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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Fairy Tales & Fantasy
- Subject: Adventure
- Published: 06/01/2018
Good Help is Hard to Find - Part 2 of 2
Born 1956, M, from Orlando/FL, United StatesI heard rustling footsteps coming through an open doorway, like someone dragging a bag. I opened my eyes and saw I was still lying next to the fireplace in the Reluctant Wizard. After the fiasco that was the Duke's dinner last night, I had come back here so fit to be tied I did something I seldom do, drank myself into a coma. My head was sore, my body ached, my vision was cloudy, my bladder was ready to explode, and my head pounded like one of the Trolls was beating on it.
"Michael, are you awake?" I heard through my fogged brain.
I blinked a few times, trying to get the world into some degree of focus when I saw a tall, thin, older gray-haired woman in a flowing white flaxen gown standing at the door that leads into the kitchen. After a few seconds, the figure came into focus and I recognized her.
"Madia?" I queried.
"Yes, Michael. I wanted to talk to you. Abbrigal told me what happened before he went to sleep."
I slowly got to my feet just as my stomach started to feel like I swallowed a paint mixer. I was not sure which orifice was going to cut loose first, but something was definitely coming out. I started to move toward the back and the privies.
"They called Abbrigal and you cowards," she said like she was afraid to speak the word.
"That and a few other choice words, or at least the Earl of Aswar did before I put my fist through his face. That action did not endear me with the court. When Abbrigal mentioned that under the law, any civilian who had fought in five campaigns was free from further call-up and that I had seven campaigns, the others shouted him down as disloyal. That made me so mad that I walked out. When the gate guard tried to stop me, I put my hand on my sword and asked where he wanted his body parts sent. That got me out of the palace and I came back here and drank myself into oblivion." There was a large gurgling noise from my belt and I grabbed my stomach and moved past Madia with a short word of apology before I made it to the outhouse and left fly from all ends at once.
After managing to part with what seemed to be half my body mass in a variety of putrid liquids, I walked back into the bar and sat down. Madia brought me a small cup of wine with a white powder floating on the surface; Abbrigal's old medicine for hangovers. I took it with a nod and downed it in two gulps. After some more churning of the bowels, I started to feel almost as good as a zombie.
"Sorry," I muttered. "You think I know by now I can't reason with these people like I do with you and Abbrigal. I hope I didn't make things worse for you."
Madia chuckled, "Before you came here, it was Abbrigal who used to raise the old Duke's ire. I am used to it and I am far too old to worry about what the court thinks of us now."
"I just do not understand it," I said in exasperation. "You think they'd be happy to see me go. The court hates my guts because their inflated egos will not swallow having an almost slave lead troops rather than them. Now I am a traitor for asking to go.”
"They are frightened, Michael," Madia said in her low voice. "Deep down inside, they know their worth and it is not much. They fear what will happen if they actually have to command against real troops. They fear the garrison soldiers and the Erin levies because they know these troops have no confidence in them and they are more likely to put an arrow in their backs rather than follow their orders. They fear the tradesmen because they fund the government and want more say in how things are run. They feared the other desert savages to the south who hate anything civilized and seek to burn the city after they loot it clean. Finally, they fear you because you walked in here and did what they could not do despite their training from birth; that is to inspire men and then lead them into battle. Men who are afraid will lash out at anything that even remotely seems to be a threat."
What she said made a good deal of sense, something almost totally lacking in this place. "Well, it doesn't matter, not for me anyway. Unless it is a national emergency, I am now a barkeep." Then it hit me. "Bar!" I shouted. "I have some slaves to buy."
With that, I jumped up, kissed Madia on the cheek and bounded up the stairs. Abbrigal's powder had cured my hangover like sunshine after a summer rain; I felt refreshed and ready to go. I raced out of the bar back into the square, which was already starting to fill up. I moved over to the entrance to the dungeon. Two guards stood there; as I approached, they crossed their halberds in front of my face barring my access.
"I am Nam-Gal," I said. "I am allowed access to the place at will."
"We know who you are," the older guard bleated out. "The Duke has revoked your palace privileges. You no longer have access to the palace. Leave or I will place you under arrest."
I felt like saying you and what other ten guys, but I saw the look on this face. He looked hurt, angry, and afraid. He looked like a kid after I just beat his puppy. Why was he this angry with me?
"Very well, guardsman, I will leave. I will talk to the Duke about my privileges."
"You can talk to the new Army commander about it, Simon de Arnascio," the guard said, and almost glared at me.
I started to say something and stopped. Now I knew the problem. The Duke placed his younger brother in charge of the troops. I also knew what a waste of DNA the Duke's younger brother was. Since he was born to command, he never actually felt the need to learn what he should do with his troops except shouting orders to the peasant scum. Salla Guilmick was a genius compared to him.
After a few seconds of trying to find a witty answer for his concern, all I could muster was a feeble "I am sorry." With that, I turned and walked back into the main square. My new status presented another problem. I wanted to talk to the Trolls before I bought them. Now I could not. That meant a small change in plans. I adjusted my sword belt so I wore both the swords on my back and waited. I found an open bench by the courthouse, went over, and sat down.
The square filled up fast. Mostly with people who were little more than slaves themselves: farmers, small merchants, shop workers, apprentices, and the odd rancher. All dressed in little better than rags and simple flaxen shifts. They were here to see the free show, which is all the entertainment they could afford. These people were the so-called backbone of society, the salt of the earth, without whom everything else would crash and burn. If you all believe that crap, I have some beachfront property in Kansas I'd like to sell you. The government here, just like the one back home, treats these people with all the kindness and respect given a leper. Most of them made, maybe, two to three dozen Kudims a year. Most were ignorant, dirt poor and the government was happy to keep it that way. The poor and the stupid don't give you any problems and this government had all the problems it needed already.
The crowd roared, jeered, and threw the usual rotten vegetables at the prisoners as they were lead onto the stage. They mostly did it for kicks. Their shouting put the fear of whatever Gods the Jadar believe existed into the captives. The guards had to drag some on to the stage. 'Vae Victis' as Brennos said when the Gauls sacked Rome in the Fourth Century BC. Some things never change.
