Chapter 11: New Warlord

“I have just received a deputation from the city aldermen concerning you,” I say to Ramiro. “For reasons I suspect are self-serving, they wish to appoint you as city warlord.”

“Why they would choose me to be warlord, Lady Rachael?” asks Ramiro.

I don’t correct Ramiro on his use of the wrong honorific. As a former slave, I can never be referred to as a Lady. Ramiro should have referred to me as Mistress Rachael, but such details can be corrected another time.

“Because you are a good warrior. However, the aldermen know that I’m unable to grant you manumission, so you will still be my slave. That seems to be one of the reasons the aldermen have selected you.”

“Can a slave be a warlord?”

“Apparently so, although I believe you will be the first slave to claim that title in this city.”

“But I know next to nothing about being a warlord. What little I do know was learned by watching Lords Mustafa and Rahim.”

“Then we must hope that you have been observant,” I reply. “The aldermen have demanded my consent to their request. I could refuse, but I believe you and I may gain more by going along with their scheme. I’m sure there will be an opportunity for us to wipe the smugness from their faces.”

The next morning I go with Ramiro to Gor’s office, and witness Ramiro’s appointment as warlord. My signature is added to the official record to signify my consent as Ramiro’s owner. It occurs to me later that since everything a slave does is on behalf of his or her owner, then Ramiro’s duties as warlord are carried out in my name. That means the aldermen cannot simply ignore Ramiro because he is a slave, as they must respect my position as his owner. Perhaps Samvel hasn’t been as clever as he thinks.

I move into my father’s former bedroom once it has been thoroughly cleaned and refurnished. The male oriented décor has been replaced with something more feminine. The new look falls well short of a typical woman’s quarters, but a certain lingering maleness to the fittings seems appropriate. My father’s private collection of weapons has been added to Wadi Halaf’s armoury, creating more than enough space for me to move my desk from the office into my room.

As warlord, Ramiro will need to meet with various people from time to time. Even the aldermen can’t ignore him entirely. I assign my vacated office space for Ramiro to use for any meetings. Our respective positions as mistress and slave means that I must insist on him keeping me informed of the decisions he has made. Consequently I can see that I’m going to spend as much time with Ramiro as I will be doing with Aren and Farai.

Ramiro is soon ready to start his role as warlord. I remove his slave collar since it seems inappropriate for the city’s military leader to be wearing one. His slave tattoo on his right shoulder is usually hidden from view by his leather jerkin, so unless anyone knows that he is a slave then it isn’t obvious at first glance. Normally a slave is never allowed to carry a weapon. My father modified the rule when Ramiro supplemented Wadi Halaf’s cohort of guards by allowing him to carry a wooden staff. But that was only while he was within the walls of Wadi Halaf.

“I’m not sure what we can do about you carrying a weapon,” I say to Ramiro. “The law forbids a slave from carrying a weapon, but you can hardly lead men in battle without one.”

“The city isn’t at war, so I have no immediate need to carry a weapon, Mistress,” replies Ramiro. “And I can easily borrow a weapon from one of the garrison if the need arises.”

Although Ramiro will initially have a busy few weeks coming to terms with his new role, it is unlikely he will need to spend all his time carrying out his duties as warlord. After all, my father managed to run Wadi Halaf as well as be warlord. Consequently I make it clear to Ramiro that I expect him to continue to work at Wadi Halaf when his warlord duties permit.

“And you are to stay out of the taverns and brothels,” I warn him. “I am prepared to give you some latitude in your movements, but you are still my slave. I don’t want your activities to cause discontent among the other Wadi Halaf slaves, nor causing problems elsewhere in the city.”

“Yes, Mistress,” says Ramiro deferentially. “However, a certain amount of sexual prowess is expected to be displayed by the warlord.”

I can’t deny the truth of Ramiro’s comment. While he was warlord, my father regularly fucked his concubines, as well as Dania and Phoebe when he was in the mood for younger women. The soldiers of the city garrison never seem to tire of hearing about his exploits between the legs of one woman or another. When Lord Mustafa was warlord, boasts about the sexual perversions carried out in his dungeon also provided titillation for the garrison’s soldiers.