most water out of all of them, it just sweated out of her skin like a wrung cloth.
For all her stoicness, Locoss didn't look too comfortable either.
Reki riders met them some distance away from the plantation when they approached close enough after the Little Night, their incomprehensible shouting and face concealing cloths made Etani ready her hammer. But a revived Ereli began to speak rapidly with them in native Tsarian, which neither Morey nor Etani understood. Locoss seemed as if she understood it too but her normal silence meant that it made no difference.
The riders suddenly looked very interested in Morey and chattered animatedly amongst themselves. Ereli probably just told them he was the Hero.
"This is the domain of Duke Zain, we've crossed over into northern Illastein," Ereli said then paused as one of the riders gestured, "uh, Allawi Zain. Allawi is something like a Duke in Inath. He's a very important person anyway. "
"Ah," Morey nodded, "can you ask for permission to stay with them tonight? And if he'll sell us some water. "
After some moments, Ereli nodded, "they say that they are Zain's liegemen and can't make the decisions for him, but they are sure the Allawi will welcome the Hero and ask you to proceed with them so we can talk to him directly. "
Morey nodded again and their little cart trundled forward, flanked by the six riders.
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The cloth spread over the riders heads was apparently just a precaution against the sun, one that Morey and his party hastily adopted. Zain met them under a large brickwork house, one of the few in the large settlement that wasn't stained brown with sand.
His sharp eyes and lean muscular body improved Morey's impression of the Allawi dramatically, he had had enough of the lazy nobles in Inath.
"It is good to see you here," Zain said as the servants dragged out a table into the main hall of his residence and brought out a spread of bowls filled with various strange sauces and creams to go with their bread and strips of meat. And clay pitchers of much welcome boiled water, even if tepid. There were no chairs and they stood around munching and drinking as Zain introduced his wife and three children.
"Rumours of a new Hero in the Inath court have been spreading down here in Illastein," after sending his family away, Zain continued in perfectly understandable Inath language, "although I must confess to find myself surprised by your presence. I would have thought you would be up north fighting the monsters? Your legendary command of the battle for Reyk village has been sung by our minstrels all over the land you know!"
"You grace me too much, I-" Morey tried to bow but Zain held out a hand to stop him.
"It is our custom that those with a higher position should never bow to one lower," Zain said, bowing shallowly to him, "allow my indulgence. A mere Alawi cannot accept bowing from one such as you. "
Morey could tell the waiting servants suddenly turn extremely respectful. They had been unsure of whether to treat Morey or Zain with more respect and Zain's nod towards them confirmed that the Alawi was just making the relationship clear for them. Morey settled for a nod and continued, "Your minstrels must have exaggerated my role, Zain, I did nothing but stand at the back and give orders. "
"But it was still a glorious victory against a hated enemy," Zain smiled and called for a servant to bring up cups of expensive wine, "this is the least I can do for the defender of our realm. So, I'm still curious what you are doing here. "
Morey nodded at the tanned servant girl who served him his cup first then offered the second to Zain before the rest of Morey's companions. "My mission is not actually to hunt the monsters. Queen Amarante charged me to find the Sword of Legend in order to end this war and we are tracing down a Tsarian ruin that we think contains clues towards our quest. "
"If you are travelling further south into Illastein, please be careful of bandits," Zain warned him, "they care not for our status and neither will they hesitate to attack the Hero himself. Even if they don't have magic, they use underhanded tricks that have laid low many honest merchants and nobles. If you need a guard, do please ask and I shall see who I can spare. "
"It's all right," Morey reassured him, "the four of them are the best in Inath and I doubt the bandits can be much worse than a zombie army. "
Zain nodded sagely and was about to reply when there was a squeal from behind Morey. They turned to see Nal gagging in tears, chugging down one cup of water after another. Ereli was patting her back with one hand and munching on a illon wrapped piece of Paka meat that dripped with a dangerous looking red sauce with the other.