The older Jadar women with family sold first. I took no special interest in any of them until the Jadar woman I knew came up. I had tasted her food in our march back from the desert and she could cook. She had two young daughters so I decided to buy all three of them. Yea I know it is an extra expense, and the girls were far too young to be useful for much, but the mother would be a better worker if she knew some slob son of a guild master was not raping her daughters nightly.
"Ten Kudims for all three," I yelled out. It was a low price, and I was willing to pay ten times that, but I learned never to tell anyone what you want in this town. It is one of the surest ways not to get it.
"Fifteen Kudims," one of the Moors spoke up.
"Twenty," a cloth guild master shouted.
At this point, I shut up and saw how the trading went, the Moor gave up at thirty-five, and then I yelled, "forty."
"Forty-two," the Guild master answered, looking at me curiously. He was wondering what I wanted with them.
"Forty-five," I answered.
The Guild master shrugged his shoulders and raised both hands over his head, the sign that he was done. The slave master counted five and clapped his hands. The woman and girls were mine. I walked up to the platform and told the slave master to have them brought to my new place. I then walked over to the mother and children. She knew who I was and I imagined the terrors going through her mind wondering what I had in store for her and her daughters. I had to stop that immediately. The best way to get someone's confidence is to be straight with them right from the start. A trick Abbrigal used on me. As I approached, the woman got down on her knees and pulled her children to the floor.
"Get up," I told them in Common.
The mother was confused but got up although she still would only look at my feet.
"You can look at me, and so can your daughters. I bought you as a cook for my bar. I bought your daughters so you will know where they are at night and will work well for me. Do not worry; I am not one of those who enjoys the company of children at night."
I let that sink in for a second before continuing. "Under Kessian Law, as battle captives, you are all slaves for five years. After that, it is up to me to decide what happens to you. I will tell you what is going to happen. I am opening a bar and I need a cook. I tasted your food on the journey from the desert, and it is good. If you cook well for me, do not try to run away, steal from me, or try to cut my throat, after five years I will set all of you free. After that, if you want to stay, I will pay you a decent wage, and I will see your children receive lessons so they can read and write. Until then, they can help clean the bar. I will demand nothing more of you than your cooking."
She was bewildered; I was doing this fast and hard partly because I do not like to mince words and partly to keep her mentally off balance so that she sees my offer as her only option. "There is no place for you to escape to, your men are dead and your camps destroyed. You know this because I destroyed them. You know what life is like living in the desert alone with children. You would all be dead within a month. Also, if you do run away, I will find you and sell you all to the salt miners. They will not treat you nearly as well as I will. That is my offer to you. I tell this to you because I want you to know that I will do is what I say I will do. Behind my kitchen, there is a new outbuilding. It is yours. Right now, there are only blankets there, but I will try to make your living there bearable. Do you understand me?"
She looked disorientated for a few seconds before stammering out, "All you want is cooking?"
"Yes, that is all I want," and I placed emphasis on all. She was not unpleasant to look at, but my interests were elsewhere. I was giving her one of the best deals in her life and could only hope she was smart enough to see it.
She thought for about fifteen seconds before she nodded. "I understand," she muttered. "I will not run away."
"Good, they will bring you to my place. Behind the outbuilding, there is a small walled off courtyard near a well. You can wash yourself and the children there away from prying eyes. I will see about clothes for you and your children tomorrow."
With that, I turned and walked away giving her no chance to argue or talk to me. I heard a child call out, "bye," before her mother hushed her. I smiled and walked to the guard who was in full chain mail wearing a short sword and carrying a thrusting spear. All sold slaves are given a guard until they were taken to the home of their new owners. This was because under Kessian law, you did not pay for a slave until the state delivered them to you, and the Duke made damn sure he got every copper penny that was coming to him. I walked up to him and asked, "You know my new bar I am building in the commercial block?"
"Yes, Nam-Gal." he said coolly. Here was obviously another person not happy with my new choice of careers.
"In the back, there is an outbuilding, take the woman and children there," I ordered him and then gave him three silver coins.
"Yes, Nam-Gal," he spat out. He turned and gathered the woman and children and started toward the edge of the square. I walked back towards my bench only to see the Cloth Guild master, who had been bidding against me, sitting there. He looked at me eyeing him sitting in my spot.
"Seemed a fair exchange," he said.
I took a deep breath, muttered, “Agreed,” and continued standing.
I spent nothing more since I got what I wanted. It took the morning and all afternoon, but they managed to sell off most of the captives. Those slaves not sold today became the Duke's property and would live out their short miserable lives in the mines. About a third, mostly women with weaving skills, the Clothing Guild members purchased. They would be set free under long-term contracts to make clothing since slaves cannot work in the guilds. The noble families purchased many of the younger, single, and better-looking girls for housework. A second and unmentioned use of these women was as 'practice', as the term goes, for the younger males of the household. One of the results of this 'practice' is more free slaves for the household. Those without skills or good looks, the salt miners brought. They would go south and would spend their lives making salt from seawater or underground mining salt deposits. I kept a running total in my head and estimated about forty thousand kudims were spent. Figuring each kudim is about a tenth of an ounce of gold, the Duke made about four million bucks selling a thousand women and children into lives of servitude. That would be more than enough to fund the expedition into the desert and the war against the Trolls, so the Duke was making out like a bandit. Who says war does not pay.
You probably are wondering by now how I, a guy that grew up in New Jersey, could take part in any of this or even stomach it. After all, I am a citizen of America, freest country in the world. I should be mortified. I should speak up. I should care. Well, I don't. The short answer is in two parts. First, exactly what could I do about it; get up on a soapbox and preach the revolution? First off, Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov I am not. I would have lasted about ten seconds before becoming an arrow magnet. From what little historical information available, slavery has existed in Kesswell and this world as far back as anyone can remember. Also, remember it was only 150 years ago, we gave up this lucrative practice ourselves. The second and more important reason why slavery exists is that the economy of Kesswell depended on it, same as the south before the Civil War. Slaves are used for domestics, miners, and the farm hands that keep everybody fed and working in Kesswell. As the money goes, so goes the morality. Slavery makes money for lots of people. Those people control most of the rest of the money. All that money buys influence and power and that is why it continues. Therefore, I watch and try not to get ground up in the political morass.
