Baird Barrett was a slave trader—and a well-connected one at that. Many nobles preferred buying slaves from him, not only because he offered a wide variety but also because his slaves were more reliable than those of other merchants.
Of course, Baird wasn't the type to mistreat his slaves. He understood better than most that to fetch a good price for his merchandise, he had to ensure its quality. So while others used methods like starvation and whipping to "train" their slaves, Baird's slaves were spared the lash as long as they obeyed. They even received a daily bowl of stew made from wild greens and beans. Admittedly, it tasted awful, but at least it kept them alive.
Though his methods earned him scorn from competitors, who accused him of being overly hypocritical and merely currying favor, Baird's reputation was undeniably better than theirs. Many desperate people even preferred selling themselves to him, since the price was the same no matter the buyer—at least life under him was slightly more bearable.
As for what kind of master they might end up with afterward, that was a matter of fate.
But if there was one thing that gave potential sellers pause, it was that Baird rarely accepted serfs—he dealt exclusively with slaves.
Slaves sold for much higher prices than serfs. Most nobles in the Pradi Empire were old aristocracy with plenty of serfs already, rarely needing large numbers more. Serfs were tied to the land—how many you had depended on how much land you owned. Extra serfs were unnecessary. Slaves, on the other hand, were different. Even moderately wealthy commoners might buy one or two to handle household chores, far more cost-effective than hiring servants.
Yet few willingly sold themselves into slavery. Most slaves were either commoners captured by bandits or prisoners of war. With the Pradi Empire enjoying prolonged peace, the latter were scarce, making slaves increasingly rare and driving prices up.
But Baird never lacked slaves. He was half-Pradi, with foreign blood from his mother's side. Her homeland was currently embroiled in a war with several other nations, with victories and defeats on both sides. Nobles who took to the battlefield, along with their attendants and soldiers, were often captured. The nobles would eventually be ransomed by their families, but the common attendants and soldiers weren't so lucky. If their masters refused to pay, they ended up in the slave markets.
Baird had connections in his mother's country, giving him priority access to these slaves. He could even procure some from the opposing nations. Thus, his merchandise never ran out. Whatever the buyer wanted, he could supply it.
A slave trader like Baird, thriving in the capital, had no trouble selling his wares. There was no need for him to laboriously haul a group of slaves to some backwater like Sardinson County.
But Baird was close friends with Claude Gault. The latter, having secured ties with Earl Williams, was now expanding his business abroad and even establishing a trading company, steadily rising to become one of the empire's top merchants.
Merchants chased profit—no one wanted to miss out. Though Baird dealt with slaves, he had other ventures too. He didn't expect to match Claude's success, but he didn't want to fall too far behind either.
Claude, who frequently traveled to Sardinson, knew Earl Williams was perpetually short on manpower. Seeing an opportunity to curry favor, he acted as a mediator, persuading Baird to bring his slaves to Sardinson.
After some hesitation, Baird decided to make the trip.
Since they set out after spring began, Baird chose the sea route to speed things up. Though there was a superstition about women not being allowed on ships, female slaves didn't count—they were cargo. If the voyage went smoothly, all was well. If disaster struck, they'd be the first thrown overboard as sacrifices.
Baird contacted a familiar captain, chartered several ships, and loaded all his slaves and serfs aboard. With hired guards in tow, the group numbered over a thousand, with slaves and serfs making up ninety percent.
Normally, he didn't have so many people on hand. They'd set out in April when voluntary slave sales were rare. But this was also the lean season—not just for commoners, but for some nobles as well. Desperate nobles often sent men disguised as bandits to raid other nobles' villages, seizing grain and selling or killing the villagers.
His current batch of slaves were all imported from abroad, hailing from several different countries. Fortunately, though their nations differed, the languages around the Pradi Empire shared enough similarities for basic communication.
Foreign slaves were particularly favored by nobles. Their slightly different appearances and thick accents left them isolated and helpless within the empire. Even if they escaped, they'd be quickly spotted and recaptured.
The sea route was far faster than land travel. Though shipping costs were high, they saved on the food needed for an overland journey. Baird had no qualms about the expense. In just a few days, they traveled from the royal port in the capital to the docks of Princia.
Arriving in Princia, Baird was startled by its newfound prosperity.
As a slave trader who frequently traveled between nations, Baird had sailed often. In his early days, when his business was smaller, he'd mostly stuck to domestic routes, scouting for slaves and buyers. He'd visited Princia's docks several times before, but in his memory, the place had been anything but lively. Ships were few, the dockside boasted only a single shabby tavern for food, drink, and lodging, and the roads were lined with cheap laborers who'd unload cargo for a pittance.
Now, the ships he'd chartered had to queue just to dock. Over a hundred vessels of various sizes crowded the port, stevedores bustling up and down, unloading goods. The old tavern still stood in its usual spot, but it was no longer the only option—several new inns and eateries had sprung up beside it, with more shops under construction, preparing to open soon.
The former desolation was gone without a trace.
