'So cold!' Lucian's teeth chattered in his mouth as he shivered under his cloak, a fierce wind blowing against his face.
The nights were freezing cold in the Southern Alliance.
Riding a horse, he was traveling through a stony desert, led by Savage and Scythe. They had taken Lucian's deal, and were now leading him to the place where the slaves were kept.
Treason was not something to be taken lightly, and that's why Lucian operated under his real identity, though it may seem foolish to do so for some.
'Honesty can disarm suspicion better than lies can hide it,' Lucian thought.
People would keep politics away from him, knowing he dipped his hand into both sides of the conflict.
The irony was that rulers who hated each other still needed trade: spices, silk, metals, horses, and luxury goods kept economies (and wars) running. So merchants like Lucian were often tolerated.
He took advantage of his weaker constitution, which was unwanted by the military and burdensome to society. The expensive medicine for his illness gave him no choice but to make money, a lot of it.
His net worth now was higher than that of most of his peers: he expanded his small garden by an acre (4000m2) and built his first green house made out of glass.
He also bought four acres of land near the south; further away from the towns. He didn't have the means to protect it yet, only the garden by bribing the town guards to keep an occasional check on it (cheaper than hiring his own).
So when he saw the large army stationed near the slave camp, Lucian realized that the slaves earned more than enough coins to make up for the security costs. It was a large fenced area with a watchtower on the top.
There was a Gold Mine nearby and Lucian couldn't help but salivate at the sight. Messing up with it could bring a death sentence to anyone, even a duke.
"..." Scythe looked at Savage then at Lucian, and then at the army up front, "Maybe we shouldn't..."
"Are you scared?" Savage taunted, "After coming all this way? Are you turning back now?"
Scythe snorted, "Not in your life, you bastard." He motioned for the rest of the men to move, "You better know what you're doing, northerner," he told Lucian before he went on.
Lucian smiled knowingly in response, but inside, he was as nervous as them, 'I hope I do too.'
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The slaves were the kingdom's property by default. They posed a high risk, so not many bought slaves for their protection or their workforce.
Prisoners would be a better word to describe their circumstances. But instead of being held inside cells in a prison, they were sent to the slave camp to work.
The person responsible for the slave camp was a bald man, strict and harsh, he didn't take bribes nor did he negotiate with anyone. He was a soldier and a loyal one at that.
"Why do you need slaves?" he asked after a small talk with Scythe and Savage.
They were inside one of the tents in the camp, sitting around a round wooden table.
"Your ability to communicate with each other through great distances is very useful," Lucian began, "but I can't risk Scythe's and Savage's men's lives in case someone accuses them of a crime against their kingdom."
Lucian continued, sipping on the offered cup of water, "Slaves, on the other hand, have no support network to rely on. I will also have an easier time explaining to my authorities the reason for their presence."
The man, Grim, listened with a stoic face, but he seemed to be considering Lucian's words. "Can you also get a hold on the new species of dogs in the North? I heard they are very intelligent and obedient," he said.
Lucian smiled, "I can get them," he agreed.
Grim nodded in satisfaction, leading them to the selection area while ordering his people to line up the candidates.
"Choose your men," Grim said.
There were at least two hundred of them, all beaten down and tired-looking.
Lucian could see that they had been worked to the bone. He walked up and down the line, examining each of them. His eyes stopped on a familiar figure.
"This one," he called out, "What are his crimes?" he asked, looking at the man in charge of the camp, "Why is he here?"
After they explained to Lucian the reason for Jax being a slave, he made his choice.
Jax didn't recognize Lucian due to the hood and his lack of care.
Lucian didn't mind, his eyes scanning the rest of slaves for any reaction to the news.
Only one person had an expression he was looking for. It was subtle, but there was a hint of worry in his eyes. Lucian approached him, "This one."
Another scan for reactions. A hopeful look was all he needed, "This one," Lucian said.
And the best for the last.
Lucian's gaze fell on the person who had shown a begging look. The person who was the most desperate to be chosen.
A little boy with a dirty face and ragged clothes.
"I'll take this kid as well," Lucian decided.
Around eight years old, the kid was the youngest in the group, but his determination was the strongest of them all. He had a fire in his eyes that reminded Lucian of himself.
The boy's eyes lit up when he saw Lucian point at him, "T-thank you, sir!" he cried, wiping his face with the back of his hand, "I won't disappoint you, sir! You can count on me! I'll do anything you ask!"
"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. So young and so eager to die," Lucian couldn't help but tease the kid, "What if I treat you worse than this camp? You might die before you can say 'I regret it'."
The kid shuddered in fear, already regretting it. He didn't seem like the smartest person around, but he was eager to serve and quick to obey.
"Done," Lucian turned to Grim, "I'll take these four. They will do."
Grim raised an eyebrow at his choices, but didn't comment on them. Nobody could come this far and not have a good sense of judgment. Arriving with not one but two backers was a sign of someone that would go far.
He approved Lucian request and returned to the tent to sign documents that gave Lucian full ownership of the slaves.
After Lucian left, Grim put down the blood soaked bag of money, "..." looking inside without counting the coins one more time.
He just thought about how he had probably earned a connection worth more than this bag of coins. His guts were telling him so.