41. A slave contract

“Sit down, steppeman,” Azune asked him.

Was she talking to him like a slave or was it just his imagination? Nevertheless, Dashvara sat down in front of the desk, and instead of besieging the half-elf with questions, he waited in serene silence. As Sashava often said, sometimes silence is better than any question.

Azune squinted.

“The interview will be brief, don’t worry. You can quickly go back to sleep with the others after I’m done talking. I suppose you’d like to know a few details about Atasiag Peykat.”

Drumming with his fingers, Dashvara adopted an expression that more or less meant “since you’re offering it, speak up”. Azune wrinkled her nose.

“Good. What I’m about to tell you, you’ll have to keep to yourself. Don’t tell your companions. Atasiag Peykat is none other than Cobra. I thought it best to warn you. Atasiag is not to be identified in any way as the leader of the Dream Brotherhood.”

Baffled, Dashvara stopped drumming and raised an eyebrow. Cobra, eh? The Dazbon thief who had given him two denarii after sending him to retrieve a dagger from a filthy canal? Ah. Fantastic. Wonderful. The Xalyas had found a damned thief as their new master. He finally broke the silence.

“What does Cobra have to do with the Pearl Brotherhood?”

“He is our new patron. We founded an alliance between the two brotherhoods a few days after you embarked in Dazbon. It was the Supreme who decided this.” Azune remained inexpressive as she spoke these words. This alliance did not seem to fully satisfy her, Dashvara guessed.

He leaned against the back of his chair, which was quite comfortable, by the way.

“Hmm. An interesting alliance considering that the Brothers of the Pearl have good principles, unlike Cobra.”

“You are wrong about that,” Azune contradicted him. “Atasiag is also fighting the slave trade.”

“He’s a thief.”

Azune didn’t argue. After a few seconds of silence, she stood up.

“You see, steppeman. It so happens that Cobra and we have common interests: we act against the traffic of the Master, who is the one who owns all the slave trade on the whole eastern coast of the Pilgrim Ocean.”

“Mm. Really? This ‘Master’ is that powerful?”

Azune’s eyes turned cold, staring at an invisible point that Dashvara could not see.

“He is powerful, to a certain extent. At the moment, he has the official support of most of the Councilors, but some of the big families have been standing in his way for years now, and now the wind is starting to blow in our favor.” She paused for a moment and admitted, “Although, not just in our favor. At first glance, Titiaka seems to be the most united and stable city in the entire Federation, but in reality, it is far from it. There are divergent movements on all sides. The Unitarians, the Federates, the Indulgents… I myself am still a little confused after two years in the heart of the administration.”

Dashvara shrugged.

“Okay, and you’ve been chasing this man for three years and haven’t managed to kill him?”

He saw her smile almost imperceptibly.

“Before anything else, I would like to make it clear to you, Dash: you are not in the steppe here. The Master is surrounded by a few friends and subjects who are quite capable of replacing him and acting like him. Killing him would not solve anything. Our idea is to find all possible documents that prove the illegal activity of these slavers in Dazbon. With these documents, the Dazbon Senate will no longer be able to turn a blind eye.”

Dashvara shrugged.

“I understand. Why are you telling me all this, Azune? You want me to help you with your business, is that it?”

“Mmph.” Azune grinned mirthlessly and sat down with the agility of a feline. “No, steppeman. We are investigators, and you are a warrior. For now, we do not need your help. You are workers of Atasiag. And Atasiag Peykat is a citizen of Titiaka, and despite our common goals, he does not have the same… view on slavery as we do. You can count yourself lucky that we were able to convince him to take care of you.”

Dashvara suppressed a smile. That a republican who fought against injustice would use the term “workers” to refer to slaves left him with an odd aftertaste.

“Well,” he said in a casual tone. “To talk about more… personal matters, well, since you seem to be more talkative tonight, I’d like to ask you more about what’s been going on for the past three years. I’m talking about my people,” he explained. “I know that other Xalyas survived the attack on the Dungeon. So either the survivors are still in the steppe, or they were sold into slavery like us. What happened to them?”