"This place has changed so much," Baird couldn't help muttering as he stood at the ship's bow.
The captain beside him replied matter-of-factly, "Most of these people are headed for Sardinson County. See those? They're merchants bringing goods to trade there. Princia's the closest port to Sardinson, so many prefer this route. Naturally, business has picked up."
Time was money, after all. Compared to the hassles of land travel, the sea route was far more appealing—especially since most merchants operated domestically, sticking close to the coastline. The Mediterranean's rainy season was in winter; other seasons, particularly summer, saw little rainfall, making storms rare and shipwrecks unlikely. Though shipping fees were steep, land travel meant taxes at every lord's territory—entry fees, transit fees—all adding up to costs no cheaper than sea travel. So the sea route offered far better value.
Baird's cargo was human, so he didn't need to hire stevedores. But seeing Princia's unexpected boom, he grew even more eager to reach Sardinson. Abandoning his original plan of having the slaves walk, he decided to rent wagons to speed things up.
He'd also brought minimal rations to save space on the ships. Since grain prices in the capital were surely higher than here, he'd planned to restock in Princia to cut costs.
But upon arrival, he found grain prices here weren't low either—not as steep as the capital's, but still higher than he remembered. Worse, wheat and similar staples were nearly impossible to find.
"Sardinson's bought it all up. Earl Williams is on good terms with our future lord, so any surplus grain gets sold to him. If you want wheat, why not try pasta?"
The grain shop owner recommended pasta and matching meat sauce. Dried pasta kept well—though not as durable as the modern kind, it was better suited for travel.
"Just boil it in salted water, add a spoonful of meat sauce, and you've got a delicious meal."
Sardinson's pasta and meat sauce were all the rage now, even favored by nobles in the capital. They'd even developed various pairings—like mixing pasta with other ingredients and spices or spreading meat sauce on bread. Rumor had it the king himself ate it several times a week. But outside noble circles, these tasty, affordable foods were hard to come by—supplies sent to the capital barely met aristocratic demand.
Baird had tried pasta before—at Claude's place. The latter had even gifted him some. It was indeed delicious, easy enough for even culinary novices to prepare, perfect for home or travel.
And here in Princia, both items were far cheaper than in the capital.
So before the shopkeeper could finish his pitch, Baird bought a sizable stock of pasta and meat sauce. Of course, these were for his consumption—maybe he'd let his trusted aides and guard captain have a taste. The others, especially the slaves, would have to make do with beans and oats.
Luckily, Sardinson didn't buy those, so their prices remained low.
With provisions secured and wagons ready, they set off again without delay.
Originally, Baird had planned to cut through Princia, head northeast to the main road, then follow it to Sardinson County. They'd pass a few small towns along the way—paying some taxes, but what choice did they have?
But the wagon master informed him of another route: east from Princia, through a stretch of woods into Tross, then straight across to Sardinson County.
The distance was about the same, but the road through Slot was newly repaired—just a simple dirt path, rougher than the main road.
"The upside is no transit or entry fees."
Slot? Baird racked his brain but couldn't place the name. The wagon master explained that Slot County now belonged to Earl Williams, hence the waived fees.
Neither Sardinson nor Slot had large towns where entry fees could be levied, but transit fees were another matter. However, compared to those minor charges, Felix valued the trade and commerce merchants brought far more. So any merchant coming to do business was exempt from transit fees. As for entry fees—well, he'd deal with those after building a proper city.
Saving money was always welcome, but Baird worried about safety. "Is the forest route dangerous? Many beasts? Bandits?"
"There used to be plenty, but Earl Williams led a hunting party recently—they even bagged a bear. As for bandits, never heard of any. The place was so poor it barely had people left—where would bandits come from? So the road's safe now. Plenty have taken it lately, and no one's reported trouble."
The wagon master favored this route. Though rougher on the horses than on the main road, it was far safer. Bandit sightings still cropped up along the main road—though whether they were real bandits, well, everyone had their suspicions.
After some thought, Baird accepted the suggestion and chose the Slot route.
The journey proved just as the wagon master described. Aside from the bumpy, dilapidated road—unmaintained for years—there were no beasts or bandits. Safety was indeed high, and they weren't the only ones on the road. They frequently encountered other merchant groups—even if beasts lurked nearby, they wouldn't dare show themselves.
At one point, they spotted a castle nestled in the distant woods. The road forked here—one branch leading to the castle, the other continuing east.
"That's the territory of the former Earl of Slot, now Baron Beck. Rumor has it he offended some powerful noble and got demoted. That's why Slot became lordless—those who could leave did. Only about a thousand serfs remain now."
Counties in Pradi didn't vary much in size, but populations differed. For an entire county—barring the baron's lands—to house only a thousand people was shockingly sparse.
Especially since, as the wagon master added, the place had been without a lord for three years. The king sent tax collectors periodically but otherwise ignored it. Baird could easily imagine how those left behind had lived.
