“Slavery is theft – theft of a life, theft of work, theft of any property or produce, theft even of the children a slave might have borne.”
Kevin Bates
Captain’s POV
The week had dragged on, waiting for the Silverseas to open their home to petitions. Apparently, except for the set of games held on the island, this was the only time non-family members were allowed on the island. The stories of individuals being thrown into the lake by a grumpy grandfather were unified in their retelling. However, most of the stories were now hearsay rather than recent events. Still, the town’s general opinion of the island was to stay off it unless you had business there. The Silversea’s extended family, though, were spread throughout the whole town and seemed to be in every industry the town had managed to develop. He had picked up a few deals from some of the supporting families but not what he was truly after, the deep-sea pearls.
Gathering information on the town, though, revealed that there had been a small number of significant events in recent days. Firstly, there was the rise of the noble family. On the one hand, the fact that they were a new noble family meant that he could profit significantly from any sales. On the other, the fact that they had managed to rise and had such a broad base of support in the town meant that they could hardly be idiots and easily fleeced. Still, they probably did not have any solid backing being too new to have acquired it.
Secondly, there had been a visit by an Archbishop of Tramontana who had, after blessing the whole town, taken the local priest with him yet left a Bishop in his place. The town was clearly happy with the change and the move up in the world, but it begged the question of what the clergy had seen that supported the change. The town was hardly a highly populated area, and while the deep-sea pearls would be an important trade good, it was only one trade good and not worth placing a Bishop to ensure their access to the market. Something else was happening here, but he could not for the life of him tell what it was.
Thirdly an entrance to the Lodestone had been discovered west of the town. This would likely be big business for the town or lead to its destruction. At the moment, though, it was too soon for any significant profit from the few monsters that had slipped forth. Moreover, it meant that any of the weapons on the island had already been bought, with any extra ones to be made already ordered with a long waiting list still to be made by the local blacksmith. It was infuriating to have made so little progress, but he could not risk selling all his products when holding out for deep-sea pearls.
The one silver lining to the whole situation was that he had seen neither hair nor tail of the beastkin Namir, who seemed to have disappeared into the long grass after his explosive and threatening arrival at the town. The townspeople were still talking about it a week later, and they were still giving some of the guards grief over their actions. Little did they know what he was actually like, and the guards' actions were truly justified.
. . .
Finally, it was the petitioning day. He had paid for passage alongside other petitioners on a small boat to the island. He had even slipped his fellow petitioners a small bribe or two to ensure he would be first in line and make the first petition. He had no desire to be stuck in port a single day longer. If he could sell his goods quickly and they could be picked up as swiftly as possible, he might even be able to set sell today. His samples and slaves to carry them took up half of the boat, transporting them across the water. He was tempted to use his skills to get it to move faster, but he was not in charge and had to sit back and watch as the island, in the centre of the lake, shrouded in mist, grew closer.
As the boat approached the island, he looked up to survey it in more detail as it was revealed from the morning haze. The island was intriguing. Where other noble families might have had contoured gardens and a line of trees to direct visitors to the entrance here, the island appeared flattened and glistened white in the daylight. The shore was remarkably flat, with pools of water reflecting both the mountain and the sky, a black road leading due west to the base of the mountain.
Together they walked along to the entrance of their hall, his slaves' heads bowed as they heaved the chests along in his footsteps. The others in the entourage had clearly visited before, and the striking view was neither impossible nor awe-inspiring to them any longer. Even he found it suitably impressive, especially so far from the compass continent and modern civilisation. It almost looked like ruins from a former time, but apparently, it was only recently constructed. It must have taken some seriously high skills or magic to have carved it from the mountain’s face. Even the mountain’s slope had been carved with sheer walls working their way around, although the natural rock of the mountain lay above them, unshaped by human hands. He did not have time to stop and stare, leading the petitioners as he was. However, the walk from the boats through the salterns gave him long enough to take in their majesty. Huge stone doors stood open to welcome them into the great hall. Large enough to accommodate even northern giants from Tramontana. The black basalt floor was polished to a fine reflective sheen, but patterns could be glimpsed in the mirror-like floor. He caught a glance at the people lining the hall. The Adal’s banners hanging above their families from columns before his eyes finally fell onto the young lord and lady at the end of the hall.
