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Metu
A sudden promotion
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Never trust good news at face value.
The dwarf wasn’t pleased with Voron. The Monarch’s Shield and the Lord of Public Works were both unwilling to give in as the indignant Voron wasn’t pleased as well.
“The lake’s surface is up a meter! It has flooded the shores,” Lord Fikumin explained for a second time what was evident to everyone. “Thick mud has covered the lake’s taverns and reached as far as the villas. Fish live still in the puddles! We use oxen to draw the carriages through the sludge Voron! It is dangerous to walk on foot,” he added angrily.
Dwarves were apparently hit the worst by the bad weather.
“I’ll have the last tower finished in a month. At least the roof,” Voron argued. “If I release the crews now then the schedule would be off and I can’t start work on the interior.”
“Don’t work on the interior!” Fikumin boomed and Metu coughed a little startled. Vulreon who was taking notes for the Palace just as Phinariel was taking notes for the city, raised his head and looked at him austerely.
Something in my windpipe, Metu explained voicelessly forming the sentence with his mouth while Fikumin and Voron continued arguing.
“Have the citizens shovel the mud away themselves. Lazy, lamebrain dullards! Use buckets to wash the pavements and clean the patios for crying out loud!” Voron countered sounding exasperated. “Your men as well Captain Horton!”
Captain Horton who was present for the Council meeting furrowed his brows perturbed. “We are policing the situation Lord Voron.”
“How about helping out instead?” Voron retorted inflexibly. “We’ve no crime in Taras Captain!”
Eh, they had actually, Metu thought and worked a finger at his collar to loosen it.
“Enough! You’ll keep one crew to work on the castle and get everyone else in Taras Voron!” Fikumin fumed pounding both fists on the table. Vulreon frowned at Phinariel’s startled chuckle and the young comely scribe blushed at his glare.
“I formally protest this nonsense,” Voron spat indignant. “Write it down Vulreon that I stood firm on finishing the Monarch’s own home in the face of stiff opposition!”
“The Monarch will manage with one less tower for a while,” Fikumin mocked him and Voron bristled but refrained from speaking. He crossed his arms over the chest annoyed with the whole procedure.
“Soletha raised the price in the wine,” Folen, the smart-eyed Zilan spying on people, reported taking the chance.
Metu cleared his throat and stood up. “She hasn’t. We haven’t discussed the new year’s limits nor enforced price controls yet Lord Folen.”
“The merchants are selling double what they did at Sinya Goras,” Folen argued. “The old crone is lying.”
“The scoundrel is defaming a priestess,” Voron commented sourly. “This is the sad state of affairs.”
“She’s older than me,” Folen retorted. “And I run a pleasure venue, so I’m pretty certain on both my arguments Voron.”
“We’ll look into the matter,” Fikumin grunted. “Does it affect our exports?”
“They buy like crazy,” Folen said. “There’s a shortage on Jelin.”
“The market is hit on Eplas and we’re giving it for free to Lord’s Burrow,” Metu pointed out.
“That’s a different deal. They pay us differently. We are waiting for a resolution at the Peninsula and we can’t use Ani Ta-Ne for the time being,” Fikumin explained. “Lord Tsuparin taxes everything that moors there so he’s not helpful.”
“It’s an opportunity to make coin,” Metu argued. “So it’s not surprising.”
“What else is on the agenda?” Fikumin said moving on gruffly. “The Permanent Council will meet later today for an update.”
“Eilven was fired again,” Rimeros, the Zilan advisor practically lived in Morn Taras, reported.
“The princess?” Fikumin asked with a scowl.
“Yes. She doesn’t want to study in the mornings,” Rimeros replied. “She can’t stay up late to play because of it and Eilven is a ‘bird of early morning’ let’s say.”
“Re-hire him,” Fikumin decided. “That’s a no on the fitness and staying late stuff. Inform Maeriel to enforce it.”
“I’m not sure it is possible my Lord Shield,” Rimeros argued politely.
“She’s a child Rimeros,” Fikumin grunted. “Just do it.”
