Chapter 16: Chapter 15 – New Lodgings

The great Arks, living ships of near-indestructible magical witchwood, made excellent time across the water, their massive bulk pushed and pulled by the gigantic leviathans that made the deep places of the sea their home. Great cheers were raised when the ships made landfall on the western continent.

- On the Cataclysm by an unknown Quassian Scholar circa 103 AC

Half a day of grueling labor had been an exhausting, yet strangely relaxing experience. There in the mine, it was just my pick and I, waging a never-ending war against the rock. It reminded me of the time when I washed dishes, the dirty plates heaped with leftover delectables, more arriving at an increasing pace throughout the night until finally, it was closing time. Muscle memory took over, and the mind was free to think of other things.

The pull of the chain from the line snapped me from my reverie of the past, my hobbled feet almost stumbling as we were led to our next destination. The heavy ore-filled wicker basket’s straps cut painfully into my shoulders as we moved. Passing by a sorting area, we deposited the load as instructed before filing off and continuing our weary march.

We arrived at our final destination, a compound surrounded by tall high walls of smooth quarried stone. A single gate led into the place and we were herded through like tired cattle after a long day of pasture. On our left, as we entered the walled slave pens, flowing open water ran across a rough cut line in the stone floor. It rushed fast like a mountain stream, before disappearing into a wide steel grate running into the ground. We passed elderly slaves of both sexes stooped and hunched, washing clothes and other miscellany, eyes held low as the guards passed. We were corralled into another area and gave up our various tools to some official-looking guards, who counted and wrote on tablets as we handed them in. Another group of cruel-eyed guards took us to another area with slaves in various states of undress, washing in the cool open air with cupped hands along a shallow stream that flowed into a wide iron grate.

“Wash here. Relieve yourself down by the grate,” a guard with a large pole-flail instructed simply, voice bestial in its implied promise of danger. It appeared that my captors had some idea of the importance of hygiene in efficiently maintaining a slave population. Disease could run rampant if at least basic levels of cleanliness were not observed.

Here, even at the bottom rung of society, a pecking order was established. Those who were more belligerent or stronger took a place near the source of the flowing water, while others made do further downstream with the dirtier remnants. My bladder almost painfully swollen, I made to go down to the grate to relieve myself.

After fulfilling my bodily needs I moved back further upstream, to a place with cleaner water, before a huge block of a man shoved me back with a grunt. I had to tilt my neck upwards to first see blonde hair hung in loose locks, dripping water, a chiseled jaw and an aquiline nose set in a face that looked like it was carved from hard stone. Cold blue eyes like twin glaciers dared me to try again.

“I am first to wash,” he drawled in a low voice, almost like a warning growl from a bear. He raised a fist at me before turning away and going down to the water to bathe, cocky, slow and sure in his arrogant stride.

The sudden threat of violence caused a spike of adrenaline and my face flushed with anger. I checked my Status preparing to reply in turn with violence, when a familiar gravelly voice piped from behind me, “Don’t mind him lad. Just wait your turn, we’ll all get there eventually. Guards will beat you twice as hard if they see you fighting here.”

Turning around I recognized the wide frame of Durhit, his eyes dull with exhaustion. I was in no shape to enter combat anyway, and the threat of punishment kept me in check for all but a split second.

I was about to thank him for his sage advice, but something gnawed at me. A seed of violence that was born in the arena. Having faced bullies before, I felt that it was necessary to show at least some form of resistance. It wasn’t about who got to clean themselves first anymore. If I accepted this treatment, I would be accepting it for the rest of my time here. I had had enough of it in my old world, I wouldn’t have it here. Absently, I also noticed that my recent gain in Strength made my Health and Stamina go up by a small increment and that I had gained a modest amount of experience from toil in the mines.

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