622. West Fort V

622. West Fort V

They sat within the barracks, waiting for the Commander of the barracks to arrive. Adam sipped the drink which had been placed out for them. The tea was quite bland, as though only a single tea bag had been used for all their cups, but tea was tea. ‘I wish we had some milk and sugar...’

The barracks were stark, grey and bare, with furniture that dug into them. If it weren’t for the blankets which softened the sharp edges, Adam was pretty sure he’d had cut himself. It was too cold for someone to say it was cool within the room, but not quite cold enough to be called cold, but more importantly, the entire area was filled with a heavy tension.

Heavy steps approached the even heavier door, before it was almost slammed open by the tall, mighty form of the knight who had appeared. He wore full plate from head to toe, made of darker steel, with the symbol of a lion’s head stamped atop the breast of the armour. The blade at his side was also made of dark steel, the golden pommel smooth, and from his sword belt a large ring of gold hung loosely. He wore a long cape of yellow, with golden pins which pinned the cloak to his shoulders.

“Commander Rodrick of the First Minor Fort,” the knight declared before removing his helmet, revealing his handsome face. He appeared to be in his fifties, though seemed to have aged quite gracefully. His hair was salt and pepper, and save for the tiny nick right below his ear, his face was smooth and unmarked. “What is your business?”

“We wish to head to the mines to see if our missing companions is there,” Adam said. “We have been searching for a Devilkin by the name of Amira, who is from the Order of Black Mountain.”

“What business do you have with such a fiend?”

“Our companion here, Dunes, is also from the Order of Black Mountain,” Adam said, before quickly continuing, “and Lady Sara is also from the order too.”

The Commander’s eyes snapped to the other Devilkin within the room, the young woman with a gem cantered within her forehead. He was vaguely aware of the others, the Iyrman and Guardian from the same orders. As much as the Commander wanted to dismiss them, it was awkward when there was a formal treaty recognising even the Devilkin nobility from Aswadasad.

“Are you a Lady?”

“My parents are both Peysh,” the Devilkin confirmed.

“I have heard the Devilkin within the mines is not a noble.”

“She is not.”

The Commander slowly nodded his head before turning his head to shout back. “Bring more tea and food, and bring the Lady a cushion!”

“Yes, sir!” came a shout from outside the room, before the sounds of heavy steps bolted away.

The Commander took his seat opposite the group, eyeing them up. “The Devilkin is currently enslaved within the mines, but I do not know much else about the situation.”

‘Seriously,’ Adam thought. ‘I wonder how they’ll get rid of slavery in this world.’

“If I recall, she arrived within the last three or four years, so she has at least two years left.”

Adam’s brow pulsed. “She’s been a slave for that long?”

“Yes.”

The First Minor Fort was an outpost which housed a thousand soldiers, though Adam noted only five hundred of them were active at the moment, with the nearby villages full of the other soldiers and at least ten thousand villagers. There were also young recruits, those in their teens, who were currently being trained out in the yard.

“How much did you offer?” Dunes asked.

“A fair price,” Adam replied.

“You will not tell me?”

“We can speak of it when we return to the business, Manager Dunes,” Adam replied, winking at the Aswadian.

“Right...”

Adam wondered how much weight the silver plaque held. It was something he had used quite often, and it had gotten him out of several situations. ‘Seems I’ve got to make my bed with the Duchess...’ If he hadn’t used the silver plaque quite as often, he could have tried to remain distant with the Duchess. ‘Politics, man...’

The group remained to one side, out of the way of the soldiers. Adam relaxed, though the Aswadians remained tense, noting the way the soldiers stared at them, those who were technically enemies due to the ongoing war. It was an awkward situation, though Adam seemed to be rather relaxed while kicking it in the outpost.

It was late afternoon by the time the soldier appeared at the outpost near the mines, a Captain from the First Minor Fort. The Captain had stated it was an emergency, and he had personally brought the Commander’s seal, something the Marquis couldn’t shirk easily. Upon reading the letter, the Marquis understood why the Commander had sent his personal seal with the Captain.

“What is it?” the older man opposite the Marquis asked.

“A letter pertaining to one of the slaves,” the Marquis replied. He was a man in his late forties, with blonde hair and green eyes, that of many of the noble families in West Aldland. He wore a breastplate, though very little other armour since he wasn’t expecting any fights within the outpost. The blade at his side was made of darker steel, with a dark gem set within as its pommel.

The older man wore no armour and was dressed in fine, if simple, attire. He had silver hair and green eyes, though streaks of blonde slipped through in bits and pieces. The wrinkles across his face suggested he was much older, though he had aged gracefully. He reached out with his scarred hands to take the piece of paper from his nephew, and read it.

“Hmmm.”

Slaves were typically sold for one hundred to five hundred gold, so to see someone offer so much money for this slave, it was pretty awkward. However, technically, she was a slave with some status, since she was a prisoner of high value. One thousand gold wouldn’t have been out of the ordinary, but considering the amount of magical items meant they had offered far larger than one thousand gold, he wondered what this Devilkin meant to them.

“The Enchanter would surely appreciate it. Signed, Executive Adam.” The older man stared down at the slip of paper. “Executive Adam. Didn’t he place third in the Noonval Tournament?”

“Did he?” the Marquis replied.

The older man glared at the Marquis, causing him to slump slightly. “So what will you do? Will you give up the golden egg which the Dragon has laid?”

Meanwhile, Adam thought to send word to the Iyr about what he had offered. He was pretty sure his deal was good enough to set Amira free. Even if she held a higher rank within the order, his offer was just way too good.

‘Ending slavery is expensive business! No wonder we had to pillage a subcontinent and force the freed slaves into working for free for decades!’

There's no way... right?