Sheo was smiling. “And see if you can get your father to give you that two hundred you owe me while you are at it.”
4
“Not at home?” I was a little surprised. Mother never left the house. She was a good wife as these things are measured in the city and the home was her territory, supervising slaves and such, balancing the household budget and hopefully giving me three thousand of it without father knowing. “Where is she?”
The slave wasn't as deferential as I would like. He didn't actually try and stop me from entering, but I had the feeling that he wanted to. Damned impudent of him, if you want my opinion. If he were mine I'd slap him down a bit. Not that I'm a bully, you understand, but a slave has to know his place. Captured, born or self-sold, an air of deference to free men is the least they can offer for their food and board.
“Your mother did not see fit to inform me, young Master.”
At least he knew who I was. I'd never seen him before. Father had many slaves and traded them as some men trade horses. Buy or breed, train and sell. Actually, he kept other slaves to do the actual training. It was a classic case of have money make money, and he never missed a trick, which is why his fortune continues to grow. Personally, I'd never had enough of the stuff to make more than a token stab at it, and I was never very lucky at games of chance.
“When will she be back?”
“I was not informed, young Master.”
I kept moving, forcing the ignorant swine to follow me while we talked. I was heading for the private areas of the house, which I of course knew well. “Anyone else home? Sisters and such?”
“Lady Rhia is in the sewing room, I believe.”
“Get some food in my slave.”
It was an order, and he couldn't refuse. One less mouth to feed for the day is one less mouth to feed. I'd get Rhia to have someone bring me something while I was visiting. The household was busy with slaves, whom I ignored as I made my way through the public areas and back to the sewing room where half a dozen women were doing woman things with cloth, my sister among them. She looked up and smiled as I greeted her.
“Good morning, spinster.”
“Hello, fat boy. And not for long, haven't you been told? I'm to be married.”
“Commiserations,” I flopped down on a seat next to her and stretched out my legs. “Who's the unlucky fellow?”
“Lucky. Think of my dowry!”
“I do, with envy. Pity I don't get one.”
“Men are supposed to make their own money, Sumto. It's Yuril Kelenthis Terian. He seems nice.”
I shrugged. I knew the family, of course. As old and powerful as our own. “I don't know if I remember him. How old is he?”
“Forty this year. His first wife died. He wants another. Father arranged it.” She shrugged, accepting her fate. Not too horrible a fate, actually, when you consider that she would have control of her own dowry. Her husband could, in law, advise and request but not control her money. It belonged to her and her children, not to him.
“Does all this give me a clue as to where Mother is?”
She raised an eyebrow archly. “You wanted something?”
Wrapping myself in dignity, I told her that I was merely paying my respects.
“Instead of paying your debts?”
“Any hope of some food?”
One of the household slaves was up and moving to the door before Rhia indicated that food should indeed be provided. I noticed that the slave was a pretty little thing with the long blond hair and the blue eyes so sought after by brothel owners and carnally minded patrons alike. I wondered if she were originally from the Gerrian tribes, and if so which one? If she could change shape, surely she would have turned into a bird and fled the city by now. Or would she? The life of a slave isn't so terrible; roof and food provided, duties usually not too arduous, especially if educated, quite a remarkable list of rights and protections under the law; a woman could bring a charge of rape against even the most powerful of patrons, for example, and be compensated. With a skill, a slave could earn and keep money of their own, sometimes enough to buy themselves free. A well educated person in dire straits sometimes sold themselves as the purchase price was theirs by law and could be invested; also a slave was no longer responsible for debts incurred while free. Only the most intractable slaves had a hard time of it, working the fields or worse, the mines. Of course, the downside to the whole thing was the simple lack of freedom to shape your own destiny, and I can quite see where, if a barbarian were captured in war and ripped from his home and society, he might take the whole thing badly.
“If you go to the war, I'll take on your debts.”
“What?”
She sighed, rather theatrically, I thought. “Sumto. You can't go on like this. Father will cut off your allowance soon enough, has threatened already to evict you, and will eventually disown you. You do know that don't you? He will do it. Don't think he won't.”
The thoughtful frown came naturally enough to my face as I avoided thinking about any of this. War and politics don't interest me, yet they were the only career open to me. It was a problem I had wrestled with through my teens and into my twenties.
“You can't avoid responsibility forever.”
Is that what I was doing? And if so, why not? I could speak and read seven languages, do numbers in my head, knew the whole history of our people (especially our family) and much of that of other peoples (some in their own words, which was a bit different than our version, I can tell you!) Also, I had some understanding of magic, though as such teachings have to be earned by status achieved or paid for in hard cash I had less learning in this area than I'd like. Actually, just a few cantrips; probably less than any noble in the city – apart from Kerral, of course, and he had only just this moment joined our ranks. And, of course, I was limited by the size of the one stone I owned. The Colleges, and some patrons, owned stones that you could barely hold in one hand.
“You have to do something!”
And I would, I would. I have skills, and could doubtless earn a living doing something. Not in the city of course, I was far to well known for that. I couldn't be seen too be doing something, like some commoner. But in the provinces I might be able to set myself up in some style, provide a few small magics for some nobleman or some client king, in secret, anonymously, always at risk of being kidnapped or killed for the stone itself… hmmm, maybe not. Still, I didn't have to wear the stone openly, or bruit it about that I was of the city, or who exactly I was.
“Do you have any idea how angry father is with you? How close he is to carrying out his threat to disown you? Without your name to protect you, how would you survive? The only reason your creditors don't take you to court is because father made it quietly clear that anyone who did so would suffer unpleasant consequences for the damage done to his reputation, the reputation of the family name, of course, not for any consequences to you.”
Of course, she was right. If no one knew who I was, I wouldn't receive guest rights anywhere, so perhaps I should travel openly from court to court around the Client Kingdoms. That might actually be fun. Of course, I would need funds to travel with. But then travel was such an uncomfortable business even at the best of times…
“Sumto, are you listening to me?”
I picked amongst the sweetmeats that had arrived at my side. “Of course. I'm thinking about it.” I turned my thoughtful face to her so that she could see that I was indeed thinking about it.
“What's to think about? Go with the army, do a year, with our ancestry there is no need to do more. Use your share of the spoils to start a career. It's simple. All you have to do is do it!”
“Like Kerial did?”
It was a low blow. Our older brother had gone to war and not survived. They hadn't even found a body to send home. As I should have expected, tears welled up at once and, quite honestly, I almost let my own emotions get a hold of me. I had been thirteen at the time, and Rhia eleven. It had been hero worship, pure and simple, and I
