Chapter 8

At the prow of the boat, Stren also grabbed a pike and made ready to use it. He stood and hung on the forestay, leaning over the bow and surveying the water where the Devilray had just dived. Klup raised both oars out of the water and set them on the rear outrigger braces. The she-troll did not have a pike but was strong enough to bash in the skull of a Ray if it was careless enough to come within range.

“Easy, Gents,” Peter said calmly. “I’ve never heard of a Lake Devilray attacking a boat this time of year. I think it was just looking us over.”

Hamm considered Peter’s words for a moment before appearing to relax.

“Aye, milord. I think you’re right. I was just being jumpy.”

Stren’s father retook his seat at the tiller while the teenager remained standing, still studying the dark waters carefully.

“What was it, Lord Bent?” Taylor asked with some concern.

“Do you remember stingrays from back on Earth?” Peter asked. She nodded that she did. “Lake Devilrays are like a freshwater stingray but crossed with a Moray eel. Yes, just like a winged Moray eel. They can be dangerous when in the warmer waters of summer or early fall when they are more active.”

Their speed had increased with the rising winds and they were making good speed directly for the mouth of Priam’s cove just a few miles ahead. Peter instructed Klup to not resume rowing and to save her strength for the return trip. Hamm took the opportunity to feed Klup lunch and tossed her a wrapped bundle of cured pork which the she-troll tore into with gusto.

Peter saw how Taylor watched the feeding troll directly in front of her with a bit of horror and refrained from asking if she was also hungry. They would be in the harbor town in less than an hour and could eat lunch at one of the pubs near the livery.

Thirty minutes later, Hamm steered the boat around a natural stone jetty and brought them into the deep cove formed by the Greystone River entering Mirror Lake. With the wind now blocked by the trees lining the southern edge of the cove, Klup resumed rowing while Stren took down the sail. They also had to maneuver around the other traffic in the cove, which consisted of multiple barges heading in and out as well as dozens of smaller fishing skiffs.

Stren ran up Peter’s personal pennant on the mast to let the dock master know they were coming. Five minutes later, an answering flag rose up on a pole at one of the smaller wooden docks alongside the main stone pier used for the larger cargo barges. Hamm guided us to the dock and then reversed the boat, before carefully backing its stern towards the dock where a port worker was waiting with a line.

“Hail, Lord Bent!”

Peter looked past the line of docks to see who had called and spotted Neverlate just departing with his ferry. Peter saluted the old sailor and then assisted Taylor in making her way to the rear of the boat and onto the dock. She stood for a moment just taking in the busy harbor and the rustic village beyond. The dockyards were busy with Kreven-humans, dwarves, and even a few elves milling about. Taylor noticed that most of them were going out of their way to stay clear of Peter and his party.

“It seems you have a reputation, milord?” she said.

“Yes,” He replied. “Some of it is earned but most is inflated, not that I care. It makes walking in a crowd much easier which I do enjoy.”

Stren grabbed his small pack of supplies and hung it over his shoulders like a backpack. His father then handed Peter’s two travel cases up to Stren, who moved them off the dock and onto the wide boardwalk. The young man then returned to say goodbye to his dad. Peter caught the older man wiping a tear from his eye as the teenager walked back to wait by the travel cases.

Shaking hands with Hamm, Peter said, “Take care of my island Hamm and I’ll take care of your son. I hope to be back in five days, so be here at noon. If I am delayed or arrive early, I’ll hire Neverlate’s ferry to see us back to the island.”

“Yes, milord,” Hamm replied, with a knuckle to his forehead. “Klup!” he said while turning away. “Watch the boat while I go see about supplies for the island!”

Peter watched long enough to observe Klup take up a guard station at the end of the dock. The big mountain troll sat on the dock and simply stared at the passers-by on the boardwalk. Many were shaking their heads and scowling at the troll and also at him, for not only owning one but also for bringing it here.

He laughed and turned back to Taylor, “I imagine you need to use the toilet?”

Taylor simply nodded without embarrassment and Peter led her to a corner of the boardwalk where privacy walls hid an open privy.

“Do you require assistance?” he asked, handing her a wad of traditional Earthly toilet paper.

“No thank you, Lord Bent. I think I can manage.”

Peter stood guard at the privy opening. Soon he heard Taylor giggling.

“It is just a board with a hole in it! I can see the beach below.”

Peter heard the sound of splashing water. A minute later, Taylor appeared. She looked as if she had seen a ghost.”

“Welcome to Kreven plumbing. I’m sorry there was no flush,” he quipped.

“There was someone under the boardwalk!” Taylor hissed.

“Oh, that was probably just the village toftsman,” Peter explained. “They keep large buckets down there to collect the solid waste. It’s taken out of the village and fermented in large vats to later be used as fertilizer.”

“He muttered something about the paper I dropped!” Taylor exclaimed.

“Yes, only the very wealthy can waste paper by dropping it into the jakes here,” he replied. “Come, Berg’s Livery is on the other side of the village, just across the Twin Tower Bridge. We will have lunch there before we leave.”

They made their way down the boardwalk heading towards Harbor Street. That wide boulevard was the main thoroughfare of the village. He held Taylor’s hand to both guide her and to indicate that she was under his protection. Stren followed, carrying the two travel cases and his own pack. The youngster did not look burdened at all and was busy gawking at all the shops and shoppers. Peter chuckled at the ribald comments that some of the older window-sitters sent his way. Some even made him blush for the lad.

