“Ker Potter, Kera Potter, is there anything more you would like to say? Any more questions or objections?” I take a sip of my tila as I wait for their answer. The drink is honestly growing on me. It’s not coffee, but it has a pick-me-up element that I might be getting a little addicted to, despite the taste.

  Ker Potter hesitates, wariness in the lines on his face.

  “My lord, not that I’m not grateful that you are making this offer to us…but why us?”

  I understand the question. In their roughly-spun clothes and subdued colours, the couple look very out of place in this elegant sitting room. Kera Potter is the woman I met yesterday at the auction and invited to join me to discuss hiring one of my slaves. She was the only one to take me up on the invitation and I’m glad she did.

  As it turns out, Ker Potter is, as his name indicates, a non-Classer craftsman – in pottery, of course. While he is solely responsible for the crafting side of the business, his wife has been looking after the books. But she has had a limited education and is finding that the administration is overwhelming her. That’s why they were at the auction, looking for a slave who suited both their needs and their budgets – business has evidently been improving lately, but I suspect they are still far from comfortable in terms of profits.

  Honestly, it couldn’t have worked out better if I’d planned it. They seem like decent folk just trying to make a living and the person I have available for them has exactly the skills they need. This is a perfect opportunity to explore a potential future for slaves in Moriax.

  “Because you need it,” I reply simply. “And because I can offer it. Just adhere to the contract and there won’t be any issues.” If they want to benefit from the skills of one of my people, they will have to stick to my rules.

  “Of course, my lord,” Ker Potter hurries to assure me. “And we are very grateful for your consideration.” He sends a glance back at his wife and I see a question pass between them – no mental bond here, just the consequence of many years of marriage. Kera Potter nods slightly and her husband’s face relaxes as he turns back to me. “We have no objections or questions.”

  “Good. Then, to summarise. I agree to you hiring an experienced book-keeper from me in exchange for a silver per tenday. This comes to a total of thirty-one silvers yearly, and must be paid in full by the end of each year. The term of hire is presently indefinite, but the contract stipulates that a minimum level of care must be adhered to throughout the term.”

  The amount was of careful consideration. I didn’t want to push the Potters out of business – that would be rather counter my objectives here – but I know they can afford this much: Kera Potter was originally going to pay fifty-three silvers for a different slave. At the same time, I want to offer the slave a reasonable chance of freedom.

  Kael’s service contract is two and a half golds – he will be able to buy his freedom in a decade even if I take ten percent of the income as Sarran suggested. I’m in two minds about that – while part of me doesn’t want the money, Sarran made a good point about me being able to use it to help others and make the venture more self-sustaining. That is appealing, though I definitely am not going with the fifty percent that he originally suggested.

  "We agree to the contract without reservation,” Ker Potter tells me after another brief exchange of glances. I nod at Sarran and the manservant passes across the contract he’s been drafting. Fortunately for me, he’s a lot more versed in the contract law of Moriax than I am. I’ve already checked through it and ensured that everything we’ve negotiated is in there.

  “Then please read that and sign it. Sarran will help you if you need it.” The manservant moves to stand behind the two Potters and a murmuring starts up on the other side of the table.

  While they’re busy with that, I step out of the room to speak with the man hovering outside. He’s picking at his fingernails and staring blankly at the wall opposite.

  “Kael,” I start and he jumps, hunching his shoulders. “They have agreed to the contract. These are the conditions.”

  I continue by explaining exactly what conditions I negotiated for him. Doing so was as hauntingly familiar as the interviews yesterday were. Determining appropriate work hours, the type of tasks that he could and could not be asked to do, what counted as bed and board, appropriate discipline…it all felt very much like what I used to do as my own bread and butter.

  Yet, just as soon as I started settling back into a role that felt as familiar as well-worn shoes, something would come up that jarred me out of it again. That I needed to define the number and contents of meals and what counted as a bed, that corporal punishment was something I needed to take off the table, that I had to specify that under no circumstances was he to be ordered to someone’s bed….

  A good portion of the nerves roiling in my belly is due to my fear that I haven’t considered something that will come back to bite him when I’m hundreds of miles away – and unable to intervene.

  “So, what do you think?” I ask finally. “Are the terms acceptable to you?”

  “I…yes, master. Of course,” he answers slightly hesitantly. I can tell he’s being honest, but also that there’s something he’s not saying.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, master,” he quickly answers.

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  “Don’t lie to me,” I warn him. “I will not punish you for anything you say when I’ve invited it, but I won’t tolerate your silence in something like this.” Maybe I’m being a little heavy-handed, but if he has a concern, I want to hear about it now, not several years down the line when maybe irreversible damage has been done.

  Kael flinches but obeys, continuing to speak with reluctance in his voice.

  “I…what if they don’t keep to the contract?”

  “Then you send a message to Titanbend manor – to Tinman the steward,” I tell him immediately. “Or if you’re concerned that your life is at risk, or you are unable to send the message, you go. If you’re picked up by a lawman, you tell them that you are following your master’s orders. Your collar is registered to me now so they would bring you to the manor anyway.” That was something else Nicholas arranged for me that I hadn’t known to do – it’s a simple procedure which just required sending in a notice to the court, but an important one. I’m very glad that he’s giving me the benefit of the doubt with this particular project – if he’d disapproved, he could have made life more difficult for me in many ways.

