Spellhand's Remorse #4

The Styrm Isles was a small group of islands roughly five hundred miles off the coast.  If not for bad weather we may have made the trip in just a few days.  We weren't made to work on board.  Madit said he didn't want us getting hurt before we even reached the mines, the ship was small enough for Madit and his two dogs to man easily enough anyway.

         We were given plenty to eat, it was more then any of us had had for as long as we could remember, but our full bellies didn't take any of the pain out of the incessant beatings we took during those five days.  Madit's dogs Harlish and Kaul beat everyone of us black and blue long before we reached the islands.  They laughed as they did it, telling us they were only preparing us for the miserable work that lay ahead.  Jels' face was so puffy and battered that he was hardly recognizable as the butcher's son.  The barmaid – whose name I finally learned was Maglin – was taken below deck several times during our short voyage and returned with fresh bruises each time.  Her bright blue eyes had gone cold and distant.  Looking at them was like looking down a pair of mine shafts that fell away deep into the earth.  I burned the image of her lifeless face and the sounds of her muffled screams into the back of my mind, tucking the memory away in case I needed to remind myself of why the bastards deserved to die before I opened their swollen bellies.



***

The islands were rocky and mostly barren of trees, the mountain that made up the largest of them stood large as gods before us as we left the boat and made our way along a thin path toward the camp.  Madit sent Kaul and Harlish ahead of us to collect more of their slaves to help unload supplies.  The sky to the east was dark, it was going to storm soon.

         A mile along the path we passed a long line of other children making their way down to the boat, led by Kaul with Harlish bringing up the rear.  None of them looked up at us as our groups passed each other although a few gave sideways glances out of the corners of their eyes.  They stunk and their faces were covered in dirt, their clothes hung loose and tattered.

         Another three miles passed and we found ourselves in the midst of a sad looking mining camp.  A dozen or so children milled about, some more peered out from behind torn tent flaps, some crouched near fires.  The wind had been picking up steadily over the last half mile.  The storm came.  The flames of the few burning fires sputtered under the initial drops before the rain came hard and deadened them.  The slavers that stood around the edge of the camp laughed as the kids ran for tents.  I watched a frail looking boy try to head toward the sea but one of the men caught him by the arm and twisted it beyond its breaking point.  The sickening crunch and the boy's scream was enough to bring me close to vomiting.

         My group was pushed toward one of the larger tents and Madit finally unbound our wrists.  The skin was raw and cut from the rough cord but the feeling of having it removed was a great relief, like a bothersome loose tooth finally coming out.  A long stone building sat beyond the tent, near the foot of the mountain.  Its heavy door swung open and a very fat man stepped out, examining us as he approached.

         “You little shits can call me The Baron,” he shouted, his thick Arethen accent made understanding him difficult.  He came to stand in front of me, glaring at my angry expression.  “There are rules on this island.  The first and most important rule is do as your told and do it when your told,” he was still glaring directly at me, his face bare inches away from my own.           “The second rule is keep your mouths shut.  Talk amongst yourselves if you wish, but neither myself nor my men have any interest in what you have to say.”

         He moved away from me then and strode down to the other end of the line.  “There is no doubt in my mind that some of you will have to learn these rules the hard way.  That some of you have attitudes leaning toward the insolent.”

         He nodded to me and Madit swung.  A sharp pain shot through the back of my head and stormed its way forward.  I found myself lying on the rocky ground and looking up at Madit through the tears welling up in my eyes.  I bit back my cursing but The Baron must have noticed the quick opening and closing of my mouth because his lips grew thin on his face and he nodded to Madit.  He kicked me hard in the side.  I curled into a tight ball of pain, gasping for air, the tears flowing out of my eyes in a steady stream.  I was sure I heard the breaking of a rib or two.

         “Toss him in the tent,” The Baron said to Madit, “The rest of you pukes get in there as well.  We don't want anyone getting sick in the rain.”

         The Baron walked away, back to the stone building.  “Get a good nights rest, busy day tomorrow,” Madit laughed in my ear before dragging me into the tent.  The rest of the group from Iel came in and stood over me, they were too afraid and too sad to do anything but look down at me.  Maglin threw one of the few holey blankets around me and sat down.  She traced lines across my face with gentle fingers until I fell asleep.



***



We were woken early and rudely the following day for a slim meal before having our ankles locked in manacles.  They chained us together in lines of eight or so and handed us each a heavy pickax before Madit led us a mile further up the mountain to a large opening in its side.  The rest of The Baron's men followed behind or alongside us, threatening and cursing us most of the way.

