Territory Slaves

Chapter Five - Dealing With Devils

“The bitch just had to interfere.” Prince Delosa Pietsi tossed the screen he’d just finished reading on the low table between him and Councilman Nerril Ardres. As a Council member, Councilman Ardres had received a copy of Mijre’s petition for acquisition of Elethera. She made an excellent plea. She included a report on the welfare of the population on her continent, cited precedence cases, and detailed benefits for various Council members and the Territories in general.

Delosa would never have made the risky move without Ardres supporting him in the Council, and with his advice. Now, without Ardres’s continued support, he would have had no chance. He tried to rub the away headache building in the back of his neck.

“You didn’t expect her to?” Councilman Adres asked.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted. Even though he only petitioned for the continent of Sundera and Sundera Station. He didn’t try to make a claim on Nalari. Sundera was perfectly positioned to be a stopping point for slave transports for several territories. That, added to the sales of the remaining indigenous people on Elethera, could have cleared his debt. “I just don’t know why she hounds me like I stole her best toys.”

Ardres made a small hand gesture and the three beautiful youths kneeling around them, waiting on their needs, stood at attention. Another gesture dismissed them.

“I’ve been analyzing her movements for well over a hundred years, prince. She hides the pattern very well. Not that many would believe if they saw the truth.” He paused dramatically. “Mijre intends to end slavery, eventually.”

Delosa waited for Ardres to laugh at his own joke, but the Councilman didn’t even smile. He wanted to discredit the idea, but Ardres knew more about Council affairs than anyone, except Mijre. “You can’t be serious. She owns more slaves than any other Council member. Why would she?”

“I’d like to know. If we weren’t talking about Mijre, I’d say she had a moral problem with slavery, but as you said, she utilizes the institution. To the fullest extent.” Adres smiled. “I’ve seen Sesul work. He’s delightful. Hell, I saw him work on Kinnet, before they became such cozy friends. She cried when he walked into the room.” He sounded wistful.

Delosa had no interest in Mijre’s amusements, but he had to admit he wished he’d seen that. Then whenever he had to suffer Kinnet’s arrogance, he’d remember her crying in fear.

“She can’t decide whether to destroy them or exalt them.” Delosa shook his head in distaste. “My family has run a thriving slave trade venture for hundreds of years. We’ve built a prosperous province, paid our tithe to Councilman Holsun, and been a loyal part of Holsun Territory. Now I’m fighting for my life and my families’ future thanks to one lunatic Council member?”

“Don’t worry too much yet. This petition of Mijre’s will frighten the Council. She has already gained too much land and too much power. They’ll be looking for excuses to vote in your favor.” Ardres heaved himself to his feet. With countless methods of weight management available to people of means, Ardres still managed to be overweight. His skin sagged and wrinkled, making him look older than Mijre, who was 30 years his senior. Delosa suspected a lifetime of excess had weakened his age extension.

The Councilman refilled his tumbler and Delosa’s with a grace that suggested he often waited on himself, perhaps while reviewing intelligence from his spies in his study. Then Ardres began to move furniture. Bemused, Delosa watched him shift tables and cabinets around his overcrowded study, wondering if he should offer his aid or not. Ardres casually took a real oil painting that had been hidden behind a cabinet off the wall and dropped it onto a table. He placed his palm over a section of the mahogany wall. A panel slid aside, revealing a stash of slides. Ardres selected a few slides, then carefully moved back the displaced furniture.

Huffing from the exertion, he inserted a slide into a desk and a large screen came on behind the desk. On the screen, Delosa could see a record of Mijre’s Council votes. Ardres shifted through a few files, finally leaving two open on the screen. The top one contained more records of Mijre’s votes.

“This file contains the records of Mijre’s votes that curb slavery in some way. Taken in smaller sections, such as a decade, the votes don’t amount to much. Many of them don’t appear to impact slavery at all.

“But see here, about 50 years ago she approved an extension on Raddeki Province’s debt payments. Baceti and Raddeki weren’t exactly on friendly terms. Mijre cared as much for Raddeki’s prince as she does for you, but after extending the debt, she opened trade with Raddeki. The terms of the trade agreement terms were generous. Several provinces wanted Raddeki for the millions of slaves of living in towns without overseers. The prince didn’t have the resources to start a slave trading enterprise or to put the slaves to good use in her province. This rich source of slaves is untapped to this day.”

Ardres scrolled forward in the file. “Here she blocks a move to expand criminal offenses that lead to enslavement. Here she proposes a limit on debt interest rates. Perhaps she had another motive, but the number of debtors sold into slavery decreased. And you know how hard she fought to keep Elethera and Safar out of Territory hands.”

Delosa laughed in a stunned grunt. “I thought she wanted the planets for herself.”

“Oh, I’m sure she does in the long run. In fact, the other file I have here shows her moves to increase her Territory. Of course, everyone knows her motives for those votes, but the two records together cause me great concern. Mijre wants two things: to gain power and to reduce slave numbers. Eventually, she could be able to use her power to end slavery altogether.”

