Borne saw Lehman's concern, which pleased him. At least Lehman's stance was still firmly in the right place; he hadn't let excessive sympathy cloud his judgment.
Borne snapped his fingers lightly. The cabinet beside him opened, and a scroll floated out before landing in Lehman's hand.
"This is a contract? Ten years of employment?"
And what the hell was this Employment Labor Contract written on it?
Lehman immediately felt a headache coming on. Clearly, Borne had come up with another new trick.
"Yes! This is to shut everyone else up."
Borne said disdainfully.
Only when knowledge could spread could civilization develop. Dean Concinnio had pioneered the academy-style model of teaching, replacing the ancient master-apprentice system.
Borne was merely exploiting a loophole now, exchanging ten years of their freedom for knowledge. But these wandering children were only seven or eight years old, for the most part.
Trading ten years of freedom for Borne's protection, while Borne only had to provide food, lodging, and some education—anyone would think they had struck it rich!
By the standards of Earth in Borne's memories, he was absolutely a heartless merchant and slave owner, the kind who would be dragged out, sentenced, and thrown in prison for life.
But here, the terms were absurdly generous. Many desperate drifters either sold themselves to nobles or great houses. The luckier ones became household servants or tenant farmers; the less fortunate sold themselves as slaves—and for life at that!
They basically had no rights or freedom left. Household servants had it slightly better; if they were beaten to death by their masters or died in an accident, there could at least be some compensation. Slaves were miserable—if they died, they simply died.
And the contract was recognized and protected by the Lord of Radiance!
Try running away, and the