Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 690(@200wpm)___ 552(@250wpm)___ 460(@300wpm)
A gauntlet had been thrown on a table meant to bring forth diplomacy.
And it was not shocking that Gallienus had thrown it.
What was unknown was what would come of it.
And True did not have a good feeling about it.
“You do know, Aramus’s great-great grandfather enacted the Those in Service Act,” Cassius said to the ceiling, his eyes still closed.
“‘Those in Service,’” Gallienus scoffed. “Is that a jest?”
“No,” Cassius replied, opened his eyes and turned his head on the back of his seat to look at his father at the foot of the table. “The Act is relatively all encompassing.”
“Binding is binding,” Gallienus bit.
“For instance,” Cassius went on like his father had not spoken. “You cannot take your hand, nor fist, whip, paddle, crop, or other to your bounden in anger, in punishment, in retribution, or for any reason. If you do, the punishment served will be jailtime for the proprietor.”
“And I’ll repeat, binding is binding,” Gallienus decreed.
“You also can’t force your intentions on a bounden, be you male or female, your bounden male or female. If you do, your jailtime is much increased. And if it’s a child, you face a noose,” Cassius shared.
True looked to Aramus.
He was studying the fingernails of the hand attached to the arm hooked on the back of his chair.
Cassius turned his gaze again to the ceiling and closed his eyes. “And if a bounden serves his or her proprietor for fifteen years, they can petition for liberty, which must be granted. They then are given any belongings they’ve collected, a new set of clothes, boots, a steed and a bag of silver. Or they could petition to stay in service as a paid servant. And a proprietor cannot sell or trade a bounden. If they cannot keep their bounden, they must free him or her.”
“Perhaps we should ask a Mar-el bounden here, son, and he can lay testimony to his fair treatment,” Gallienus suggested acidly.
Cassius turned his head again and the air in the room changed when he whispered, “I note you said ‘he.’”
Aramus chuckled.
Gallienus moved with agitation in his seat.
Cassius continued speaking.
“The Act also includes strict edicts on the provision of food, medicine, garments and housing. Bounden can marry at will. Spouses cannot be separated for any reason, not of their own choosing. And any child they produce is born free.”
“So it’s all right with you that any ship from the Northlands, the Southlands, The Mystics or Triton can sail through Mar-el’s waters, be boarded and innocent people pressed into service for fifteen years?” Gallienus demanded.
His emphasis on the word “Mar-el’s” was telling.
What peeved Gallienus was that the waters belonged to Mar-el.
He didn’t give a damn about the bounden.
He wanted the seas.
However, how he thought he’d get them, or access to them, by possibly angering the man who ruled them, True couldn’t begin to imagine.
“It is not unknown the perils of the sea, Father.”
“How about this?” Aramus took his arm from his seatback and turned fully to the table. “The Airenzian give women leave to own property. To press charges and have them justly tried if anyone causes her physical harm, rapes or violates her in any way. And all are freed to the right of peaceable assembly should they wish to gather together to darn their husband’s socks, organize to petition the king for better royal patronage of orphanages or say, any reason. In return, I will grant freedom to all bounden of Mar-el after five years of service.”
“In a time where women were allowed assembly, they used that right to plot and connive and thousands of men died,” Gallienus reminded the Mar-el king.
“They did indeed,” Aramus agreed.
“Further, our women are not bounden,” Gallienus spat.
“Are they not?” Aramus queried.
“An Airenzian woman does not have to marry her husband. She does not have to take his coin in return for cooking his food and cleaning his hearth,” Gallienus retorted. “She chooses to and it is our custom that a man rules his house as he sees fit.”
“Does she? Choose to, that is,” Aramus asked.
“Of course!” Gallienus returned.
“I would not choose to clean anyone’s hearth,” Aramus noted. “I would do this only if I had to do it in order to eat.”
“She has choices,” Gallienus sniffed.
“Yes,” Aramus agreed. “It’s my understanding girls in your realm cease education at age twelve. They do this by royal edict. Hence, they are not allowed to be doctor, midwife, lawyer, teacher or merchant. So they do have choices. Service. Or whore, prostitute, doxie. Or wife, which is much the same depending on if her husband has some coin, much coin, or is a sailor.”
Cassius and Mars both chuckled.
True clenched his teeth.
“You find this amusing, my son?” Gallienus asked.
Cassius, who had his eyes closed and was facing the ceiling again, turned his head his father’s way. “Which part? You demanding the Mar-el free all bounden? Or Aramus defining the different types of working girls based on the men who use them?”