Empire of Ashes

Chapter XLIII - Ironside

I kept my head firmly down as the gates slid open. But even so, I got my first glimpse of the interior. Muddy ground stretched out for perhaps half a league, littered with shacks of all shapes and sizes. Several lines of slaves were being marched across that plain, shuffling along and chained together by their ankles. At the culmination of all that space was the first of the mines — a red-streaked, cracked-open hill. Shaft entrances formed untidy lines along each layer.

"Food, aye?" one of the gate guardsmen asked Ark.

"Aye," Ark agreed. "Nothing nice, mind, so don't get your hopes up."

"No chance of that," he muttered. "Come on, park it by the storehouse."

Ark did as he was told, and the horses plodded dutifully to a long, brick and mortar building without windows. A few women sat outside, scrubbing out pots. They were all shackled, and they wore slave brands openly. Only one spared us a glance, and she looked away again just as quickly. I hoped that meant there was nothing untoward about our appearance.

The guardsman snapped his fingers and pointed at the cart, waited until the women began hauling themselves to their feet, and then turned back to Ark. A pair of hands took a sack of flour from beside me, but I stayed put until I was told to do otherwise. Opposite me, Tem lifted his eyes for just long enough to check on me.

While they unloaded, Ark nodded his head at Tem and me, then said, "I've got to return the property, too. The guvnor lent them to me last time I was here, but honestly, they aren't worth their keep."

"Lent them to you?" the guard echoed, and with a flash of alarm I realised that was not common practice.

"Yeah. It was a favour. My back has gone to shit, so I asked for a lad to do the heavy lifting. This one is a lazy bugger."

"They're all like that," he laughed. "You just need to hit him harder."

"I don't have time to beat work out of him!" Ark exclaimed, shaking his head. "I'm going to hire myself some cheap labour next time I'm in town."

"And the girl?"

I felt eyes on me, sliding from my bare legs to my black eye, and my skin crawled. He took his sweet time appraising me, and I was disproportionately grateful when Ark intervened with a half-smirk. "To keep me warm at night. Don't like her neither, though. She won't stop crying."

Even though I knew him, and I knew it was all horse shit, I couldn't help shuddering at something in that tone. Something predatory and greedy. Ark was a good actor. Too good, almost.

The guardsman snapped his fingers at me, and I could guess what that meant. I clambered out of the cart and walked to him with my neck crooked and my steps wonky. When I got close enough, he caught my wrist. A hand pushed under my chin, forcing my head upwards so he could look at me properly, although I kept my eyes glued to the ground.

"Pretty thing. Don't reckon I'd mind the crying." He released my chin and passed me to a second man, whose fingernails tore bloody furrows into my skin. The pain was slight, but it kept me anchored to my body and kept me acutely aware of what was happening. "But, ah well — there's plenty willing. Pick another if you want. Find yourself a wife if you don't."

And from that single sentence, I learned something which rattled me to my core. There were thousands of girls in this camp, so the soldiers didn't have to beat any of them into their beds. They just let the girls choose between working themselves to death and giving up the last thing they had left to offer.

Would I have ended up like that? Would weeks in those tunnels have killed my defiance? Would I have ended up bedding an enemy to keep myself alive, or would I have died first? I didn't know, and that ... that scared me.