He also felt a pang of regret. Had he known about this place sooner, he might have come to "acquire" some slaves. Though serfs belonged to their lords, with the king paying no attention, a little paperwork listing them as "deceased," and those serfs could've become slaves.
But now the place had an owner—a wealthy, influential earl at that—so the serfs were off-limits.
The wagons spent a day traversing the woods before reaching Slot's coastal fishing village. Baird expected to see a crowd of frail serfs—emaciated, lifeless, barely clinging to existence like walking corpses.
He was wrong. The serfs in the fishing village might not have been robust, but their spirits were high. They worked with vigor, faces bright, eyes alight—nothing like people enduring hardship.
The village had no spare lodging, nor any inns. With increasing merchant traffic, travelers had to camp. But the serfs offered freshly caught fish—a welcome addition to any merchant's provisions.
While purchasing fish from a serf woman, Baird took the chance to ask about their current situation.
"Things are much better now," the woman answered, a boy who looked five but was seven clinging to her side—the only child she had left.
"Since Earl Williams took over Slot, he not only hunted the dangerous beasts but also sent us food. Anyone willing to work for him gets a share. We can even trade fish for grain. No one goes hungry now."
The mother and son were both thin, their clothes ragged, but their energy was unmistakable. Baird learned the family had once numbered five—the couple and three children. The younger son and daughter had starved to death; the husband died hunting, gored by a wild boar. Only she and the eldest boy survived.
A frail, widowed woman with a child to feed would've had a hard time. In the past, Baird might've persuaded her to sell herself and her son into slavery—at least they'd live.
But now, watching the boy slowly lick a small lump of what looked like sugar in the crimson evening light, he held his tongue.
He'd heard plenty about Sardinson on the road—how its lord distributed expensive sugar during population censuses. He'd thought it just a tall tale, but Slot proved it true. The countess believed the serfs were too malnourished and ordered the sugar ration consumed, not sold. So here, Baird saw serfs eating sugar more than once.
Perhaps because the serfs here fared better than expected, the slaves he'd brought seemed to calm slightly, even showing faint hope for life in this remote county.
The next morning, as they set out again, they watched the fishing village's serfs pack salt-cured fish into large clay jars, sealing them before loading them onto wagons bound for Sardinson. There, the fish would be traded for equivalent grain and other goods.
The transporters were serfs too.
Seeing this, Baird was stunned. "They're allowed to leave Slot?" Aside from military conscription, serfs typically couldn't leave their lord's lands—most couldn't afford the steep taxes, and it was how lords prevented escapes. Unlike slaves, serfs bore no brands; given the chance, they might flee successfully.
"They can go to Sardinson," the serf he'd questioned stammered, eyes darting nervously to the slaves in Baird's group as if fearing he'd be seized next. "The earl gave permission. With valid reason, we can leave Slot for Sardinson."
Not all serfs enjoyed this privilege—those of Sardinson Castle, for instance, didn't. But Slot was a special case. With only a thousand serfs left, if they couldn't leave, Felix would have to assign others to transport goods. Short on manpower as it was, he couldn't afford such waste.
So Baird's wagons traveled alongside these serfs. The larger group slowed them slightly as they watched the serfs deliver barrels of salted fish to Melk Town, trade them for grain with the mayor, purchase sundries, and then return to Slot. The lightly cured fish, meanwhile, would be processed in Melk into various canned fish products—fresh-fried, steamed, smoked, or oil-packed—before being sold to merchants in Dingle.
The recipes and methods, naturally, came from that miraculous countess. The cans were glass, specially treated to preserve contents for a full year if unopened. Though fragile, Sardinson's glass jars were thick-walled—heavy, but safe enough with careful handling.
Salt-cured and dried fish were usually the only ways landlocked regions could enjoy seafood—otherwise, they made do with freshwater fish, whose muddy taste couldn't compare to the ocean's bounty. So as long as these canned fish tasted decent, sales were guaranteed.
Baird knew the pasta and meat sauce had also originated with the countess. The capital buzzed with tales of this foreign noblewoman's culinary prowess—how she could whip up delicacies they'd never seen. Curious about her skills, he bought one of each canned variety in Melk to sample.
He was utterly enchanted by these novel seafood flavors. Before leaving Melk, he even placed an order with the mayor, planning to take a batch back to the capital upon his return. Whether sold further inland—like his mother's homeland—or in the capital itself, he had no doubts about their marketability.
The journey continued, with frequent stops. The merchant nearly lost himself in Dingle's dazzling array of goods, but he remembered his purpose in time and pressed on to the castle to seek an audience with Earl Williams.
From Slot to Sardinson, one thing became abundantly clear: the earl was a construction fanatic. Work crews building houses and roads were everywhere, laborers beyond counting. All three towns also posted recruitment notices—mostly for skilled craftsmen, but some sought literate stewards too.
Many of Baird's slaves were former craftsmen or even literate. Even those without specialized skills were strong, able-bodied workers. He was sure they'd fetch a fine price here.
And when the time came, he wouldn't take coin—he'd exchange it all for goods to bring back. The profits would be astronomical!