That was not all he saw; he was sad to say. His troublesome passenger, Namir, the beastkin from Ostro, was now standing behind what could only be the young Silversea Lord. That was not all, though. Behind the young Silversea Lady was something else he was surprised to see. Though the lady was not much older than her sibling, surprisingly, she had an elf standing behind her. So far from civilisation, they might be, but with those two advising them, they would not be ripped off anytime soon. Also standing with them were two elderly men, one the Seneschal Smit he had struggled to get hold of this week in town; the other, by process of elimination, must have been the cantankerous grandfather who historically enjoyed throwing visitors into the lake. That alone was more than enough high levelled and worldly-wise individuals to dampen his enthusiasm, but there was one more surprise he could see standing to the side. There were not one but three members of the Lodestar church also attending Silversea’s morning petition. A bishop, an acolyte and even a compass knight. Facing such intimidating support for the young lord and lady, he realised they would brook no disrespect. He hoped they would still be interested in what he was selling, but he would have to play it straight. So many lords and ladies would have left it to their retainers to buy and sell their goods, but evidently, here, they handled it themselves.
He bowed low and opened with, “Lord and Lady Silversea, greetings in the light of the Lodestar.” Typically he would have left off the last, but in the church's presence, it was essential to at least be seen as polite though it came across to his cynical self as pious. There seemed to be little light from the lodestar many a night at sea.
“Welcome to Wester Ponente, Captain Kashif.” Lady Silversea, the young girl replied. He had not kept his name hidden, and they had clearly already been informed of who he was. It was not difficult to guess his identity. The tattoos, tanned skin, black hair and purple eyes made the Libeccian captain at the head of a small train of slaves carrying his trading goods easy to identify.
“It is a pleasure to receive your welcome,” He rose from his bow and gestured for his attendants to move forward and open the chests. “I have travelled from the distant southern kingdom of Ostro through the Libeccian seas to bring you the finest goods of our two kingdoms.”
He signalled to the first slave to open the chest, “Silk, of the most luxurious weave, in fabric for your design or the clothing of southern styles.” The trunk opened to display his wares, the lid lifting and the front lowered to create a travelling display of the textiles aimed toward the nobles on their seats of power. Moving onto the second chest, it too was opened, releasing a series of scents, “Spices, from across the compass continent to bring colour and zest to your cooking.” He continued down the line of chests, each being opened to display the wealth of goods he was offering. “Gold is ready to be shaped or formed into the finest rings and jewellery. Ivory bracelets and necklaces. Beads of the finest glassware and gemstones. Ceramics of bowls, plates and cups. Feathers to line your linen and fill your pillows.” His spiel continued until seven chests lay opened on display. He had left the chest of salt behind. The price on this island was already far lower than what he had paid for it. He would make no profit attempting to sell any of it here though he was not averse to picking up more before leaving.
The children sat forward in their chairs, clearly interested in the novel and new products he offered. The question was how much they were willing to pay for the goods. “Would you be interested in any of my wares?” Captain Kashif asked after they had a moment to take in the wide variety of what he was hauling in his hold.
“You have a range of products we would like to purchase.” The young Lady Silversea responded, not leaving it up to the Seneschal to conduct the negotiations. He could not abuse that fact under the eyes of so many of her supporters.
“And what would you be able to purchase them with? There seems to be little gold or silver circulating among the townspeople.” Nevertheless, the captain's enforced stay had not been entirely wasted. He now had a good idea of the local economy and its values. The main problem was that most of the more expensive items and goods were bartered for as much as sold. They might not have had sufficient currency to spend, but they knew what they were worth.