Morey had earlier been warned off the sauce by Etani, as it was extremely spicy. Ereli nonchalantly took another bite of the probably-lethal quantities of hot sauce while Nal drained a full pitcher of water held by a grinning servant. Morey chuckled at the rare sight of Ereli getting the one up on someone.
It certainly wasn't the sight expected of Inath's elite adventuring party.
Not that there was any doubt about that given the huge amount of magic radiating from the steel plates at the bottom of their cart. Enough magic to flatten the entire settlement ten times over, built up by Locoss when she discovered how to siphon off magic from Ereli's daily strength training.
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The light hearted feast continued for another few minutes as Morey and Zain idly chatted while watching Nal challenge Ereli again after Locoss also managed to stuff down an entire piece of meat with sauce. She barely reacted but the slight flush and beads of sweat on her forehead was her equivalent of a screaming fit. Etani kindly offered her a cup of water.
As Morey drained his cup of light and refreshing wine, he reached out for another piece of paka meat, without sauce. The same tanned servant girl, now holding a pitcher of wine, had come up behind him to refill his cup and Morey accidentally hit the pitcher with his arm.
There was a smashing sound, a wave of cold liquid swept over Morey's feet and into his heavy cloth shoes. He looked down to see the pitcher in pieces on the ground and the wine soaking into his shoes. The servant girl jumped backwards but not before Morey saw the blood dripping from where the sharp clay pieces had cut her when the pitcher shattered in her hands.
He was about to ask Etani for first aid when Zain roared behind him, "you clumsy girl! Apologize now!"
Morey jumped a little in shock and the girl immediately dropped to her knees in front of him, pressing her face to the floor and saying something in Tsarian. Her palms pressed down on the floor in an utterly servile position, not caring if any pieces cut her knees or arms.
"What-" Morey gaped and crouched down, sweeping the clay pieces aside with magic. "You don't have to do this, get up," he said, tugging on her arm.
She only pressed herself down further, blood mixing into the spilled wine. "I am really sorry for this impoliteness, Hero," Zain said, bowing deeply to him, "I will make sure to punish her properly. " He snapped harshly at the girl in Tsarian and she pressed herself flatter.
"It is all right, Zain," Morey tried to interrupt but Zain kicked the girl in the shoulder, snapping at her again. She got up and tried to scurry off but Morey caught her arm. That got Zain's attention.
"I said it's all right, Alawi," Morey put on a smile, "she's hurt more than I and it was my fault-"
"No, it can't be your fault," Zain said, bowing frantically, "the fault is mine for not training her properly. I will replace your shoes with my best and punish her severely. "
"Etani, can you get some cloths and bandages, she's bleeding quite badly," Morey held on to the girl's arms firmly, preventing her from running away. He caught sight of her teary face and thought of something, he looked at Zain sharply, "it may be your custom to blame the servants for honest mistakes but it is mine to recognize our own faults. I will not blame her nor look to you for damages. A small matter of spilt wine and a broken pitcher is surely not cause for such treatment. "
Zain's face looked conflicted and the room descended into an awkward silence until Etani came back with two servants carrying rags in a bucket of water. Ereli began to boil the water while Etani and Morey carefully picked out the clay shards from the girl's arms. She was crying all the while, trying to refuse them but Morey sternly held on and did not let go.
As Etani expertly washed and dressed the girl's wounds with the sterilized rags, Morey released her when he was sure she wasn't about to dash off.
"Alawi Zain, I am neither harmed nor bothered. These shoes have seen far worse and will be perfectly serviceable once washed," he paused, "if you are worried about damage to my honour or respect, rest assured I do not mind. In fact in my customs, the grace to forgive such minor matters is expected from one who holds power. If you must insist on a punishment, please let her off with just washing my shoes. Any more would make me uncomfortable. "
Zain snarled something at the girl and she nodded, relaxing slightly. "She appreciates your leniency. I will lend you my best pair of shoes and she will have yours clean and dry within the hour. " Morey sighed, wondering if Zain really understood what Morey tried to say. Was this what they called a culture gap? Then Zain glanced at the girl and looked at Morey speculatively, "or perhaps did she catch your eye? I can also send her to your room tonight. "
Morey could almost choke, he didn't understand after all! Did Zain really think Morey was acting nice because he was attracted to the servant girl? True, the childish pink tattoos around her neck were a little bit cute, but sleeping with her under the circumstances would be practically rape!
