Chapter 162: Ethical Dilemmas

Chapter 162: Ethical Dilemmas

“If slavery is not wrong, nothing is wrong.”

Abraham Lincoln

Eventually, after much argument over costs, prices, and quantities, Captain Kashif and Aleera reached an agreement with our advisors' support. We were travelling back to his boat with wagons full of salt behind us. A small box of pearls had been traded for the goods he had left behind in our throne room, while the rest of his goods and slaves would be sold for the remaining salt, food and pearls we carried toward where he was docked at the bottom of the cliff. While I had been present for most of the negotiations, I had surprisingly managed to keep my mouth shut for most of the time that Captain Kashif was present—no need to give anyone any more intelligence or wild stories to retell who knew where else.

The four former slaves had also accompanied us to help smooth the transaction and transfer of people from one profession to another. Even the Bishop had accompanied us to help it go as efficiently as possible. As we travelled, I discussed the ethical dilemma with Aleera. Wrong does not cease to be wrong because the majority share in it. But at the same time, the majority were not without a point in the case of murder and less savoury crimes. We could not honestly judge who deserved incarceration and were incapable of imprisoning them even if we knew. There were no prisons on our island, and while the light-fingered individuals were already well known, they hardly ever took more than a coin here or there. There was little point to theft on an isle where you could not escape your accusers, and everyone knew everyone. I was not naïve enough to believe it did not exist, but it was not a noticeable problem. Then again, who would be idiotic enough to attempt stealing something from my grandfather anyway. He would probably welcome the attempt but deal with it reasonably punitively. If they ever had, they wouldn’t have tried again if they could still do so.

I was worried that crime might become a problem with an influx of ex-slaves who had become so for all manner of reasons. But we needed to be more concerned about doing the right thing. With the number of high levelled combatants tripling to Arawn, Namir and Sir Jacques, along with an actual town guard and the sentinels, hopefully, any problem cases would soon see the light. If not, that was a bridge to cross later on down the line.

“Slaves line up.” Shouted captain Kashif. He seemed eager to complete the transaction or depart the island. Perhaps it was both. “The Lord and Lady have some questions for you.”

We had boiled our questions down to name, level and crime. With two observable answers, we hope the bias would confirm the truth of the third answer. It would not be foolproof, but it was the best we could come up with during our short journey to the dock. Ultimately, we decided to give everyone a chance, even if it was only one.

Aleera stepped forward and called out, “We need to know your name, level and the crime for which you were enslaved.”

“Step forward and answer.” Shouted Captain Kashif.

Each one stepped forward to answer our question; names, levels and crimes were reeled off, debt, theft, born into slavery, and captured. This time around, no one had confessed to murder or rape, but that did not mean that they had not been committed. Aleera looked at me to see if the statements matched what I could observe, and they did. We nodded our agreement to Captain Kashif that we would purchase their freedom as already agreed. We had added the caveat in case his entire crew of enslaved people were thugs, murderers and rapists. By accompanying him to the ship together, we prevented him from prepping their answers and hopefully gained slightly more honest ones.

He stepped forward once more, gesturing at the piles of goods on the dock and in the hold, “The quicker you load up the ship, the quicker you will be left behind here on Wester Ponente. The Lord and Lady here have offered to purchase your freedom for your weight in salt.”

The enslaved people who had been stood in a line at the edge of the boat overlooking the dock froze in confusion. This was obviously different from what they had expected to hear. They perhaps believed that we were after one or two enslaved people rather than intent on freeing Captain Kashif’s entire stock of them. They looked to our entourage and the four formerly enslaved people standing there for confirmation. They nodded in agreement.

The enthusiasm with which the slaves straightened and jumped to work was astounding and probably more significant than they had ever achieved under the threat of whip or worse. Without orders or help, they whipped the goods being transacted off the ship onto the dock, then did the same with the goods we had brought with us vanishing them below the deck.

Finally, it came to the salt. Each slave was weighed and then carried an equivalent amount of salt back aboard the ship. Captain Kashif oversaw the weighing to ensure he was not shorted in the exchange. Another benefit to accompanying him and keeping his slaves in view was that he did not have time to quickly fill them with water to inflate their price. Soon the ship was fully loaded, and the freshly formerly enslaved people now stood in a line on the dock facing their former owner. None of them seemed to believe this was genuinely happening, working silently. Watching cautiously and standing carefully still once it had been completed in case one of us changed our mind about the transaction. When dealing in the trade of flesh, everything became a lot more personal for the people being traded, if not for their former owner. They stood unmoving, waiting on tenterhooks, wishing this was not a false hope.

