Read Online A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner - Free Book Online Page A

don’t think it ever
occurred to him that he might be declined. When the messenger
returned from Eddis with a definite “no” for an answer,
my uncle was mad with rage. I don’t know if it was thwarted
greed or pride, but I know that the magus played on both to get my
uncle’s financing for his expedition to steal
Hamiathes’s Gift. He was determined that the two countries
would be united, and insisted that Sounis could use the gift to
force an alliance and a marriage upon Eddis. We know how that
turned out.
     
    Our jobs changed for the winter season. We worked on indoor
tasks more often, repairing tools, patching clothes, fetching in
loads of wood for the household. Helius spent hours carefully
carving spoons. There were many days we were out in the cold rain,
shaping the land and directing the flow of the water as it drained
off. There were dams to be repaired, and ditches dug. We came in
cold and wet and huddled around braziers set in a row down the
middle of the room. The eaves of the building were open at either
end, and the smoke rose to the ceiling and blew out downwind. It
was warmer inside than out, but never warm enough. The baron
provided blankets, which we wrapped around ourselves. Some of the
men pushed their pallets together and slept under shared coverings,
but I was not so close to any of the men to feel comfortable
joining them. There was jockeying to be closest to the braziers.
Ochto allowed no one to force anyone else out. Still, there was a
pecking order, and I was near the top, for my man-killer reputation
or maybe for the high value my workmates placed on my poetry
repertoire.
    I was hungry all the time, I longed for a hot bath, and still, I
wouldn’t have changed my situation for the world. I loved the
evenings and the storytelling, even the idle talk among the men.
Better the honest and companionable chatter than all the patronoi
of my uncle’s court.
    As a slave I thought I had a better understanding of why those
in the villa had turned on me but found I was not entirely correct.
Some of the slaves around me would have been happy to fight for
their baron. Others weren’t so sure. Their willingness to
fight was dependent on the certainty of winning, and they
wouldn’t take on a losing battle for their lord.
    “I’m his slave, not his liegeman,” said
Pundis. “He bought me at market when I couldn’t pay my
gambling debts. He can sell me just the same. My body is for sale,
not my loyalty. I owe him nothing.”
    “But you belong to your baron,” I said.
“Surely that means there is something more between the two of
you. If you were crippled tomorrow in an accident in his fields,
would your baron throw you out in the street to starve? I think
not. Not unless he wants to be shamed in front of the
patronoi.”
    I knew that there was at least one blind slave in the kitchens
and any number of older slaves around the household who
didn’t do enough work to justify their keep, but they were
kept nonetheless. Hanaktos may have rebelled against his king, but
he was a man who honored his obligations to his people.
    “Of course there are good masters and bad ones,” I
said. “There are some that would chuck their slaves out to
starve at the end of their lives, and I say, don’t fight for
them. But even as a slave you are part of your baron’s
household. It is his responsibility to support you.” I lifted
a fold of the warm wool blanket I was wrapped in, provided by the
baron we worked for. “And yours to support him,” I
said.
    Luca, at the end of my row, laughed harshly, and we turned as
one to look at him. “You talk,” he said.
“It’s talk, and that’s the all of it.”
    I shrugged, and Luca laughed again. “You keep saying
‘your baron,’ Man-killer. Isn’t he yours as well?
Are you going to rush up the hill to save him, or do you just
expect us to?” The other men saw me struck back and laughed.
My face reddened. I had no desire at all to defend their baron from
any