“What’s going on down here?”
The harsh Doskovian words startled him. Lost in thought, Sebastian had not noticed the guard approaching.
“Uh—uh, nothing, sir,” Sebastian stammered.
What was he supposed to do now?
“It doesn’t sound like nothin’,” growled the man in response to another scream. He unrolled his whip. “These tunnels are supposed to be off limits.”
Sebastian stood frozen. There was no way he could stop a guard by himself. Was there no other way to avoid the whip than stand to the side? If Mette was discovered, they would surely take her away. But how could he win? Perhaps if he followed the man they could take him down together in the tunnel. But what if the other guards found out he was gone?
Resigned, Sebastian was about to move out of the way when a young woman’s voice spoke from behind him.
“Lodz? What are you doing here? I thought we were not meeting for another shift at least.”
Sebastian spun around and saw the young woman from the kitchen. Her voice was warm to his ears, but her eyes were not directed at him. In fact, it looked like she was doing her best to purposely not look at him at all. Her face wore a smile, but when Sebastian looked at her eyes he saw them clouded with sadness. She passed him and softly leaned against the guard, looking up at him with those deep brown eyes.
“Niora, is that your little group?” asked the guard with a stern look.
“You know it is. That’s why you came to check, right? To see if I was here? Hoping to get a bit of early action,” Niora mused in a tone that did not fit her innocent look at all.
The guard pushed her away with a look of discontent.
“Don’t think you know me, slave. I merely allow you to please me before you wither away completely like the other filth in here.”
The woman looked over her shoulder with a mix of hurt and panic in her eyes. Sebastian stood stunned, unable to accept what was happening. He had seen it a few times over the years; women in the mine seeking the favor of the guards. It was difficult for him to grasp, especially seeing the way they were still treated. Eventually, they were all cast aside, by then often shunned by the other slaves in the mine. Those women were considered no better than the bullies who worked for the overseer.
But her troubled look was not in reaction to the guard. It was like she was sorry to have Sebastian there. Like she did not want him to see this side of her. She quickly turned back as she put on a smile again.
“Oh, I’m sure I can still please you for a while longer, Lodz. Shall I do my special trick?”
The whole situation had certainly taken an unexpected turn. A sting of jealousy ran through Sebastian’s veins, layered with disgust. Disgust for the woman who sold herself off. Disgusted by himself that he cared. One of Mette’s screams flooded the shaft behind them, strangely deformed as it snaked through the twisting tunnels.
“Fine,” rumbled the soldier as he roughly grabbed Niora’s arm. “Let’s go to the quiet place.”
For the briefest of moments, protests rose inside Sebastian’s throat, but they were gone with one fleeting look from Niora before she and the guard disappeared around the corner.
“Sebastian, are you alright?”
It was Jarod, coming up from the tunnel behind him. Sebastian looked at him and suddenly felt angry.
“No, everything is not alright,” he snarled. “We’re all going to die down here. Every last one of us. The plan failed. Shaun is gone. It’s only a matter of time before they break him and the guards come after us. They’ll just replace us. Like cattle! Every day more and more of us get used, abused and killed. And for what? For fear of some mythical king of stone no one knows? What did we do to deserve this? Why us? We should never have tried to get those scrolls. Don’t you see? Maybe they will let us go, or better yet, just forget about us when they do not need us anymore.”
“Calm down. I know you’re scared, son.”
“I am not your son,” shouted Sebastian. “You were lying to her back there. Her brother is in that guardhouse and will never come back. They’ll take the child away the first moment they see it and there’s nothing we can do about it. Why would you let her think otherwise?”
His voice was shaky. Tears watered his eyes.
“Those brutes deserve all the wrath in this world to come down on them, but it’s not going to happen, is it? They just keep on going, do what they do to us and not care one bit,” he continued. “I just want to go home. Back to Azurna to see my mother and sister. Feel the sun on my skin again and not die in this miserable dark hole in the world.”
Jarod sighed.