         The tunnels were dark, only lit as efficiently as necessary by torchlight, enormous iron carts and bins stood haphazardly throughout the mine – some nearly spilling over with iron, others only holding a thick layer of dirt and dust.  Our groups were scattered and led through different sections and tunnels until being brought to our work sites, the picks from the other groups echoed from overhead as we were led further down into the mountain's rocky bowels.  I couldn't begin to imagine how far and deep the tunnels wound on for.  On our way up the mountainside I had seen several other openings in the rock.  How long had this been going on?

         The space we were to work in was dark and the ceiling sloped gradually over head until it was scarcely a foot away.  Two of The Baron's men watched over our work from several yards back, yelling at us to work faster and with more enthusiasm.  How much enthusiasm and speed they expected from a pack of terrified slaves I don't know, but the amount we put into it was probably  just enough to not catch a beating or get killed down there in the dark.

         The day passed slowly, but thankfully it was mostly uneventful.  When they finally led us back to camp the day was fast approaching evening, but the sun was still warm in the sky.  Walking under that sun was the most pleasant thing any of us could have hoped for after such a grim day and I smiled, careful not to let it be seen.

         Upon returning to camp we were allowed water and another small meal before going back to our tents or sitting near a fire, the only activity of enjoyment we were allowed.  Dinner was eaten quickly, any sense of good manners were set aside as soon as the food was placed in front of us.  When I was finished eating I returned to the tent and sat alone for awhile.  I thought about Garek.  I even wondered about Els despite the fact that he had managed to become less then likable in his last days home.  I raged at thoughts of my mother and eventually I laid down and shut my eyes.

         I woke later that night.  Maglin was sitting next to me watching one of the fires from between the tent flaps as it burned itself out.

         “Did your brother ever send a letter from Omik?” she asked distantly.

         I shook my head, I had forgotten all about Els and Garek's nightly ventures to The Laughing Gate.  “He was a nice boy,” she said, “Do you miss him?”

         “Sometimes.  It already seems like his leaving was a very long time ago,” I said.

         “A lot has happened.”

         I nodded and lay silently for a moment.  I lowered my voice further into a whisper, “We need to find a way out of this.”  I meant to sound confident, but I imagine it only sounded like senseless musing.



***



         The long days stretched into weeks and the sweltering days of mid Selis arrived.  The depths of the iron mines remained relatively cool but a few still died of heat exhaustion.  A few more died by accident and some by the cruel hands of The Baron's men.  The little red haired boy who came over with us from Iel had his fingers crushed by Harlish's heavy cudgel when he stopped working one day.  His sister screamed and cursed him and she was no where to be found the next morning. 

         The Baron had requested Maglin be brought to him on numerous occasions and Madit obliged him, dragging Maglin all the way up to the stone building that housed The Baron and his men.  She wouldn't return with bruises the way she had during our days at sea, but that cold lifeless look in her eyes had returned.

         I finally came to a decision not long after the return of that eerie look in Maglin's eyes and the disappearance of the red haired girl.  I was going to kill The Baron, I didn't know how or when, but I wanted him to feel every bit of pain I could offer before he died.

         Over the next few days, I came up with a plan.  I had initially imagined myself sneaking through camp, past the slavers, and creeping into The Baron's chambers.  It didn't take long for me to throw that idea aside.  I wanted Madit, Harlish, and Kaul dead almost as much as I wanted it for The Baron.  Did I really expect to storm through the low barrack, killing everyone in my path?  No, it would have to start in the mines.           Even now I don't know why it took so many months for my fear to break.  I imagine that, like everyone else, a large part of me had simply given up and any room left over was full to the brim with fear.  A person can only take so many beatings and abuse before their spirit breaks.  But I was done with that island, I was done watching horrible things happen around me while I did nothing, I was done listening to Maglin sob herself to sleep next to me while the slavers yelled at her to shut up.  Something in my mind had clicked, the anger and the insolence that The Baron had Madit beat out of me over my first weeks on the island had returned.  And I was going to make sure everyone knew about it.

         Another week passed before I did anything.  I had intended to at least tell the rest of my group what I had planned, but I was pushed way past my breaking point when Kaul came up behind me and threw me down as I worked.  I never really knew why he did it, its possible he saw that my thoughts were elsewhere and that my motivation was especially lacking that day.  I lay face done in the mine for a moment, teeth clenched.  I could feel my face and ears burning warm with rage as I got to my knees.  I hesitated there for a moment.  He smacked me hard in the back of the head and shouted for me to get up.

         I whirled around, lifting my pick off the ground and slamming it deep into Kaul's belly.  He didn't move at first, no one did.  His eyes were wild with shock as he looked down at the pick embedded into his guts.  The man who had been with him was already running when I pushed Kaul off his feet and pulled the pick out of his belly.  I brought it down again and the heavy head of the pick brought itself easily through his left eye, killing him instantly.  I could hear the other man's yells echoing through the mine.