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“Former slave,” the child said an hour later. Everyone had left the premises but for Fikumin that remained in Morn Taras due to the Monarch’s absence. Garth was in Greenwhale Peninsula so the mystery of his disappearance had been solved. This was months back.
Inis-Mir had a touch of her mother on her face. The lips, the shape of the eyes (not as pronounced) and face. She had her father’s jaw and hair a dark crimson that looked out of place but added to her exotic looks. Iskay at least thought it wonderful even if she didn’t have the redhead’s more common lighter hue. The princess had a red tunic on, since she loved red and ordering people around the most.
“Your fêted highness,” Metu responded and bowed low, folding forward effortlessly but not without pain. It was part of the package.
“I need a ride,” Inis-Mir told him imperiously and approached leading in front of Iskay, her small anklet-adorned feet bare despite the cold. “Be my horse.”
“What is this malarkey? Princess, return to your room!” Fikumin boomed and the girl blinked just as Metu dropped on all fours out of habit.
“Iskay remove the dwarf. He’s too loud,” Inis-Mir ordered her guardian.
The comely slave frowned. “He’s also too heavy mistress,” she replied with a smile.
“Why?” Inis-Mir wondered staring at the stunned and turning a deep red Fikumin.
“I’ll have the knights carry you upstairs princess,” the dwarf warned her but she scoffed and climbed on Metu’s back. “Get down from the Castelan’s back!”
“She’s not heavy,” Metu assured him nervously.
“To the stairs faithful mount,” Inis-Mir ordered in an encouraging manner. “Let us ride to my room!”
“Stay where you are Metu!” Fikumin grunted. “Sir Delmuth!” He barked next.
“You can’t order my knights around dwarf,” the little princess argued. “Leave now, you’re irritating to my ears!”
“And you’re interrupting our talk with your insolence and belittling the Lord Castelan,” Fikumin retorted and walked near them.
“He doesn’t mind. Just ask him, he’ll tell you,” she countered lithely putting her small foot on the Lord Shield’s scowling face to shove him away. “He’s a horse that talks!”
Fikumin grabbed her foot and pulled her off of Metu with ease. While not much taller than the little girl, the dwarf was much wider and quite strong. Also a lot more hairy and the princess started pulling at his beard with both hands gluing her body on Wetull’s Lord Shield. Iskay hassled to get her off of the cursing dwarf and Sir Delmuth appeared at that moment, steel spurs clanking on the polished tiles.
The imposing Rokae hesitated at the uncommon sight of Lord Shield fully wrestling the young Princess of the kingdom. Inis-Mir had now straddled both legs on Fikumin’s thick neck in a tight vice and fought to keep him from dislodging her resembling a fledgling lioness that tried to take down a hairy boar.
Sir Delmuth glanced at the still prostrated on all fours Metu and then at the flushed Iskay watching mostly from up close.
“She’s just playing,” the Lady of the King’s Quarters answered the knight’s voiceless query.
“Arggh! Bothersome little fiend!” Fikumin growled and used two stubby fingers to seize the princess’ small ear. A pull and Inis-Mir screamed in pain which allowed the dwarf to get her off of him at last. A moment later he groaned and snatched his arm back. “She bit me!” Fikumin snapped angry and raised his hand to slap the snarling girl but Sir Delmuth stepped forward this time and stopped him.
“Iskay, escort the princess to her quarters,” Sir Delmuth ordered, voice muffled a bit under the silver mask.
“She’s grounded for a week on the first floor,” Fikumin ordered irate. “The man or woman that allows her anywhere near the throne hall I’ll throw in the dungeons and toss away the key!”
Voron had finished the prison cells a week back.
Sort of but they ‘could do the job in a pinch,’ as the Lord of Public Works reassured them.
“Get up!” Fikumin barked while Iskay took the staring daggers at the dwarf princess away. “What are you doing?”
This was addressed to him and Metu got up on his feet slowly.
“She won’t always be a child my lord,” he reminded the furious-looking dwarf.
You didn’t get to Metu’s age by taking unnecessary risks. Mistakes you can do, but the obvious ones it is better to steer clear from. Inis-Mir would be a harsh ruler despite her smarts and beauty. That people were blind to it for the most part, came as no surprise to him. People see what they want to see and just imagine the stuff that are missing.
