"Mother!"
"Asda!" an older, graying-hair version of the 'refugee' princess greeted her daughter with a hug as a rather sad group arrived at the south gate. While technically, this was two allied forces meeting up for the first time, it looked more like a group of ragged refugees stumbling onto a zoo.
That was really the best description that could be given as the Second Queen and her forces met Remian and his at the south gate; two messy, mismatched groups wondering what the heck each was going to do with the other.
On one side was a widowed Second Queen with one general, a few squads of exhausted and injured soldiers, with roughly two hundred armed slaves in rags walking around in a dazed mob. On the other was Remian, with a few teenagers like Tim and Mindy, along with a whole bunch of giant boars, wolfcats, and lynxmice. Neither of them looked particularly suited to conquering the city of the Desert King.
"So… let's withdraw and let them fight it out?" Tim suggested, seeing the 'army' of the Second Queen.
"I think he's right." The general agreed, seeing the 'army' of the Frontier forces.
"No! We have to free the slaves! This will be a revolution the likes of which the world has never seen! There will be an uprising of the downtrodden, and freedom to the captives!" the Second Queen insisted.
"Yay." There were a few cheers among the tired armed slaves around her, but most of them were just glad to have a safe place to sit down for a while.
"Where is everyone?" Asda asked, in shock. "We had thousands and thousands…"
"Had. We ran into both the Queen Mother's forces and the Crown Prince's forces trying to free more slaves several times before you called us over." The general grunted. "These are all the survivors who hadn't dropped their weapons and run away."
"We just need one strike." The Second Queen told her daughter. "If we can liberate the slaves in the north bazaar, our numbers could easily reach a hundred thousand."
"General?" Asda asked.
The general grimaced. "It's too well guarded. We'd never make it, and even then, most of the slaves would rather run away than fight. Plus, we'd anger the merchants. We've already made a great deal of enemies tonight…"
"Cowadice, general? I must rethink my choice for my daughter's future husband." The Second Queen snapped.
"Even marrying your daughter won't give my descendants much of a future if all of Fal'Herim is reduced to ashes by tomorrow." The general grunted. He turned to Asda. "Your highness, none of the other factions know exactly how strong we are right now. Having made allies with the Wildlands is a powerful card if we can play it right. The mystery and impression of our real strength is our only true advantage. I say we use it for all it's worth. Let us call for a summit."
The Second Queen thought for a bit, then admitted, "Victory through bluster? I like it."
"It could stop the bloodshed." Asda agreed slowly. "Although I don't think it's as easy as you make it sound."
"Maybe not, but what choice do we have?" the general shrugged. "I'll send messengers."
He did. As he did so, Tim glanced toward Asda. "I don't understand. Why doesn't freeing the slaves work? Why do they drop their weapons and run? Wouldn't they rather fight for their freedom?"
"Well, those who serve cruel masters probably would, but for the most part, slaves in Fal'Herim aren't actually that badly treated. They may be taxed into poverty, but they still keep a portion of their earnings and their masters take care of all their basic needs, and they enjoy quite a bit of freedom." The general told him. "They get to form their own clans, choose their own jobs, marry whoever they want, go wherever they like, as long as they send the bulk of the money they earn back into their masters' coffers. It's not much different from free people living in a high-tax country. Plus, they've never known any different. It's a bit hard to explain to them how their lives would be better as freed people. For the most part, its that they keep all the money they earn from others, but they would never receive anything for free any more, including housing and food."
"But surely their earnings would more than afford grand houses and delicious meals!" Tim pointed out.
"Most of them don't earn that much. Slave labor is supposed to be cheap, and even foreigners who want to hire them come here looking for a bargain. Between low wages and the cost of food and water around here, some of the better-treated slaves would actually be worse off freed."