"Surely not, Zain," Morey sighed, "I meant what I said and do not require anything more. Besides, she cannot and should not consent to such an order. It will be beyond cruelty to sleep with an unwilling girl. "
Zain frowned in confusion.
"That doesn't matter, Morey," he said, "she's my slave and will do whatever I say. If you want her to be willing, I can order her. "
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"What does Zain mean by that?!" Morey snarled, pacing up and down the large guest room.
The four girls were sitting on the edge of the row of four cloth mattresses meant for them. Morey's single bed was at the other end of the room separated by a cloth partition, although his bed was more like a double. The meaning of that arrangement was not lost on him and the unflattering implications on his partymates only fed his irritation. But there were more pressing questions.
"Mean by what?" Nal asked.
"He said that girl was his slave, what does that even mean?" Morey said, "he said that if he ordered her to be willing to sleep with me, she would. Is that even possible?"
"Um," Nal frowned in confusion, "slaves are frowned upon and uncommon in Inath but Illastein is far more hierarchical and slavery is very common here. If he tells her to sleep with you, then she will have to do so? I mean, slaves are the property of their master, that's in the definition. "
The pit seemed to drop out of Morey's stomach. This world was far more dangerous than he thought! "So if he orders her to kill herself, she will just do it?!" he exclaimed.
"Uh, no?" Nal frowned deeper, "Zain can beat, punish or starve his slaves, or even kill them. But why would she obey that order instead of trying to escape, however unlikely? After all, a disobedient slave is made to behave by punishment and threats. "
Oh, whew. "So she's not forced to obey him, except on pain of death or torture," Morey sucked in a breath, "there's no magical compulsion that can force her to sleep with me or even worse, make her want to. The tattoos on her neck is probably just a marking then. "
Nal looked sick and shook her head, "how do you even get these ideas? There is no such magic. Magic can cut off your arm or burn you but it's not a living thing. It can't make you want..." she shivered in disgust, "just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. If you could control people with magic..."
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Etani spat out the nearby window. Locoss still continued to look like a life sized doll.
Ereli raised a hand timidly, "actually, in the ancient stories from the Tsar, there have been references to mind magic. There are of course no hint that the spells were real and we, the summoner clans, think that these are just legends. But what Morey talked about does exist as a concept. There is even a Tsarian word for it so it was treated as a standalone concept. "
Wonderful, to take so long to discover such a dark side to this society. At least they weren't mind magic slaves or Morey would seriously start wondering if he could join the monsters' side. Now he just had to reconcile his morals with normal slavery, bad enough as it was.
"What is the stance of Inath on slavery? You said that it was frowned upon and uncommon, but that doesn't mean they don't exist, do they?" Morey asked.
Nal frowned at his tone, "slaves aren't sold in Inath. Even if there isn't a law against it, it... just isn't done. Most of the slaves in the federation are owned by Illastein nobles and the few in Inath proper were brought in by merchants from the south. No one respectable in Inath would be caught dead with a slave in their household. "
"So if you despise slavery that much, why haven't you made Illastein get rid of it?"
They gaped at him. Morey continued, "they're part of the federation right? Can't Amarante force Illastein to free their slaves?"
"That's not feasible," Etani said, "my queen may be powerful but Illastein has less reason than most to contribute to the federation. Their southern and most of their eastern border is an open lifeless desert that not even the monsters roam in and their west is the ocean. Their only contact with the monsters is through Kirita's gap which Calva Principality is defending. Our efforts at Reyk village relieved a huge pressure on Calva's north, which means that Illastein is more secure now than ever. "
Nal nodded, "Illastein has only joined the federation because they know that if Inath falls to the monsters, their land is completely indefensible. But their lack of pressure also means we can't push them too hard. "
"And I guess that my position as the Hero can't do anything about this?" Morey asked.
