“This is the Great Vond,” he said, gesturing toward the warlock. “You all probably guessed that.”
Several women nodded.
“You all know he now rules this land?”
Seven women, by Sterren’s count, nodded. He guessed the other five spoke no Semmat.
“You know he is a warlock, a magician?”
More nods.
“He is also a man. He has brought you twelve here to choose women to...” Sterren paused, wishing he knew more Semmat; he could think of a hundred delicate ways to phrase this in Ethsharitic. “To warm his bed,” he said at last.
That elicited not nods, but startlement, anger, fear, and at least one crimson blush.
Vond was watching all this, and, Sterren saw worriedly, looking bored.
“Sterren,” he said, “I take it you’ve just explained why I brought them here.”
Sterren nodded.
“Tell them,” Vond said, “that any who wish to leave are free to go, but that those who stay, and who please me, will be richly rewarded.”
Hesitantly, Sterren translated this speech into Semmat as best he could.
The seven who understood looked at one another, clearly considering the offer. Kyrina looked at the warlock carefully for a long moment, then turned and strode for the exit.
Vond waved a hand, and the great double doors swung wide to let her pass.
Another woman, a noblewoman this time, hesitantly followed her.
One of the five who did not understand Semmat seemed to catch on, and literally ran out the door.
Others followed, each after her own fashion, until five remained, three of whom spoke Semmat. The five eyed each other warily.
Sterren watched them, puzzled. Why had these five stayed? None of them was starving; in fact, two of the five were dressed very well indeed. They should not be so desperate as to choose slavery; and surely concubinage, in this case, was a form of slavery.
Perhaps, he thought, they didn’t trust Vond to keep his word and feared he would take revenge upon them if they left. Certainly, all five looked somewhat nervous.
Or perhaps they didn’t see it the way he did. They might see sharing Vond’s bed as a route to power and wealth. If that was it, Sterren was sure they were wrong.
Or perhaps it was just curiosity or a sexual interest in the warlock. Sterren hadn’t really given the matter much thought, but he supposed Vond was attractive enough, and there were always stories about magicians. For himself, Sterren could see no reason a knowledge of arcane skills should imply a knowledge of erotic skills, but there were always stories.
Most likely, he thought, it was a combination of all of these that kept the five of them in the audience chamber. He found that unappealing and decided he did not care to watch any further. He started to turn away.
“Sterren,” Vond said, “I need you to translate!”
He had forgotten that. He turned back, reluctantly. “Couldn’t one of your servants do that?”
“You’re here; they aren’t. Besides, you speak Ethsharitic better than any of them.”
Sterren had to admit that this was true.
“Let’s start with their names,” the warlock said, waving a hand at the women.
Sterren did the best he could, given that only three of the women spoke Semmat; a fourth spoke Ophkaritic, the fifth Ksinallionese. One of the Semman women knew a few words of Ksinallionese, and the Ksinallionese spoke Ophkaritic, so that nobody was totally cut off.
And of course, gestures and facial expressions conveyed plenty of information as well.
After half an hour or so, Vond chose the Ksinallionese to take a stroll with him and become better acquainted, and Sterren escaped with a sigh of relief, while one of the palace servants, summoned by Vond’s magic, escorted the other four to the apartments they were henceforth to share.
Sterren made his way out the citadel’s main gate and looked down Vond’s artificial hill at the surrounding countryside. The land had turned green with spring, and the peasants were out in the fields, tending their crops. The sky was a radiant crystal blue, with a handful of soft white clouds sailing like white-robed wizards across it.
A party of a dozen or so men was marching up the road toward the gate. Four of them were Vond’s red-tunicked palace guards, and the rest were in rags.
Sterren saw to his horror that the ragged ones were in chains. Most of them looked resigned, but two or three looked terrified.
“Hai,” he called, “What going on?”
The foremost guard saw him, acknowledged his presence with a bow, and called back one word.
Sterren did not catch it; the guard’s accent distorted his Ethsharitic beyond easy comprehension.
“What?” Sterren called back.
“Slaves!” the soldiers repeated. “We bring slaves!”
“What for?” Sterren asked, as he and the guard approached each other.
The guard spread his hands in the Ksinallionese equivalent of a shrug. “The Great Vond ordered,” he said.
“Where did these people come from?” Sterren persisted.
The guard hesitated; clearly, his Ethsharitic was not very good. “We go to Akalla, buy them, bring them back,” he explained slowly.
Sterren stopped and stepped aside as the party marched up past him. He watched them go without interfering.
At least they had been slaves already, and not innocent peasants Vond had had enslaved.
In fact, he supposed that it was perfectly reasonable for Vond to keep slaves, but Sterren found it a little hard to accept. For most of his life he had been far more likely to deal with slavers as merchandise than as a customer. He had never quite been reduced to sleeping on the city streets, which would have made him fair game for the slavers, and he had never been caught stealing, which could also put cuffs on a person, but those had always been closer than the sort of wealth that would include buying anyone.
He had known a few slaves, either before or after their enslavement. He had never exchanged more than a few polite words with a slave-owner, except Vond. Or, he suddenly realized, perhaps King Phenvel; some of his castle servants might well be owned, rather than hired. He watched the slaves march into the palace. Vond was buying slaves and acquiring a harem. Was this necessarily tyranny? After all, he bought his slaves on the market, and his chosen concubines were there voluntarily.
No, Sterren decided, it wasn’t tyranny, but it wasn’t a good sign, either.
CHAPTER 33
Vond conquered Thanoria on the sixteenth of Green-growth, 5221. He took a sixnight or so to consolidate his conquest this time, taking care of details he had been rather haphazard about in dealing with Semma, Ksinallion, and Ophkar. He arranged for taxes to be paid into his imperial treasury, appointed provincial officials from the former royal government, selected candidates for his harem, and so forth.
That done, he conquered Skaia on the twenty-fourth.
Enmurinon went next, on the third of Longdays, followed by Akalla of the Diamond on the fourteenth. He took special care there, due to the presence of the port, and inquired after recent arrivals, hoping for word of immigrating warlocks.
He was disappointed by the replies he received, and on the nineteenth he returned to his palace in a foul temper.
He concentrated on other affairs for several days after that, building roads, tenements, and market halls, getting acquainted with his new concubines, and dealing with his subjects.
Rather to his surprise, he found that he did not enjoy actually ruling his empire. Settling disputes, administering justice, appointing officials, and the other traditional duties of royalty were dull and time-consuming, and provided no opportunity for him to display his magic.