"Like the military slaves. Those clans who serve in the Crown Prince's armies. They are the most well-treated slaves in the city, and they would rather kill us than let us free them." The Second Queen sighed. "My own household slaves would rather stay enslaved than risk their lives for an uncertain future. The ones most willing to take up arms are the recently captured, or the most badly treated, like importedcriminals. Once freed, many would rather take their chances running away to save their own lives than fighting for Fal'Herim."
"Don't they fear the consequences of being caught?" Asda asked.
"Yesterday, sure. But now the Crown Prince's forces simply let them run. As long as they're not armed, they won't stop any slave running around. How would they even check if they've been freed from a cage or simply running errands for their masters? Slaves in Fal'Herim normally don't go around chained or anything."
"The slave-bond. I've been meaning to ask about that. How do you free so many from it all at once?" Remian asked.
"We don't." the general grimaced. "All of them still bear their bonds. But we remove all physical bindings and have their masters negate their contracts, since killing the masters would trigger the slave-bonds to kill the slaves too. Actually removing the slave-bonds would require surgery later."
"Masters can negate contracts?!" Remian facepalmed.
***
The Summit of Fal'Herim, as it was called, took place in the central square of the city, inside the Temple of Khar'al-dras. The leaders of the three warring factions and several powerful neutral factions in the city all met in front of a huge gold-plated statue of a sleeping dragon in the Inner Hall of the Temple.
On one side was the Queen Mother and her officers. She was speaking to the temple priests. By her side, she had four generals and three young boys, all sons of the Desert King, all faithfully nodding to her every word.
On another, was the Crown Prince, who spoke in a low voice to the representatives of the Bankers Circle and the Mercenaries Union. There were three generals and a few clan representatives around him voicing their support and ideas.
There was the Second Queen, who had one general, Remian and Asda at her side, neither of them saying a word. They also had several large wolfcats in attendance, but they didn't say anything either.
Then, there were the supposedly neutral parties, like the Alchemist Guild and most importantly, the Four Great Houses, signifying the four most powerful clans in the city. The truth, though, was that each warring faction already had one Great House staunchly behind them, mainly because they were relatives. There was only one truly neutral Great House, and the representative from that one was an old man who didn't seem to be able to hear what everyone was trying to tell him and kept asking loudly about the wine taxes.
"I don't think the others are coming. We may as well get started." The Queen Mother said.
The obvious response erupted. "Started? This shouldn't even be taking place! I am the Crown Prince! Upon the death of my father, the throne is mine by right!"
"You and that (censored) murdered your father, just like your father murdered my son in his time, just as my son murdered my husband, and I am tired of letting it happen again!" the Queen Mother hissed. Apparently, she wasn't the previous Desert King's mother; he was his grandmother, which means the current Crown Prince and the three boys following her were all her great-grandsons. "In my time, regicide was High Treason and punishable by death, much less patricide! It is time to return to the old ways, and uphold the law!"
"I had nothing to do with my father's death, and the old ways are rubbish!" The Crown Prince snapped. "Times are changing, and there is no going back! Even if we wanted to, we cannot go on as we have in the past!"
"I agree! The slaves should be freed!" The Second Queen declared.
Both the Queen Mother and the Crown Prince ignored her entirely.
"Queen Mother, Crown Prince, we are here to resolve the matter peacefully." The head priest reminded them.
"You have also invited the leaders of the various powers in Fal'Herim. Should we be ignored when deciding the fate of our fair city?" the representative of the Alchemist Guild added.
There was a brief silence.
"I believe each party should have a chance to state their case. Let us see how much support you really have." The man from the Mercenaries Union said plainly. "For instance, what are your future plans for Fal'Herim and how you propose to resolve the two biggest problems facing it today; the unrest caused by this civil war, and the finance problem."
"What finance problem?" the Second Queen asked.
The Crown Prince scoffed. "My dear father hasn't told you? It seems our fair city is running at a steep deficit and our treasury is all but empty already."
"That's impossible!" The Second Queen gasped. "The Fire Crystal mine…"
"Is practically exhausted." The Crown Prince snorted. "We get more revenue from the slaves than we do from the mine, these days." He glanced at the Queen Mother. "Did you even know about it?"