Azune’s face darkened.

“Some were sold,” she admitted. “Several children and an old man. We didn’t track them in time. We learned too late that the children had been adopted, and from then on, it was impossible to locate them. The old man was taken by the University of Titiaka. From what Fayrah explained to me, he was a kind of spiritual master of your people.”

The Maloven shaard, Dashvara understood, seized. He didn’t know if he should be relieved to know that he was still alive or if he should cry when he realized how close to the abyss the Xalyas people were. And how long has it been, Dash, how long? Our people have been shrinking for generations. A century ago, there were more than two thousand of us. Then we were barely more than five hundred. And today less than fifty still survive. Here are your people, lord of the steppe. Now perform a miracle and resurrect them.

Azune shook her head, looking pained.

“We don’t know if there are others. As for the ten Xalya women you saved in those catacombs… Two are gone. And five were captured again by Arviyag at the home of a man named Shizur. We didn’t have time to go looking for them… He got ahead of us.” A flash of guilt passed through her eyes. “Some pirates rescued them. Now they live on Matswad Island. As far as I know, they are all fine. And, as you know, Aligra, Fayrah, and Lessi are with us.”

The news of the five Xalyas sold and lost on an island of pirates left Dashvara speechless for long seconds, his throat constricted. Of the seven, two were Alta’s cousins, one was Boron’s younger sister, another was Ged’s daughter… All were sisters of the Xalyas. And he, their lord, had betrayed them and Shizur. He had saved them and betrayed them. He didn’t even remember doing it. His heart choked with shame, he exhaled slowly and said:

“Thank you for taking care of Aligra, Fayrah, and Lessi.”

Azune’s expression flickered.

“Actually, I didn’t take much care of them,” she admitted. “Aligra belongs to the Brotherhood of the Pearl. Sheroda likes her a lot.” She cleared her throat and continued, “Fayrah and Lessi, on the other hand, are now wards of Atasiag Peykat. He has adopted them as his daughters.”

Dashvara bolted on his chair.

“What?!”

Azune gave him a warning look.

“Keep your voice down, Dash.” She straightened in her chair. “Remember that you are going to live in Titiaka as a worker, not a free man, much less a citizen. Your status is infinitely inferior to that of Fayrah and Lessi. Your own sister asked me to tell you that you should be patient and not let your… Xalya dignity get the better of you,” she smiled mockingly, but then she put on a stern expression when she added: “I will repeat it as many times as it takes: Atasiag Peykat is a landlord, and you and your people are under his control. You are not yet free, but you will be. And the only thing you have to do is do your job without deviating from it one inch. No deviations that might damage the prestige of your master. No scandal of any kind. Otherwise, Atasiag Peykat will send you back to the Border, understand? No escape attempts,” she added. “And no treason. Otherwise, you can dream of your freedom until you die. Rowyn and I may have forgiven you for what you did, Dash, but neither Sheroda nor Atasiag are so understanding. This time you cannot betray us.”

Dashvara felt his Eternal Bird quiver. He was unable to hold Azune’s gaze. He shrugged.

“I said that my life belonged to you: I will do whatever you tell me until you consider that I have paid my fault. I do not answer for my brothers.”

“Yes, you do,” Azune replied sharply. “You are their lord, right? And you know that it is right for them to help us. We have helped their people, and if they are patient, they will get their freedom when Atasiag deems it feasible. Tell them so.”

She put some papers on the table. Dashvara shook his head without answering. As if he was anyone’s lord. To force his brothers to give up running away was to behave like a slave driver in his turn. In any case, he had no power over them to force them to do anything.

“Put a cross in each box.”

The voice of the half-elf drew him out of his dark thoughts. He glanced curiously at the sheet of paper she was holding out to him.

“What is it?”

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“The essential rules that you will have to respect. This is a contract. Atasiag asked me to give it to you. He wants to make sure that you will cooperate voluntarily as a worker. He has some… apprehensions about introducing steppian warriors into his home.”