The last of the Jadar slaves sold after sunset, as they brought out torches to light up the stage. It was then my buddy Salla Guilmick stood up in front of the crowd and said that the Trolls would be sold next. It amused me to see that right after his speech heavy crossbowmen took up positions on the roof of the barracks and palace. There was also a troop of heavy house cavalry drawn up at the end of the square blocking the entrance to the palace. Maybe Salla was not quite as stupid as I thought, but then I have been wrong before. I also noted that the square was very quickly emptying. I was not the only one who lacked confidence in the town guard. Then, one at a time, the Trolls were taken out, heavily chained so they could move only about half a stride, and then chained to flimsy wooded posts that would maybe, hold them for a few milliseconds. By now, only about two dozen people were in the square, mostly from amusement to see who would be stupid enough to buy these creatures. There were a few of salt miners present who surrounded themselves with their own personal guards. Druallen came out fifth, I made a motion to him that things were ok, I think, and waited. Salla got up and made the formal announcement.
"We are going to auction off these Trolls. The Duke has bid me announce that anyone who buys them will be responsible for them once they leave the main part of the city. We will take no responsibility for anyone's safety with these prisoners. If they are not sold today, they will be taken to work in the Duke's iron mines. Now, does anyone want to bid on these slaves?"
"Yes," I shouted out. "One hundred kudims for all of them delivered to my new bar."
You could have heard a pin drop anywhere in the square. People looked at me with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and outright horror.
"Are you sure, Nam-Gal?" Salla squeaked.
"Quite sure, Salla Guilmick, you and the others should not worry; I do not intend to keep them in town."
"And if they escape, they will murder us in our sleep," one of the well-dressed courtiers spoke out.
"If they escape and have any brains, they will be back in the mountain highlands before you wake up in the morning," I answered. "Trolls are big, they are ferocious, they are strong, but they are not stupid. If they hang around here, they are dead. Half a dozen crossbow bolts and they will feed the buzzards like anyone else. I make this promise to all who can hear me. If any of these creatures escape and remain in Kesswell, I will personally deliver them to the Duke's iron mines, or personally deliver them to the underworld. So you can have your slave women protect you at night because these creatures will not harm you."
I heard a few chuckles from the Moors. The courtier, who was a Baron of some minor land outside town did a slow burn and walked away. I saw both Druallen and Druilli translating as I spoke. I looked around. No one seemed interested in offering a counter bid.
"If there are no other bids, I claim these slaves," I called out.
Everyone seemed perfectly happy for me to handle the Trolls and likewise take the risk of getting pounded into Foie Gras. "Bring them to my new bar, I ordered and walked out of the square like I owned it.
I walked back to my bar slowly hearing the pounding feet and dragging chains of my most recent acquisitions coming up behind me. It is amazing how fast the street clears out when twelve quarter ton, savage, man-eating masses of green flesh follow you home. I walked up the porch stairs and there at the back of the main room behind a homemade crooked table sat two persons, an older couple. Abbrigal and Madia each were drinking a mudee of my own homebrew.
"Help yourself," I said.
"We did," Madia said. "You know Michael when you said you were not a brew-master, you were not lying. This pale ale is awful."
"Thank you," I said. "My Trolls will be here soon so if you are excitable, I suggest you leave now."
"I would not miss this for the world," Abbrigal said, with a mustache of white ale foam on his face and beard. "And by the way, the ale is not awful as my dear sister says, but I wouldn't serve it to a pig."
"Thank you, my old friend, for your stunning vote of confidence," I replied and took a mock bow.
Then you could hear it, in the ground, the low, deep, seismic rumbling of twenty-four large feet hitting the ground together. I heard the wood creak as the Trolls marched up onto my porch and through my doublewide doorway. I figured that if the steps didn't break now, they never would. Much to my surprise, they didn't. About fifty guardsmen led a dozen large green creatures in chains. I noted Salla Guilmick decided not to come. By the time they all managed to get into my bar, it was full. I was glad the chairs and bar were not installed yet. I had the Trolls all put over near the staircase. I then motioned for the lead guard to give me the shackle keys and then told him his men could all leave. I saw a couple of them make the double-handed prayer to Malduke that people made if someone was going to die. No doubt, it was for my benefit. As soon as the guards were all gone, I threw the keys to Druallen.
"I would like Druallen and Druilli to translate what I am going to say to the rest of you. Before I set you free, I want your promise that you will not harm anyone here or in this town tonight. You will understand after we talk. I need you all to hear me out since all of our lives depend on it," I said flatly. I let that sink in for a minute before adding, "I mean that sincerely, all of our lives do depend on hearing what I have to say. In the meantime, you can unlock your leg irons. Do I have your word?" I asked.
The largest Troll looked right at me and started to grunt, growl and speak words in a language I had no clue about. It went on for a few seconds before he stopped and then he started laughing. I looked to Druallen who translated.
"That is Frodallen, our leader," he said in passable Common. "He says anyone who would be alone with twelve Trolls with just himself, an old man and an old woman is either very wise, or very brave, or very stupid, and he wants to know which one you are. You have our word no harm will come to you for now."
"Thank you," I said. "I will get right to the point. The reason I bought you is simple. I need help, and you need a home and together we can solve each other's problems. The reason I am setting you free is that I could not expect to keep you locked up. You are all too big and too powerful for anyone to control against your will. This is not bravery on my part, it is simple sense." Maybe a little sincere flattery would put them at ease.
I let Druallen translate that and noted grunting acceptance. Frodallen then started muttering in what sounded to me as grunts and growls but now that I listened to it, I could hear sounds, inflections, stops, and pauses. It was a language they spoke, just not one I could comprehend. Then Druallen spoke up.
"Frodallen and the rest of us want to know how we can help each other."
"That part is also simple," I said with a grin. "To the south of the city about half a day's ride is the Alos River. It is black from all the rich sands that wash down from the mountains. No one lives there, yet it is the best farming land in the area. No one lives there because, first, the Jadar used to raid that close to the city. That is no longer a problem since I just killed off the Jadar and sold the rest into slavery." I stopped and let that get translated.
"Du sat, no bas coul dutaln Dan-Dal," is what I thought I heard Frodallen say.
"We know you are Nam-Gal and you killed the Jadar." Druallen translated.