Uncertain if he was ready to believe Ardres’ claims or not, Delosa leaned against the chaise pillows to consider the records. “Why not tell the rest of the Council?”

“They’ll think I’m trying to undercut a rival with rumors. Besides, I’d rather not get a visit from Kinnet in the middle of the night.”

“As if she could get through your security.”

“I wouldn’t bet my life she couldn’t.”

Delosa shivered. He’d hired the best security advisors in the Territories when Mijre bought his debt for the same reason. He thoughtfully perused the records, occasionally asking Ardres to explain how a vote impacted slavery. Ardres’s logic seemed sound, but he was a slippery man to put one’s faith in and Delosa had already put so much faith in Ardres’s plans. “Why are you telling me all of this? I could belong to Mijre in a year?”

“We’re losing ground, Delosa. Both of us.” He shrugged. “You’re my front line so to speak. I’m sure you've questioned why I’m helping you. Now you know why. I need you to trust me like I’m trusting you with this. As for you falling into Mijre’s hands, I don’t think she wants anything from you. I doubt she’d even question you before your execution.”

Bile rose in Delosa’s throat. He took a drink to force it down.

“I apologize,” Ardres added, “for being so blunt.”

“No, I know. I’m fighting for my life.”

Ardres studied him for a long moment, then nodded as if he’d made a decision. “Then I have other interesting files to show you.”

***
The Sundeht family estate sprawled over several acres of the small hills of Loyur, the capital of the Sundeht Province, which spanned one world, two stations and a moon. Sundeht Province had more land than two of the Territories, yet they never attempted to break away from Udasi Territory. Perhaps Rylam Li Sundeht’s uncle regretted that now. Being Mijre’s pupil, Kinnet was of the mind to grab power when she could in order to wield it later when she needed it.

Two slaves led Kinnet, Sesul and their small security detachment through the beautiful estate. Floors with dark, plush carpet, an abundance of wood trim, and earthy tones evoked a feeling of strength and serenity. The effect could have been too dark, except most walkways had only a roof supported by columns and many rooms opened directly onto the courtyard or one of the several gardens. The estate sprawled along the curves and swells of the land.

Not nearly as extravagant as Mijre’s palace on Duarya, but Kinnet approved.

They passed slaves clad in gray with sky blue and brown trim, intent on their own business. The slaves returned their gazes boldly and sketched the merest bows. Kinnet wondered how many of the princes and Council members could visit the estate without having a seizure.

Sundehts were known for being easy on slaves. Slaves could only wear a variation on gray or black. Mijre preferred black for intimidation. Most owners did. Some used a light gray to show they could replace stained uniforms frequently, then they punished the slaves for staining the uniforms. The medium gray made a nice change. Sundeht slaves were also advanced quickly to at least second rank and enjoy a relaxed protocol.

Without the threat of torture hanging over her, Kinnet preferred the pressure of her duties as Mijre’s slave. She feared she’d be bored to tears in the Sundeht household.

They approached two large, wooden doors. Their guides opened them and bowed them through. Sesul, acting as security on this mission, followed her through the doors. The other guards stopped outside. Inside, Prince Tyr Sundeht sat on the edge of his desk, glaring at her. Kinnet bowed to him.

Tyr gestured to a slave who poured him a drink. He made no move to offer her one, indicating she was starting her negotiations on his bad side. He looked as earthy as his house, with brown hair and hazel eyes. Unlike his sprawling house, though, he was compactly built, not much more than an inch or two taller than she was.

“You tagged my nephew,” the head of the Sundeht family accused.

Kinnet bowed again, in apology. She didn’t tell him she didn’t know about the nanotrackers until after Mijre had it done. She would have tagged him if Mijre had ordered her to. Sometimes, people just assumed anything ordered by Mijre was accomplished by Kinnet.

“What do you want?” he demanded in exasperation, then gestured sharply towards a chair opposite his desk.

Kinnet sat lightly on the edge. Sesul took his place behind left her shoulder. “My owner wished me to speak with you regarding Elethera, your lordship.”

“Does she think I’ll support her while she’s holding my nephew hostage?” He watched her closely, though. She realized he wanted her to give him a reason to listen.

“She guarantees his safety should she gain Sundera Province.”

“Safety in what manner? Safely alive or safely unhurt?”

“I’m sorry, your lordship. She only assures his life.”

Pain flickered across Tyr’s face. “Do you really believe you have a chance to gain our support?”

“Yes. You know Pietsi’s business.”

“He’s a slaver.” He spoke as if the mere word smelled rotten. Exactly the reaction she expected from a family line descended from a slave, a line that chose to remember their history.

“He is.”

“Mijre’s treatment of her slaves is legendary.”

“She didn’t enslaved the remnants of Nalari’s population.”

“She won’t enslave the Sunderans?”

“No, your lordship.”

“Just Rylam.” His quick answers made Kinnet suspect he had been having this same argument with himself repeatedly. Which side did he want to be right?

“She hasn’t informed me of her intentions towards him, but Pietsi will sell every Sunderan he thinks will make him a profit to save his own skin. Hell, he’d have sold them anyway.”

