Vargas lay beside his wife after her news. ‘Pregnant… by the Six… by the stars…’ He stared listlessly at her, then he looked up at the ceiling, unsure of what to say. ‘Then abort the half breed!’ But the words died before they reached his tongue and turned to bitter ash before her flushed, smiling face.

“Do you… know the moment I fell in love with you?” He asked her, his voice quiet, calm, and for once in his life, unsure.

“No, when was it?” She asked as her right hand came to rest over his, on his stomach. She propped her head up on her left hand as she lay facing him.

“It was after that fire damaged part of my home and you let me stay with you for a little while…” He said, and she paused to laugh.

“Was my cooking that good or was it the sex?” She giggled a bit and then stopped laughing when his eyes glassed over and became shining pools of water.

“No… yes, they were…” He sucked air in hard through his nose and carried on with the story.

“We had a training exercise, just a little nothing of a thing, and by chance we stumbled on a large smuggler camp. We didn’t have our real swords handy, just practice ones. Still, we had no choice but to fight, and a lot of us were hurt, so many in fact that to save lives when it was over…” Vargas swallowed and carried on.

“Wh-When it was over, they couldn’t use full healing spells. We still lost twenty men, my practice sword was broken, my arm was broken… do you remember that day?” Vargas closed his eyes to keep from looking at her.

“I wasn’t there but, well, I mean I remember when you came home.” Ta’Lea replied with a gentle swallow. “Was it that bad out there?”

“No… just a fight. It’s what soldiers do… but that wasn’t it. When I came… came back, you had to live on that blasted second floor.” He let out a bitter chuckle, “I, well, when you saw me, your hands came to your mouth and covered it. You ran to me, helped me in. You held the door and I started to climb the stairs, and I fell.” Vargas’s voice caught in his throat and he turned to face her, forcing himself to open his eyes and see all of her, including the elven ears that marked her as an inferior creature designed by the gods for the service and pleasure of humanity, as all his life had told him.

“You caught me, you caught me. I stumbled, and you were there at my side, beneath my arm. I know my armor must have been heavy, but you wouldn’t let me fall. You got me up to bed, undressed my armor, dressed my injury, made tea, and stayed with me until the healer’s mana had regenerated enough and they began to make their rounds to our homes and restore us again.” Vargas squeezed her hand.

“That was the moment I fell in love with you, right there on those stairs. I never wanted to be with anyone else again. I wish we were still climbing those stairs together. I never wanted you or I to be anywhere else.” He raised his face up as a tear ran down it and caught in the space between his pale lips. The salty taste and feel of it was all the more stark in the silence that passed between them.

“I just… I wanted you to know that, Ta’Lea. If I had to pick any moment of my life to relive forever, I think that would have been it. I’m… suddenly very tired at the moment. Would you mind if I got some rest?” Vargas asked. ‘Never sleep comfortably around an unchained elf!’ The cry of instruction from his father echoed in his mind and he lay back down to close his eyes again.

“Go on… rest, my love, my hero.” Ta’Lea whispered and pressed her lips softly to his, light as the touch of a butterfly’s wings, and then like the same, they were lifted off and gone, and Vargas finally, thankfully, slept.

As he drifted off, Ta’Lea looked down at the sleeping face of her husband… ‘Silly man. I needed you too. You had no idea how much, and you still don’t. Ta’Lea clutched the thought to her like the babe already growing within her womb and let him sleep while she went out to work the grounds of the home his mistress had given them.

Johan Whyborne sat across from Amondera in the privacy of the old man’s office. He was sweating beneath his clothes, they were rich blues and greens with slimming pinstripes that flowed from the ruffled front at the collar and at the wrists. Around his neck he wore a gold medallion with the shape of chains to mark his pride in his profession. His pale face was wrinkled with age in the best of times, and now he added wrinkles of worry to it.

His bushy white eyebrows were deeply furrowed and he leaned over his large belly with his interlocked fingers together and hands firmly placed on Amondera’s desk. “In twenty years we’ve never missed a payment on any of our loans, why are you demanding rates like this of us now?! Why are you calling in our existing loans now? One or two I understand, but we have caravans running throughout the fifty-six cities! The Lur’gin company has been banking with Pas’en for over a hundred and twenty years! How can you do this to us?!”

Amondera kept his slender, wrinkled face neutral, the sweat on Johan Whyborne’s face already stank. “I’m sorry, but the uncertain economic times have forced us to restructure our way of doing things. What’s more, the new Duchessa here has taken a strong interest in our operations. She’s bought up many debts, including your own, and doesn’t trust the operation of your company as it is now. As her slave put it, ‘Debt is not profitable unless you own it and call it in’. She made it quite clear that you were to deposit the full amount of the purchased debt into her account before the month is out. Furthermore, she made it equally clear that we were not to give you loans at the same favorable rates as we had in the past or she would pull her wealth… as we’ve already leveraged her deposits into extensive loans to reconstruction company contracts for her expansion projects…” Amondera opened his hands in surrender, “There’s nothing I can do, I’m sorry.”