The Lady replied, “We have an abundance of Salt to sell if you are interested in trading.”
“Some salt is always a valuable good, but I already have some to trade with when the price is high, and here it is low. However, I would not say no to an exchange in part. Does your house not offer else?” He asked, driving at something else.
“If the price here is low, then you stand to make all the greater profit selling it elsewhere.” She countered.
“Yes, but the tax man always takes his toll on salt sold. In some city-states, it is not worth the slave that carries it after the tax is taken.” He argued.
“There is no taxation on imports or exports on Wester Ponente; we are a pioneer island of Ponente. The only tax is to our house and no more than the tithe to the Lodestar Church.” She rebutted.
“A tenth?” Captain Kashif quickly queried, suddenly intrigued by surprise.
“A tenth.” She confirmed.
The cost of the salt in town was suddenly explained. It was untaxed. Salt was taxed everywhere on import and export, but not here, it seemed. He supposed that when the noble house was producing the salt, and they need not pay tax to the Prince of Ponente, there was no point in taxing themselves. He knew that if he could smuggle it ashore, he could make twice the profit without suffering taxes on both ends of its journey.
While he was interested in the white gold, it was not what he had hoped to purchase after travelling so far. “Is there nothing else your house could trade me?” He asked once more.
“We have a few more goods we could trade with you. Unfortunately, our presentation is not quite as practised as your own. But if you look to the left, there is a table of what we can offer for your return trip to the compass continent.” As she finished her statement, the seneschal clapped, and two servants pulled back a cloth to reveal a table covered in fresh produce.
The captain looked left at the bowls filled with fruit, dates, grapes, apples, oranges, pears, and lemons; the list continued. Not only fruit but corn, beans, and other vegetables were also spread out across the table. The captain stood still, taking in the wide variety of options available. There were even some of the spices he had offered among them. It was startling to see such variety when it was unavailable in town, and they were so far from the compass continent where most of these goods were customarily grown. It was utterly unanticipated.
“I am sure a more varied diet would be appreciated by both yourself and your crew on your return journey and that such exotic fare would be easily traded wherever else you might stop on your journey back to Libeccio.” She continued to be proud of the wide variety of products and knowledgeable enough to know their value to a ship needing fresh supplies before they departed.
“Again, in part, I would be happy to trade some of your produce for part of my goods but only a part. I hoped to find more exclusive goods unavailable in Libeccio or Ostro.” He angled for the finer goods he hoped for.
“Of course, of course. If you look to your right.” And once more, the seneschal clapped with Des and Sinis pulling back a cloth to reveal the processed goods. Amphora or wines and spirits we had experimented with in creating. Smoked fish and dried fruit were also placed alongside them.
“Once more, in part and after tasting, I am sure I can find a market for them.” He re-joined. “However, I was hoping to acquire something I believe you are selling to Ponente, Deep-sea pearls.” After revealing all he had to trade, he could profit from each item offered. Nevertheless, the most significant profit was to be had from the pearls, even if the house only had a few of them to deliver.
“Ah, yes, our pearls. The silver from the sea alongside the white gold on which our house has been built.” She mused while playing with a pearl necklace of her own. He has not yet agreed to part with the product despite his aims. “Before we discuss the pearls.” She persisted, “I hoped you might indulge me in a short history of our island.”
Although frustrated at the delay, Captain Kashif calmly replied, “It would be my pleasure.” Keen to keep the child happy regardless of the delay. In the end, he would deal with an adult after the pleasantries were concluded, although he had to admit that she was doing an excellent job leading him around in circles while the prize lay within it.
“The last of the Wester Isles to be claimed by Ponente, our island, was settled 75 years ago. It was the last to be settled due to the cliffs that protect us now but originally hindered the exploration of Wester Ponente all those years ago.” The child started her story of the island’s settling.
Captain Kashif stood silently in place, pondering where this story was leading.
