A Shadowed Mien
Prologue
"The existence of slavery is not the cruelty that we must address. The weak and the foolish are destined to be protected and ordered by the strong and the virtuous. But giving a slave who has become worthy no path to his freedom, denying him any possibility of exatas, will force him, being a man, to choose to seize it."
-Talan The Elder,
Conjectures
Part One:
“Our final order of business. I have no nuccion in this city, and the Letoriate is a fortress, not a palace. The capital moves with me, to Alma.”
The patriarchs of the eight greatest nuccia cried out in anguish and protest. The marines lining the back wall of the Letoriate’s upper balcony rammed the butts of their spears against the floor to silence them.
“Redeemer Avetas, chosen scion of our god, has charged me with the welfare of our people. I cannot protect the Accanon if I am killed in my bed in this den of thieves. The capital. Moves.”
The Prince of the Accans turned, staring into the eyes of each noble in turn. “Cross me and I’ll lay your bloody entrails across half the city. Kill me…and Avetas will do worse.”
He looked back out to sea, armor clinking slightly. “You are dismissed. Exatas.”
“Exatas,” the forlorn nobles said. As they filed out, Rutarri called out, “Vecco. Give me a word.”
Vecco Tepecci, slender and young for a ruler of a great family, returned to the balcony overlooking the bay. Far below the prow of a sleek war galley cut through the surf; the beating of the great drums to help the oarsmen keep pace was audible even on the balcony. Tepecci stood next to Rutarri, grinning wryly.
“Oh dear, you made them think. They aren’t going to like you for that, my Prince.”
The Admiral-Prince grunted. “They can play their games in this city, but their power is broken.”
Tepecci nodded. “Not all of the Great Nuccia are opposed to your schemes of centralization, Arto.”
“Even though I had your uncle killed in the street like a dog?”
He winced. “My lord prince, it is not what you say that the Nuccia hate, but how you say it.”
“I am a sailor, Vecco. I spent decades as a merchant, telling traders that their wares were sh-t so I could buy them for less. All people are merchants. I simply haggle with them.”
“And have you brought me here to…haggle?”
“I know that the Exatai owes you a significant debt.”
“House Tepecci had no choice but to lend to the Redeemer.”
“You placed your gold into a venture, expecting victory and further influence. Lending money to the Satar is not much different from lending it to a sea-captain to purchase a new ship, or to a farmer seeking to purchase more livestock.”
Vecco smiled wryly, leaning back on the balcony. “This is about your pet project of enriching the commoners, isn’t it? Look around you, Arto! Accans are prosperous. The small families provide services to the great. The great protect the small. The mines are rich and the fields are plentiful. The Satar lust for war, we sate their desire with steel and bread, and they protect us. The system works, my prince. Try to change it and it will destroy you.”
Faint shouts from the warship docking far below.
“The system HAS changed. I was born to a common man, and now I am Prince. That is what the Satar have given us. Any man who possesses exatas can rise.”
“And any man who lacks it can fall.”
Prince Arto popped his neck. “Have you ever lived outside of your nuccion, or your family’s holdings in the countryside?”
Vecco furrowed his brows. “Besides the visits to Magha and Seis, no…why would I?”
“Why would you indeed.” The Prince smiled ruefully. “I know your nuccion is now the wealthiest in Acca. My men have told me of Rutarri’s clients and lands falling directly into your hands.”
“I want power, my Prince. All men do.”
“Then do what you have done for the Redeemer. Offer your gold to men and women who need it, and shall do something with it. Then, as the Exatai will repay you with gold and influence, smaller men and women shall too.”
“And what will these smaller men and women give me if they lack influence, my perspicacious Prince?”
“Interest, collateral, favors.”
Tepecci stroked his mustache, contemplating. “Collateral…is this some southern idea?”
“Many trading houses in the Nakalani grant funds to men who can give them something of value for safekeeping. If they fail to pay, these houses keep it.”
The Accan lord considered this for a moment. “Ah, we have a similar arrangement among many of the Nuccia. When a small family is to perform a task for us, we keep their youngest son as a servant. A hostage, you might say.”
“Well…in the south, the collateral is some form of property.”
“Yes, that is what I said. I am...intrigued by this offer. I will offer the gold of House Tepecci to any who can offer me this ‘collateral’. Even the commoners whom you love so much. But, if they are not people of means, the collateral will be their freedom.”
The seagulls cried, floating effortlessly over the stones that the men had senselessly piled up.
“Done,” said the Prince.
The banker smiled. “Perhaps my first loan can be for the construction of a new, beautiful palace in Alma for you and your family.”
“Perhaps. But I would have you speak first to Prince Elikas.”
