A Queen's War
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot.
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(A/N: How about a change in scenery?)
Chapter 2: Labor
Uknown island, western Viking archipelago
"Put ya' back into it!", the creaking of the crude wheels mixed with the groans of the workers pushing the mining carts. "Work faster!", the guards cracked their whips to 'encourage' the tired diggers to swing their picks harder. the watchmen patrolling on the walls surrounding the quarry carried shabby crossbows and bolas. they wore extra layers to keep on duty during the approaching cold, many avoiding the dreaded freezing baths.
"Who said you can take a break?", an old man fell behind the loaded cart he was pushing.
"Grampa!", a young man dropped his water bucket to rush to the old man's side.
"Get up, you bag 'o bones!", a guardsman stomped over to them, shoving the boy aside. "Get back to work!", the guard kicked the wheezing elder over, the grandson crawls back to him.
"No, leave my grampa alone!", the guard grabs the boy's ragged tunic collar, tossing him away from the sprawled out old man.
"You worthless husk, get back to work!", the berserker kicks the elder again and again, another guardsman keeps the scrawny boy from escaping. he raises his bludgeon and beats the senior repeatably. "I'll beat that laziness outta-!" the bludgeon gets snatched from his hand.
"Oi, what's goin' on here?!", the berserker spins around to face the larger foreman. "I warned you before, don't beat the workers too much or you'll kill 'em", the guard holding the boy lets him go.
"Sir, you can't expect them to move faster if you're soft on them", the guardsman counters.
"'Soft on them', is that what you think I am doin'?", the foreman marches up to the smaller man. "We're already behind on our iron quota this month", he glares down on him, "The great chiefess's patience is already thin". he motions to the mine entrance, the carts only half filled with ore, "I'm not soft, I'm smart". the foreman prods the guard with his own bludgeon, "She gave me one warning, report anyone who delays the shipment". "You know what that means?", he asked the berserker but every guard standing nearby shook their heads. "It means you'll get sent to the front, you half-brained fool!", they audibly gulped, "The Demon lord's devils will tear you to bits!". "So, listen good and listen hard", the guards remain silent, "Any of you lot beat a worker too far, you'll find yourselves on the next boat east".
The guard holding the boy lets him go, "Grampa".
"Take him to the quarry healer, boy", the teen looks up to the scowling foreman, "then you'd betta' get back to work!". he nods while shrinking under the foreman's baleful glare.
"Oi, the grubs here!", one of the perimeter guards calls out. the gate opens to let a slender man push the cart inside.
"Ah, sliver-eyes", sergeant guardsman greets the young man, "What's in for today?".
He just shrugs, "C'mon, Bram", the other guards arrived around the food cart. "Ya' kno' the boy's a mute", they shoved the sergeant aside to get their rations.
"Yeah, just because nobody likes you doesn't mean you have to be desperate enough to get friendly with the locals", they laugh at the scowling loner.
"Back to your posts!", the foreman hollers to the group, "And you". the mute looks to the large man, "Get the shrooms back to the cookhouse", he points to the vat next to the mine entrance. a miner pushes a mine cart up the ramp, the small buffer-stop at the end of the elevated track creaks when it stops the cart. he pulls a lever and tips the body of the cart; mushrooms spill out into the vat with bits of the fungus. the mute nods and pushes the food cart over, then shovels the fungus into the bucket built in the lower body of the cart.
The mute pushes the cart to the quarry gates, "Shrooms going out!", the gate guard hollered down to a team manning the penal treadmill. the guards ordered the chained workers to start climbing the everlasting staircase, turning the shaft to power open the quarry's heavy gates. the laden cart departed from the dig towards the occupied village, the heavy gates closed with a loud Thud.
Occupied village
Every ten meters, a berserker warrior stood guard along the walled path. a pair of them passed the mute pushing the cart, leading a 'fresh' group of laborers in the opposite direction. the anti-demon coalition invaded the island several months ago, intending to strip mine the land's resources to fuel the war machine against the Citadel Alliance. the previous Chieftan heard rumors of Dagny's impending expansion towards his island, sending the women and daughters of the village into hiding far way to spare them the horrors. the invaders crushed the defense with ease, killing off a third of the village before bringing the island into submission of the berserkers.
The island became a viable resource outpost for iron to be used in armor, weaponry and crude ship protection. the occupiers cut down the trees surrounding the village, fueling the many iron mills built from many empty homes. they faced difficulty feeding their troops with the famine, yet the deeper mineshafts that they had dug to keep the ore flowing had provided them with a reprieve. the native fungus thrived in the conditions, giving the occupiers a means to make 'edible' rations.
The mute stopped at a perimeter watchtower to let a wagon loaded with ore pass by, "I'm tellin' tha' truth, boss".
Above him, guardsmen argued amongst themselves, "And I'm telling you, you're seeing things!".
"But, Boss".
"But nothing!", the guard captain interrupted the smaller man, "The first-time you watchmen reported seeing something in the trees, the big boss listened". "You know what they found?", the captain paused, "Nothing!".
"But-".
"Then a few weeks later, another watchman reported seeing a shimmer", a laborer walked pass the mute carrying repaired picks and hammers, "The big boss might've been bored or something, so he sent a few men searching the forest". the captain paced the top of the tower, fixing his fur coat. "Guess what they found?", he asked rhetorically, "Nothing again".
"Boss I'm serious!".
"How much have you had?".
"Pardon?".
"You know what I think?", the guard shook his head, "I think you've been dipping a bit much into our mead reserves". "You're off watch duty... get outta my sight!", the captain's growl sent off the frighten guard scurrying off. "And that goes for the rest of ya'!", he shouted at the remaining watchmen, "I don't wanna' hear anymore ghost or shimmering nonsense, understood?!". the captain left without caring about their response, "What are you looking at?", the mute quickly resumed his business.