“It had taken 20 years for the islanders of Wester Levante and Little Wester to carve out the stairs and indeed even the cove where you docked before Ponente could send a significant enough force to ensure the island was safely settled.” She highlighted the initial difficulties.
He nodded in interest showing that he was listening to her little lesson. Although he was unsure of the lesson she wished to impart.
“Our island is the furthest west the Principality of Ponente had ever reached, and no noble wished to leave for what would effectively be a banishment from court. Moreover, the deep sea pearls had yet to be discovered, so nothing was worth venturing so far out from the compass continent. Only with the encouragement of Lodestar Church to expand the horizon and the desire to add another isle to the principality paid for the expedition.” She continued her tale.
“Without the wealth of nobles unwilling to support such an expansion, the Prince’s father attempted to recruit from the merchants, but there was no money to be made this far out, and they, too, refused to make an attempt or fund the journey. So finally, he called for the commoners and the indentured, offering to cancel their debts for a fresh start on a new island. Many stepped forward for a new chance and freedom from debt, but still, it was not enough bodies to subdue an untamed island. Our land was bought in the blood of our ancestors as much as it was with coin.”
Captain Kashif had honestly not considered the history of the Isles or their settling. Every kingdom had their own methods of expansion. Some succeed, and others fail. It mattered little to the merchant making his way in the world unless he was trapped in the middle of their machinations.
“So, in the end, to make up the numbers, he turned to secure slaves. He acquired the other half of the settlers with the one product he controlled the tax upon, salt. The nobles and merchants keen to gain their pound of flesh and unhappy with the enforced purchase of their slaves demanded their weight in salt for the slaves. Thus was born the phrase ‘not worth his salt’ after the prince's father's forced purchase of slaves across Ponente to support his expansion of the kingdom.” She explained.
Captain Kashif had a sinking feeling as he looked not toward the young lady but at the beastkin, who stood behind the lord with a slight smile. He already knew the beastkin’s stance on slavery, and he had found a similar soul in Lady Silversea. He had noticed the lack of slaves in the town but considered that part of being in the Kingdom of Ponente which always had far fewer than the neighbouring kingdom of Libeccio. Possibly due to the Prince's fathers’ actions all those years ago; who knew?
“My great-grandmother on my father’s side was one of those slaves, and we are worth far more than our own weight in salt. As a pioneer island, we pay no tax and make our own rules, one of which is that there is no slavery on our island. Your four attendants are not slaves on our island but free men." she stated, laying out the island's law.
The slaves, untrusting of the statement, looked to him for the truth. The problem was that in the face of the Church, the elf and beastkin, whatever the child said as Lady Silversea, the ruling noble of Wester Ponente, was the law.
"However, we are not so uncivilised as to not pay their weight’s worth in salt.” She finished and gestured once more. Four large bags of salt were brought in to stand by each slave that had accompanied him. Despite their fears, they were beginning to process that what was possibly happening was real.
He suddenly regretted not allowing them breakfast since departing the ship with their chests this morning or ensuring they had drunk enough water rather than relying on their skills, stats and metier to carry the goods. He could have gotten a few more kilograms of salt from the enforced transaction.
“If you wish to purchase our deep sea pearls in exchange for your goods, then you will have to abide by the laws of the land. Every slave on your ship is to be given the offer of freedom here on Wester Ponente before we consider your offer for the pearls.”
“Every slave?” He asked, concerned. If every slave decided to live here free instead of returning with him to Libeccio, he would be running the ship on a skeleton crew, with many of the sailors being forced to take up the slave's tasks. It would be hard but not impossible. He would even make a profit on the salt.
"Every slave." the young Lady Silversea confirmed.
"In that case, may I see the pearls." Then, ever pragmatic, Captain Kashif moved on to how to make the most profit out of this.
A NOTE FROM NOTLIMAH Thank you to Patreons past, present and future for your patience and support with my writing Thank you to all of you, readers, for your comments and reviews.