  “Yes, master,” Kael answers, then hesitates again. This time I don’t have to prompt him to continue. “But I don’t want to become…burdensome. In any way.”

  I let the silence drag and carefully consider his body language. He’s avoiding my eyes, but not in a way that reads of deception. I can only guess that time as a slave has taught him that being linked with added effort in the mind of his master leads to nothing but trouble.

  Something tells me that reassurance that he has nothing to fear will only increase his worry; I decide to take another tack.

  “I will be more angry if they break the contract and you don’t report it,” I tell him honestly. “What kind of reputation do you think that would give me, if I let people break contracts with me with impunity?”

  By the way Kael blinks, I assume that he didn’t think of that. He hurries to assure me of his obedience.

  “Of course, master. I completely understand and I swear I will not blemish your reputation, neither by action nor inaction.”

  “I’m sure you will do your best,” I agree. “Now, as a little guarantee, I’m going to Bind you,” I warn him. He tenses – I don’t doubt he’d protest if he thought it would make any difference. But he’s right that it wouldn’t – my earlier words about reputation weren’t groundless.

  Though there are other people who hire out slaves to those who need them temporarily, they don’t care about how the slaves are treated. This kind of contract is something new and I’m not willing to risk Kael repeating previous misdemeanours to pay off his contract more quickly or running away with the money he’s earned. Having a Bond will also allow me to confirm whether he’s being treated correctly or not, though that does depend on me being here in Azaarde which isn’t going to be the case for a while. Perhaps I can find a way around that….

  The Battle of Wills takes only a few moments – Kael doesn’t present any resistance and I delay only long enough to be sure that his assent to the contract and its terms is honest. With Kael in tow, I return to the sitting room to find the Potters on the point of signing the contract.

  Once Ker Potter has put his X in place and Kera Potter has scrawled her signature, I sign too – with a pen rather than magic. Apparently mundane contracts only need mundane signatures. Magical signatures are kept for special occasions – understandably, the authorities aren’t keen on giving criminals more opportunity to develop a way of mimicking them.

  Sarran leaves with the Potters, Kael moving to join them as they exit the room. His side of the Bond is filled with nerves and determination.

  I cross my fingers that this works. If I want to create lasting change, it has to function even when I’m not there in person to enforce it.

  Pushing myself to my feet once they’ve left, I walk through the manor, heading for the training yard on the back side of the building. Exiting the doors, I take a moment to observe what the rest of my companions are up to.

  Everyone who is going on the expedition with us is here, even the slaves who are earmarked for taking non-combat roles. Because the thing is that we’re heading on a dangerous journey to an equally dangerous situation. Though I’ll try to protect the non-combatants as much as possible, if they know how to defend themselves, it will be easier to do so.

  Thus, one part of the sandy training ground is set aside for a group of people who barely know one end of a knife from another. I see the exasperation on the face of the guard currently training them and feel a bit sorry for him – maybe I should do something nice for all the trainers, just to help motivate them to continue doing their best, even when their charges are driving them up the wall.

  Another group consists of the slaves who have had some combat experience. There are far more of these than in the first group – in Moriax, with its violent slums, dangerous wildlife, and occasional beast waves, most adults have seen some form of combat – like Loran, who’s also in that group.

  That doesn’t mean they’re all good at it, though, and there’s a clear division between those who actually trained as guards and those who just learned enough to fight off a mugger in the streets. That trainer’s expression is almost as exasperated as the first. Slightly amusingly, so is Maxen’s – considering I’ve made him my guard captain and put him in charge of all the combatants, I’m not too surprised. He no doubt sees how much work they need and is despairing a little.

  Beyond, on the edge of the training yard, are my animal companions. They’re currently working with some of Nicholas’ Bonded against a line of guardsmen. From the magic I see wrapped around the guards in a protective ward, I’m sure at least one of them is a Classer. I approve – my companions are practised at fighting other beasts, but we still have a lot to learn about fighting humans in this world.

  “My lord, you’ve come to join us!” The cheerful voice makes me hunch a little myself. Mathis sounds happy, but I know him well enough to hear the hint of sadism that lies beneath his tone. I haven’t spent much time recently in weapons’ training – and he knows it.

  But since everyone else is training, I have no excuse not to face the demon. I paste a smile on my face and turn to face him.

  “Mathis! Just the man I wanted to see. Do you have any time to work with me? I feel l should set a good example for my people,” I tell him as cheerfully as I can while knowing that I’ll soon be one big bruise as he refuses to let me use my Flesh-Shaping to heal myself.

  The trainer looks taken aback for a moment, then smiles, his eyes glinting.

  “Of course. Come on, Markus, let’s show them what their lord is capable of.”

  He turns and starts striding away. I hurry to catch up.

  “You mean you’ll let me put on a good show before you start making me eat sand, right, Mathis?”

  The trainer just chuckles and my heart sinks.

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