Slave Rules
Any slave who discovers that another slave is disloyal and who informs the BossLeader of that Fact will be Rewarded. His Name will not be made Public.
No slave, male or female, is allowed to Talk to his Neighbour during Work.
Everyone must give their Work their Full Attention. Shouting, Singing and Whistling are Strictly Forbidden. Children’s Chatter or Play is not allowed. Offenders will be Beaten.
Laziness is Punishable by Whipping. Repeat Offenders will receive Double the Lashings of the Last Punishment and will be given the most Arduous Tasks to Perform.
Disrespect or Disobedience is Subject to a Heavy Beating.
Fighting, Brawling, or Anything Else that might interfere with the Smooth Running of Work is punishable by Whipping and Imprisonment.
Drunkenness or Inciting Rebellion or Similar is Punishable by Immediate Death.
The iron bell struck once and the startled slaves glanced at each other, then returned to their individual tasks with a new industriousness that would have astounded the visitor had he been able to observe their laboring only a short time earlier.
"This is today's work," Azrazôr said with a nod towards piles of tanned hides stacked waist high on wooden pallets. The smell of leather and sweat hung thick in the air. "In order to make one saddle," he continued as he guided his guest through the frenetic workshop, "seven-hundred and fifty-three separate steps have to be carried out, and the crafter must have a broad knowledge and skill for many things in order to produce a superior quality saddle. Instead of having one or two slaves produce one saddle at a rate of once per month, I have fourscore working on many saddles so that seventy-five saddles are created each week. Each slave is responsible for one step of saddle-making and that is what that slave will do from morning to night, and in the night too, if need be. One slave will cut the leather, another slave will shape it, another will stitch the girth, and another slave will tool the skirt: there is still some skill left in the craft, I suppose."
To the slaves the whole working day seemed to be taken up with the repetition of a sequence of simple movements. When they fell asleep at night they would dream that they were still toiling at their work, so that when sunup arrived they felt they had not rested at all.
The tour of the workshop complete, the two men returned to Azrazôr's nearby residence (one of several scattered throughout the city) and to escape the heat of midday retreated to an inner courtyard, a defiant bit of green within the white marble fastness, where they sat beside a tinkling fountain under gently swaying palms. Glasses of cooling sherbet were served, and the fierce sunlight, tamed by silk cloths of soft shades of pale teal, pink and purple stretched overhead made a dazzling kaleidoscope of colored light fall across their faces. From somewhere beyond the ferns and flowers came the sound of sweet music, and like Azrazôr’s bodyguards, the musicians were concealed by the greenery. Scattered around the courtyard were several exquisitely carved statues and relics - a mix of old and new - carefully placed so as to invite a torrent of questions from the delighted and favored visitor.
“I have estimated the amount of sustenance needed for each slave, for each task, represented as a portion of his total weight. Here are my charts," Azrazôr said, opening a slim leather-bound book and flipping to the page. "Do not feed them more than these amounts, see here? If the slaves are too fat and sassy it gives them ideas. A lean, dedicated workforce is what you need. Keep this information at hand.” Azrazôr closed the book and pushed it across the table. "Consider it a gift," he said with a cordial smile.
"We have no need for these measures," said the proud man from Harad.
"Really? I heard of the slave attack on the wedding feast in Jalikha. I am sure that you are trying your very best to manage."
"They have been punished. Things are well in hand."
"Yes, but for how long? A few heads are chopped off, but at the end of the day, no one is any wiser for it. The ceramics workshop down in Imgur-Enlil has adopted several of my recommendations and now enjoys the advantage of having an excellent team of devoted servants.” Under Azrazôr’s methods, skilled craftsmen were much less likely to suffer punishment, and were therefore much more reconciled to their bondage than their rank-and-file brethren. Azrazôr then spoke of the importance of enforcing clear and consistent rules, and was about to mention his opinion of the most effective means of controlling even the most unbiddable slaves, when outside, along the long portico of tall white columns, faint voices grew louder and more insistent. Two guards burst into the courtyard, dragging a skinny slave who was bleeding from the mouth, and threw him down on the floor.
Azrazôr rose to his feet, and taking up his whip, cried out, "What is the meaning of this disturbance?"
“Lord, he says he has something of great importance to tell you," said the guards.
"Step forward, then.”
The slave did as he was bid, and Azrazôr fell upon him, lashing him until the slave yelled and wept for mercy, then he threw down the whip, and said in a terrible voice, "Speak now of what you wish to tell me, but if your words are false you will be cut to pieces and fed to the dogs."
The trembling slave answered him that he hardly dared to speak, he was so much afraid that he would be killed outright, but fearing more the consequence of provoking his lord’s anger if he did not, declared at once that he was a trusty servant, and told him everything he knew, sparing no detail, no matter how small or seemingly unimportant. He spoke of a small side door facing an alley, out of which deliveries were made to the kitchen, and he had heard one slave say to another that one day they might shove back the bolt of the door and escape, if they could but get the opportunity. "Lord, I beg you, please spare my life, for I have told you all I know of this treachery! I swear by my life it is true,” cried the slave.
At this Azrazôr smiled and commanded his guards to bring the two slaves to him without a moment’s delay. Then he told the groveling man, “You will receive two potatoes. Now go.
“The difficulty of bringing and holding a slave to the truth is not to be easily surmounted,” Azrazor informed his surprised guest after the drudge ran off. “Many of them have a great deal of craftiness, and their speech is unintelligible jabber so they can conceal the meaning of their words. Indeed, these are hard times for us, and they will not become any easier as our forces expand our territories. I know many extraordinary tales of slave treachery to tell you which will make that problem of yours in Jalikha seem a simple everyday affair,” but before he had gotten very far in the telling, the arrival of the two unlucky slaves interrupted him, and Azrazôr spent the rest of the afternoon raining blows upon the wretches’ backs with his whip.