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“Slavery is theft – theft of a life, theft of work, theft of any property or produce, theft even of the children a slave might have borne.”
Kevin Bates
Captain’s POV
The week had dragged on, waiting for the Silverseas to open their home to petitions. Apparently, except for the set of games held on the island, this was the only time non-family members were allowed on the island. The stories of individuals being thrown into the lake by a grumpy grandfather were unified in their retelling. However, most of the stories were now hearsay rather than recent events. Still, the town’s general opinion of the island was to stay off it unless you had business there. The Silversea’s extended family, though, were spread throughout the whole town and seemed to be in every industry the town had managed to develop. He had picked up a few deals from some of the supporting families but not what he was truly after, the deep-sea pearls.
Gathering information on the town, though, revealed that there had been a small number of significant events in recent days. Firstly, there was the rise of the noble family. On the one hand, the fact that they were a new noble family meant that he could profit significantly from any sales. On the other, the fact that they had managed to rise and had such a broad base of support in the town meant that they could hardly be idiots and easily fleeced. Still, they probably did not have any solid backing being too new to have acquired it.
Secondly, there had been a visit by an Archbishop of Tramontana who had, after blessing the whole town, taken the local priest with him yet left a Bishop in his place. The town was clearly happy with the change and the move up in the world, but it begged the question of what the clergy had seen that supported the change. The town was hardly a highly populated area, and while the deep-sea pearls would be an important trade good, it was only one trade good and not worth placing a Bishop to ensure their access to the market. Something else was happening here, but he could not for the life of him tell what it was.
Thirdly an entrance to the Lodestone had been discovered west of the town. This would likely be big business for the town or lead to its destruction. At the moment, though, it was too soon for any significant profit from the few monsters that had slipped forth. Moreover, it meant that any of the weapons on the island had already been bought, with any extra ones to be made already ordered with a long waiting list still to be made by the local blacksmith. It was infuriating to have made so little progress, but he could not risk selling all his products when holding out for deep-sea pearls.
The one silver lining to the whole situation was that he had seen neither hair nor tail of the beastkin Namir, who seemed to have disappeared into the long grass after his explosive and threatening arrival at the town. The townspeople were still talking about it a week later, and they were still giving some of the guards grief over their actions. Little did they know what he was actually like, and the guards' actions were truly justified.
. . .
Finally, it was the petitioning day. He had paid for passage alongside other petitioners on a small boat to the island. He had even slipped his fellow petitioners a small bribe or two to ensure he would be first in line and make the first petition. He had no desire to be stuck in port a single day longer. If he could sell his goods quickly and they could be picked up as swiftly as possible, he might even be able to set sell today. His samples and slaves to carry them took up half of the boat, transporting them across the water. He was tempted to use his skills to get it to move faster, but he was not in charge and had to sit back and watch as the island, in the centre of the lake, shrouded in mist, grew closer.
As the boat approached the island, he looked up to survey it in more detail as it was revealed from the morning haze. The island was intriguing. Where other noble families might have had contoured gardens and a line of trees to direct visitors to the entrance here, the island appeared flattened and glistened white in the daylight. The shore was remarkably flat, with pools of water reflecting both the mountain and the sky, a black road leading due west to the base of the mountain.
Together they walked along to the entrance of their hall, his slaves' heads bowed as they heaved the chests along in his footsteps. The others in the entourage had clearly visited before, and the striking view was neither impossible nor awe-inspiring to them any longer. Even he found it suitably impressive, especially so far from the compass continent and modern civilisation. It almost looked like ruins from a former time, but apparently, it was only recently constructed. It must have taken some seriously high skills or magic to have carved it from the mountain’s face. Even the mountain’s slope had been carved with sheer walls working their way around, although the natural rock of the mountain lay above them, unshaped by human hands. He did not have time to stop and stare, leading the petitioners as he was. However, the walk from the boats through the salterns gave him long enough to take in their majesty. Huge stone doors stood open to welcome them into the great hall. Large enough to accommodate even northern giants from Tramontana. The black basalt floor was polished to a fine reflective sheen, but patterns could be glimpsed in the mirror-like floor. He caught a glance at the people lining the hall. The Adal’s banners hanging above their families from columns before his eyes finally fell onto the young lord and lady at the end of the hall.