“You’re right,” he said calmly. “I lied to her. And perhaps we’re lying to everyone. But nobody needs to hear how bad we have it. They know. We all live it every day. What we need is hope. Hope that there is a way out of this nightmare, no matter how unrealistic it might be.”
Sebastian stared at the ground, avoiding Jarod’s eyes. Somewhere, he knew Jarod was right. But lying to Mette had made him feel betrayed as well. Every day was a struggle to survive; he knew that. It was hard not to lose yourself, to stay in control of the fear. He clenched his fists, but at the same time felt his confidence seep away. Inside, his fear reignited his doubt.
“I know you’re scared,” said Jarod again. “These men have terrorized us. You’ve had to hide many times over the years, work under the threat of a whip and often sleep with one eye open. It is a lot to take as you grow up. You should have been able to go outside, explore, meet girls your age and get into all sorts of trouble. Not this.”
The man rested a hand on Sebastian’s neck and gently squeezed.
“But you survived all this time. And you’re older now. Stronger. Much stronger than you think; strong enough not to give in to the fear,” said Jarod vigorously. “Hope can be a wonderful thing, but it can also leave you vulnerable. It makes you see there’s still something to lose.”
Regret flowed into the space his dissipating anger had left. Was he wrong to look for a way out with the others? Was it all a futile attempt, based on the lie of hope?
But Jarod did not seem to think so. “But you can use that. Fight harder to protect it. Protect your wish to escape this madness. Because it’s hope. It can light the world’s darkest places—and it doesn’t get much darker than here.”
Sebastian bit his lip, uncertain what to say.
“I understand you’re angry with me,” said Jarod. “But it’s all that keeps some of these people going. So I’m sure as hell not telling Mette that Shaun won’t be coming back. She is about to bring a new life into this world. We men are useless there; the women do all the hard work. But what we can do is protect them to the best of our abilities. We can cause distractions, bribe guards, take the heat. That is what men are for. What Shaun was trying to do, and what you and I will try to do, to honor his sacrifi—”
A new sound rose from deep within the mine. The cry of a newborn echoed along the walls.
“Forgive me. They sent me to get a shirt or a blanket and it sounds like I need to hurry,” said Jarod. “Will you join me?”
Sebastian nodded meekly and followed Jarod to the main hall. He felt drained and helplessly conflicted. He wanted to sit down and never get up, but another of the infant’s cries invaded his mind. It was unbearable to listen to, reminding him of the hooded figures coming down the stairs. Perhaps Jarod was right; maybe they could help protect the child. After all, they had protected Marek and himself for the longest time, so maybe they could do it again. And with that thought, the tiniest spark of hope sprang to life amid the emptiness inside. If he could not get out of here, perhaps he could help do just that. Perhaps that would be enough.
Turning a corner, he almost bumped into Jarod’s back.
“What’s wr—”
The sight of Black Death Setra cut his sentence short. Fear flared up inside.
Shaun has failed. They know.
The general’s voice carried through the tu
nnel.
“I’m telling you. It was the cry of a child—a young one.”
Jarod turned and grabbed Sebastian’s shoulders.
“Stall them, in any way possible.”
“Wha—what? No, I can’t—”
But Jarod was already gone, sprinting back toward the women. Sebastian watched him disappear around the bend of the tunnel.
“Where’s that man going?” demanded the high general.
Sebastian turned to see Black Death Setra staring directly at him. He felt his knees weaken. Never had he been the center of this man’s attention; it was a dangerous place to be.
“I—I don’t know,” Sebastian managed to utter. “I think he left his bowl…”
“Go and see where he went,” said the high general to one of his men.
“No,” exclaimed Sebastian, immediately cursing himself when Setra glared at him. “I mean, no s—sir, milord. The deeper tunnel is highly unstable. It was abandoned many days ago in fear of collapse.”
Setra examined him thoroughly.
“What I do is of no concern to a tunnel rat like yourself. Now go back to work. The cry of a child came from here and I intend to find out where it is.”
Sebastian pushed himself to speak out loud.