“They aren’t my responsibility. Rylam is my responsibility.” She could tell he didn’t really believe his own words. The man considered his responsibility to be broader than that. “Prince Pietsi already offered Rylam’s safe return if we simply withhold our support.”

Which explained Pietsi’s bid to capture the prince and the withdrawal of Sundeht support. Even with his family, Rylam had little chance of winning Sundera.

“Guaranteed safety for the Sunderans or guaranteed safety for your nephew. Perhaps you should ask him to choose?”

“You ask him, in person. I’ll give Baceti my support if he wishes. With one more condition. Take your torturer, Sesul, and show him what he’s risking with Baceti before you ask.” His eyes darted to Sesul, his disgust evident.

Kinnet tilted her head, startled. She ran his words through her mind again to see if she understood correctly. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking? To Rylam?”

“He’s a generous man. He must know the consequences of his decision.” Tyr downed half his drink. Kinnet thought she saw his hand tremble.

“You have no reason to believe Mijre wants to enslave him, much less torture him.”

“As I said, her reputation is well known.”

“She has enough slaves. She has more use for a competent administrator.”

“I’m not relying on Mijre whims,” he said, almost to himself. “He has to know the risks.”

“He can watch broadcasts from several Territories if he doubts the risks.”

The prince’s face twisted. “Nothing compares with experience.”

“How long?”

“Pardon?”

“How long do you want Sesul to torture your nephew?” she replied, with bite.

“Two hours would be sufficient.”

“Do you want Sesul to be easy on him or hard on him?”

“Not easy, but not too hard. I don’t want him . . .”

“Broken?” she added helpfully. Prince Sundeht glared at her. “Do you want him raped?”

The man started sweating. Good, Kinnet thought. Maybe hard reality could dissuade him.

“No! No. I just want him to understand the kind of pain a man like Sesul can cause. I’ve acquired several slaves from different Territories that have been tortured for years, until nothing of themselves is left. I don’t want my nephew to end up like that.” And he didn’t want to condemn the Sunderans outright either, apparently.

“Besides,” she said slowly, “who knows what sort of information about the Sundeht family may be revealed under such duress.”

“That has nothing to do with this! Are you trying to talk me out of making a deal with your owner?”

Despite her personal objections, she knew she had already pushed too far. “No, I simply would rather not order the torture of Prince Rylam.”

“Those are my terms.”

“Very well, your lordship. On behalf of Baceti Territory, I accept your terms. Do wish to have a recording of the implementation of your request?”

Sundeht closed his eyes. “No, I’ll send a witness.”

***
Upon her return to Railu Station, Kinnet had been summoned to Mijre’s presence. She almost felt grateful. The terms of the agreement with Tyr Sundeht might stop rebounding in her head if she spoke them aloud.

They sat at ease in a dark and small room, with a low, curved ceiling, which still managed to convey luxury. With a floor carpeted in deep bronze and walls covered with midnight blue silk, the dim lights failed to invade the shadows that dominated the room. They sat out of reach of the lights in low chairs with pillows battered into perfect comfort, watching stars and planets through a window taller than a man.

Like everything connected to Mijre, the room was designed to manipulate, to make a person feel calm and safe. Kinnet allowed the atmosphere to lull her defenses. Defenses were useless against her owner anyway. She recounted her mission without censoring her own impressions.

“Do you think Tyr’s request shows concern for his nephew, or does he want him punished for failing on Elethera?” Mijre asked after awhile.

Kinnet shrugged and drew her knees to her chest. “I believe he cares, but he may desire to punish as well, though he would not realize that. Rylam spent more money buying enslaved Sunderans than on his station’s defenses. He’s considered soft even by Sundeht standards.”

“Yet he pulled the Sunderans together and built a community.” Mijre’s voice betrayed a rare admiration. “How do you think he’ll respond to torture?”

“I’ve never met him.”

“You’ve read the information I have on him. Just give me a guess.”

“He’ll take the torture, then choose what’s best for the Sunderans.”

“I believe so as well.” In the dim light, Kinnet saw the predatory grin. “I think I like him. Please do record this for me.”

“Yes, mistress.”

“And set a guard on him, assuming he chooses to back my claim. I have no fear he’ll escape with the nanotrackers in him. But Pietsi has been pushed very hard. He may attempt to kill Rylam purely for revenge.”

The poor man. He’d be hurt, forced to choose between himself and his people, and then imprisoned by Baceti guards.

“We should resolve this matter quickly. I have a small task for Sesul. Then we’ll let Sesul torture the prince, and ask him for his answer.” Mijre settled her head back against cushion of the chair with a sigh that sounded decidedly pleased. “I’m confident I can seal the vote with a few pointed communiques, no need to send you or Sesul. Besides, I believe Sesul’s new charge has been missing him.”

Kinnet cocked an eyebrow. She doubted that very much. Keeping busy with her work allowed her to forget the worse side of the woman she obeyed. She’d have to check in on Jahhan, as soon as she seen to a small task she’d set for herself.

***