"Um, you might be able to get some of them to give you slaves but essentially, your authority comes from Queen Amarante," Nal explained, "so no, you can't do it. "
Morey thought for a while then asked them, "what about the four of you? What do you think about the slavery system here?"
"Not good. Very," Locoss replied immediately. They looked at her in surprise, that was quite a lot of emotion in that statement.
Seeing that Ereli nodded too, "I hate how Zain treated her like his possession. "
Etani and Nal were less trusting of him though. Nal asked, "why do you ask that? I don't like them enslaving people but this is how it is. "
"None of us like the slavery system," Etani said finally, "but Illastein is not Inath and the monsters are the bigger problem. "
Morey sighed. "What if I freed the slaves?" Morey asked, "the five of us are the best mages Inath can offer. With that huge pile of magic outside, we can definitely make an impact. "
Ereli's starry eyes were painfully naive, she was no doubt thinking of that servant girl and Zain's cruel treatment. In contrast, Nal and Etani were horrified. What made Morey surprised was the reason.
"You can't do that! If the Hero starts attacking Illastein slave dealers, the Inath federation court will..." Etani said incredulously, "you'll be treated like a bandit! And think of what would happen if the status of the Hero!"
"Morey," Nal's arguments were more levelheaded but harder to argue against, "if a symbol like you attacks Illastein, they will very likely treat it as an attack by Inath. The federation could fall apart! And if we start fighting each other again like the wars a hundred years ago, the monsters will definitely kill us all. "
"Morey, please, think of the bigger picture," Etani pleaded. It was a rare sight, she was normally so strong headed and reliable. "I know that girl is pitiful but please understand that we cannot always get our way. "
There was a flare of magic besides them and they looked at Locoss incredulously. She was charging a wand, the spell looked like a firebolt, possibly. She met their looks with a characteristic blankness.
"Uh, Locoss, Morey didn't mean we are going to break her out now," Etani said, "that's right, yes? Morey?"
Her flat expressionless eyes held an unidentifiable pressure. It felt like a betrayal to look away but that was all Morey could do. After all, he was only one man, no matter how strong. And even if all five of them tried, they couldn't change the society here. Nal and Etani were right.
Morey grimaced and nodded to Etani.
It wouldn't be today, or even this year. But once this war was over, Morey swore to himself, he would come back for the slaves.
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One of the girls must have told Zain last night, or perhaps he figured out why Morey had insisted on treating the slave girl nicely. When morning came, the Alawi invited him to talk to the household slaves that brought them a sumptuous breakfast.
They were all invariably cheerful and bright, full of praises for Zain and his provision of a livelihood for them. All the slaves recognized him, probably Morey's description had been circulated among his household. While the claims that he gave them an allowance, fed them well and did not overwork them were almost certainly true, the fact that they were all young beautiful girls with the pink neck tattoo was not lost on Morey. The first man he saw was the cook, and the deliciousness of the food and his leadership of the cooking girls was the clear reason why Zain had not replaced him with a fresher flower.
It made Morey sick to hear it.
"Perhaps he was just nervous the girl might have offended you last night?" Ereli asked as she followed him out of the building. Morey had left to catch a breath of fresh air when he could take no more. "The slaves are very lively and do not seem to mind that they are slaves. "
Morey could only sigh. It was statements like this that made him afraid for Ereli. She was far too easily deceived and her cloistered childhood gave her a naive innocent view of the world that saw nothing deeper than what others wanted her to see.
"Come with me," Morey said, walking down the path leading to the plantation, "I'll show you what the slaves are really treated like. " The guard at the gate recognized him and stood up hurriedly to bow to him. Morey nodded and got permission to enter.
"This will be where he keeps the slaves he doesn't want to look at. " Or worse, Morey added to himself. Even if the female slaves had a chance at a better life if the Alawi ever got them pregnant, indeed a few of them he covertly asked had expressed that very hope, he still could not accept that such could be considered consent.