Dashvara let out a breath filled with sarcasm.

“This is ridiculous. I’m already marked. Whether I like it or not, I am his slave, and if I run away, the entire Federal Guard will be after me.”

“No, Dash. If you run away, I assure you that the greatest danger will not be the Federal Guard.” Azune’s eyes clearly reflected her threat. Dashvara shrugged again.

“I’m not surprised.”

“Put a cross in each box,” Azune insisted. “But first, read what it says and memorize it well. You will recite the contract to the others so that they learn it by heart as well. Orders from Atasiag.”

Dashvara glanced at the paper. There were four sentences. The first one said, «I voluntarily lend my services to the man who hires me, and I swear never to act against his wishes.» He huffed.

“I gave my life to the Pearl Brotherhood, not to that snake who—”

“Things are what they are,” Azune interrupted him. She sounded more and more exasperated. “Don’t be stubborn, steppeman. The two brotherhoods are allies, and we don’t have the power to afford twenty-three Xalyas. Atasiag does.”

“I wonder how he got so much power,” Dashvara quipped. He looked away from Azune’s glaring eyes and read the next sentence.

«I will not betray my master or my master’s allies, and I will treat anyone I come in contact with strictly according to social conditions, whether that person is known to me or not.»

“More or less the same tune,” he sighed. He continued to read:

«In case of treason, fault, or negligence on my part or on the part of one of my companions, I ask and demand that the due punishment be applied, whatever its nature, and I swear not to try to evade the aforementioned nor to interfere in the case where the fault is not mine.»

The last sentence was the crowning glory:

«I acknowledge that I am not acting under any coercion, blackmail, or pressure in agreeing to this contract».

Dashvara let out a nervous laugh.

“This snake is crazy. Not only does he take us as slaves, but he wants us to give him our consent.”

“Nonsense,” the half-elf replied. “He is only taking precautions and letting you know how things work. He fears that you will become more of a nuisance than a support, which could seriously harm our interests. We are walking on wires, Dash. There are secrets that could destroy us. For example, that Atasiag Peykat and Cobra are the same person.” She glared at him. “So… when you get up from that seat, I want you to start acting like a slave warrior going to Titiaka to join a master he doesn’t know. After all, that’s the plain truth.” She pointed to a quill near an inkwell. “The crosses.”

Dashvara watched her for a few seconds. Tension shone in her eyes. It was clear that these three years had not been good for her nerves. Come to think of it, what was more nerve-wracking, fighting monsters with clear intentions to protect innocent people, or fighting greedy slavers who waged wars up and down the coast to buy prisoners and enslave them?

And when I think that my sister is involved in this whole thing… As Cobra’s daughter, no less. Dashvara exhaled loudly and took the pen, hating himself for that, but what else could he do?

“Just curious… What if I refuse to put these crosses on?” he inquired.

She replied without hesitation:

“Then we’ll send you back to the Border, most likely. Atasiag needs a group of loyal mercenaries, not a group of insurgents.”

“Mercenaries, huh? And where’s the gold in that?”

Azune rolled his eyes.

“You will want for nothing. A mercenary works for a reward. The reward, in this case, will be freedom. You can count yourself lucky that we got you out of the Border. Besides,” she added, perhaps seeing that Dashvara was still hesitating, “what sense would it make to turn against an ally, Dash? I bet he only wrote that contract to ease his conscience in case of betrayal. I believe he makes a similar contract with all the members of his Dream Brotherhood. I assure you that, when the time comes, he will not refuse to give you your freedom. You choose: the Contract or the Border.”

Dashvara was already writing crosses before she had finished her last sentence. He left the quill on the desk like a burning firebrand. When he looked up, Azune was smiling, and on her previously tense face, there was now an expression of relief. He saw her stand up, walk around the desk, and bow to him, whispering:

“I’ll add one more clause just for you: since you’re going to live with Atasiag, I want you to observe his actions and let me know if you see anything suspicious. Just in case.”