That was not all he saw; he was sad to say. His troublesome passenger, Namir, the beastkin from Ostro, was now standing behind what could only be the young Silversea Lord. That was not all, though. Behind the young Silversea Lady was something else he was surprised to see. Though the lady was not much older than her sibling, surprisingly, she had an elf standing behind her. So far from civilisation, they might be, but with those two advising them, they would not be ripped off anytime soon. Also standing with them were two elderly men, one the Seneschal Smit he had struggled to get hold of this week in town; the other, by process of elimination, must have been the cantankerous grandfather who historically enjoyed throwing visitors into the lake. That alone was more than enough high levelled and worldly-wise individuals to dampen his enthusiasm, but there was one more surprise he could see standing to the side. There were not one but three members of the Lodestar church also attending Silversea’s morning petition. A bishop, an acolyte and even a compass knight. Facing such intimidating support for the young lord and lady, he realised they would brook no disrespect. He hoped they would still be interested in what he was selling, but he would have to play it straight. So many lords and ladies would have left it to their retainers to buy and sell their goods, but evidently, here, they handled it themselves.
He bowed low and opened with, “Lord and Lady Silversea, greetings in the light of the Lodestar.” Typically he would have left off the last, but in the church's presence, it was essential to at least be seen as polite though it came across to his cynical self as pious. There seemed to be little light from the lodestar many a night at sea.
“Welcome to Wester Ponente, Captain Kashif.” Lady Silversea, the young girl replied. He had not kept his name hidden, and they had clearly already been informed of who he was. It was not difficult to guess his identity. The tattoos, tanned skin, black hair and purple eyes made the Libeccian captain at the head of a small train of slaves carrying his trading goods easy to identify.
“It is a pleasure to receive your welcome,” He rose from his bow and gestured for his attendants to move forward and open the chests. “I have travelled from the distant southern kingdom of Ostro through the Libeccian seas to bring you the finest goods of our two kingdoms.”
He signalled to the first slave to open the chest, “Silk, of the most luxurious weave, in fabric for your design or the clothing of southern styles.” The trunk opened to display his wares, the lid lifting and the front lowered to create a travelling display of the textiles aimed toward the nobles on their seats of power. Moving onto the second chest, it too was opened, releasing a series of scents, “Spices, from across the compass continent to bring colour and zest to your cooking.” He continued down the line of chests, each being opened to display the wealth of goods he was offering. “Gold is ready to be shaped or formed into the finest rings and jewellery. Ivory bracelets and necklaces. Beads of the finest glassware and gemstones. Ceramics of bowls, plates and cups. Feathers to line your linen and fill your pillows.” His spiel continued until seven chests lay opened on display. He had left the chest of salt behind. The price on this island was already far lower than what he had paid for it. He would make no profit attempting to sell any of it here though he was not averse to picking up more before leaving.
The children sat forward in their chairs, clearly interested in the novel and new products he offered. The question was how much they were willing to pay for the goods. “Would you be interested in any of my wares?” Captain Kashif asked after they had a moment to take in the wide variety of what he was hauling in his hold.
“You have a range of products we would like to purchase.” The young Lady Silversea responded, not leaving it up to the Seneschal to conduct the negotiations. He could not abuse that fact under the eyes of so many of her supporters.
“And what would you be able to purchase them with? There seems to be little gold or silver circulating among the townspeople.” Nevertheless, the captain's enforced stay had not been entirely wasted. He now had a good idea of the local economy and its values. The main problem was that most of the more expensive items and goods were bartered for as much as sold. They might not have had sufficient currency to spend, but they knew what they were worth.