         It was lucky that Kaul had a set of keys for the manacles.  I moved quickly, freeing my group as they stood there dumbly.  I dropped my pick and took the wide bladed sword that had belonged to Kaul only a short moment ago.  “Move you fools!” I shouted.  They stood for another moment, blinking wide eyed in the dark.  I stared angrily back at them before I took off running.  As I rounded a bend in the tunnel I could hear them running to catch up with me.

         Catching Kaul's mate didn't take very long, he was unfortunate in that he was one of the larger of The Baron's men and his feet didn't carry him as swiftly along the tunnel as he might've wished them too.  We overran him and I brought the sword up and through the center of his back, stopping only to pull the blade free.  Maglin pried the man's sword away from him as he lay face down and dying in the dark tunnel.

         The rest happened fast.  After running through a short series of tunnels we came to the next two groups.  No one had seemed to hear the yelling and surprise was on our side.  When the kids saw us round the bend they wasted little time turning on their overseers, just as I had hoped.  The five men were caught between the four of us and the sixteen they had been watching over.  Maglin ran ahead of me, eager to use her sword.  The men drew their own weapons but had little time to use them before we closed the gap and pushed them back into the picks as the kids brought them down, cutting swift arcs through the air as they descended through flesh.  One of the men had enough time to run his blade through a small boy's chest before Maglin threw herself through the air behind him, bringing her own blade down into the side of his neck.  Red splattered her face as the man fell to his knees, gurgling his own blood.  She pulled her blade free and kicked him down before slamming it through the next man's side as he tried to stumble away, blood poured from several jagged holes in his back.  Maglin pulled the keys from his belt as he fell, clutching his side.  She tossed the key ring to me and I ran through the group and tried to calm them so I could unlock the heavy manacles around their ankles.

         I led the way back to the main tunnel - nineteen boys and girls trailing close behind - to find that Madit and Harlish had heard the chaos echoing through the mine and had promptly disposed of the slaves they had been watching.  Twelve kids lay dead and bloody by the far wall with  Madit and Harlish standing over them, their own swords dripping blood.  We stopped when we came into the tunnel but only long enough to take in the scene before us before charging, yelling angrily as we went.  There was little either of the large men could do as we swarmed around them and closed in.  Madit swung at me but it was poorly timed in his panic and I lunged under and around the attack.  My lunge had brought me to a crouching position in front of Madit and I drove my sword upwards into his face as I stood up.  He screamed and clutched his face as the blood ran out in torrents down his chest.  The end of a blade came shooting out at me through his chest then and when he collapsed I saw Maglin was standing behind him.  She drove her sword further through his chest before pulling it free.  Her eyes were no longer distant and cold, they burned intense and fiery.    Maglin's blood streamed face broke into a smile as she looked over Madit's head at me.

         The other kids had made short work of Harlish, his body lay crumpled and bleeding at their feet.  One picked his sword up and looked in my direction.  I nodded to him and took off again, everyone trailing close behind.  I led them north through a network of tunnels, clipping along as fast as my feet would carry me.

         The fighting had already broken out by the time we arrived.  One of the smaller groups had turned on their guards as soon as they heard our yelling.  The men watching them had already killed two of their number and the last three were engaged in true combat, but they wouldn't have lasted much longer and it was lucky that we arrived when we did.  The horde ran passed and ahead of me, the boys and girl in the front of the pack leaped onto the slaver's backs and toppled them over.  We circled around them kicking and cursing them as we did.  Pickaxes bit deep into their writhing bodies.

         I turned, ready to lead the way up the steep tunnel behind us when another group came storming out of it to join our own.  There were eight of them in all.

         “Is this everyone?”  I asked the older boy in the lead.

         He nodded, “I think it must be.  There's four dead back the way we came.”



***



A short time later there were thirty of us standing in the camp.  Maglin and I had dragged The Baron out of the barrack and brought him kicking and screaming into the center of camp.  The rest of the slaves formed a circle around us and cheered as Maglin and I forced him onto his knees.  I brought the hilt of my sword down into his nose.  It shattered and blood spurted down his chin and into the dirt we had forced him down, more cheers and yells rose out from the crowd.  The Baron was yelling and pleading but I heard none of what he had to say.  Maglin seemed to be ignoring him as well and slid her sword deep through his fat belly as I held him up by his greasy hair.  His insides spilled out onto the ground and I forced him to look down at them before pushing him over. 

         Maglin bent down and peered into his wide, shocked eyes.  “That's how we Overlanders deal with rapists you Arethen pig,” she spat into his face.