“Pleasure doing business with you, Lord and Lady Silversea.” Captain Kashif bowed from his place at the helm of the boat. The number of sailors was dramatically reduced by the number of slaves that had been exchanged for salt, but it was enough for them to set sail though it looked like they were working twice as hard without them to get everything ready for their departure. The man was still polite, but he was still within reach of Namir’s blade and claws, only a jump away. It made me realise how fragile civility was in a world where strength was king. Were we abusing that right now, maybe? Would it harm us, in turn, later down the line? Hopefully not, but it could not be guaranteed.

The boat began to pull away while the newly freed people milled around in fearful hope that this reality was not some form of a fever dream. We hoped we had made the right decision to purchase their freedom and ultimately let Captain Kashif leave. He was far from home; if he returned to his regular routes, it might be years before he returned from Libeccio. The worry was whether the repercussions of our decision would reach here sooner than that. Salt for slaves was nothing new; they were merchandise like any other product to the Libeccians. However, the amount that we had paid due to the low cost of salt for us meant that the amount was significantly over market price compared to the general market.

. . .

The return journey to town led us to the church. Our goods were carried onto the island, but we watched as the former slave had their previous metier removed and their bodies healed. The bishop was advising them to think for a while before choosing their next metier, and they went onto the isle in the middle of the lagoon with Des and Sinis, their new supervisors.

All of them seemed amenable to the idea of producing their weight in salt to clear their debt and more to buy into any other slaves that we freed in the future. A new tradition we hoped the success of which would prove they were worth their weight.

“How will that be any better than what we are already offering the family through our tuition?” Asked Lady Acacia, somewhat affronted at the idea that her specific schedule was not the most optimum for the child in question.

“I do not say that it will be better, but our training methods do have their benefits.” He calmly replied.

The bishop intervened to redirect her attention, “First of all, with healing.”

“Does that not take a considerable amount of time to learn?” she asked, unconvinced or perhaps unwilling to share her tuition time with another faction now that she had already split it once with Namir to facilitate the children’s weapons training.

“Yes, but there are different ways in which the healing might help. First and foremost, I would teach him how to heal others, which would take considerable time.”

“Less time than you might think,” muttered Arawn interrupting the bishop.

“However,” he countered, “that is not the only lesson I might help him with. By healing him directly to start learning the skill and become familiar with it, I would be able to extend your training practices exponentially.” He explained.

“This is how we train in the church.” Sir Jacques joined in once more. “The clergy practice their healing abilities on us while the knights train their martial abilities. It is an efficient method for training two disparate groups simultaneously and speeding up the progress of both. One group heals while the other hurts. It is a cyclical system that supports each other’s growth.” He continued.

“Would work well for what I have in mind for them.” Namir joined in on the side of the church, shifting the conversation's balance. “It would also allow the two of them to attend your hoity-toity lessons fresh in the afternoon, along with any more magic you wish to teach them.” He shrugged.

“Well, obviously, I would also like to educate him on the state of the world whilst we are practising.” The bishop added.

“As long as it does not take from the time already assigned to Namir and me, I see no problem.” Lady Acacia admitted her thorns receding a little in concession.

“It all sounds like a fantastic opportunity to me.” Arawn agreed with the overall plan. “Just remember I will be watching.”

“Sir Jacques, do you not have anything to add to the Bishop’s plan? Lady Acacia asked, suspicious of his silence.

Sir Jacques paused before replying, “Only that this method of training will also be helpful to the boy in him learning how to use his mana to boost his physical attributes. It is, after all, how we train. Pushing our bodies past their limits only to have them healed up afterwards. Once it has happened sufficiently, your body grows accustomed to the mana fixing it, and you can begin to use your mana to do it on command or in advance of the need.”

“You hope to teach him those skills as well?” Arawn asked, intrigued.

“Eventually, as a knight, I can use mana to enhance my strength, dexterity, endurance, and senses. Then, with the Bishop’s help in targeted healing to familiarise him with the feeling, so too will Kai be able to do so. But that is a long way, a way before he needs the next step of training. So, I will wait till then. Hopefully, by then, you will consider dividing their time further, but I do not expect it or need it now.” He explained patiently. Lady Acacia’s suspicions were proven correct but not in their timing.

“And again, for clarification, there will be no expectations of him having to join the church or your order.” Arawn once more insisted on confirmation.

“No, we only want what is best for the boy,” The bishop insisted before the pair of them, facing the scepticism of the other tutors, ended up swearing together. “We only want the best for the Silversea Scions without favour or expectation to join our orders, so we swear by the light of the lodestar.”

Their reservations answered, and the man, elf, and beastkin sat back in relief. The scions in question slept under the mountain, unaware of the plans being put into place for their future.