“Cry, milord? These tunnels hold nothing but the howl of the wind. It can be very drafty.”
The unfortunate timing of the infant’s next cry made Sebastian flinch as the general’s eyes shot complete hatred toward him.
“Go,” commanded Setra to his subordinate.
Sebastian made one final feeble attempt to stop the group from going into the tunnel. He was pushed to the side, his back slamming painfully into the rough tunnel wall.
“You! Stay here with him and make sure he doesn’t go anywhere,” Black Death Setra ordered the soldier closest to Sebastian.
“No,” screamed Sebastian as the group of soldiers increased their pace and moved deeper into the tunnel.
He tried to get up, but the soldier pushed him down again and pulled out his sword. The metal gleamed in the light of the tunnel’s torches. Sebastian dared not move anymore. His body started to shake as he heard shouts and screaming rush toward him from deep within the tunnel.
Chapter 6
Revolt
Sebastian stared at the bend in the tunnel as the sword hovered in front of his nose. A mixture of noises flowed around the corner. The wailing of the child increased with every breath it took. A soldier appeared, carrying the child in his arms. Black Death Setra was not far behind with the rest of his men. After a few moments, Mette came into sight.
“No, please. Don’t take her. I beg you, please.”
The woman had trouble walking. She leaned heavily against the tunnel wall, hands sliding along it as she staggered after the high general and his soldiers. The long shirt she wore was stained with blood. She stumbled and fell, whimpering in pain as she tried to get up again. Jarod and Svetka rushed after her and Sebastian saw Black Death Setra look at them like they were stray dogs following him.
“Mette, stop,” urged Jarod. “They’ll kill you.”
But Mette pushed him away, using Svetka to get back to her feet. The leader of the kitchen girls supported Mette, knowing full well there was nothing they could do to prevent Mette from following her child. Sebastian—still with his back against the wall and a sword in his face—saw the pain on Shaun’s sister’s face as she desperately tried to reclaim her child.
High General Setra strode past, completely ignoring him. Even without the general recognizing his existence his body shivered in unpleasant anticipation. Sebastian heard the man speak as they moved toward the main hall.
“Get it done quickly and add the scroll to the shipment awaiting departure near the guardhouse.”
The soldier’s sword finally disappeared from Sebastian’s face as the man sheathed it and followed the other guards to the main hall. Sebastian let out a sigh that made his lips tremble.
Jarod made another attempt to calm Mette down, but only received hysterical shouting in return. Discouraged from further attempts, the man stood awkwardly until he spotted Sebastian against the wall.
As both women made their way after the soldiers, Jarod pulled Sebastian to his feet. Tears streamed down Sebastian’s cheeks and Jarod pulled him into an embrace. Weakly, Sebastian pushed him away and followed the women to the hall.
“It’s not your fault,” tried Jarod behind him, but he had little else to give.
In the main cavern, the murmur of voices and sounds of chiseling died off as Mette’s cries for help echoed around the hall. But none dared offer help. The high general turned and struck Mette across her face.
“Better keep her quiet, or she’ll get the whip next,” he said as he strode off toward the large tunnel leading to the underground guardhouse.
Svetka pulled Mette close, trying to cover the woman’s face with her embrace. She spoke soothing words, though she must have known nothing could make the situation even remotely bearable.
The entire cavern had fallen silent, except for mother and daughter crying for each other’s touch. Under hundreds of watchful eyes, the soldier crossed the hall and climbed the stairs. The Door of Wails closed behind him with a bang. Still nobody moved, not even when the blue light and chanting oozed from the edges of the door. The only other sounds were Mette’s sobs and the soft-spoken words of Svetka trying to offer some form of support.
Sebastian wandered between the large, black statues waiting to be finished. He stumbled aimlessly, not knowing what to do. Those workers he passed looked at the door halfway up the stairs, where the chanting increased. Sebastian himself glanced at it every few steps, wishing he had the courage to charge up there and ram the door in.
A crackle ran through the air. The blue light intensified around the door—and then it was gone. Silence replaced the cries of the stolen infant. Mette let out a scream of agony and fainted.
