Read Online Shadowmage: Book Nine Of The Spellmonger Series by Terry Mancour - Free Book Online
Authors: Terry Mancour
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down over that ridge, there,” he pointed into the darkness. “But apparently all of the Sea Lords spend the Hour of the Maiden drinking that revolting wine and seawater stuff and eating delicacies off the arses of slave girls - the usual,” he shrugged.
“The usual,” Tyndal nodded, drunkenly.
“So the Alshari slaves all waited until the remaining Sea Lords were drunk, then they wrapped them up in sailcloth and took them into the swamps and strung them up over the river drakes. They armed themselves, looted the havens, burned a good number of them, burned some ships, and retreated into the interior.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Tyndal agreed.
“They thought so,” nodded Rondal. “When the fleet returned, they found some of their kin slain, their homes burned, their slaves fled, and their fields destroyed.”
“They were not happy pirates,” concluded Tyndal.
“No, my friend, they were not. The Sea Lords of Solashaven rounded up as many stragglers and survivors as they could find, and found out that most of their kin were being held hostage. For every slave who was put to death, a Sea Lord would be fed to the drakes. The unhappy pirates didn’t have much choice – those were their kids.
“So they agreed to Vingata’s terms. All the escaped slaves could go up to the furthest inland Sea Lord settlement, on a lake at the other end of this river, where their masters were the cruelest and they’d slain every one, and they could possess it in freedom. And work the lands around it as free Alshari. They called the place Vatyne . It means ‘sanctuary’.”
“Pretty,” Tyndal grunted.
“The Sea Lords didn’t think so. The Vingati priests made a law than any slave who came within the province was free, which irritated the Sea Lords . . . but they dare not take action. Every night, during the Maiden’s Hour, if there had been an incident against the Vingati, they would throw a Sea Lord captive into the pit. And then light a torch to let them know. After a couple of episodes, they reached an uneasy truce. But it only held as long as the captives were held, and the Sea Lords were patient.
“Eventually,” he said, halting near the corner of the warehouse they’d been watching all afternoon, “the two sides reached a deal: the Vingati would release all but one of the captives, but that one had to stay in Vatyne a full month as hostage. At the end of the month, another Sea Lord would arrive, and they’d return the first. And so on.”
“So if there was any trouble, they had one to sacrifice,” nodded Tyndal.
“Right. That didn’t make the pirates much happier, but they had most of their kids back. And they quickly imported enough slaves to get the plantations running again. They ignored the Alshari. They repaired their towers or built new ones, built a new fleet, and essentially carried on being bloodthirsty bastards.”
“And the slaves were free and happy to this very day!” Tyndal pronounced dramatically, as another girl walked by and giggled.
“Don’t be stupid. The Sea Lords bided their time. They resented the hold their former slaves had over them, and hated more the extraordinary wines the Vatyni produced - they’re in the middle of the Bikavar region,” he added.
“I am passingly familiar with their wares,” Tyndal agreed, reverently.
“Indeed. So were the Sea Lords, and they resented most the high price the former slaves put on each barrel. But they bought it anyway, because--”
“It’s wine, and when you’re thirsty, what can you do?”
“You reason just like a Sea Lord, my friend. So that’s how they carried on.”
“Until . . .” Tyndal said, expectantly.
“Until one day, a few years later, when most had forgotten the way that Vatyne was settled, the Sea Lords ordered a prodigious amount of wine for their festival to the
“The usual,” Tyndal nodded, drunkenly.
“So the Alshari slaves all waited until the remaining Sea Lords were drunk, then they wrapped them up in sailcloth and took them into the swamps and strung them up over the river drakes. They armed themselves, looted the havens, burned a good number of them, burned some ships, and retreated into the interior.”
“Sounds like a good plan,” Tyndal agreed.
“They thought so,” nodded Rondal. “When the fleet returned, they found some of their kin slain, their homes burned, their slaves fled, and their fields destroyed.”
“They were not happy pirates,” concluded Tyndal.
“No, my friend, they were not. The Sea Lords of Solashaven rounded up as many stragglers and survivors as they could find, and found out that most of their kin were being held hostage. For every slave who was put to death, a Sea Lord would be fed to the drakes. The unhappy pirates didn’t have much choice – those were their kids.
“So they agreed to Vingata’s terms. All the escaped slaves could go up to the furthest inland Sea Lord settlement, on a lake at the other end of this river, where their masters were the cruelest and they’d slain every one, and they could possess it in freedom. And work the lands around it as free Alshari. They called the place Vatyne . It means ‘sanctuary’.”
“Pretty,” Tyndal grunted.
“The Sea Lords didn’t think so. The Vingati priests made a law than any slave who came within the province was free, which irritated the Sea Lords . . . but they dare not take action. Every night, during the Maiden’s Hour, if there had been an incident against the Vingati, they would throw a Sea Lord captive into the pit. And then light a torch to let them know. After a couple of episodes, they reached an uneasy truce. But it only held as long as the captives were held, and the Sea Lords were patient.
“Eventually,” he said, halting near the corner of the warehouse they’d been watching all afternoon, “the two sides reached a deal: the Vingati would release all but one of the captives, but that one had to stay in Vatyne a full month as hostage. At the end of the month, another Sea Lord would arrive, and they’d return the first. And so on.”
“So if there was any trouble, they had one to sacrifice,” nodded Tyndal.
“Right. That didn’t make the pirates much happier, but they had most of their kids back. And they quickly imported enough slaves to get the plantations running again. They ignored the Alshari. They repaired their towers or built new ones, built a new fleet, and essentially carried on being bloodthirsty bastards.”
“And the slaves were free and happy to this very day!” Tyndal pronounced dramatically, as another girl walked by and giggled.
“Don’t be stupid. The Sea Lords bided their time. They resented the hold their former slaves had over them, and hated more the extraordinary wines the Vatyni produced - they’re in the middle of the Bikavar region,” he added.
“I am passingly familiar with their wares,” Tyndal agreed, reverently.
“Indeed. So were the Sea Lords, and they resented most the high price the former slaves put on each barrel. But they bought it anyway, because--”
“It’s wine, and when you’re thirsty, what can you do?”
“You reason just like a Sea Lord, my friend. So that’s how they carried on.”
“Until . . .” Tyndal said, expectantly.
“Until one day, a few years later, when most had forgotten the way that Vatyne was settled, the Sea Lords ordered a prodigious amount of wine for their festival to the
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