“You’ll stay in the palace?” Fikumin asked tiredly and walked back to the table. He used the small stool next to it to climb up his tall chair with a groan. “It’s a madhouse in here.”
“I’ll return home for a bath and come back either tonight or next morning,” Metu replied and cleaned his robes at the knees.
“Why don’t you free her?” Fikumin asked after he glugged down a large goblet of wine and burped loudly.
Awa. His expensive slave girl. Lady Sen-Iv wanted her to replace Iskay’s friend but due to the Monarch’s unwillingness to bring more slaves in, the Sopat-bred and trained girl had ended up with him.
While not as pretty as Iskay, Awa was gifted and Metu really liked her.
Which is why he couldn’t let her go.
“It is better for her,” Metu replied stiffly.
“How can you say that? You were a slave afore Glen freed you!”
Metu stood back with a grimace of discomfort.
“I served first. Don’t just gloss it over. Then I was rewarded for it,” he retorted and Fikumin scowled his way.
“I should have left the princess ride you for the rest of the day,” the dwarf rustled. “Have you no soul?”
Oh, spare me the ethics lesson dwarf. We are not all cozy with the Monarch like you! The rest of us are fighting for our lives here.
“And I would have endured it without protest,” a peeved Metu retorted, adding with a polite curtsy to soften it. “My Lord Shield.”
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Metu arrived at his villa in the lakeshore district of Taras just after sunset. He bid his driver Lidos -a former Cofol caravan hand working for him- goodnight and walked inside the large hall of the repaired Zilan building. He reached the east side and his quarters weary from a long day. Metu removed his robes and sandals near a dresser and entered the massive bedroom where Awa was soaking in the heavy bronze bathtub.
The almond-eyes of the tanned slave turned his way finally after a moment, a smile forming on her damp face.
“How’s the water?” Metu asked already intrigued at her sight.
“Cold but also comfortable,” she replied teasingly.
“Can Soto prepare more?”
“He’s sleeping master. I’m wet enough for both of us,” Awa purred and got out of the bathtub slowly. Her nicely-toned body had a small tattoo with his name as its only blemish. Perky breasts with gold rings adorning the dark nipples and a thick bottom.
Awa walked near Metu and reached under his short tunic with a cold hand.
“It will warm up,” she assured him seeing his frown working on his quickly-responding phallus. “Just a small discomfort.”
“Where did you get the new rings?” Metu asked hoarsely clasping the left one between index finger and thumb, trapping the wet nipple also.
“Bought them at the market,” Awa replied throatily. “With your coin.”
“I’ll have to punish you for that.”
“I’ll do it again,” Awa argued and steered him slowly towards the bed using his rigid cock as a lever.
Metu dropped on the mattress and blinked when the aroused slave girl left to return with a large porcelain urn. It looked heavy.
“What’s in there?”
“Thyme honey from Lo-Minas,” Awa replied and cracked the sealed with wax wooden lid open. “I wasted the rest of your coin on it.”
Metu blinked one part enraged, the bigger part aroused and then licked his lips.
“That’s criminal,” he croaked and watched as she lathered some on her breasts. “How does it taste?”
Awa straddled him unhurriedly and allowed some of the gold liquid to drip on his mouth and chin. “Sweet,” the slave girl purred and let out a husky moan when Metu bit on that engorged sticky flesh, almost breaking his front teeth on the barbell.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
Other than that it was a great start to the night.
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“The door is locked,” a strange distant voice said. It carried over the left open large windows. Despite the morning chill as it had rained briefly during the night, it wasn’t that uncomfortable. Well, Metu’s cock was hurting a bit, his back felt funny from the acrobatics but Awa’s warm naked body shielded him from the elements.
A sticky layer of honey also helpful in that. Awa stirred waking up and relocated between his legs.
“I see a cracked open window,” another gruff voice replied in the meantime.
“Back or front?” a third asked.
“Use the front, we’re not felons Beluar,” the gruff voice replied. Well, that’s nice I suppose. “Climb up now, the sun is almost up. I don’t have all day!”