Dashvara nodded. So the Poisoned-woman didn’t trust the snake. It was predictable.

“Make sure all your companions know the contract like the back of their hand,” the half-elf added. “A grave error could be your doom. And both Rowyn and I would be deeply saddened if that were to happen.”

Dashvara gave her a thoughtful look. Her threats puzzled him more than they frightened him.

“I believe you,” he said. “Can I ask you a question? What happened to that caustic humor you used to have? Did you lose it in some Dazbon canal?”

Azune raised an eyebrow.

“Do you miss it?”

“Well, yes,” Dashvara admitted.

Azune smiled, and her brown eyes twinkled teasingly.

“I assure you I didn’t lose it. You know? I admit that, at first, I wasn’t very convinced to get you out of the Border. You almost got us all killed and…” she breathed in, and her face darkened. “That cursed day, Arviyag’s acolytes killed the Supreme’s two most trusted friends and came close to killing her, too.” She turned a bright gaze toward him. “I’m warning you that I’m not going to give you another chance. I have a good heart, but I am who I am. I don’t forgive easily either. And if there’s one thing I dislike as much as assassins, it’s traitors.”

Dashvara shook his head in disbelief.

“Do you really think that, if you had been in my place, you wouldn’t have spilled the beans?”

Azune’s slanted eyes narrowed to mere slits. Her voice sounded very cold as she hissed:

“I wouldn’t even if my eyes had been gouged out, steppeman.”

Hmm. Valiant Republican. Say that again when your whole body is convulsing under the torture thimbles… Dashvara concealed his skepticism and abandoned his seat.

“I guess you told me everything you wanted to tell me.”

Azune opened her mouth, and suddenly her mask of coldness broke.

“Dash, I would like to…” She bit her lip, and to Dashvara’s surprise, she murmured quietly, “Sorry. Rowyn is right. It’s not fair that I blame you for everything. It’s just that sometimes I… Demons, whatever.” She paused with a grunt and made a curt hand gesture under Dashvara’s perplexed gaze. Before he had time to answer, she resumed firmly: “Just one more question, steppeman, and I’ll leave you alone. Who is this drow that accompanies you?”

Dashvara stared at her. Was the question casual or did she know who Tsu was? He bet on the first option: it didn’t make sense for Azune to know the role that Tsu had played in Dazbon. So he simply answered:

“He’s a friend.”

“Reliable?”

Dashvara gave a half-smile.

“I would put my heart in his hands.”

“Oh.” Azune took an amused look. “Then, fine. Don’t let him get lost either.” She put the bronze mask back on and pointed to the door with an authoritative police secretary’s gesture: “Falfir will show you out. Good night, soldier.”

Dashvara bowed his head curtly.

“Good night.”

“Your Honor,” Azune said in a suave tone. Dashvara huffed but repeated civilly:

“Good night, Your Honor.”

He was already heading for the door when Azune observed candidly:

“You should be a little more servile. It’ll save you some trouble.”

Dashvara hissed without turning around.

“A Xalya is only servile when he wants to be. Your Honor.”

He opened the door and found Falfir leaning against the wall at the end of the hall. The elf seemed to be an acquaintance of Azune’s, and seemingly, he had not given in to the temptation to eavesdrop. He led him back to the dormitories without a word, and as soon as Dashvara reached his bed, he left him in the dark again. Dashvara began to undress with slow movements. No sooner had he laid down than Zorvun slipped out of bed and approached.

“Well?” he murmured in Oy’vat.

Dashvara had seen that most of the Xalyas were fast asleep, but of course, the captain could not resist and wanted to stay awake until he returned. Pulling up the covers, he leaned his head against the pillow, and tired, closed his eyes.

“Well, Captain, the lord of the steppe has just willingly accepted his own slavery.”

There was silence.

“Who was the lady?”

“The official. Don’t say her name,” he warned, opening his eyes. “From now on, she is called ‘Your Honor’,” he spat in Common Tongue.

Kneeling by the bed, Zorvun shook his head in the darkness.

“So they don’t intend to free us?”

