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“Yes. He’s got some plan or idea or bargain or something.”
The Copper half expected to see Harf again, recaptured, but the young man who came before him wearing the tatters of some very tight weaving just looked at him with clear blue eyes. He was extraordinarily handsome, as far as he could tell hominid standards went.
“What is it you want, man?”
“Great one. This bridge of yours. It’s a death trap.” He spoke the simplified pidgin Drakine with a thick accent; he hadn’t been in the keeping of the Lavadome long, it seemed. As for his observation, that required no great mind to discern, with the bones and bodies of dead animals and handlers scattered all over the floor of the canyon below.
“Do you offer a remedy, or is this just idle conversation?”
“I know how to improve it.”
“Do you, now. Have you built many bridges?”
“I’ve been involved in several construction projects. I was trained by dwarves.”
“I didn’t know they shared their secrets so readily with outsiders.”
“I was a kind of special apprentice, your honor.”
“What’s your name?”
“Rayg.”
The Copper did like the look of him, except for the fact that he didn’t appear particularly afraid of dragons. New thralls usually bent and tucked their heads down between their shoulders like frightened turtles.
“I should like to hear your plans.”
“I have a condition.”
“You forget your place. I could lift you and toss you down to rest with the other bones, and no one would say a word.”
The man called Rayg just blinked at him.
The Copper relented, though he wondered if it was a mistake to do so. “What’s your condition?”
“My freedom.”
“Oh, dear. I can’t say that I blame you, but there’s a problem. You’re not my slave.”
“I’m sure I can be traded.”
“Let me see your plans. Then we’ll talk again.”
He widened his stance. “No. Buy me, and then I’ll show you the plan. If you like the plan, I’ll expect my freedom.”
“You’ll supervise the construction?”
“Yes. As long as I can get more, much more, of the materials you’re using now. And some good stonecutters.”
“If I’m satisfied with the bridge you build, I’ll grant you your freedom. You seem intelligent enough, so I’ll see about buying you.”
Negotiating with thralls. The duties of an Upholder, even an Upholder-to-be, had a variety of flavors. Which made him think of the herbs Halaflora added to those big-footed rabbits Fourfang had caught….
He learned from the grunting deman overseer that this Rayg belonged to a general pool of Imperial thralls, to be used for mundane duties like building dams, clearing tunnels, mining for ores necessary to a healthy dragon’s diet. As a member of the Imperial line he could make claims on such thralls, so he simply affirmed that the Uphold in Anaea needed him and paid out a small sum to the overseer as a kind of gratuity.
The Copper was very grateful his life couldn’t be bought and sold so easily.
He had Rayg transferred to his household and introduced to Fourfang and Rhea with a minimum of squabbling. He set Rayg to work with a chalk tablet used to keep track of rations—it would take time to get paper—and tried to do what he could to retrieve the bags of kern from the fallen animals. Blood or rats had spoiled much of it.