Huh? Metu thought opening his eyes, feeling drowsy. It was still relatively dark, the hour early.
“What?” Awa asked cupping his balls with a hand.
“I heard something,” Metu groaned when her mouth closed on his phallus.
Awa stopped. “Um?” She queried lips too full to form coherent words.
“Just do what you’re doing, it’s nothing,” Metu croaked and closed his eyes to relax at her ministrations.
“Sweet,” Awa murmured switching to her tongue.
“Make another passing,” Metu urged her and thought he heard a noise coming from the front of the villa.
He tried to concentrate but Awa was distracting him heavily and it wasn’t easy.
“Just open the gods darn door,” the gruff voice ordered from afar. “Else Alok will break it down. Are you lost son?”
“You’ll need a sledgehammer for that general. I could run to the warehouse to fetch one,” Alok replied in Imperial. What in all-hells is going on here? Metu wondered and then squeaked when Awa used her teeth to scrap at the tender skin.
Metu started breathing heavy, one fist clenched on the mattress the other hand cupping a small breast and head resting back on the pillow.
“Aww, there… work on that spot,” Metu groaned, tears in his eyes and through them he saw a blurry square-shaped face stooping over him.
What is this…?
“That him sir?” A rough male voice asked and Metu squealed, fear bringing him over the edge and into a powerful orgasm.
“Nesande’s fleshy tits,” the gruff voice from before grunted. “It’s too fucking early in the morning for this shite!”
“Aah,” Metu moaned miserably, more Zilan figures now appearing around his bed.
A face he recognized.
“Lord Onas?” Metu managed to say and the one-eyed scarred Zilan Council member shook his balding head –Onas insisted that wyvern fire was the cause of his baldness- disappointed.
“Who else could it be lad?” He asked gruffly.
Metu felt lightheaded and Awa raised her face, chin covered in his spilled seed.
“He’s busy. Come back later,” she warned them with as much formality as she could muster given the circumstances.
Lord Onas pursed his weathered mouth eyeing her.
“Nice hips and arse,” he finally said evenly. “Not much of a tit though and ye need something to grab onto. Right Beluar?”
“Affirmative. Not much sir,” Beluar droned instinctively. The sturdy Zilan had mostly white hair and wore an ancient hoplite cuirass over weathered dark leather pants and boots. Alok had a ranger’s outfit on, also weathered. Everyone was armed with swords and daggers.
Alok had a towel in his hand.
“Wipe them down,” Onas ordered. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Lord Onas!” Metu cried out to stop him, his eyes darting from one intruder to the next surrounding his bed. “What is the meaning of this early visit?”
“It’s not early,” Onas grunted. “Once ye get to be my age, you turn restless sure, but the sun is up lad. Dress up. We need to be in Hardir’s Port before sunset. Time is of the essence.”
Why would I…?
“Why?” Metu croaked and Onas glanced at the scowling Beluar. Alok was busy staring at Awa’s exposed buttocks as he had the better angle.
“Get him out of bed,” he ordered his man. “Dip him in the tub and then put some clothes on his skinny arse.”
“What about the girl sir?” Beluar asked and Awa made to protest but Alok stooped from behind her and touched a long dagger under her wet chin. So the slave stopped moving immediately.
“Lord Onas, this is outrageous,” Metu protested and tried to get up. “I’m the Monarch’s Castellan and his treasurer!”
Onas snorted, index finger covered in honey as he had dipped it in the left open half-empty urn. He slotted his long finger inside a gnarly mouth and licked it clean. Then the ancient Zilan smacked his lips and replied brusquely.
“You got fired and we’ve a ship to catch.”
“What?” A bewildered Metu muttered at the devastating news. Awa started crying equally shocked at his plight.
Onas grunted and signed for Alok to silence the slave and he did covering her mouth with the towel, wiping away some of the spillage in the process.
“Ten minutes,” Onas told Beluar. “If he’s not dressed and ready by then, wrap him in a clean sheet.”
“Aye sir.”
“Wait, where are you taking me?” Metu asked trying to get away from Beluar on the large bed. The Zilan unsheathed his Kopis with a scowl.
