Chapter Nine
The next morning, Donya and I faced down the representative of the Sashan Guild of Slavers across a polished granite table.
He looked so ordinary. I couldn’t quite get past that. I’d heard horror stories about the Guild of Slavers. In fact, after Ysabel had been sold by our father, when we had no idea what had happened to her, I’d deliberately sought out every horror story from the pamphlets distributed by abolitionist activists in our country. Like picking at a partly healed scab, I hadn’t been able to stop myself. The contents had given me nightmares.
This young man had light brown hair, a heart-shaped face, and green eyes. He smiled at me with a kind expression. He didn’t look like someone who’d ever beaten another person. He looked like he would have trouble lifting any sort of weapon with his frail arms.
Donya gestured. “This is Arrand, the spokesman for the Sashan Guild of Slavers.”
Even his name sounded ordinary. It only made me all the more tense, waiting for the other dragon claw to drop.
Arrand coughed. “We’ve changed our name to the Guild of Indentured Servitude after the outcome of the last World Games.” He seemed completely relaxed, while Donya looked wan and strained. He smiled at me. “My congratulations on your regency, Your Grace. I’m pleased that your plan went so well. Now I’ve come to collect on our agreement.”
He spoke as if he knew the Blood Duchess personally. I’d never before had to deceive someone who’d known her well, except forFalael, who barely counted due to his political powerlessness. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck. I tried to sound distant and aloof. “There was never any doubt of my success.”
Her lips white and pursed, Donya said, “No agreement that the duchess made with you would ever hold up in Arahasnor’s courts without the permission of our queen.”
“Of course,” Arrand said mildly. “I’m confident we can come to an arrangement that will pay the late king’s debt and perhaps even benefit your kingdom as well.” I didn’t trust his gentle voice or equally gentle smile.
The door was flung open so hard it must have left a dent in the wall. A messenger page rushed in. His chubby cheeks were bright red and a lock of sweaty blond hair stuck to his nose. “Riot … at the back of the palace …” he gasped.
Donya shot to her feet. “I’m sorry, I have to handle this. Perhaps we can meet another time?”
“Her Grace and I can continue the discussion without you. Surely the royal regent doesn’t need a babysitter?” Arrand raised an eyebrow.
The tip of Donya’s nose turned crimson. “I … that’s a rude thing to say!”
Arrand chuckled. “My apologies. If the kingdom is in a great enough crisis to require the duchess’s attention, then of course we can reschedule. Is it a crisis of that magnitude or just a few peasants causing a stir?”
“It’s merely a minor incident.” Donya wasn’t a particularly good liar.
“I’m delighted to hear it.” Arrand beamed and took a sip from his teacup. “The duchess and I will excuse you to handle this no doubt minor matter.”
I locked eyes with Donya over his head. My gaze was frantic, hers concerned. She mouthed, “Just make small talk. Don’t promise him anything. Don’t let him trick you into agreeing to anything that sounds even remotely like a promise.”
What could I do but nod?
Casting one last worried look over her shoulder, Donya left. As soon as the door closed, I could hear her running down the hallway.
I gazed at Arrand, who calmly sipped his tea. “What do you think about the weather?” I asked weakly. “Will we get another snowstorm or is the season over? Personally, I’d welcome a sign of spring.”
Arrand set down his teacup. “Ah, yes, spring, when countless farmers in Sasha will need workers to replace the slaves freed by Dark Lord Kaine. Did he need all of them, I ask you? He didn’t just take the Conollians, who he claimed had been acquired via legally questionable raids. He stripped us of slaves we’d had for generations!”
“Um,” I said. Actually, I wanted to tell him how little sympathy a half-Conollian like me had for the plight of slavers, but that would make no sense coming from the Blood Duchess. I clamped my lips shut to prevent anything from escaping.
“I can’t tell you how delighted we are that Arahasnor’s debt provides us with a new source of workers. King Uctor promised us one thousand slaves.”
“Slavery has been rendered illegal around the globe by the last World Games. I couldn’t let you take our citizens if I wanted to,” I snapped. Surely that didn’t count as agreeing to anything—it was more the opposite—but I still feared Donya wouldn’t approve of me slipping out of character or starting a fight. “Um, leaving that aside, when do you think hats will go out of fashion? They’re nice enough, but I’m ready for more creative hairstyles.”
Arrand spoke over me. “Fortunately, my guild is nimble and prepared to change with the future. I present the new alternative to slavery: indentured servitude!” He beamed at me.
I shouldn’t ask. I had to ask. “Indentured servitude?”
“It’s a contract where the indentured servant agrees to work without pay for a fixed number of years in exchange for food, clothing, and shelter. Contracts can still be bought and sold, so the time limit is the only real difference. We’re advertising it to our clients as the new and improved slavery, where you still don’t have to pay your workers, but you also don’t even have to look after them once they get old. You can simply cast them out on the streets with nothing if they get sick.”
A pit formed in the center of my stomach. “This is legal?”
“We’ve investigated the new laws quite carefully and already have test cases in progress. I can assure you, no one will be dropping dead from broken life-oaths. How fast do you believe you can select the debtors? Within the week would be preferable.”