"Of course. But it matters little. Khar'al-dras will bless us once we return to the old ways. We will prosper as we once did. Perhaps he will restore the fruitfulness of the mine."
"You're relying on a miracle to save our economy?!" the Crown Prince snorted. "I'd rather trust to economic reform!"
"Such big words! Do you even have a plan, or do you only know how to throw empty boasts?"
The Crown Prince growled. "My plan is to use mega-projects to completely revitalize the economy! Cheap labor is the greatest advantage we have and that is what we should use! We should rebuild the entire city in a grand new design, using the latest magitech systems for water and agriculture…"
"And where would you get the money for such mega-projects?" the Queen Mother scoffed.
"We have friends who would be willing to help out. Have you never heard of Foreign Aid?"
"And what would you promise them in return?!" she demanded.
"That is none of your concern!" he shot back. "At least I have a plan! You just want to pray for miracles! And you!" he turned to the Second Queen. "Why are you even here?"
"We have an army. And we have allied with the Wildlands!" the Second Queen said, slowly mustering her courage. "If we get serious, and freed all the slaves, you're going to be overrun by the sheer numbers of our forces!"
"Even without the slaves, the Wilds alone can overrun the city!" Asda threw in bravely. "You have to listen to us!"
"You want us to listen?" the Crown Prince chuckled. "Very well! Speak! What is your plan to resolve the unrest and our financial problem?"
At that, the Second Queen was silent for a few seconds. Then, "We should free the slaves."
"How does that help?" the Queen Mother frowned.
"It would end the strife in a great celebration!" the Second Queen exclaimed. "And it would cut our costs! We wouldn't have to pay for their food and housing any more!"
"No, we'd just have to pay a professional army and professional staff." The Crown Prince snorted with laughter.
"We don't have to hire everyone!" Asda cut in.
"Oh? And who's going to work our fields and guard our walls? Or should we abandon them all?" the Crown Prince asked. "Every business, every office… do you know how many people our castle alone employs? Do you know how many businesses run on slave labor? Do you know how much of our government department staff are actually slaves? Have you calculated how much it would cost to pay all those slaves wages comparable to other countries?"
Again, a long silence.
"And where would we get the money, hmm? I haven't heard anything from you about a source of revenue."
"We could raise taxes…" the Second Queen began.
"And how would that bring us more income than what we're doing now? Or didn't you know that we were already taking the lion's share of all the slaves' revenue?"
"Once freed, they can open businesses…"
"Would they? Would they really? With what capital, I ask you? Doing what? How many freed slaves do you know who actually do that and succeed?"
The Second Queen glanced at the representatives of the Bankers Circle. "Surely you fine gentlemen would know such statistics better than I do."
"That's true enough." Said one of the bankers. "From those I've seen, the number I have is zero."
"Same here." A second banker said.
"I think I saw one guy, a long time ago." A third banker frowned. "One of the hundreds I've seen. He ran a juice stall on a road corner for a month."
The Crown Prince coughed. "Since we're consulting with the bankers, I'd like to ask them a question also. Based on the Second Queen's intentions, what do you forecast the economy of Fal'Herim to be like in a year? Or five?"
"Absolute poverty." The first bankers said outright.
"You mean, bankruptcy?" the Queen Mother poked. "Plus a steep debt?"
"No, no, bankruptcy and a steep debt is what I'd expect from your plan." He replied. "Hers is far, far worse. I'm not sure there would be anything even resembling an economy after a year."
"I disagree!" the Second Queen yelped. "If we all work together…"
"Idealism aside, what does your staunch ally say? Is civic unity also your hope for the future?" the Crown Prince turned to Remian.
His response? "I think I have powerful airships that you can't hope to shoot down, Wilds that you can't hope to stop, an army already within your city and that you're wasting time trying to win a popularity contest when what you should be really discussing are the terms of your surrender."