“I told you. Hardir’s Port and then we’re off for Rain-Minas,” Onas grunted his eyes on the struggling to breathe Awa. “That’s a good shave job between them legs,” he commented pursing his mouth.
“What’s there?” Metu asked and screamed when Beluar grabbed him by an ankle and then dragged him back towards the edge of the bed.
“A brief stop,” Onas replied curtly. “Afore Ani Ta-Ne. Seven minutes Beluar. You’re running out of time son. Stop all that fooling around.”
“Aye sir,” Beluar replied bodying Metu towards the bathtub. It was still filled with water.
Metu tried to fight him but the Zilan slapped him once across the face and then dropped him inside the cold water.
It was humiliating but humiliation isn’t lethal. So Metu could take heaps of it. He coughed up foul water trying to surface, tears in his smarting eyes.
“I’ll go with him!” Awa croaked, Alok’s grip muffling her voice.
“There are plenty of slaves in Ani Ta-Ne,” Onas grunted with a glare. “Only essential personnel is to make the trip!”
“She’s essential,” Metu gasped, blinking to clear his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Lord Onas asked a little amused with another glance at the slave.
“Yes,” Metu croaked and the Zilan Council member nodded.
“Dip her in the juice and then bag the girl too Alok. We’ll put her in the trunk of the carriage. Grab that sleeper as well to get this shit going,” he ordered and then stared at the soaked Metu warningly. “Five minutes lad.”
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Two hours later Metu sat across from Lord Onas inside a four-horse drawn carriage, Beluar next to him with Alok being the driver. Awa and Soto were in the large baggage compartment, which was thankfully empty. Also disturbingly though as they didn’t take any clothes or possessions with them.
“Lord Onas,” a disheveled Metu said and the ancient Zilan cracked his sole eye open, head still resting on the lip of the couch. “With all the respect my lord. I don’t understand.”
“Ani Ta-Ne is floundering,” Onas grunted a little annoyed for having to disrupt his nap to answer him. “The Monarch wants it up and running to boost morale and cut back on the expenses and so forth. Pick a reason, it doesn’t matter. He decreed the place to be ready before the year is over, so we have a lot of work to do and can’t be bogged down by sentimentality. ‘Get it done’, Garth writes. And thus it shall be done.”
Good grief.
“It’s a Cofol city,” Metu reminded him and Onas grimaced. He eyed Beluar and the Zilan grabbed Metu’s ringed ear hard. He squealed in pain but the Zilan brute didn’t let go.
“Please,” Metu begged them. “What did I do?”
“Let go of him,” Onas ordered and Beluar released the ear. “Listen up you little shit. You have been tasked to put that part of the empire on its feet again. You’ll whip, you’ll kick and drag their sorry arses into shape. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Whip and kick,” Metu repeated in a state of pain and confusion with Onas nodding him along. “Ehm, we’ve taken the city?”
“The city was ours. The port that is. Don’t give a dried up shite for the city, but hey the Monarch wants it working. Lai Zel-Ka is too far and Fu De-Gar too expensive. He picked you as a front but you’re not up to the task unsupervised. It is implied you’ll need help.”
The Permanent Council had news from Lord Garth, Metu thought and moved nervously on the couch with a glance at the scowling Beluar. When he returned his eyes on Lord Onas the ancient Zilan had closed his eye and was sleeping again.
“You’ve known Lord Onas long?” Metu asked politely the muscular Zilan.
“Served under him in the Phalanx.”
“You’re retired? You look so fit still!”
“Lost three toes in my right foot and can’t keep up,” Beluar explained gruffly.
“I didn’t notice,” Metu croaked.
“You want me to show you?”
“No, I believe you brave Beluar,” Metu said quickly. “Can we get Awa out of the trunk now?”
“It’s a big one. She’s fine.”
You callous monster! Metu thought angrily and then breathed out slowly.
“So what about Alok? Is he just a cutthroat of sorts?”
“Imperial Ranger, also retired due to poor eyesight. Works with the general. They are friends,” Beluar explained with a warning stare to cut back on the monikers.
“He seemed keen-eyed earlier,” Metu noted obliging him.
“He’s not blind to a nice pair of buttocks.”
