7/11/13

"So... Where are you from?" The boy was clearly almost as antsy as Leo was being below deck, and was eager to start a conversation, but once again the old man foiled his plans, shaking his head slowly.

"That's a bad question to ask, boy," he explained.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" the young man threw up his hands in exasperation, angry at how the old man seemed to take offence at everything he did.

"What good does it do you to know?" the old man asked him calmly "None, who cares if somebody lived two streets away from you, who cares if they served in the same regiment? Doesn't help you to find out they were your ally and helps even less to find out they were an enemy. Look at us, all of us, can you tell which side we came from? Can you guess, just by looking, whether Leo there was pointing his arrows for you or at you?"

"Well...I..." the boy's eyes widened, suddenly realising that for the past two years he could have been surrounded by the enemy he so hated and never even realised it.

"All just mainlanders here, boy. Look at you, even knowing any of us might be your so-called enemy has made it worse, would it be any good to you to know who? Put it all behind you boy, that life ain't any good to you any more."

The boy fell silent again, shaken by the old man's words. Leo was surprised he hadn't had this conversation already, this wasn't the first time he'd seen it happen, some young man full of zeal, unable to understand that his own side sold slaves too, that the enemy were all around him and he had no idea who they were underneath the uniforms. They'd try and start something or bring up some topic or other of conversation and one of the older men would take him aside - if they were feeling kind - or stand up and take them down a peg or two. Which side were you on? It didn't even matter, barely mattered then and it didn't matter now. Some of them couldn't deal with it, became desperate to prove that there was some difference between them and their enemies, sometimes it drove them mad. Some of them took a while but came round eventually. Sometimes they pretended to come around, and then snuck around, finding ways to weed out their former enemies and picking fights with them - that kind didn't last long. After a while, almost all of the ex-mainlanders became fiercely protective of their new life. Things were good amongst the Traders, and anybody who threatened that would be dealt with.