aircannonsinc Chapter 44 Tiberius: You're just a slave, and you're even helping your master care?
Chapter 44 Tiberius: You're just a slave, and you're even helping your master care?
"What the hell?" Vito's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when he heard Tiberius's words.
"Slave, Tiberius, are you out of your mind? Those slaves can fight? Are you kidding me?"
"Vito, I'm serious!" Tiberius said impatiently.
"I don't want those slick city dwellers: they have too many ulterior motives and are too worldly-wise to be obedient to my orders. At the same time, on the battlefield, if there are too many soldiers with their own ideas, they will scatter and all think about their own survival! Not to mention during training, they are unlikely to listen to a kid like me."
"As for what you said, directly throwing money at it to create one or two small to medium-sized mercenary groups... that's not impossible, but Vito, have you considered something?"
"What is it?" Vito asked, somewhat curious.
"Do you think that what you've thought of, Lisanro wouldn't have thought of? Couldn't he have bought a mercenary group himself?" Tiberius explained to Vito with great distress.
"What we need to do is make Lisangluo fully acknowledge our value! Spending money? Anyone can do that. But training a fighting force in a short time is what truly demonstrates the strength of our White Legion!"
[To be precise, it's about demonstrating my strength. Please don't throw me onto the battlefield of Volantis!] Tiberius thought to himself.
"Furthermore, I certainly won't choose the old, weak, sick, or disabled to be my soldiers: I've decided to specifically look for slaves from defeated tribes or former free people in the slave market." A shrewd glint flashed in Tiberius's eyes.
"Why do you do that?" Vito asked, puzzled.
"Vito, didn't you say that Braavos gave three thousand mercenaries a share of the profits and land, and they breached Pentos's defenses? Now I'm doing the same thing!" Tiberius said with a smile. "Except that Braavos provided the mercenaries with land and a stable flow of gold, I'm giving them free citizen status!"
Vito remained silent for a long time. Finally, he let out a long sigh, shook his head as if resigned, and looked at Tiberius with a hint of helpless admiration: "Damn it... you kid, your ideas are always so... unexpected. Fine! We'll do it your way! I'll go along with your madness this once and for all! But you'd better have a good eye for choosing slaves, don't buy back any troublemakers!"
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Inside the market in Rees.
Tiberius sized up a dark-skinned slave in front of him, who was holding a quill and parchment.
"Brother, what are you doing here?" Tiberius said to him rather affectionately.
He valued this man because he needed some literate and quick-witted assistants to help him handle the increasingly complex paperwork and logistics of the legion.
Considering cost and controllability, he turned his attention to slaves.
He planned to tentatively question the seemingly more intelligent slave, implying that if they performed well, they might have a chance to gain their freedom.
But... their answer greatly surprised Tippi.
"Why don't you want to come with me?" Tiberius felt like his worldview had been completely shattered.
[Bro, while joining a mercenary group is a terrible option, are you serious about continuing to be a slave?]
The slave looked up, somewhat bewildered.
"You are a slave, working like cattle and sheep every day at the behest of your master. If you join us, not only will no one dare to order you around, but you will also have mutton soup to drink and bread to eat every day. As long as you are not afraid of death, I promise you a free and unfettered life," Tiberius promised him.
"Besides, you can write, keep accounts, and have experience as a soldier. If you join me, you'll be a ten-man commander at the highest level, or even a centurion in my legion! And as long as we win the war, you'll have tons of gold and silver coins, and your men will be loyal to you. Isn't that great? Why don't you want to?" Tippi asked, full of doubt.
The slave lowered his head, holding a quill pen in his hand, and after a long while, he uttered a low murmur:
"My master treats me very well. I don't feel like a slave. Why should I leave?"
"Besides, life isn't easy for you mercenaries either. Sometimes, your employers don't pay you. What are you supposed to do then? I've seen many mercenaries who, when there's no work, have to work as transport guards, or as dockworkers. Those who aren't doing well even have to carry manure. There's no stable employment environment..."
Tiberius was skeptical of what he said.
How could a master treat a slave well?
And what the hell does "stable employment" even mean?
Is this something a slave should say?
At this moment, an older, well-dressed middle-aged accountant in the shop looked at Tiberius and said earnestly, "I used to be a slave too, growing up in my master's house since I was a child. My master truly treated me like family. Decades ago, Ries passed a law allowing masters to exchange their slave contracts and money at the town hall for their freedom. So my master paid out of his own pocket to make me a free citizen. A few years later, when I met the requirements, my master applied to the town hall again and made me a citizen of Ries—"
At this point, he straightened his chest: "Later, the owner also made me the head of the shop and its accountant, with a decent monthly salary. Since then, I've gotten married, had five sons, several daughters, and even grandchildren. And these two—"
The old man pointed to two other men, dressed even more simply: "They were slaves before, debt slaves, but they were hardworking, eloquent, and good young men. Not long ago, with their master's permission, they paid off their debts and gained their freedom, and now they're working in the shop again. Kid, tell me, we all have our day, why should we go and do that dangerous, high-risk business with you?"