"I'm telling you the truth, fellas", the mute heard the watchmen within earshot, "there's something out there".
Village Cookhouse
The largest building in the village was the Grubhall, the berserkers repurposed the tribe's meeting hall to churn out rations from the mine's mushrooms and any fish or small game the laborers could find. the mute stopped at the cookhouse's main doors; a berserker approached the waiting mute. behind him, several hunters and gathers huddled together, surrounded by the other guardsmen. their baskets were far from full, some were half-filled with berries or herbs. the hunters each had a rabbit or small boar to show for their efforts.
the tall doors creaked open, berserker watchmen marched out to 'greet' the laborers, "Anything good?".
"Nope, just measly morsels today", huffed the guard. behind the group, more guards arrived, the fishermen pulled a wagon filled with water and fish, "I know that smell!".
"Aye, looks like Thor took pity on me watching these poor souls", the smell of saltwater was carried on the breeze, "We manage to find a decent school, caught the whole bunch!".
"Good on ya'!", the Cookhouse guards moved aside to let the groups enter the huge building. the sounds of fire pits crackling and cutting tools filled the inside of the building, large sized vats bubbled with abnormal stews.
"What did you find?", a large man wearing a chef's hat pulled out a ledger.
"A few rabbits and boar", the forest guard answers.
"How much?"
"Not enough", the man looks passed him, examining the amount the laborers held.
"At least you lot brought in some herbs, not bad", he checked off in his ledger. "Send the meat over there", he directed to his left before pointing right, "The herbs go over to the cooks for now".
The guard leading the fishermen's wagon approached next, "What did you find?".
"Lucky me, the fishermen brought in a whole school!", he looked over the wagon, "Almost as full before the famine!".
"Good... very good", he scribbled in his ledger, "Who knows, the big boss might even reward you with a trip home?".
"Ho-ho, he ain't that merciful", he chuckled.
"True", the large man scribbled in his ledger then motioned to his left, "The butchers are waiting". the mute approached, "Oh, Silver, we've been expecting you", he looked over the cart. "Full as usual ", he scribbled more, "The mushrooms may be bland, but they sure make good filler". he stepped aside, "Straight ahead, we got a few vats waiting". the mute nods and pushes the cart deeper into the building, the heat from the fire pits kept the inside of the Grubhall balmy.
"Oi, you, there!", he looked up to a cook struggling to mix the vat with a large paddle. "Yea, you", he set aside the paddle and tasted the stew, "Meh, good enough". "Get that cart over to the cleaners and bring back the other one", the mute nods and rolls the cart towards where he pointed. a few moments later, he returns with a similar cart, this one filled with cleaned and chopped mushrooms. "Get ready, you lazy gobs", his helpers rose to their feet, watching the young man push the cart under the pulleys.
As soon as the hooks lowered, the mute looped them under the lip of the bucket, "Get back!". the helpers huffed and puffed as they pulled the cart up, one held the rope while the other grabbed and pulled the cart onto the elevated platform beside the vat.
"Bring it over!", the mixer barked while stirring the stew, the helpers moved the cart over to the vat. "Dump it!", they groaned as the tilted the cart, the mass of diced mushrooms cascaded into the stew. some stew sloshed out of the vat, making the fire pit hiss and the flames flicker.
Later
"There you are", the large man placed several rations in the mute's framed backpack, "Consider yourself lucky that you do a good job, Silver". the young man nods, "Off you go!", he sends him away just as the sun touched the horizon.
The mute trudges away from the village, down towards the docks. he walks pass the other former tribes' members now turn laborers, berserker guards ushering them to stow away the days rations. one of the guards, Bram, watches him walk towards the path alongside the foot of the cliffs.
An hour later, Silver manages to cross the treacherous path to a small two-story tucked at the bottom of the cliffs. he hid in an opening of the rock wall, wait and listening for anyone who could have followed. after ten minutes, he breathed out and resumed his trek to the hut.
He closed the door and set down his pack nearby, "Were you followed?".
"No, Uncle, I made sure to follow the rules", the young man spoke.
"Good, rest while you can", the uncle rested in his chair, watching the fire crackle. the man's face showed signs of a hard life, his cheek bones visible against his taut skin. his slender frame with his height made for a strange sight.
"I will", the clothes were thrown aside to reveal a young woman, she sat beside her uncle.
"Koll is getting everything ready", her uncle sipped at cup filled with broth, "He'll drop the crate when his boys cause a disturbance".
"Same place, Uncle?", she drank from her own cup.
"Yes", he set down his empty cup, "Koll says the guards are patrolling close by".
"I got it", she finished her cup and left to get dressed. she fixed her clothes to hide her slender frame, then grabbed her empty pack.
"Please be careful, Tantrum", her uncle rose from his seat, "You're the only family I have left".
"I will", she bid farewell to her uncle and stepped out.
Deep into the dark forest
"There, it's all we manage to sneak out", Tantrum loaded the crate into the small boat.
"We'll make due, miss", the woman thanked her, "The other mothers are doing their best, but we don't know how much longer the girls can cope".
"It's still not safe to sail", she put her pack back on, "You must wait until the freeze get here".
"We'll try", the woman signals the other female to begin rowing out to sea. Tantrum watched the small boat disappear into the fog, knowing that most of her kin are safely hidden. she turned back towards the wood-line, carefully walking to remain quiet. a minute later, a figure stepped out from behind the overgrowth, a crooked grin on his face.
(A/N: There we are, yes, I'm working in more from the book series)