Two Hundred Years in Slavery is all the people of Xathania have known. Toiling and dying for a kingdom that has only snarled at them. Not until hope surfaces as a story in the wind and the flames of a spirit long forgotten resurfaces to face the g...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
Callahan was not a party to council meetings. The men were far too old even for him to keep up with. Half of them looked like Plotas would claim them sooner or later. He listened to an old Lord go on and on about the absence of millet like it was a spreading plague that needed to be managed immediately.
He hated to admit it but he missed the Xathanian girl that his mother had forced to squat in his chambers for the past two weeks. The girl had not killed him in his sleep yet, a small mercy from the Son. Perhaps, he'd visit a temple and fill up their coffers for the favour.
The Millet issue was rounded up by declaring that Xathanian labourers would be used to toil the soils of Eastern Xathania. More issues were brought up and to the King's dismay, they were different everyday.
He could not understand how more issues sprung up. The next one worst than the former. From famine to floods, every corner of his kingdom had an issue to present. He was about done with the madness of it all when Blake, Lord of Foxam, stepped forward to present his issues.
Callahan braced himself for complaints of a petty squabble or demand for funds.
Lord Blake cleared his throat. A man of forty. Red of hair and tan of skin. He was a bit taller than Callahan and was the only Lord who had not brought his daughter to court.
'Great Majesty, I come with a request...' Blake began with a measure of confidence that even Callahan admired. '...to abolish slavery in Foxam and to ban the transportation of slaves from Xathania to Welkamia through Foxam.'
Murmurs rose in the chamber, protests and arguments against the Lord of Foxam's request.
Slavery had been the order in Welkamia for two hundred years. Callahan had never witnessed its horrors but he knew of the hangings. Hangings that he halted as soon as he sat on the throne. Deserters were sent to work in the castle now. He had enough guards and never really feared for his life. He didn't allow slavery within palace grounds and ordered that anyone caught would be beheaded.
Callahan shifted in his chair and debated within himself. Cutting off the Foxam Slave Trade route would keep more Xathanian's in their home country.
'Foxam is your territory. Make any laws you see fit,' Callahan said and he could have sworn that the earth spilt in two. No one else stepped forward and he dismissed the council before returning to his quarters for lunch and to make sure that the Xathanian was not making holes in his clothes.
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