"They will be just like me in the future. As long as they are willing to work hard, put in the effort, and are loyal, good days will come!"
"Moreover, the old master used to often call the young master here to help with chores, and the young master even called me 'teacher'!" The older former slave, now the accountant, said with considerable pride, his hands clasped together. "The master treats us all very well, and the young master is also a clever, kind-hearted master. Here, everyone is important..."
"If I leave, who will help the young master with the accounts? Let those other slick accountants do it? Humph! Those guys are already being merciful by the King of Light by not exchanging bad money for good money and not secretly keeping false accounts to skim profits! If they deceive the young master, how am I supposed to explain this to the old master in the underworld?"
Tiberius couldn't help but blurt out, "You, a former slave, are you even concerned about your master?"
"Why not?" the accountant said indignantly. "When I was sick, I thought I was going to be thrown into a mass grave outside the city. It was my master who treated me and bought me medicine. My wife was also introduced to me by my master. Now I have two children and live a rich and happy life."
"Free men? Does anyone care if you live or die? The dockworkers carrying bags, the rope pullers at sea, the fighters wrestling to their deaths in bars—they're all true free men. Do they have a life like mine? They risk their lives for money!"
He then turned to the young slave and said, “Think it over, boy; are you really going to give up the treatment of a kind master for a vague sense of freedom? I’ve heard…” He glanced at Tiberius and Vito behind him.
"I've heard that those mercenaries, despite their lavish lifestyles at the brothels, if they don't get work for a few months... humph, they still have to find other jobs to earn their meager bread money. You're living a good life now! You have wine, olive oil, rice and barley bread to your heart's content, and your master often gives you cured meat and fresh fish! Why go and live like them, just getting through each day, risking your life to death and fate?"
"You..." Vito was getting a little impatient, and rolled up his sleeves, thinking of teaching him a lesson, but Tiberius stopped Vito.
"Old man, since this brother is unwilling to join us, we will not force him. May you and your master be blessed by the Lord of Light!" Tiberius quickly bowed, said a few auspicious words, and walked out of the market.
"That old bastard, wasn't he just trying to sabotage us?!" Vito said, still somewhat resentful, after walking out. "I should have punched him twice in the nose, let him know why the flowers are so red!"
"Vito, fists won't solve anything," Tiberius told him, but there was a hint of unease in his eyes.
"Let's go find some other people. Since the literate ones don't want to come with me, surely the illiterate ones, the ones who are just laborers, won't refuse to come either?"
However, the result was also embarrassing for Tiberius.
The slaves in the slave market shook their heads vigorously when they heard that Tiberius was recruiting soldiers for his mercenary group.
"Mercenary group... no, no," said an accountant who managed the slaves.
"I am indeed a slave, but a slave who manages slaves. Join a mercenary group? Forget it, I'm afraid of dying."
"Brother, please don't get me into this mess! Here's what I'll do... my master's sugar mill has some new sugar today. I'll offer you a free taste, and you can go find someone else, okay?" A slave in the mill quickly refused, then stuffed a handful of sugar cubes into Tiberius's hand. "Young master, please spare me!"
"roll!"
Tiberius was completely bewildered after being driven away by a slave who used a latrine-stirring stick.
No, what happened to the sharp class conflict? What happened to the evil master and the oppressed slave?
Damn it, what have I been brought here to?
He was initially convinced that these slaves, who had already worked outside and experienced the air of "freedom," would be more aware of the value of freedom and more eager to change their fate than those slaves locked in cages waiting to be sold... But reality slapped him hard in the face.
Vito, with a touch of seasoned veteran wisdom, said, "Kid, now you know? Sometimes, a sure thing like a cornbread bun is more reliable than a meat bun that you might or might not get."
"Indeed, in these guys' eyes, we mercenaries are just a bunch of desperate fugitives, living for the moment, perhaps to be left to rot in the wilderness tomorrow. Although they are slaves, as long as their masters aren't particularly cruel, they at least have a stable meal and a roof over their heads, and don't have to worry about dying every day. Especially those who have been with their masters for a long time, if their masters give them a little something, they'll even defend their masters more than free people! It's ridiculous! Don't they know that one's fate must be in their own hands?" Tiberius said resentfully, then stuffed the candy the slave had given him into his mouth.
"Ugh! This is awful!"