Johan Whyborne turned purple with rage, “Then we’ll just take out loans with the bank of Kai’sen, or Hanak’sen or…” He stopped when the head shaking of the old banker began.

“I’ve been informed that if you make that threat, we are to report the size of your current debt and your lack of assets to repay it. I’m sorry, Johan, really I am. But the Duchessa thought of everything.”

Johan sputtered and spat curses and his entire body shook like jelly with his rage growing ever higher, an evil look formed in his dark eyes, “Then we’ll just split our shares and sell them to raise the funds, repay these loans, and then move our business elsewhere.”

“You are free to do that, of course. I figured you might, so here you go.” Amondera leaned down to one side, slid open a desk drawer and took out a set of documents pertaining to the corporate structure of the Lur’gin Slave Company. He slid the sheaf of brown papers across from himself along with a blank amended filing form pertaining to share splitting and sales.

“I took the liberty of preparing this for you since your company papers are with us, but given the size of your debt and the impact this may have on your credit rating with the big banks of the Six, I suggest splitting them twice to create some cover capital.” Amondera’s voice was sympathetic, even kind, but Johan Whyborne was in no mood for either, he snatched the document and a quill from out of an inkwell.

“Just tell me what I need in order to cover it all, Amondera. I’ll give you vampires every drop you need and I hope you choke on it.” Johan cursed and waited patiently while Amondera ran through their debt to deposit totals line by line, and a number was finally come to.

Amondera was quick with his numbers, tallying out the total debts to what was owed on the call in and sliding it over to Johan, who then worked out the type of split he needed.

His eyes burned with impotent rage, “A triple split, we’ll go from five thousand shares worth twenty-five silver each, to fifteen thousand shares worth eight point three silver each. Call in a literate witness and a notary, and we’ll get this done!” Johan snarled as he scrawled the details on the document.

Amondera took a bell off the hook from the wall and rang the brass ball against the sides several times.

The gentle tinkling echoed outside, and Johan Whyborne looked over his shoulder to see a beautiful elven woman, slender with a lean, muscular frame and a bronze collar around her neck. Her long golden hair hung in a rope-like braid, and the question Johan was about to ask, ‘Can she read?’ died on his lips. Her confidence shone like the light reflected off her golden hair and she went and bowed politely to Amondera.

“Read this document, Freyjin, then sign as a witness.” He ordered brusquely, and Johan watched as the one called Freyjin read it over.

“Does Pas’en allow slaves to act as witnesses now? When did that change?” Johan asked without looking up at the pretty elf, he failed to notice her ears twitch.

“You must have been out of the city at the time, yes, the former consort of the Prince pushed for it. It was often the case that slaves were the only witness to abuses done to other slaves. But since they weren’t able to speak in court…” he shrugged, letting them draw the obvious conclusion. And then there was an incident where the master of an estate was murdered by his wife, but the only witnesses were her two slaves…” Amondera shrugged, “It isn’t a complete shift, but two or more can testify in court, counting each as one half a free person. While in matters of contract law as long as those signatories agree that for purposes of witnessing, a slave is considered a person.” Amondera shrugged it off.

Freyjin twitched her ears again, but focused on what she read, her eyes scanned the documents while they spoke.

“Well, you might not believe this coming from me but… it’s for the best. Cruel owners destroy the stock and they devalue the property on resale, it’s a real problem in some cities that have fewer protections. From what I’ve been hearing about the new Duchessa, she’s expanded on those protections though, more than I really like if you want the truth.” Johan grumbled a bit, “I mean really, I understand what she means about losing her labor and the breaking up of families… but it does put a dent in the market.” He glared at Amondera, “And this isn’t going to help.”

Freyjin twitched her long ears again when she recalled her daughter’s black eye, and slowly exhaled to keep her temper as she finished the document.

“I am done, masters.” She said with a downward humble gaze, folding her hands together in front of herself. The fingers of her left hand pressed hard over the fingers of her right, disguising her tension from their inattentive eyes.

“Good.” Amondera signed the document and slid it over the table, the sound of its sliding brought a faint ache to Johan’s ample gut.

‘Something feels wrong… so wrong…’ He darted his eyes around the room, but it all seemed fine, Amondera sat back in his chair, hands folded over one another on the light colored desk, the bank’s slave stood demurely with hands folded and eyes downward.

He shook his head, ‘I’m being paranoid.’ he thought, and signed the paper with an angry scratch of the quill.

“Don’t forget to mark that you acknowledge that this slave is a person for witness purposes.” Amondera replied, and Freyjin’s ears shook uncomfortably.

“Right.” Johan acknowledged and signed again.

Freyjin then took up the wax seal and pressed it to the paper. After setting the red wax seal aside she picked up the quill and signed her owner’s name.

