King of Slaves (Jenna's Story) (The Slave Series Book 5) (38 page)

Kioni nodded and looked to the person closest to him. “And you, priest? What do you say?”

The priest took his time, clearly enjoying the spotlight for a moment. He leaned forward, making his sad little figure seem even smaller as his head got closer to the table. He had thick black hair that had been cut by himself or someone with little skill. It lay flat against his head and looked greasy. Combined with his round glasses and a tiny mouth it made him resemble a mole. There was excitement in his eyes when he waved his index finger around and spoke in a dramatic tone. “If you ban our religion we, the high priests of the true god Masi, can assure you that you and your entire family will be damned forever, and so will the people of Spirima. The ground will burn and people will die and…”

“Oh, what a bucket of horse piss… Don’t listen to that dwarf.” Zurry jumped up again, and slammed his fist down on the table, making the little mole jump in his seat. This was a version of Zurry younger than the one Jenna knew; he was trimmed and strong, and stood leaning forward like a male gorilla with his fists on the table, looking older than the twenty-nine he would have been back then.

“Did he really say bucket of horse piss?” Jenna asked.

Mr. Tulm shook his head with a smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. Jenna thought,
I’m getting the mild translation.

For all the times she had discussed or fought with Zurry herself, she still respected how passionate and fearless he was. He always spoke his mind, although he could benefit from a bit of diplomacy.

Zurry’s eyes were narrowed, looking straight at the little priest ,when he shouted, “This country has been stuck for centuries because of your twisted and evil religion. The outside world is right. Look around you. Where else do you see slavery and human sacrifices?
Nowhere!
It’s outdated and cruel and we are better than that.” Zurry dried away the sweat dripping from his forehead.

The mole tried to rise in his seat and protested. “Spirima has profited from the only true god Masi’s guidance and protection for the last four hundred years.”

“Profited? How exactly have we profited? Look around you, midget, the infidels around the world seem to be doing just fine without Masi and I guarantee you that we will too.”

Kioni was sitting, impassively, observing Zurry with a finger thoughtfully brushing over his lips.

“Zurry, you make a strong point…” He picked up a letter in front of him and read aloud. “In response to Spirima’s request to have the sanctions lifted that have been imposed for the last sixteen years… blah… blah… blah… where is it… oh, here – the brutal, cruel, and unnecessary practices of Spirima have long caused worry and sadness internationally. The UN condemns any form of slavery and any sort of human sacrifice and demands that these practices be stopped immediately. As long as these barbaric actions take place, there will be no lifting of sanctions, nor any financial aid.”

Kioni let his glance slide over his council members. “In other words, if I ban Masi and the practices of slavery and sacrifices, the international society will be more than happy to lift all sanctions. Wouldn’t you like to see trade and prosperity flow between Spirima and the outside world again?”

“But banning Masi is impossible,” the priest protested. “It’s such a fundamental part of our nation. Our country would completely collapse without the structure we have built around slavery. What would happen to the millions of slaves? Where would they go? Where would they live? You don’t know what you are suggesting. The slave owners would never agree to give up their slaves or their religion.”

“If it’s against the law they have no bloody choice,” Zurry interjected. 

“But… But…” The priest looked around for support.

A gray-haired, noble-looking man pitched in. “If you take away our right to worship Masi and our right to keep slaves, then how are we going to live?”

“Ever heard about payment and salary?” Zurry interjected again.

The noble man rose to his feet, provoked by Zurry, but Kioni held up his hand and addressed the gray-haired man. “Mantonis, I hear you.”

“That is General Mantonis?” Jenna gasped.

“Yes,” Mr. Tulm confirmed.

On the screen Mantonis slowly released his hateful glance from Zurry and turned toward Kioni to listen.

“I know you and your family will be greatly affected with all your factories being dependent on the workers, but couldn’t you find a way to pay them somehow?”

Jenna pressed pause. “Why was Mantonis even in the council to begin with? You just said that he had lost his mind?”

“He was the advisor from industry and was one of Spirima’s wealthiest men. Mantonis used to be highly respected, and I suppose that’s why so many joined him in his fight against King Kopilus.”

“Okay.” Jenna pressed play again. 

“Pay them? With what?” Mantonis exclaimed.

Zurry was shaking his head and making sounds of suppressed laughter. “With money, Mantonis. You’ve got stacks of it, why don’t you share a little?”

Mantonis shot another hateful glance at Zurry that gave Jenna the creeps. His expression changed from civilized to animalistic, and once again the threat of a physical fight was hovering in the air.

Old Gillander leaned forward again. “You can’t do that.”

Kioni spoke in a controlled voice. “I am king of the slaves and I assure you: I can free them if I choose.”

“Banning the Masi religion would mean civil war.”

“Bring it on,” Zurry shouted as if Gillander had just declared war on him personally. “We are not afraid of a fight.” Zurry’s eyes were blazing with anger.

Kioni sighed and closed his eyes. “So what are my choices then?” he began. “Civil war or an isolated Spirima hopelessly behind on infrastructure and technology. Isn’t there a third option?” Kioni waited but no one spoke, and then he turned to a man with an obscenely large nose for his small face.

“Would we be able to count on support from international society if a rebellion rises?”

The man nodded and with hands slightly shaking, he cleared his throat. “I spoke with the representative from Hunish and he assured us that our neighbors will at least provide humanitarian assistance, and although the secretary general of the UN didn’t confirm it, I’m certain they will send armed forces to help us if the need arises. They are determined to end slavery and human sacrifices.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to a civil war,” Kioni pondered out loud. Then he turned his back on the men and waved a hand in the air. “Please leave me. I will think hard and make my decision; this meeting is over.”