The Lady replied, “We have an abundance of Salt to sell if you are interested in trading.”
“Some salt is always a valuable good, but I already have some to trade with when the price is high, and here it is low. However, I would not say no to an exchange in part. Does your house not offer else?” He asked, driving at something else.
“If the price here is low, then you stand to make all the greater profit selling it elsewhere.” She countered.
“Yes, but the tax man always takes his toll on salt sold. In some city-states, it is not worth the slave that carries it after the tax is taken.” He argued.
“There is no taxation on imports or exports on Wester Ponente; we are a pioneer island of Ponente. The only tax is to our house and no more than the tithe to the Lodestar Church.” She rebutted.
“A tenth?” Captain Kashif quickly queried, suddenly intrigued by surprise.
“A tenth.” She confirmed.
The cost of the salt in town was suddenly explained. It was untaxed. Salt was taxed everywhere on import and export, but not here, it seemed. He supposed that when the noble house was producing the salt, and they need not pay tax to the Prince of Ponente, there was no point in taxing themselves. He knew that if he could smuggle it ashore, he could make twice the profit without suffering taxes on both ends of its journey.
While he was interested in the white gold, it was not what he had hoped to purchase after travelling so far. “Is there nothing else your house could trade me?” He asked once more.
“We have a few more goods we could trade with you. Unfortunately, our presentation is not quite as practised as your own. But if you look to the left, there is a table of what we can offer for your return trip to the compass continent.” As she finished her statement, the seneschal clapped, and two servants pulled back a cloth to reveal a table covered in fresh produce.
The captain looked left at the bowls filled with fruit, dates, grapes, apples, oranges, pears, and lemons; the list continued. Not only fruit but corn, beans, and other vegetables were also spread out across the table. The captain stood still, taking in the wide variety of options available. There were even some of the spices he had offered among them. It was startling to see such variety when it was unavailable in town, and they were so far from the compass continent where most of these goods were customarily grown. It was utterly unanticipated.
“I am sure a more varied diet would be appreciated by both yourself and your crew on your return journey and that such exotic fare would be easily traded wherever else you might stop on your journey back to Libeccio.” She continued to be proud of the wide variety of products and knowledgeable enough to know their value to a ship needing fresh supplies before they departed.
“Again, in part, I would be happy to trade some of your produce for part of my goods but only a part. I hoped to find more exclusive goods unavailable in Libeccio or Ostro.” He angled for the finer goods he hoped for.
“Of course, of course. If you look to your right.” And once more, the seneschal clapped with Des and Sinis pulling back a cloth to reveal the processed goods. Amphora or wines and spirits we had experimented with in creating. Smoked fish and dried fruit were also placed alongside them.
“Once more, in part and after tasting, I am sure I can find a market for them.” He re-joined. “However, I was hoping to acquire something I believe you are selling to Ponente, Deep-sea pearls.” After revealing all he had to trade, he could profit from each item offered. Nevertheless, the most significant profit was to be had from the pearls, even if the house only had a few of them to deliver.
“Ah, yes, our pearls. The silver from the sea alongside the white gold on which our house has been built.” She mused while playing with a pearl necklace of her own. He has not yet agreed to part with the product despite his aims. “Before we discuss the pearls.” She persisted, “I hoped you might indulge me in a short history of our island.”
Although frustrated at the delay, Captain Kashif calmly replied, “It would be my pleasure.” Keen to keep the child happy regardless of the delay. In the end, he would deal with an adult after the pleasantries were concluded, although he had to admit that she was doing an excellent job leading him around in circles while the prize lay within it.
“The last of the Wester Isles to be claimed by Ponente, our island, was settled 75 years ago. It was the last to be settled due to the cliffs that protect us now but originally hindered the exploration of Wester Ponente all those years ago.” The child started her story of the island’s settling.
Captain Kashif stood silently in place, pondering where this story was leading.