"The second problem with this land is that it is heavily wooded. It would take some time for humans to clear the trees. I think a dozen Trolls could do it in a season with no problem. The last item is that it is far away from the city fortifications and people are afraid of bandits and other thieves that are in the area. As a result, anyone who has tried to farm the land has ended either as a failure or as a corpse. I seriously doubt that any bandits will bother a dozen Trolls and none will do it more than once. If you farm the land, you will be able to grow your own food, build your own houses. The hills nearby are also full of iron ore and other minerals you could mine. Smart miners could extract them and sell them in the city. You could live out there and form a colony with other Trolls. You would be outside Kessian law, but the Duke keeps a close eye on this land. Once it improved, you could send for others of your tribe. The land is fertile enough to support maybe a hundred of your kind with surpluses."
"I have a question," Druilli asked. Her Common was more broken than her brother’s but understandable. "We get to farm, we get to mine, what do you get out of this? Humans do not help anyone out of the goodness of their hearts."
"Especially this one, my dear," Abbrigal added.
"That is true," I told her. "Do not think I am giving this to you because I want to be best friends with the Trolls. I will get several things out of this. First, this building is going to become a bar soon and I stink as a brew-master. If you can stand it, you can try my ale and see for yourself. One of you is a good brew-master and I need the help making beer, ale, liquor, and some of that Troll liquor I heard so much about. The second thing is that I need a secure supply of grain, cattle and other farm goods. You can provide it to me. I will buy your excess grain each year. Oh, I know there will not be much the first couple of years, but that land can grow a forest of grain. I will buy it from you at a fair price. If you can find a better price, I will let you come into town and sell it as long as I get first chance to bid on it."
I did not mention how a dozen Trolls coming into the grain market would go over with the locals. I would imagine it be something between a Marx Brothers movie and the Normandy Invasion.
I went on. "If you accept my offer, you get to live long and maybe prosper. I also get to prosper. I think this is about as good an offer as you are going to get unless you are looking forward to a career mining the Duke's iron as slaves."
More grunts from one of the two younger Trolls from the Nultdul Clan. I saw him bend over and pick up an unused wooden beam from the floor. In his green massive hand, it looked like a toothpick. He said something that sounded like "ducan, does, tabla, nico", and then I lost it completely until Druallen again translated.
"Oulsallen says what is to keep them from saying yes and then leaving the first time you turn your back."
"Nothing," I told him. "You can leave anytime you want. Under the law, you are my slaves for five years, but I know there is no way I can enforce that outside the city. However, let me make this point very clear to all of you. I will not go after you if you escape. However, if you harm anyone in Kesswell, I will hunt you down myself and I meant exactly what I said about delivering you to the Duke's mines or to a grave."
Druallen translated, and as he finished Oulsallen threw the 2x4 straight for my head and started to charge forward. I had expected it. My old training cut in. The wooden beam seemed to slow down in flight in the second of time it took it to cross the thirty feet of space between Oulsallen and my skull. I stepped back, pulled out my Katana and sliced the beam in half as it went by my head. I had the sword back in my scabbard before both pieces of wood hit the floor. Then I turned and looked at the oncoming green hulk and smiled broadly. He was coming on and I had my hand on my sword for another quick draw. I heard Frodallen bark something loud enough to shake the walls and Oulsallen pulled up still ten feet from me.
"If you all rush me together you can probably kill me," I bellowed out. "You can also kill the old man and woman, but I guarantee most of you won't live to leave this bar. The rest of you will be dead before morning. That is no boast. If you think about it for a second, you will know why."
"He is no ordinary soldier," I heard Abbrigal's normally reserved voice call out like a ticked off Marine DI. It was only then I noted he was standing with his staff up. Madia was standing and had three throwing knives at the ready. "He is Nam-Gal, and there is a reason why he was selected to lead the Duke's guards in the wars. He is as vicious a killer as you will find in this town. He is also a Newcomer. If you trade with the Amazons, you know what a Newcomer is; only Nam-Gal was a fighter before he came here, not afterward."
I let Druallen and Druilli translate all of that. Then there was some hushed discussion among them. Oulsallen slowly backed away from me with his eyes rigidly glued to my person. I caught one or two of them looking at me as if sizing me up like a soon-to-be-dead duck, but I distinctly heard Frodallen articulate perfectly the word Newcomer. Finally, they backed off up and Druallen spoke for the group.
"We know about Newcomers to our world. They say they move faster than the eye can see and can kill a person before they know they are dead. We see this is true with you. You have given us much to discuss among ourselves and we want to do this alone. Is there a place we can go to be private?"
For a group of so-called blood-curdling raving savages that kill for kicks and then eat their enemies, this was about as good as it was likely to get. I shrugged and went on, "You can go out back through what is going to be my kitchen. I see you are dirty. From my own experience, I know a few days in the Duke's dungeon while livable does not promote clean living. There is a well behind the building; you can wash there. I do not know what Trolls wear but there are some sheets upstairs, I will get them and you can make clothing out of them. One other thing, I also do not know Troll customs, but women do not march around town with no tops. Men do not walk around with mostly no bottoms. I suggest you cover your breasts and most of your posteriors." I stopped for a second to let Druallen translate that. There was no reaction, I don't think the Trolls cared if they walked around 'au-natural' or not.
I decided it was time to end this. "If, after your discussion, you agree to my offer, I will spend tomorrow buying supplies and the following day we will go to the new farm. If you choose to leave, I will not stop you, but remember what I said about hurting anyone in Kesswell."
"We will consider all you said," Druallen said, almost in a most respectful tone. "If you will bring us the cloth and some needles and thread we will make clothing for ourselves."
"I will see what I have, but it will be tomorrow before I can get anything major," I repeated.
With that, Druallen motioned to the kitchen door and said something. They all walked out the back door like school kids on a field trip. They made a special note not to walk near me. As soon as they left, I looked over to Abbrigal and Madia.
"What do you think" I wanted to know?
"Hard to tell, Michael," Abbrigal said looking toward the kitchen door, "But I think you sold them. You cutting that beam in half made your point."
"I think they are smart enough to know your offer is the best they are likely to get. You planned that well," Madia said.
I smiled. "Of Course, Nam-Gal thinks of everything."
It was then I heard an ear-piercing scream coming from behind my bar followed a split second by two higher pitched screams. I winced in realization. "That is everything except the Jadar cook I purchased and the dozen Trolls that just walked in on her." I turned and ran for the back of my bar trying to figure out how I was going to explain this one.