Right.
“What am I supposed to do in Ani Ta-Ne?” Metu asked casually as he didn’t know how to take the news.
“You’ve been promoted,” Lord Onas rustled from his spot. “So you’ll rule in Ta-Ne in the king’s stead like a governor.”
“A Viceroy?” a startled Metu asked with shocked grin.
Onas opened his eye to glare at him. “Under my supervision. You know what this means?”
“I’m to report to you on my decisions?” Metu chanced the sudden promotion making the harrowing ordeal of getting fired and kidnaped from his home palatable all of a sudden.
Beluar had grabbed him by the ear again and this time the soft flesh almost gave, the ring tearing a bit at his earlobe. Metu screamed in pain and Lord Onas stooped across the couch, the carriage was big but the Zilan was a tall creature, to stare in his tearing eyes solemnly.
“You are to do what you’re told,” Onas warned him. “Smile while doing it to palate your gullible countrymen during this transition phase. Optics are not important to me but the Monarch is human so a different approach is needed here. I can understand that.”
“The ear…” Metu cried out miserably and Beluar eased a bit on his grip. “Please!”
“I’m sure you’ll do a good job,” Onas continued indifferently. “Your first act as… governor, is to declare the west side of Tani River, from Hippo’s Nest and all that forest there, up to the Imperial Watch plateau off limits to everyone.”
“There’s a road coming from Fu De-Gar and the coast right there!” Metu protested and then cried as Beluar pressed his steely fingers down on his abused ear.
“Permission will be given,” Onas added, “to some crews while work is done on infrastructure on the west side of the city facing the river and the port, which will also be off limits for everyone without one. Since we don’t have time to write down new stuff and the Monarch’s instructions were Spartan on the matter, we must assume Imperial decree is to be used to deal with any hiccups.”
“Hiccups?”
“Dissenters,” Onas rustled warningly. “Troublemakers and anti-Imperial cunts. There’s a small group of faithful that’ll become the base to rebuild the citizenry up. As a matter of fact your second act is to reinstate their status. We’ll have the names when we reach Ani Ta-Ne. They will live in the north districts after the non-citizens are cleared out of the premises. We’ll work on the details of his operation later. Space is needed, so space will be created.”
“What about the rest?”
“You mean those that don’t want us there?” Onas asked just to be sure they were on the same page. His tone letting Metu know that he found the idea of someone not wanting to be part of Wetull ludicrous.
Metu licked his lips and glanced at Beluar who had let go of his throbbing and a little torn ear. Pain was expected on each assignment, he thought dejectedly. A gift can be a snare and good news naught but a scheme to make you drop your guard.
In order to survive one needs to be capable of absorbing punishment and do what’s necessary.
“What will happen to them?” The former slave asked not because he was brave but because Metu wanted to know what he was supposed to do, or have done in his name. Lady Sen-Iv always reminded him that he wasn’t really free just because he’d been freed.
Life is full of paradoxes.
“We need plenty of workers,” Onas admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. “Yes the citizens help and that’s all good, but we have a lot of stuff to repair, public works done per the King’s orders and a road network in tatters. New ports and even housing. The list goes on and on. And I wasn’t talking about Ani Ta-Ne. The city there needs work as well.”
“Lots of slaves in Ta-Ne to pick from,” Metu murmured, he was repeating the Ancient Zilan’s words from earlier, their meaning now clearer. Lord Onas nodded once in agreement and then rested back on his nape. A moment later he was fast asleep despite the sound of the galloping horses and the turning wheels of their carriage.
> On the Eleventh (Minqe in Zilan) Month of the year 193 NC, the Kingdom of Wetull seized the large city port of Ani Ta-Ne that had been ravaged earlier that summer by Prince Nout’s forces and ‘returned’ it into Imperial fold. The latter part of Viceroy Metu’s words when he assumed command of the warn-torn city. Callous Viceroy Metu, an unknown very-educated former slave from Lai Zel-Ka was King Garth’s handpicked man for the job.
