Free A Noble Estate by A.C. Ellas Page A

addition to himself, Jisten was made known to Dius, Hoxel and Chegalen. They were the house overseer, the grounds overseer and the forester, respectively. There were six indoor slaves, all female, and twelve outdoor slaves, all male.
    Once everyone was lined up for his inspection, Jisten positioned Zala to face them. Rak and Jethain remained beside him, and the two standard-bearers were to their outside. The others had taken the wagon and avtappi to the stable in the back.
    In a parade-ground voice, Jisten announced, “As you know, I am the new Baron of Relyt. I am also a Valer, the Captain of the Palace Guard and the Crown Prince’s Champion. Rumor has no need of wings to fly, but truth is often hobbled. This is High Priest S’Rak of the Thezi sect of the Lord of Night.”
    “We’re all gonna die!” wailed one of the worker slaves.
    Hoxel scowled and took a step toward the man, his belt whip in hand.
    Rak raised his hands and said, “Free will being sacred, no man nor woman nor intelligent beast shall be bound unwilling.” Green electricity crackled threateningly about the overseer, who gasped and dropped his whip.
    “No more whips,” Jisten announced. “No more collars. You are all free.”
    “Lord Zotien,” Rak prayed in Koilathan, “we beseech You to free these people, enslaved in defiance of Your divine law.” Black fire descended, laced with green, red, blue and violet and every single collar cracked asunder and fell to the ground in pieces. Then the flames danced, healing every bruise, scrape and welt.
    Jisten laughed in delight. He hadn’t discussed his plans in any detail, but his mate certainly knew what he’d wanted.
    Some of the ex-slaves felt their necks, some grabbed the collars from the ground, others hugged each other.
    Jisten turned his gaze on the two overseers. “Do you stay and accept that the people you oversee are free, or do you wish to depart—immediately?”
    “I’ll stay,” said Dius, shrugging. He nudged Hoxel.
    “I’ll…stay.” Hoxel didn’t look too pleased, and Jisten was frankly surprised that he’d opted to remain.
    He turned next to the ex-slaves. “You also have a choice. Stay and be paid fair wages for your work or depart my lands. Whether you chose to remain or depart, I shall gift each of you gold enough to reach Okyro, where slavery is anathema, in addition to your manumissions.”
    Tebber and Pikara came out of the manor carrying a table, which they set down under the shade of the overhanging porch. Sed, Kal and Orste brought out three chairs, which they set along one side of the table. Tebber set a stack of papers down along with a bottle of ink and a pen.
    Jisten was pleased by how quickly his instructions had been carried out. He sat down and rifled through the papers.
    The papers were manumission forms that Jisten had brought from Karpos, and he had already filled out most of the information. All that he’d have to do was write in each slave’s name and number. He looked at Cisteon. “I’ll need the slave register.”
    “At once, my lord.” The steward vanished through the doors so swiftly that Jisten wondered if he’d ever see the man again.
    Jethain was watching at the milling ex-slaves as he sat down. “Araken, how frisky are you feeling? Did you arrange for a portal to Okyro?”
    “That really depends on how frisky S’Avetina is feeling,” said Dolron, deadpan.
    “Of course I did,” said Rak, sitting on Jisten’s other side. “But we do hope that enough people remain to keep this place running.”
    “As for that,” Jisten said, “I sent out a call amongst the Valers for assistance in the form of employment. The café and cacao trees here were spared the blight in the Vales.”
    “Still, this is the land these people have worked, the land they know better than any other. They should have first option,” Rak replied.
    Jisten nodded. “I agree. Thank you for your help. I didn’t think anything short of a display of power would