End
Good Help is Hard to Find - Part 2 of 2(Wilbur Arron)
I heard rustling footsteps coming through an open doorway, like someone dragging a bag. I opened my eyes and saw I was still lying next to the fireplace in the Reluctant Wizard. After the fiasco that was the Duke's dinner last night, I had come back here so fit to be tied I did something I seldom do, drank myself into a coma. My head was sore, my body ached, my vision was cloudy, my bladder was ready to explode, and my head pounded like one of the Trolls was beating on it.
"Michael, are you awake?" I heard through my fogged brain.
I blinked a few times, trying to get the world into some degree of focus when I saw a tall, thin, older gray-haired woman in a flowing white flaxen gown standing at the door that leads into the kitchen. After a few seconds, the figure came into focus and I recognized her.
"Madia?" I queried.
"Yes, Michael. I wanted to talk to you. Abbrigal told me what happened before he went to sleep."
I slowly got to my feet just as my stomach started to feel like I swallowed a paint mixer. I was not sure which orifice was going to cut loose first, but something was definitely coming out. I started to move toward the back and the privies.
"They called Abbrigal and you cowards," she said like she was afraid to speak the word.
"That and a few other choice words, or at least the Earl of Aswar did before I put my fist through his face. That action did not endear me with the court. When Abbrigal mentioned that under the law, any civilian who had fought in five campaigns was free from further call-up and that I had seven campaigns, the others shouted him down as disloyal. That made me so mad that I walked out. When the gate guard tried to stop me, I put my hand on my sword and asked where he wanted his body parts sent. That got me out of the palace and I came back here and drank myself into oblivion." There was a large gurgling noise from my belt and I grabbed my stomach and moved past Madia with a short word of apology before I made it to the outhouse and left fly from all ends at once.
After managing to part with what seemed to be half my body mass in a variety of putrid liquids, I walked back into the bar and sat down. Madia brought me a small cup of wine with a white powder floating on the surface; Abbrigal's old medicine for hangovers. I took it with a nod and downed it in two gulps. After some more churning of the bowels, I started to feel almost as good as a zombie.
"Sorry," I muttered. "You think I know by now I can't reason with these people like I do with you and Abbrigal. I hope I didn't make things worse for you."
Madia chuckled, "Before you came here, it was Abbrigal who used to raise the old Duke's ire. I am used to it and I am far too old to worry about what the court thinks of us now."
"I just do not understand it," I said in exasperation. "You think they'd be happy to see me go. The court hates my guts because their inflated egos will not swallow having an almost slave lead troops rather than them. Now I am a traitor for asking to go.”
"They are frightened, Michael," Madia said in her low voice. "Deep down inside, they know their worth and it is not much. They fear what will happen if they actually have to command against real troops. They fear the garrison soldiers and the Erin levies because they know these troops have no confidence in them and they are more likely to put an arrow in their backs rather than follow their orders. They fear the tradesmen because they fund the government and want more say in how things are run. They feared the other desert savages to the south who hate anything civilized and seek to burn the city after they loot it clean. Finally, they fear you because you walked in here and did what they could not do despite their training from birth; that is to inspire men and then lead them into battle. Men who are afraid will lash out at anything that even remotely seems to be a threat."
What she said made a good deal of sense, something almost totally lacking in this place. "Well, it doesn't matter, not for me anyway. Unless it is a national emergency, I am now a barkeep." Then it hit me. "Bar!" I shouted. "I have some slaves to buy."
With that, I jumped up, kissed Madia on the cheek and bounded up the stairs. Abbrigal's powder had cured my hangover like sunshine after a summer rain; I felt refreshed and ready to go. I raced out of the bar back into the square, which was already starting to fill up. I moved over to the entrance to the dungeon. Two guards stood there; as I approached, they crossed their halberds in front of my face barring my access.
"I am Nam-Gal," I said. "I am allowed access to the place at will."
"We know who you are," the older guard bleated out. "The Duke has revoked your palace privileges. You no longer have access to the palace. Leave or I will place you under arrest."
I felt like saying you and what other ten guys, but I saw the look on this face. He looked hurt, angry, and afraid. He looked like a kid after I just beat his puppy. Why was he this angry with me?
"Very well, guardsman, I will leave. I will talk to the Duke about my privileges."
"You can talk to the new Army commander about it, Simon de Arnascio," the guard said, and almost glared at me.
I started to say something and stopped. Now I knew the problem. The Duke placed his younger brother in charge of the troops. I also knew what a waste of DNA the Duke's younger brother was. Since he was born to command, he never actually felt the need to learn what he should do with his troops except shouting orders to the peasant scum. Salla Guilmick was a genius compared to him.
After a few seconds of trying to find a witty answer for his concern, all I could muster was a feeble "I am sorry." With that, I turned and walked back into the main square. My new status presented another problem. I wanted to talk to the Trolls before I bought them. Now I could not. That meant a small change in plans. I adjusted my sword belt so I wore both the swords on my back and waited. I found an open bench by the courthouse, went over, and sat down.
The square filled up fast. Mostly with people who were little more than slaves themselves: farmers, small merchants, shop workers, apprentices, and the odd rancher. All dressed in little better than rags and simple flaxen shifts. They were here to see the free show, which is all the entertainment they could afford. These people were the so-called backbone of society, the salt of the earth, without whom everything else would crash and burn. If you all believe that crap, I have some beachfront property in Kansas I'd like to sell you. The government here, just like the one back home, treats these people with all the kindness and respect given a leper. Most of them made, maybe, two to three dozen Kudims a year. Most were ignorant, dirt poor and the government was happy to keep it that way. The poor and the stupid don't give you any problems and this government had all the problems it needed already.
The crowd roared, jeered, and threw the usual rotten vegetables at the prisoners as they were lead onto the stage. They mostly did it for kicks. Their shouting put the fear of whatever Gods the Jadar believe existed into the captives. The guards had to drag some on to the stage. 'Vae Victis' as Brennos said when the Gauls sacked Rome in the Fourth Century BC. Some things never change.
The older Jadar women with family sold first. I took no special interest in any of them until the Jadar woman I knew came up. I had tasted her food in our march back from the desert and she could cook. She had two young daughters so I decided to buy all three of them. Yea I know it is an extra expense, and the girls were far too young to be useful for much, but the mother would be a better worker if she knew some slob son of a guild master was not raping her daughters nightly.
