“But he’ll be bigger, stronger, and not half so smug as this one,” said Leaky, “so I’ll take ours over him any day.”

Chapter 10: Lord of Walls

CHAPTER 10

Lord of Walls

“So am I a Finder of Lost Things again here?” asked Rigg.

“Not in Gathuurifold, no.” Ram Odin chuckled. “No, for this wallfold you’re going to have to go back to the rich-young-man pose you carried off so well in O when you were just starting out.”

“I ended up in prison,” said Rigg.

“Because they believed you were a royal, not because they didn’t believe you were rich and educated.”

“But I’m not educated in Gathuurifold. I won’t know anything about their history or customs.”

“Gathuurifold is as large as any other wallfold. You can be from one part of it and know nothing about the other parts. Science you’ll know—more of it than they do—and ­mathematics. As for economics . . .” and here Ram Odin chuckled again, “they’ll have a bit to teach you, though I hope you don’t come away a true believer.”

“So I’m a rich young man.”

“No, you act like a rich young man. What you are, in terms they’ll understand, is this. You are my owner. And you, in turn, are directly the property of the Lord of Walls.”

“Property!” Rigg was appalled. “They have slavery here? That was done away with in Ramfold a thousand years ago. Long before the Sessamoto came out of the northwest.”

“Slavery was abolished fifteen separate times in the past eleven thousand years in Ramfold, though admittedly I’m rather proud of Ramfold that this last time it was the whole wallfold that got rid of it, and it hasn’t been reinvented yet. Though the People’s Revolutionary Council was getting close.”

“You’re saying slavery is one of those universals.”

“When you have wars, what do you do with the prisoners?” asked Ram Odin. “You can kill them all. Bloody work, that, and it encourages your enemies to fight to the death. You can send them all back home again as soon as the war is over, but in the meantime you have to feed them, and after they go home they’re a ready-made, fully-trained army.”

“I’m getting your point.”

“You can sacrifice them to your gods, which makes a difference only if they believe in the same gods. Or you can put them to work as forced labor, to earn their keep. Or, let’s see . . . keep them in prison camps, not working but having to be fed, until they die of old age. Which is the cruelest course?”

“You’ve made your point. So Gathuurifold is unusually warlike? So they’re constantly generating new slaves?”