>
> The city’s fate had been decided as part of a secret agreement between Prince Atpa and King Garth, Lord Sopat and Lord Tsuparin. It marked the unofficial ‘end’ of the Three Sisters rebellion that had managed to become the deadliest war in history in less than a year even if it was by a few thousand. A record that lasted less than six months.
>
> It was an important deal as it freed the Khan’s hands to proceed with his invasion. With the Khanate fleet already on the move since the previous year, the Khan couldn’t back down and Atpa’s agreement came at an opportune moment for him even if he hated the outcome and refused to sign it officially, after cutting the messenger’s tongue out with his own hands in a fit of rage that is.
>
> Back in the Peninsula, Viceroy (or Governor) Metu set forth immediately stripping away land and titles from everyone not ‘deemed’ worthy of citizenship. The coveted status while it had been given more liberally to the refugees that had flocked to Goras earlier that year was to be a matter of contention in the years that followed. According to ancient Imperial Law, no one was allowed to own land inside the empire’s borders without being a citizen. Under this pretext thousands were stripped from their assets immediately, those voicing their disagreement promptly enslaved and thrown to work on the projects the Viceroy churned out every other week it seemed.
>
> Working as forced labor was one way for someone to win his freedom and citizenship back, but while the Peninsula slaves were a commodity that could be sold to a better or worse buyer in slave markets, Imperial slaves were not part of this economy and most were sent to Wetull to work there until they breathed their last. Lai Zel-Ka remained silent on the events in Ani Ta-Ne but Lord Tsuparin protested raising taxes to all Imperial vessels using his port. With his city flooded with refugees trying to escape Zilan rule the Cofol lord found himself unable to accommodate everyone. Still the city grew and so did Ani Ta-Ne.
>
> Two years after the Zilan had retaken control there, the port was rebuilt fully, three-quarters of the old city torn down and reconstructed in a more ‘spacious’ manner. The West District, the one closer to Tani River saw a new massive stone bridge raised over the old one and had turned into a strikingly rich neighborhood with huge villas and large avenues replacing houses, apartments and dark alleys where mostly Zilan and some of their human friends resided.
>
> The port and the south district up to the East Gates had been given to the ‘newly minted’ citizens. About twenty thousand had been christened in the first year alone and enjoyed their new accommodations. Another twenty thousand refugees had flocked to Goras and around forty or fifty had relocated to Fu De-Gar or even escaped into Khanate controlled territories, mainly Shao Na-Lan.
>
> It is believed that under Viceroy Metu’s reign almost thirty thousand people were enslaved but different sources give lower numbers. Ani Ta-Ne was perhaps the first truly crime-free city as according to Imperial Law criminals were killed on the spot swiftly if they weren’t citizens or enslaved to work out their debt if they were.
>
> The heavy taxation imposed on land caravans as retaliation forced Lord Tsuparin to lower his own tariffs on Imperial ships mooring in Fu De-Gar. (A vital stop for the merchants circumnavigating the peninsula using the fabled Lai Ze-Ka coastal nautical route that crossed part of the Haze Sea). This alleviated some of the tensions in the Three Sisters alliance, but soured Lord Tsuparin and brought him closer to Prince Atpa’s camp.
>
> While important developments in Greenwhale Peninsula happened during 194, the realm’s attention had turned to Jelin where the fate of Regia was to be decided in the mighty battle of the Lorian Fields at the start of the year and the Khan’s hordes famed crossing of the Shallow Sea. The old Horselord’s landings dwarfing those of the still ailing King Antoon’s three years earlier.
>
> The latter was still breathing (the fact is disputed by numerous sources) but as luck would have it and as if to aid King Garth go about his shadowy plans unopposed, he wouldn’t for much longer.
>
>
>
> Lord Sirio Veturius
>
> Circa 206 NC
>
> The Fall of Heroes
>
> Chapter L
>
> Addendum
>
> -Volume IV-
>
> The Onyx Wyvern’s rule
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> (Lost Sister, 1st Wine War & the rise of South Eplas Trading Company, abbreviated SETC. The ‘Rule of Three’ colloquially also known as the First Banking Act of 194 cosigned by the Bank of Trust, the Bank of Dinar and the newly formed then Bank of Goras.)
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> Winter 193/194- late fall of 194 NC
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