"Ten Kudims for all three," I yelled out. It was a low price, and I was willing to pay ten times that, but I learned never to tell anyone what you want in this town. It is one of the surest ways not to get it.
"Fifteen Kudims," one of the Moors spoke up.
"Twenty," a cloth guild master shouted.
At this point, I shut up and saw how the trading went, the Moor gave up at thirty-five, and then I yelled, "forty."
"Forty-two," the Guild master answered, looking at me curiously. He was wondering what I wanted with them.
"Forty-five," I answered.
The Guild master shrugged his shoulders and raised both hands over his head, the sign that he was done. The slave master counted five and clapped his hands. The woman and girls were mine. I walked up to the platform and told the slave master to have them brought to my new place. I then walked over to the mother and children. She knew who I was and I imagined the terrors going through her mind wondering what I had in store for her and her daughters. I had to stop that immediately. The best way to get someone's confidence is to be straight with them right from the start. A trick Abbrigal used on me. As I approached, the woman got down on her knees and pulled her children to the floor.
"Get up," I told them in Common.
The mother was confused but got up although she still would only look at my feet.
"You can look at me, and so can your daughters. I bought you as a cook for my bar. I bought your daughters so you will know where they are at night and will work well for me. Do not worry; I am not one of those who enjoys the company of children at night."
I let that sink in for a second before continuing. "Under Kessian Law, as battle captives, you are all slaves for five years. After that, it is up to me to decide what happens to you. I will tell you what is going to happen. I am opening a bar and I need a cook. I tasted your food on the journey from the desert, and it is good. If you cook well for me, do not try to run away, steal from me, or try to cut my throat, after five years I will set all of you free. After that, if you want to stay, I will pay you a decent wage, and I will see your children receive lessons so they can read and write. Until then, they can help clean the bar. I will demand nothing more of you than your cooking."
She was bewildered; I was doing this fast and hard partly because I do not like to mince words and partly to keep her mentally off balance so that she sees my offer as her only option. "There is no place for you to escape to, your men are dead and your camps destroyed. You know this because I destroyed them. You know what life is like living in the desert alone with children. You would all be dead within a month. Also, if you do run away, I will find you and sell you all to the salt miners. They will not treat you nearly as well as I will. That is my offer to you. I tell this to you because I want you to know that I will do is what I say I will do. Behind my kitchen, there is a new outbuilding. It is yours. Right now, there are only blankets there, but I will try to make your living there bearable. Do you understand me?"
She looked disorientated for a few seconds before stammering out, "All you want is cooking?"
"Yes, that is all I want," and I placed emphasis on all. She was not unpleasant to look at, but my interests were elsewhere. I was giving her one of the best deals in her life and could only hope she was smart enough to see it.
She thought for about fifteen seconds before she nodded. "I understand," she muttered. "I will not run away."
"Good, they will bring you to my place. Behind the outbuilding, there is a small walled off courtyard near a well. You can wash yourself and the children there away from prying eyes. I will see about clothes for you and your children tomorrow."
With that, I turned and walked away giving her no chance to argue or talk to me. I heard a child call out, "bye," before her mother hushed her. I smiled and walked to the guard who was in full chain mail wearing a short sword and carrying a thrusting spear. All sold slaves are given a guard until they were taken to the home of their new owners. This was because under Kessian law, you did not pay for a slave until the state delivered them to you, and the Duke made damn sure he got every copper penny that was coming to him. I walked up to him and asked, "You know my new bar I am building in the commercial block?"
"Yes, Nam-Gal." he said coolly. Here was obviously another person not happy with my new choice of careers.
"In the back, there is an outbuilding, take the woman and children there," I ordered him and then gave him three silver coins.
"Yes, Nam-Gal," he spat out. He turned and gathered the woman and children and started toward the edge of the square. I walked back towards my bench only to see the Cloth Guild master, who had been bidding against me, sitting there. He looked at me eyeing him sitting in my spot.
"Seemed a fair exchange," he said.
I took a deep breath, muttered, “Agreed,” and continued standing.
I spent nothing more since I got what I wanted. It took the morning and all afternoon, but they managed to sell off most of the captives. Those slaves not sold today became the Duke's property and would live out their short miserable lives in the mines. About a third, mostly women with weaving skills, the Clothing Guild members purchased. They would be set free under long-term contracts to make clothing since slaves cannot work in the guilds. The noble families purchased many of the younger, single, and better-looking girls for housework. A second and unmentioned use of these women was as 'practice', as the term goes, for the younger males of the household. One of the results of this 'practice' is more free slaves for the household. Those without skills or good looks, the salt miners brought. They would go south and would spend their lives making salt from seawater or underground mining salt deposits. I kept a running total in my head and estimated about forty thousand kudims were spent. Figuring each kudim is about a tenth of an ounce of gold, the Duke made about four million bucks selling a thousand women and children into lives of servitude. That would be more than enough to fund the expedition into the desert and the war against the Trolls, so the Duke was making out like a bandit. Who says war does not pay.
You probably are wondering by now how I, a guy that grew up in New Jersey, could take part in any of this or even stomach it. After all, I am a citizen of America, freest country in the world. I should be mortified. I should speak up. I should care. Well, I don't. The short answer is in two parts. First, exactly what could I do about it; get up on a soapbox and preach the revolution? First off, Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov I am not. I would have lasted about ten seconds before becoming an arrow magnet. From what little historical information available, slavery has existed in Kesswell and this world as far back as anyone can remember. Also, remember it was only 150 years ago, we gave up this lucrative practice ourselves. The second and more important reason why slavery exists is that the economy of Kesswell depended on it, same as the south before the Civil War. Slaves are used for domestics, miners, and the farm hands that keep everybody fed and working in Kesswell. As the money goes, so goes the morality. Slavery makes money for lots of people. Those people control most of the rest of the money. All that money buys influence and power and that is why it continues. Therefore, I watch and try not to get ground up in the political morass.