At Harbor Street, they paused to wait for a group of dwarves and their slaves to pass. There were four of the diminutive-but-stocky dwarves leading over two dozen slaves. Half of the slaves were marching in a double column and half were pulling small carts filled with the group’s supplies. Four of the slaves were women.

“Slaves?” Taylor asked with an odd expression.

“Yes. Spoils of distant wars or simple criminals. There are few prisons on Kreven,” Peter explained.

“Where are they going?”

“Probably to one of the dwarven mines up north, along the western edges of the Sunset Mountains,” he replied. “They dwarves ‘rent’ the slaves from their owners in exchange for ore or gems. They will mostly work the mines or help process the metals.”

“And the women?” Taylor asked next.

“They will perform various tasks for the camp, and yes, that will include servicing the other slaves. It keeps the male slaves under control. The women do get to keep a small percentage of their take.”

At her questioning look he continued. “Most slaves on Kreven are only indentured for a set period of time. The Third Order, our regional government, so to speak, oversees all slaves and their sentences. As most slaves can eventually earn their freedom, a small wage is set aside for them depending on the work they do. They are allowed to draw on a portion of these wages for luxuries or whores. The women are one of the main money sinks for that slave economy.”

“Are you a member of this ‘Third Order’?” Taylor asked next.

Peter was impressed at her insightful questions. “Not any longer, but I once was. I do pay hefty taxes to them though. In turn, I gain the right of passage on Third Order maintained roads and the use of Third Order harbors like this.”

Peter left unsaid that his taxes also ensured that the Order stayed well away from his island, especially away from his conservatory, where he kept his ‘unsanctioned’ Pupadominus plant.

“Do you ... or have you, kept slaves Lord Bent?”

Peter thought of poor Rosie, the last slave he had purchased. “I have kept sanctioned slaves in the past, although no one on the island now is under Order indenture oversight. Klup is technically a slave but she likes living on the island and I doubt I could keep her from escaping if she didn’t. Tevi was a slave for a short while but now remains on the island as my recognized ward.

“Tevi is not fully human?” Taylor asked next.

“How did you know?” Peter asked. Taylor’s eyes had been covered at all times Tevi had been in the greenhouse.

“Miranda told me. She also explained about your ... serfs. Hamm, Bella, Stren, and ... the daughter.”

“Jaciee, Hamm’s daughter is Jaciee. We use the term ‘villeins’,” Peter explained. “Hamm came to me just after he married Bella and asked for a place in my manor. To become a villein is to be one step lower than a true freeholder. In exchange for being slightly less free, they live under my protection and keep a share of whatever they can grow or raise on my lands. They also earn a small wage for working in the manor or at my workshop.”

Peter did not explain how he also supplemented his villeins with bonuses well beyond their wages. In a decade or two, Hamm and his wife could easily seek retirement, a word unheard of in normal Kreven life. Or, they could choose to purchase a small freehold of their own on the mainland if they were still able, and willing, to work. As per standard villein terms, Hamm would have to first petition Peter to leave his service. Peter would then have up to two years to find replacements. Peter had already indicated that he would be willing to allow a shorter term, as long as he had some notice.

“But yes, I have owned slaves and will likely do so again,” Peter summarized again.

Taylor stopped and faced him with her chin raised. “Will I become one of your slaves when I am done carrying this seed?”

Damn this woman and her insightful questions! Peter thought. “No, you will not become a slave.”

“But neither will I be free?”

“That remains to be seen,” He replied honestly. “We will discuss that subject further once the seed has been delivered.”

The dwarves and their slaves had now vacated the street and Peter guided Taylor forward again. The smells from the street hawkers selling meat pies and other fried foods were making him salivate. He caught Taylor licking her lips also and a quick glance back at the always-hungry teenaged Stren verified that the lad was also tracking the passing food. It was a good thing Berg’s place was not far ahead.

They came to the Twin Tower Bridge which crossed the Greystone River. Two guards challenged them at the south tower entry arch but quickly waved Peter’s group through when he displayed his Third Order marker. As they passed, Peter overheard one guard mutter to his companion. “It looks like the Cursed Island mage has himself another pregnant mistress.”

Peter glared back at the man, causing him to blush and bow his head in shame. The other guard looked disgusted at the first, more likely that his comment was spoken too loudly rather than over its contents. “I apologize, milord. I will see that he is reported.”

Peter just nodded. He cared little and was not going to stick around to verify the second guard’s comment.

Taylor had caught that and gave him a slight smile. “In a way, the man was correct, was he not, Lord Bent?”

“I suppose,” Peter replied. He actually appreciated the guard’s too-loud comment. Hopefully, word would spread to the villagers. If they knew that he was using the girl to transport Death plant seeds, they would likely lynch him or more likely petition the Third Order to have him barred from the village.

Taylor paused at the top of the arching bridge to take in the view of the cascading Greystone River. Peter guided her out of the bridge’s traffic path and over to the western rail, and stood by her side taking in the view. Extending from the village was a long, narrow river valley leading up to the Sunset Mountains ten miles away. From their vantage, they were able to see six separate-but-notable waterfalls and twice that number of lesser rapids. With the unseasonably warm weather, the river was raging with fresh snowmelt from the distant mountains.