Everyone watched the Door of Wails in anticipation and misplaced hope, as if the truth was not a reality until that door opened to make it real. Sebastian shivered when he heard a wooden clunk, but it was not the Door of Wails which had been opened. Marek and Old Tom appeared at the top of the stairs. Had the day gone differently, Sebastian might have been happy to see his friend. But now he could merely watch as the world kept moving around him, Marek included. The boy, who had spotted Sebastian among the unfinished ghol’ms, now ran down the steps like he was heading to a party. Their accompanying guard locked the palace door and followed Old Tom down the stairs. Then the unexpected happened.
Marek took the last jump toward the landing just as the Door of Wails swung open. The soldier emerged, alone, scroll in hand. Taken off balance by the sudden obstacle in his path, Marek crashed into the soldier’s back just as he took his first step down.
With a shout of surprise, the soldier missed the step. He swung his arms wildly to keep his balance as Marek instinctively reached out to grab the man’s hand. The soldier tumbled down the stairs. It looked like one of the street shows Sebastian had seen when he was younger; would have been comical had he not heard the soldier’s neck snap.
In front of the Door of Wails, Marek stood frozen, arm stretched out and a scroll firmly clenched within his hand.
“I—I didn’t mean to,” he stammered.
“Marek, the scroll! Throw me the scroll!”
The boy startled as Old Tom grasped his shoulder and spun him around. The old man snatched the scroll from Marek’s hand and threw it down toward the hall. Behind them, the guard came running down the stairs shouting in Doskovian. Old Tom pushed Marek through the open door, though the boy anxiously tried to resist. Just as the guard reached it, the door closed behind them and locked. After trying to pull it open, the man immediately pulled out his sword and started hacking away at the thick wood.
Sebastian, whose eyes had followed the scroll tumbling down toward the main hall floor, saw Jarod race forward and scoop it up. Then the scroll was flying his way,
Jarod’s shouting following it through the air.
“Svetka! Give it to Svetka! She knows the words!” screamed Jarod.
The silent hall now burst back to life. Murmurs turned into shouts. Several guards started moving to put a halt to anyone who dared disobey orders, but few had seen what happened apart from the unfortunate fall. None had noticed the scroll. For the moment, the soldiers were disorganized, simply hitting random slaves to get them back to work.
Sebastian stared at the scroll in his hands, his mind firing up to process what was happening. Dark red smudges covered the parchment, each side designed to have a strong iron point. Jarod’s voice finally penetrated the misty cloud of confusion.
“Seb! Throw the damn scroll to Svetka!”
Sebastian turned around and saw that Svetka had left Mette in the care of another woman, and now ran toward him. He offered the scroll as she ran past him—straight for one of the near-finished ghol’ms.
Adrenaline began to pump through Sebastian’s veins. Jarod shouted at him to move while the soldier on the stairs kept banging on the Door of Wails. From all sides, additional guards came running from the tunnels to see what all the noise was about.
The cloud of sorrow and indecisiveness in Sebastian’s head lifted as his heart sped up. And he was not alone. All around him, slaves started to move, spurred on by Jarod’s words and the others who had conspired with them. He saw a man shake a woman who stood frozen, fear no doubt pinning her feet to the ground. Another slave picked up a sizable rock and hit a guard over the head with it. Immediately, another guard rushed toward him and pulled his sword, but five other slaves now threw rocks at that man as well.
“Weapons! Get the weapons,” thundered Jarod’s voice toward the smith’s furnace.
One of the smiths lashed out with his hammer, hitting a guard straight in the face. He kept hitting him until little more than a puddle of goo remained. He got up and kicked over a box filled with newly made chisels. As they rattled across the floor, multiple knives revealed themselves from the bottom of the box. Without hesitation, several other slaves grabbed knives and charged straight at the guards emerging from the tunnels. Those who were too late for the knives made do with the chisels and hammers—weapons themselves in the right hands.
Revolt of Blood and Stone Page 5