The last of the Jadar slaves sold after sunset, as they brought out torches to light up the stage. It was then my buddy Salla Guilmick stood up in front of the crowd and said that the Trolls would be sold next. It amused me to see that right after his speech heavy crossbowmen took up positions on the roof of the barracks and palace. There was also a troop of heavy house cavalry drawn up at the end of the square blocking the entrance to the palace. Maybe Salla was not quite as stupid as I thought, but then I have been wrong before. I also noted that the square was very quickly emptying. I was not the only one who lacked confidence in the town guard. Then, one at a time, the Trolls were taken out, heavily chained so they could move only about half a stride, and then chained to flimsy wooded posts that would maybe, hold them for a few milliseconds. By now, only about two dozen people were in the square, mostly from amusement to see who would be stupid enough to buy these creatures. There were a few of salt miners present who surrounded themselves with their own personal guards. Druallen came out fifth, I made a motion to him that things were ok, I think, and waited. Salla got up and made the formal announcement.
"We are going to auction off these Trolls. The Duke has bid me announce that anyone who buys them will be responsible for them once they leave the main part of the city. We will take no responsibility for anyone's safety with these prisoners. If they are not sold today, they will be taken to work in the Duke's iron mines. Now, does anyone want to bid on these slaves?"
"Yes," I shouted out. "One hundred kudims for all of them delivered to my new bar."
You could have heard a pin drop anywhere in the square. People looked at me with a mixture of disbelief, anger, and outright horror.
"Are you sure, Nam-Gal?" Salla squeaked.
"Quite sure, Salla Guilmick, you and the others should not worry; I do not intend to keep them in town."
"And if they escape, they will murder us in our sleep," one of the well-dressed courtiers spoke out.
"If they escape and have any brains, they will be back in the mountain highlands before you wake up in the morning," I answered. "Trolls are big, they are ferocious, they are strong, but they are not stupid. If they hang around here, they are dead. Half a dozen crossbow bolts and they will feed the buzzards like anyone else. I make this promise to all who can hear me. If any of these creatures escape and remain in Kesswell, I will personally deliver them to the Duke's iron mines, or personally deliver them to the underworld. So you can have your slave women protect you at night because these creatures will not harm you."
I heard a few chuckles from the Moors. The courtier, who was a Baron of some minor land outside town did a slow burn and walked away. I saw both Druallen and Druilli translating as I spoke. I looked around. No one seemed interested in offering a counter bid.
"If there are no other bids, I claim these slaves," I called out.
Everyone seemed perfectly happy for me to handle the Trolls and likewise take the risk of getting pounded into Foie Gras. "Bring them to my new bar, I ordered and walked out of the square like I owned it.
I walked back to my bar slowly hearing the pounding feet and dragging chains of my most recent acquisitions coming up behind me. It is amazing how fast the street clears out when twelve quarter ton, savage, man-eating masses of green flesh follow you home. I walked up the porch stairs and there at the back of the main room behind a homemade crooked table sat two persons, an older couple. Abbrigal and Madia each were drinking a mudee of my own homebrew.
"Help yourself," I said.
"We did," Madia said. "You know Michael when you said you were not a brew-master, you were not lying. This pale ale is awful."
"Thank you," I said. "My Trolls will be here soon so if you are excitable, I suggest you leave now."
"I would not miss this for the world," Abbrigal said, with a mustache of white ale foam on his face and beard. "And by the way, the ale is not awful as my dear sister says, but I wouldn't serve it to a pig."
"Thank you, my old friend, for your stunning vote of confidence," I replied and took a mock bow.
Then you could hear it, in the ground, the low, deep, seismic rumbling of twenty-four large feet hitting the ground together. I heard the wood creak as the Trolls marched up onto my porch and through my doublewide doorway. I figured that if the steps didn't break now, they never would. Much to my surprise, they didn't. About fifty guardsmen led a dozen large green creatures in chains. I noted Salla Guilmick decided not to come. By the time they all managed to get into my bar, it was full. I was glad the chairs and bar were not installed yet. I had the Trolls all put over near the staircase. I then motioned for the lead guard to give me the shackle keys and then told him his men could all leave. I saw a couple of them make the double-handed prayer to Malduke that people made if someone was going to die. No doubt, it was for my benefit. As soon as the guards were all gone, I threw the keys to Druallen.
"I would like Druallen and Druilli to translate what I am going to say to the rest of you. Before I set you free, I want your promise that you will not harm anyone here or in this town tonight. You will understand after we talk. I need you all to hear me out since all of our lives depend on it," I said flatly. I let that sink in for a minute before adding, "I mean that sincerely, all of our lives do depend on hearing what I have to say. In the meantime, you can unlock your leg irons. Do I have your word?" I asked.
The largest Troll looked right at me and started to grunt, growl and speak words in a language I had no clue about. It went on for a few seconds before he stopped and then he started laughing. I looked to Druallen who translated.
"That is Frodallen, our leader," he said in passable Common. "He says anyone who would be alone with twelve Trolls with just himself, an old man and an old woman is either very wise, or very brave, or very stupid, and he wants to know which one you are. You have our word no harm will come to you for now."
"Thank you," I said. "I will get right to the point. The reason I bought you is simple. I need help, and you need a home and together we can solve each other's problems. The reason I am setting you free is that I could not expect to keep you locked up. You are all too big and too powerful for anyone to control against your will. This is not bravery on my part, it is simple sense." Maybe a little sincere flattery would put them at ease.
I let Druallen translate that and noted grunting acceptance. Frodallen then started muttering in what sounded to me as grunts and growls but now that I listened to it, I could hear sounds, inflections, stops, and pauses. It was a language they spoke, just not one I could comprehend. Then Druallen spoke up.
"Frodallen and the rest of us want to know how we can help each other."
"That part is also simple," I said with a grin. "To the south of the city about half a day's ride is the Alos River. It is black from all the rich sands that wash down from the mountains. No one lives there, yet it is the best farming land in the area. No one lives there because, first, the Jadar used to raid that close to the city. That is no longer a problem since I just killed off the Jadar and sold the rest into slavery." I stopped and let that get translated.
"Du sat, no bas coul dutaln Dan-Dal," is what I thought I heard Frodallen say.
"We know you are Nam-Gal and you killed the Jadar." Druallen translated.
