10 — The Reality of Slavery
10 — The Reality of Slavery
The king’s home was less a residence and more a grand temple. Its construction evoked memories of European architecture from my past life. If only I’d had a camera.
Landol led us inside rather easily. As in, there was literally no door.
“Why is there nothing here?” I asked.
“To offer shelter to the citizens who can’t fight,” he replied. “The palace is currently acting as their refuge.”
“What if all the dwarves out there were hurt and had to run here, but then monsters showed up?”
“Then it would surely be their grave.”
They clearly knew the risks.
“What about the king and his retainers? His guard?”
“His Majesty’s soldiers are currently battling the threat. I am one of them. His Majesty would not hesitate to fight to the bitter end.”
He had exceedingly few subjects, from what I understood. And even fewer of them were combat capable.
“I suppose I’ll judge him when we meet,” I said. “Before that, though, can you take me to where the injured citizens are being kept?”
“I can. This way.”
I placed those in need of healing above the patience of any king. When we arrived, I noticed there wasn’t a single dwarf among the wounded. They were all humans and various other races. Slave crests branded their arms, chests, faces, and necks.
It hit me all at once. This was what slavery really was in this world. The fact that some of them seemed completely apathetic about receiving treatment told me that, to them, death was a preferable alternative to their lot in life.
“They’re all slaves?” I asked.
“Yes,” Landol answered. “They were the front line and took the first wave of the ants. They’re mages, so once their mana is regenerated, they’ll be sent back out.”
“Some of these people are in no shape to be fighting,” I argued. “They’ll hardly be able to move if they lose too much blood.”
“True, but this is a crisis. Better to spill the blood of a slave than our own brothers and sisters.”
I fell silent. I couldn’t say anything back. I might very well have done the exact same thing in his shoes, and that thought made me shudder. Two sources of warmth heated the chill going down my spine. Lionel and Ketty stood behind me.
“This is how slaves are treated,” Lionel said. “This is the reality.”
“It’s the reality just about everywhere,” Ketty amended.
They shared the same sad smile. Perhaps they had been in Landol’s position before. Perhaps they knew how it felt.
“I’m going to heal them,” I declared, “but I don’t want them going right back out into the battle. I’m going to talk to the king, and depending on how it goes, I may have a use for them.”
“If you say so,” Landol said. “I will join you, of course. They’re under contract and won’t be escaping.”
“Then let’s get to healing.”
I approached the “citizens,” and they looked my way with faces full of fear and despair. Ignoring it as best I could, I went around and healed them. Many of their wounds were deep, and men and women alike were suffering. Each reacted with surprise when my magic did more than simply close their open flesh, poking and prodding at where their wounds had been moments before.
Just when I thought I’d gotten to everyone, I caught sight of several other slaves lying in beds, seemingly unscathed and regarded with more respect than the others.
“What about them?” I said.
“I believe they use healing magic,” Landol replied.
I was taken aback. That meant they could have been with the Healer’s Guild.
“When did you get them?”
“Many different slavers from all around the world started to visit us after Dhoran was purchased. Perhaps word spread from the slaver who conducted the transaction. They began trying to sell slaves to His Majesty about a year ago, claiming that those with the ability to cast healing magic were more valuable.”
“So he bought them?”
“No,” Landol said. “His Majesty didn’t want to potentially strain relations with the Republic of Saint Shurule.”
“Go on.”
“The king’s son purchased them personally. When he did, the slavers turned their attention to and ingratiated themselves with him instead.”
“Well, it seems like His Majesty has a tacit understanding with his son. At any rate, they’ve been magically enervated. They need rest. Does anyone else need attention? Any non-mage beastfolk?”
“No. Not anymore.”
I felt the weight behind his words. My body seethed and trembled, but there was no earthquake to cause it this time.
“I see,” I muttered after a silence. I forced a smile with every ounce of effort I could muster, my knuckles turning white. “Then I think it’s time we met with the king.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” Landol stuttered, trepidation in his voice.
Before I followed him out of the room, the slaves uttered their quiet thanks. I didn’t answer them.
“Shall I head the negotiations?” Lionel offered, seeing me staring a hole through Landol’s back.
“You’re gonna make a mess if you try to talk while all you’re seein’ is red,” Ketty remarked.
I was mad? I suppose I was. Strange. My head was frighteningly clear.
“I’m fine,” I insisted. “Just weighing the pros and cons of toppling an entire nation.”
“Okay, well, don’t do that,” Ketty said.
“It’s a story as old as time,” Lionel remarked. “Those ignorant to the ways of the world always react with surprise.”
“I’m not exactly innocent when it comes to treating slaves nice either,” Ketty divulged hesitantly.
“Your past is your past,” I said. “Maybe I really am the weird one.”
I gave a tired smile as we approached what appeared to be an audience chamber.
“This is where visitors are received,” Landol explained. “If Sir Grand is here, he will be in this room.”
The door opened, and inside was an unusual sight. Grand was protecting Kefin from dwarves.
“What is this?” I demanded. “Who wants to explain what’s going on here?”
“Mister Luciel,” Kefin called, turning towards me and taking a knee. His hand rested on the hilt of his as yet undrawn sword. In front of him, Grand opened and closed his mouth, at a loss for words.
“Do not make me ask again,” I declared.
“We’re passing judgment upon that slave who failed to protect me!” Aleslei shouted remorselessly.
My patience ran thin.
“Who is your king?” I demanded yet again.
“This is dwarf land, boy!” Aleslei roared. “You may be celebrated in Shurule, but your power means nothing here!”