"His plantations are very big though," Ereli remarked, admiring the seemingly endless rows of fruit trees, "it's also nice and cool under the shade. " Morey looked down at the soil, noting how the crisscrossing channels between the rows of trees carried water. They must take a lot of effort to create and maintain, especially in the loose sandy soil of this country.
A trio of young boys, with the characteristic black slave tattoo over their forehead, ran past them carrying armloads of choko fruits. Despite their speed, they expertly bounded over the irrigation channels without dropping a single fruit and disappeared amongst the rows.
Morey and Ereli followed their trail more slowly and after some walking reached the edge of the plantation. A low wall divided it from the road and the gate there was flanked by a collection station. Boys and girls swarmed in with arm loads of fruit while the stronger adult men and women carried basketfuls. It would appear that a section of the plantation was being harvested today and the slaves were frantically trying to gather all the fruit from that section of the plantation before the birds damaged the crop.
The collection station was controlled by six overseers, paid workers who were not slaves, who were themselves overlooked by a pair of guards. They counted off the slaves and made sure the slaves placed their burdens down in the waiting baskets.
What brought Morey up to a halt was the whips on their belts. Ereli, of course, saw nothing but the busy activity and watched the lines of slaves queuing to relieve their loads with interest.
An overseer recognized him and hurried up after choosing a pair of chokos from the baskets.
Ereli translated the Tsarian for Morey. "Welcome to Zain's master plantation, the biggest in the land!" he bowed deeply, trying to be welcoming in his own inexperienced manner, "please do enjoy a sample of our fruit. "
Morey coldly nodded but didn't take it, the lines of slaves that gathered the fruit and tended the plantation was not something he intended to appreciate. With a cramped look on his face, the overseer stood there with a choko in each hand not knowing what to do. Then the overseer turned back to the lines of slaves, mistaking the meaning of Morey's look.
"Faster!" he stuffed a choko into his pocket, drew his whip and cracked it against the ground. The pace of the collection suddenly increased. The other five overseers also drew their own whips...
Morey stopped the overseer and his colleagues with an outstretched arm, "No. Continue as you were. "
The overseers relaxed slightly but the one who was still holding a choko dumbly was at a loss of how to handle Morey's bad mood. Ereli was looking a little conflicted now.
"You see, Ereli, this is how the real slaves are treated," Morey said, ignoring the overseer, "those pink tattooed women are Zain's pleasure slaves. And he's not the sort of man who would break his own toys. "
"Zain treats his slaves well," the overseer added respectfully, "he understands that slaves must be fed well to do good work. Truly, he makes my job easy. "
"And that means that other slaveholders don't even treat their slaves as well as Zain does, not that these are good conditions. Why, they don't even have shoes or clothing!" Morey pointed out to Ereli.
A ripple of astonishment went through the overseers and slave line. Probably at the thought of giving slaves shoes to wear. Judging from the face of overseer in front of him, the man probably thought Morey was just a soft hearted noble who understood nothing. If food sped up the work and improved health, so would shoes, but of course that logic was beyond the overseer.
He was probably just thinking about avoiding the inevitable hostility if the slaves were starved.
"So what happens if a slave disobeys orders?" Morey asked the overseer, "surely not even Zain is well loved by all his slaves. "
"The disobedient ones are punished of course," the overseer pointed in a direction through the trees, "the punishment station is next to the gathering ground where the slaves are assigned tasks each morning. Those who fail to meet their targets are punished there as a warning. "
"Show me," Morey said, not caring that Ereli was starting to look a bit pale.
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"Ah, there appears to be a punishment in progress," the overseer said as they walked through the forest.
There was the faint crack in the distance, the sound of a whip striking flesh. Morey hurried forwards with a sinking feeling.
The punishment station was a simple set of wooden stakes driven into the ground. The current slave being punished was a wiry man, his arms chained to the iron link fastened to the stake. To either side of the stake were two men holding whips and lashing the slave on the back. Each time the whip descended with a earsplitting crack, a bloody mark appeared on the man's arms and thighs.