“Finally!” Zurry exclaimed. “I’m going for a beer. The biggest I can find.” And then he left in long strides.

The little mole of a priest snaked over the floor and tugged at Kioni, who had gotten up and was closer to the camera now. “I really should warn you that…”

Kioni scowled down at him. “You already did. I will be damned… Now leave.”

Mr. Tulm stopped the video clip. “Well, of course you know what his decision was and the outcome of that.”

Jenna sat for a minute, reflecting on what she had just seen. Kioni had looked so young and yet carried so heavy a burden.

“You look troubled, Jenna.”

“It’s just that… why didn’t Kio say something to support Zurry when he spoke about how wrong slavery was? I always thought Kioni banned Masi because he found it immoral, but that wasn’t the reason at all.”

Mr. Tulm said nothing.

“It looked to me as if the only normally thinking guy around that table was your son.”

Mr. Tulm chuckled. “You look surprised.”

“Well, yes.”

“I think there is something you are overlooking.”

“What?”

“King Kopilus is a modern man. Educated by great thinkers from foreign countries. At no point during the council meetings does he argue his own opinion, because it wouldn’t serve him.”

“Why?”

“Because some would take his side just to be in his favor, and very few would be strong or brave enough to argue against him. The king listens to his advisors and only shares his opinion when he has made his decision.”

A knock on the door made them both look up.

“Oh, hello, son, come in; we were just finishing for today.”

Jenna was deep in thought about Kioni’s role as a king, but there was something different about Zurry that made her alarm bells ring. “You look happy,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

“I am happy,” he said with a huge smile.

“Why?” Jenna asked suspiciously. “Did you talk to Alex?”

“I did.” He chuckled. “And I think she is looking for you.”

Jenna didn’t want to interrogate Zurry in front of his father, but she was curious to know what had made him grin like a fisher reeling in the biggest salmon in the lake. Still, after just watching him fight for a modern Spirima and hearing him, fearlessly, go up against powerful men to set the slaves free, she had a new respect for him. He might be a womanizer, and she still didn’t want her sister to be hurt, but he was also a good guy with a big heart, not to mention the man who possibly saved both her and Kio’s life.

“Zurry… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” He took a seat on the windowsill.

“Did Kio share your beliefs on slaves, before his decision to ban Masi?”

Zurry looked at the computer screen and understanding flared in his eyes. “I think you should ask Kop himself.”

“I’m asking you.”

Zurry’s glee dampened. “The short answer is yes, but it’s a complex subject.”

“Why.”

He looked at his father and then back at Jenna. “Well, first of all, Kop didn’t want to be a king to begin with.”

“What?”

“We used to fantasize about being all sorts of crazy things when we grew up, and he resented being prepared and groomed for a role he didn’t want.”

“Why didn’t he want it?” Jenna asked.

“Because of the people in power. His father and the council were traditionalists, and Spirima had long been left behind by the rest of the world. We used to travel a lot when we were younger and every time we came back it felt like traveling back in time to a different century. I can’t tell you how many times Kop argued with his father and pushed for a modernization of the kingdom, but it always got stranded with the need for funding. With the sanctions there was no money for better schools, and it meant that too many were completely illiterate or in the best cases poorly educated. Only a few elite schools offered a decent education, and those schools were all limited to the privileged in society. We both resented how superstition and nonsense throve among our countrymen, and no matter what good ideas Kop presented to his father on how to improve the roads, the hospitals, the public transportation system… it always ended with the same discussion. How will we raise the money?

“But when his father died, he got his chance to change things. Why didn’t he want it?” Jenna asked.

Zurry shrugged. “Maybe he didn’t think there was much hope.”

“So what made him change his mind?”

Zurry folded his arms and stretched his legs in front of him. “You know that note of paper he has framed above his bed?”

“Yes, I know it… what about it?”

“Do you remember what it says?”

Jenna closed her eyes, trying to recall it. “Something about being ruled by evil men.”

”Yes… on the night Kop’s dad died, he had a bit of a meltdown and refused to take over the crown. We argued about it until four-thirty in the morning, and I kept saying that the alternative would be that Mantonis and others like him would run the country, and we couldn’t allow that to happen. While discussing, we drank quite a bit of whisky and eventually Kop passed out on me. Before I left, I wrote that quote on a note, and taped it to his forehead.”

“The price of apathy toward public affairs is to be ruled by evil men,” Mr. Tulm said slowly.

“Wow…” Jenna looked at both men. “Now, that note makes so much more sense to me. Who said it, was it Goethe?”

Zurry shook his head. “No, it was Plato.”

Mr. Tulm pointed to his wall, where an old fashioned embroidery hung. “My wife made that one for me back in nineteen-ninety-five for our tenth anniversary. It’s the same quote, but it has some unfortunate spelling mistakes because her English isn’t the best, but we don’t tell her that.”

Jenna was trying to decipher the cursive writing and saw that evil was spelled eval, public was spelled pubic, and instead of apathy it said empathy. She couldn’t resist reading out, “The price of empathy toward pubic affairs is to be ruled by eval men.”

Mr. Tulm smiled. “It’s still my favorite quote.”

“So Kio woke up with that plastered to his forehead, saw the light, and was crowned king – is that it?”

“Yes, pretty much, so you see, to answer your question about how Kioni felt about slavery, you have to see the bigger picture. His ambitions were always to modernize Spirima, and choosing to marry you is a strong signal to everyone that a new era is upon us.

Jenna swallowed hard and was just about to ask more questions, but Zurry beat her to it.