I disregarded the blustering dwarf. “If your leader won’t see me, then I’m finished here. Well done, Kefin. You shouldn’t have had to endure this, but we’re going home now. I hope we meet again, Grand.”
As I turned on my heels, a dwarf spoke up. “Wait. I am the one you’re looking for. I am King Rockwell.”
Turning my head slightly, I stated plainly, “We were just leaving, Your Grace.”
“You insult my father!” Aleslei bellowed. “Do not let them leave!”
I did not hesitate. “Lionel, Ketty, Kefin. Show them who we are.”
They obeyed. The dwarves would swiftly learn that strength was not theirs to monopolize. Lionel swung his flaming greatsword and batted away one’s shield, melting it as it flew. Ketty poked bloody holes in their limbs, while Kefin, the most enraged of all, appeared behind Aleslei and casually disarmed him.
Twenty seconds was all it took.
“The Kingdom of Dwarves,” I hissed mockingly. “Enjoy ruling over an empire of dust.”
“Wait.” King Rockwell rose from his throne and groveled on the ground. “Please. Save us.”
“I am not your messiah,” I said. “Why should I offer my help to a king who can’t even rule his own spoiled son? I came here as a personal favor to Dhoran and Grand. You’re sitting here while your people fight when you could decide the battle.”
“As you can see, I am old and weak,” he pleaded.
“Your robe of mimicry would have me believe that, wouldn’t it?” I answered accusingly. “You used me to give yourself a reason to make a show of teaching your son a lesson. Because he thinks he’s above humans.”
In that instant, it felt as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Rockwell shook, his quiet laughter growing into a great bellow. “Keen eyes, young S-rank. You didn’t earn your title for nothing,” he said. “Tell me, how did you know?”
“I’ve noticed your son has a habit of looking down on people. Despite that, he seemed to honor you in that frail body of yours a little too much. And not just him. Every dwarf here was acting suspicious.”
“How careless of me.”
King Rockwell tore away the robe, transforming the frail elder beneath it into a great, brawny man of a little over a meter and a half in height. Impressive for a dwarf.
His presence nearly made me stagger, but it was nothing compared to Master Brod’s or Lionel’s aura.
“Well, good luck,” I said dismissively, unwavering.
I moved towards the door, and a wall of stone erupted before me. Lionel rendered it rubble in an instant.
“Okay, you weren’t supposed to do that,” Rockwell griped, becoming flustered.
I remained where I was in awkward silence.
“Listen, I’m sorry. No more lies. I’ll swear under one of those contracts your Church seems to love so much if it means you’ll lend your aid.”
“Spirits can nullify them,” I replied. “And frankly, you’ve already picked enough of a fight with the Church for me not to care what happens to you at this point.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“You have unlawful slaves in your charge.”
“I’m a king!” he argued. “What king keeps tabs on every single servant he has?”
Pushing down my growing irritation, I continued, “Humans who can wield holy magic are under the charge of the Healer’s Guild. Of course, that’s not to say healers can’t be slaves, but those who wear the Church’s robes belong to the head branch. And those are only a select few.”
“Speak plainly, boy.”
“The Republic of Saint Shurule does not wage wars of aggression, and I’ve heard no word of any being declared recently. So why do you have five HQ healers as your slaves? And why are they resting in your palace, worked to the point of magical exhaustion?”
“What is he talking about?” the king growled at his subjects, words dripping with anger. “Someone speak.”
Landol’s voice shook as he replied, “If I may, Your Majesty. One year ago, I was directed to purchase slaves from a passing slaver peddling his wares.”
“By who?” Rockwell snarled.
“By Princes Grios and Aleslei and their followers, Your Grace. I was told you had budgeted for them.”
“What’s this about, Rockwell?” Grand asked, glaring at his king.
“I swear to you, Grand. By the spirits, I had no idea,” Rockwell insisted.
The spirits’ voices suddenly echoed, coming to their kin’s aid.
“He’s definitely tellin’ the truth.”
“Rockwell sure is a meathead.”
“Didn’t that slaver brainwash ’em or something?”
“Hey, doofus. Help the guys out. You can rob ’em blind after for all we care.”
“There’s lots of dwarves to go around, but we don’t really want these to go away.”
“And if something bad happens here, something bad will happen to Rockford next.”
I certainly hadn’t expected to hear from the spirits here, of all places. It spoke to how much they cared about their kin, I guess.
“What if I don’t?” I asked.
“Rockwell might live, but prob’ly not the rest.”
“Heck, even Rockwell might bite it.”
“Then the land will break apart.”
“It’s all up to you, doofus.”
“We’re not asking for free labor or anything. Rockwell will pay up for sure.”
“Everyone but him’s weaker than even you, Luciel. Please, help them.”
“Can the other dwarves hear you right now?”
“Yup.”
“If you want me to save this country, I have five conditions,” I said. “I want possession of any slaves I choose. Any magic stones we obtain are to be my property. Rockwell, you are not to lie to me. Your sons are to be thoroughly punished. And you are to deliver an official apology to Dhoran.”
The spirits vanished. My team looked at me curiously as the dwarves of the court stared in shock.
King Rockwell cackled. “I like you, boy. You have a deal, but I want you to heal my men.”
“Fair enough,” I said. “Consider this our tentative alliance. You have my word, by the spirits of land, that I will do what I can to rid your kingdom of the monsters underground.”
“As long as I sit on that throne, the Kingdom of Dwarves will fly your banner!”
“What? No, this is a tentative alliance. I don’t want you people.”
“Call it what you want,” the king chuckled. “I swear by your terms.”
And so our battle against the insect menace began.