The streaks of lash marks that tore the slave's skin away were positioned to avoid important areas, and they bit only skin deep. They were not going to risk killing the slave or inflicting permanent injury, and the two slavedrivers were clearly well practiced.
There were no slaves in sight and the few that had to pass the area in their duties studiously avoided looking at the man, scurrying away as quickly as they could.
The overseer walked up to them and they paused to speak with him. Then he came back again.
Ereli didn't translate his words immediately, instead asking a few questions back and forth. The dismay on her face was clear and obvious, she hid behind Morey and refused to look when the two men picked up their whips to continue.
"He was caught stealing," Ereli muttered, clutching Morey's shirt from behind like a frightened child, "he gave a choko to his son, also a slave on this plantation. His punishment is thirty lashes over the three days he will spend chained to the stake. "
Ereli sniffled, "his son... his son is punished with his father's share of the work while he recovers from the lashes. His son is only ten and if he doesn't meet the quota, he will also be punished. "
Morey gulped as the two slavedrivers continued their lashing, he would not look away. The man was not even crying out, having no energy to do so. Perhaps in this country, this might be considered fitting punishment, but to him and Ereli, this punishment was brutal. And Zain was considered to be one of the nicer slaveowners?! If ever Morey needed a demonstration that human morality could be twisted to accept nearly anything, all he had to do was look at the slightly bored face of the overseer.
Once again, Morey strongly felt that he had stepped into another world. He could already predict what Nal and Etani would say, that such was cruel but the way of Illastein and there was nothing Inath could do about it. And they would be right, damn it all. In a way, Ereli was one out of the four girls who understood his position best. What that said when a naive sheltered Iris lady held the most in common with the sensibility of twenty first century Earth, Morey had no idea.
As Morey stood there watching the punishers as they slowly and painfully meted out the day's lashings, the bell for lunch at noon rang out.
The slaves gathered in the open area next to the stakes, ready to receive their first meal of the day. The overseers followed them in and surrounded the dirt area. The leading person then stepped up in front of the gathered slaves, shouting something in Tsarian.
Ereli burst into tears behind him as two overseers plunged into the crowd to drag out a desolate boy, an empty adult basket strapped to his back. Even without Ereli's explanation, Morey knew the boy had failed to meet the quota. There was little chance of that when the boy himself could fit into the basket.
The slaves looked down and away, avoiding the harsh gazes and shouts admonishing them from the overseers. The boy's father finally stirred at the stake and shouted something only to be silenced by a lash across the face. He wasn't silenced for long.
With a stony face, Morey watched as the slavedrivers dragged the screaming boy over to the stakes and chained him in front of his father and raised their whips, ignoring the father's desperate shouting. The overseer in front of Morey paused them and came up to him, looking at Ereli streaming tears behind him.
In broken Inath language, he said slowly, "Go, leave. Not good for woman see. " He spoke gently in Tsarian to Ereli but she didn't respond.
Morey patted her hands that dug into his arm painfully, "do you want to go?"
Ereli shook her head mutely. Even as the first whips descended on the boy and she gagged and vomited her breakfast onto the sand, she refused to leave.
Morey looked away politely, focusing on the scene. So what if this was their law? The Inath federation tolerated this travesty for the sake of unity, but did they really know what Illastein was like? The nobles of Inath lived in their own little bubble of convenience, Ereli was an extreme example, or that of a soldier like Etani. They had no time to worry about these smaller matters.
That was just the excuses they gave themselves, so they could avoid facing the reality of the slavery in Illastein. To avoid engaging with it emotionally and write off the lives of thousands or millions of slaves as a necessity for the war of survival.
But right here, right now, the calculus of diplomatic niceties, the weighing of the survival of all against the living sacrifice of the Illastein slaves; the reasons seemed so trivial next to the screams of torture. Morey was a Hero, someone who was supposed to help all people in Inath, and right now, there was someone in front of him shouting for help.
He raised a hand, magic dancing at his fingertips.