“Of course they do. But, as in any contract worthy of the worst snakes in this world, it’s not specified.”

“Mmph. What does this contract say?”

Zorvun’s voice betrayed his concern. Dashvara raised a hand and patted him on the shoulder.

“There’s nothing we don’t already know. I’ll tell you all tomorrow at lunch. That way you’ll sleep more peacefully.”

The captain ground his teeth dully.

“To hell with peace and quiet. What does this contract say?”

You wish… Dashvara exhaled softly, summed up the encounter, and repeated the four sentences, translating them into Oy’vat. He felt as if he had etched them into his retina. Zorvun was silent for a full minute. What could he be thinking?

“Well,” he then whispered. “The question is, what does Atasiag intend to do with us, and what does he want us to do to gain that damned freedom? We’ll be back on the steppe, Dash. I can feel it. I feel that we will come back. And we’ll get even with those damned murderers,” he muttered. “We are already only a handful of Xalyas lost in Hareka. But we still have dignity, son. We can still do justice.”

Dashvara felt chilled. After three years of wondering if Captain Zorvun knew about Vifkan’s revenge, Zorvun himself had just confirmed it. Or at least it sounded like confirmation.

He reached out to listen to the steady breathing in the room. Some of them were not sleeping.

Do justice, Zorvun? Who knows if you’re not just like my father after all. He breathed in and out.

“You may be right, Captain,” he admitted. “We just have to hope that Atasiag won’t ask us to lift a mountain to earn our freedom.”

“Well, don’t be pessimistic,” the captain laughed quietly. “Even if he asked us to lift a mountain, the Xalyas are capable of anything. Don’t doubt it.”

Dashvara nodded and smiled.

“I don’t doubt it, Captain. I just tend to be suspicious of strangers and their promises.”

“Mm.” It seemed to him that the captain was smiling back. “You do well to be wary, son. As that old shaard said, trust a savage more than a civilized man. The savage attacks you from the front, and the civilized from the back.”

Dashvara smiled.

“Maloven is in Titiaka, Zorvun. He was sold as a slave and is now at the University of Titiaka.”

Zorvun raised his head.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

The captain shook his head, laughing softly.

“This old shaard. More than once I thought he was dead, he’s so old. He’s almost twice my age,” he muttered to himself. “He must be over a hundred and thirty, if I’m not mistaken.”

“One hundred and thirty-one,” Dashvara asserted. “He came back from Dazbon at one hundred and eight. The year I was born.”

“And he was already teaching me when I was a kid,” laughed Zorvun. “That man will bury us all.”

He almost did it already, Dashvara thought. He smiled grimly. And maybe he will.

The captain patted him on the shoulder before returning to his bed. He heard someone clearing their throat and turning over on their mattress. It was Zamoy. After a silence, Dashvara thought about the half-finished card game. If it hadn’t been so interesting, they probably would have forgotten about it, but with bets so well placed… He smiled. Tomorrow they would finish it, he thought.

A small treacherous voice then infiltrated his head and whispered to him: I voluntarily lend my services… I will not betray my master or my master’s allies… In case of treason, fault, or negligence… I ask and demand that the due punishment… He laughed internally. This pantomime was one of the most comical and absurd things he had seen in his life. Did Cobra really need to ask for his consent to do whatever he wanted with his life? He had done it to ease his conscience, according to Azune. Oh, come on. But what conscience could a thief have?

Of course, Cobra was also fighting against slavery. Or at least against the trafficking of prisoners of war. But he missed something in this story. All the bandits he had known in the steppe, in addition to being thieves, did not hesitate to kill if necessary, and in any case, they would never have had the idea to participate in a project as altruistic as that of putting an end to a slavery scoundrel. Either he is not as much of a bandit as it seemed to me, or he is deceiving us all for some reason, he concluded.

After several hours of turning over the same thoughts in his head, he got tired, sat up, picked up the belt he had dropped on the floor, took out some belsadia leaves, and started to chew them. A few minutes later, he fell asleep like an old dog.