“It had taken 20 years for the islanders of Wester Levante and Little Wester to carve out the stairs and indeed even the cove where you docked before Ponente could send a significant enough force to ensure the island was safely settled.” She highlighted the initial difficulties.
He nodded in interest showing that he was listening to her little lesson. Although he was unsure of the lesson she wished to impart.
“Our island is the furthest west the Principality of Ponente had ever reached, and no noble wished to leave for what would effectively be a banishment from court. Moreover, the deep sea pearls had yet to be discovered, so nothing was worth venturing so far out from the compass continent. Only with the encouragement of Lodestar Church to expand the horizon and the desire to add another isle to the principality paid for the expedition.” She continued her tale.
“Without the wealth of nobles unwilling to support such an expansion, the Prince’s father attempted to recruit from the merchants, but there was no money to be made this far out, and they, too, refused to make an attempt or fund the journey. So finally, he called for the commoners and the indentured, offering to cancel their debts for a fresh start on a new island. Many stepped forward for a new chance and freedom from debt, but still, it was not enough bodies to subdue an untamed island. Our land was bought in the blood of our ancestors as much as it was with coin.”
Captain Kashif had honestly not considered the history of the Isles or their settling. Every kingdom had their own methods of expansion. Some succeed, and others fail. It mattered little to the merchant making his way in the world unless he was trapped in the middle of their machinations.
“So, in the end, to make up the numbers, he turned to secure slaves. He acquired the other half of the settlers with the one product he controlled the tax upon, salt. The nobles and merchants keen to gain their pound of flesh and unhappy with the enforced purchase of their slaves demanded their weight in salt for the slaves. Thus was born the phrase ‘not worth his salt’ after the prince's father's forced purchase of slaves across Ponente to support his expansion of the kingdom.” She explained.
Captain Kashif had a sinking feeling as he looked not toward the young lady but at the beastkin, who stood behind the lord with a slight smile. He already knew the beastkin’s stance on slavery, and he had found a similar soul in Lady Silversea. He had noticed the lack of slaves in the town but considered that part of being in the Kingdom of Ponente which always had far fewer than the neighbouring kingdom of Libeccio. Possibly due to the Prince's fathers’ actions all those years ago; who knew?
“My great-grandmother on my father’s side was one of those slaves, and we are worth far more than our own weight in salt. As a pioneer island, we pay no tax and make our own rules, one of which is that there is no slavery on our island. Your four attendants are not slaves on our island but free men." she stated, laying out the island's law.
The slaves, untrusting of the statement, looked to him for the truth. The problem was that in the face of the Church, the elf and beastkin, whatever the child said as Lady Silversea, the ruling noble of Wester Ponente, was the law.
"However, we are not so uncivilised as to not pay their weight’s worth in salt.” She finished and gestured once more. Four large bags of salt were brought in to stand by each slave that had accompanied him. Despite their fears, they were beginning to process that what was possibly happening was real.
He suddenly regretted not allowing them breakfast since departing the ship with their chests this morning or ensuring they had drunk enough water rather than relying on their skills, stats and metier to carry the goods. He could have gotten a few more kilograms of salt from the enforced transaction.
“If you wish to purchase our deep sea pearls in exchange for your goods, then you will have to abide by the laws of the land. Every slave on your ship is to be given the offer of freedom here on Wester Ponente before we consider your offer for the pearls.”
“Every slave?” He asked, concerned. If every slave decided to live here free instead of returning with him to Libeccio, he would be running the ship on a skeleton crew, with many of the sailors being forced to take up the slave's tasks. It would be hard but not impossible. He would even make a profit on the salt.
"Every slave." the young Lady Silversea confirmed.
"In that case, may I see the pearls." Then, ever pragmatic, Captain Kashif moved on to how to make the most profit out of this.
A NOTE FROM NOTLIMAH Thank you to Patreons past, present and future for your patience and support with my writing Thank you to all of you, readers, for your comments and reviews.
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