Still, I desired to let him see
that traditions aren't all that bad, just as they aren't all that good,
and, as I had still won one point out of two so far, I felt it safe to
move on to my main argument against his humanistic preponderance.
"You are right there, I admit, but tell me, your majesty," I said with a
slow, scoffing voice, meant to show that I had a powerful point to make,
and as if I had to go slow enough for him to comprehend the eloquence of
my speech, "Why, if you are so enlightened and progressive, so
humanitarian and merciful, why do you keep a whole race of people, of
human beings, stranded on the far shore, able to see the goodness of
Daem's plush lands, but unable to visit them? How can you justify the
keeping of people in such conditions when it is in your power to relieve
them?"
He sobered up more than he already was and answered in his most
dignified voice, one calculated to stop opposition by its very graces,
"Their plight is unfortunate, but as they are not my subjects, it is
none of my concern."
"So you knew of them, but did not care. How typical of powerful men.
What are they called?"
"Munams," he answered, "Is what we call them, though people of your time
had a different name for them, Neanderthal, if I am correct.
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