Amondera then took the document and nodded approvingly as he locked it in his desk drawer. “I’ll file it with the city records department today, however as it is official now, I should tell you I’ve had a standing offer of seven Pas’enian silver per share, if the price ever dropped. However the offer is conditional upon immediate acceptance, and I promised I would deliver the offer to you immediately. If you don’t accept, you may risk the stock price falling lower than you’re asking, and they’re willing to not only buy the split, but the reserve held by the company itself.”

“So… we’d be out of debt with some to spare…” Johan’s eyes bugged out of his head at the unexpected opportunity.

“Yes, yes you would.” Amondera said in a firm, aged voice, his slender wrinkled face was old, but the sparkle in his eyes was as young as that of a man in his prime.

Johan clapped his hands excitedly, “Done. Sell at that price, if they’re an account holder here, then do the paperwork, then transfer the money we need to cover the debt... and move the remainder into the company account.” The fat old man wiped his forehead with relief as Amondera got up from his chair.

“I’ll do it right now, it will be just a few minutes to adjust the books.” Amondera added as he left his office.

The door closed, leaving Freyjin alone with Johan, she held her posture, standing silently and staring at the floor.

Johan didn’t speak with her at first, just glanced idly about the room, he took no more note of her than he did of any other piece of furniture, except a critical look that, when she caught the reflection of it in some glass, told her it was purely professional interest.

That was when he finally spoke. “How long has Amondera owned you? Also, do you know what he paid?”

Freyjin shook her head, “Master Amondera does not own me sir, I am here representing my mistress’s interests. As for what she paid for me, I was part of a bulk buy, a midnight sale from one of your company warehouses several months ago. The same one that bought the former Lady Kaiji.”

For a moment Johan was about to say he had no reason to know what her sale was, but the mention of Kaiji caught his ear enough to stop him cold. “Yes… I remember that, an absurd amount of coin was paid for all that stock…” Johan stroked his triple chin, “I was actually in the city when I heard about that one, for a discipline case, you’re very well trained now.”

It was the ugliest praise Freyjin ever heard, but she took it passively and let the trace of a smile form on her downcast face, “The Duchessa has proven herself beyond the common lot, I am as proud to serve her as I could be.”

“Good… things are better that way, slave.” Johan replied, but then he thought about what she said, “What do you mean your mistress’s interests… wait…” He hesitated as it all began to come together in his mind.

Amondera returned just as Johan was shooting up to his feet as fast as his weight would allow, “It’s done,” he said and turned to Freyjin, “your mistress now has a controlling interest of eighty-five percent of Lur’gin company stock.”

“You… tricked me?! You both tricked me?! She bought the debt just so she could force us to split the stock, so that she could then buy us out at bedrock prices…!” Johan shouted with rage, his deep voice bellowed over the bank, his face turned purple with his fury.

Every inch of him shouted to raise his hand and strike the bronze collared slave and swipe the growing evil smile off her face.

“That is not the only debt.” Freyjin said serenely, her bright blue eyes finally rising to meet his, “She bought the debt of you and every one of your company officers. The books will be audited, and you can all count on severe cuts in pay.”

Johan’s face, which had been purple with rage, turned white with absolute horror, as if a monster stood before him, yet he knew the truth, ‘The real monster is the one who pulls the strings.’

“She ‘requests’ a meeting with all your senior executives at her manor at her earliest convenience, you are free to refuse, but anyone who does not attend can count on having their own loans called in and their property ‘evaluated’ for tax purposes again if it lies on the grounds of her demesne.” Freyjin’s smile was not even slightly hidden anymore. She savored his fear, his horror, his confusion and sense of loss as his world was swiped from under him like a rug yanked away while he was standing on it.

“I… this… you… she… I won’t forget this!” Johan shouted and jabbed his fat finger out toward the bronze collared Freyjin. “You think this is over, you think you can just ‘take’ from me? From us?! This isn’t even close to over!” He bellowed, and stormed out of Amondera’s office, and then out of the bank. Freyjin’s eyes followed the body of the fat slaver as he clambered into a carriage and slammed the door loudly enough to be heard from within without even waiting for the coachman to attend to it. Numerous customers stared outside in obvious confusion, then shrugged it off as the carriage pulled away.

Amondera slumped, “I was never on the best of terms with Johan personally, but he was an honest trader, I didn’t enjoy that… but…” He perked up a bit, “It was profitable, and that’s always good!”

“I’m sure my mistress will be pleased, master Amondera, just be careful… I don’t think he was addressing only me, or my mistress.” Freyjin cautioned him as gently as she could and then gave him a polite bow.

Amondera’s old brow wrinkled more as he thought it over, “I don’t think he would really… well, would he?”

Freyjin shrugged, “I don’t know him, but anyone who rips children away from their mothers to make a few coppers, loves his money enough that a revenge killing of one old man who cost him a fortune, is nothing.”

“That is a fair point… I will take it under advisement, slave. Thank you for the warning.” Amondera replied with a troubled, distant look on his face.

Freyjin bowed once more, and left the bank smiling from ear to ear.