"The second problem with this land is that it is heavily wooded. It would take some time for humans to clear the trees. I think a dozen Trolls could do it in a season with no problem. The last item is that it is far away from the city fortifications and people are afraid of bandits and other thieves that are in the area. As a result, anyone who has tried to farm the land has ended either as a failure or as a corpse. I seriously doubt that any bandits will bother a dozen Trolls and none will do it more than once. If you farm the land, you will be able to grow your own food, build your own houses. The hills nearby are also full of iron ore and other minerals you could mine. Smart miners could extract them and sell them in the city. You could live out there and form a colony with other Trolls. You would be outside Kessian law, but the Duke keeps a close eye on this land. Once it improved, you could send for others of your tribe. The land is fertile enough to support maybe a hundred of your kind with surpluses."
"I have a question," Druilli asked. Her Common was more broken than her brother’s but understandable. "We get to farm, we get to mine, what do you get out of this? Humans do not help anyone out of the goodness of their hearts."
"Especially this one, my dear," Abbrigal added.
"That is true," I told her. "Do not think I am giving this to you because I want to be best friends with the Trolls. I will get several things out of this. First, this building is going to become a bar soon and I stink as a brew-master. If you can stand it, you can try my ale and see for yourself. One of you is a good brew-master and I need the help making beer, ale, liquor, and some of that Troll liquor I heard so much about. The second thing is that I need a secure supply of grain, cattle and other farm goods. You can provide it to me. I will buy your excess grain each year. Oh, I know there will not be much the first couple of years, but that land can grow a forest of grain. I will buy it from you at a fair price. If you can find a better price, I will let you come into town and sell it as long as I get first chance to bid on it."
I did not mention how a dozen Trolls coming into the grain market would go over with the locals. I would imagine it be something between a Marx Brothers movie and the Normandy Invasion.
I went on. "If you accept my offer, you get to live long and maybe prosper. I also get to prosper. I think this is about as good an offer as you are going to get unless you are looking forward to a career mining the Duke's iron as slaves."
More grunts from one of the two younger Trolls from the Nultdul Clan. I saw him bend over and pick up an unused wooden beam from the floor. In his green massive hand, it looked like a toothpick. He said something that sounded like "ducan, does, tabla, nico", and then I lost it completely until Druallen again translated.
"Oulsallen says what is to keep them from saying yes and then leaving the first time you turn your back."
"Nothing," I told him. "You can leave anytime you want. Under the law, you are my slaves for five years, but I know there is no way I can enforce that outside the city. However, let me make this point very clear to all of you. I will not go after you if you escape. However, if you harm anyone in Kesswell, I will hunt you down myself and I meant exactly what I said about delivering you to the Duke's mines or to a grave."
Druallen translated, and as he finished Oulsallen threw the 2x4 straight for my head and started to charge forward. I had expected it. My old training cut in. The wooden beam seemed to slow down in flight in the second of time it took it to cross the thirty feet of space between Oulsallen and my skull. I stepped back, pulled out my Katana and sliced the beam in half as it went by my head. I had the sword back in my scabbard before both pieces of wood hit the floor. Then I turned and looked at the oncoming green hulk and smiled broadly. He was coming on and I had my hand on my sword for another quick draw. I heard Frodallen bark something loud enough to shake the walls and Oulsallen pulled up still ten feet from me.
"If you all rush me together you can probably kill me," I bellowed out. "You can also kill the old man and woman, but I guarantee most of you won't live to leave this bar. The rest of you will be dead before morning. That is no boast. If you think about it for a second, you will know why."
"He is no ordinary soldier," I heard Abbrigal's normally reserved voice call out like a ticked off Marine DI. It was only then I noted he was standing with his staff up. Madia was standing and had three throwing knives at the ready. "He is Nam-Gal, and there is a reason why he was selected to lead the Duke's guards in the wars. He is as vicious a killer as you will find in this town. He is also a Newcomer. If you trade with the Amazons, you know what a Newcomer is; only Nam-Gal was a fighter before he came here, not afterward."
I let Druallen and Druilli translate all of that. Then there was some hushed discussion among them. Oulsallen slowly backed away from me with his eyes rigidly glued to my person. I caught one or two of them looking at me as if sizing me up like a soon-to-be-dead duck, but I distinctly heard Frodallen articulate perfectly the word Newcomer. Finally, they backed off up and Druallen spoke for the group.
"We know about Newcomers to our world. They say they move faster than the eye can see and can kill a person before they know they are dead. We see this is true with you. You have given us much to discuss among ourselves and we want to do this alone. Is there a place we can go to be private?"
For a group of so-called blood-curdling raving savages that kill for kicks and then eat their enemies, this was about as good as it was likely to get. I shrugged and went on, "You can go out back through what is going to be my kitchen. I see you are dirty. From my own experience, I know a few days in the Duke's dungeon while livable does not promote clean living. There is a well behind the building; you can wash there. I do not know what Trolls wear but there are some sheets upstairs, I will get them and you can make clothing out of them. One other thing, I also do not know Troll customs, but women do not march around town with no tops. Men do not walk around with mostly no bottoms. I suggest you cover your breasts and most of your posteriors." I stopped for a second to let Druallen translate that. There was no reaction, I don't think the Trolls cared if they walked around 'au-natural' or not.
I decided it was time to end this. "If, after your discussion, you agree to my offer, I will spend tomorrow buying supplies and the following day we will go to the new farm. If you choose to leave, I will not stop you, but remember what I said about hurting anyone in Kesswell."
"We will consider all you said," Druallen said, almost in a most respectful tone. "If you will bring us the cloth and some needles and thread we will make clothing for ourselves."
"I will see what I have, but it will be tomorrow before I can get anything major," I repeated.
With that, Druallen motioned to the kitchen door and said something. They all walked out the back door like school kids on a field trip. They made a special note not to walk near me. As soon as they left, I looked over to Abbrigal and Madia.
"What do you think" I wanted to know?
"Hard to tell, Michael," Abbrigal said looking toward the kitchen door, "But I think you sold them. You cutting that beam in half made your point."
"I think they are smart enough to know your offer is the best they are likely to get. You planned that well," Madia said.
I smiled. "Of Course, Nam-Gal thinks of everything."
It was then I heard an ear-piercing scream coming from behind my bar followed a split second by two higher pitched screams. I winced in realization. "That is everything except the Jadar cook I purchased and the dozen Trolls that just walked in on her." I turned and ran for the back of my bar trying to figure out how I was going to explain this one.
End
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