From Iron and Ruin

Salt.

Chapter 37: Salt.

"Seeker Birchwood?"

A balcony hugged the wall that overlooked Adotlan's old gardens. They were being spruced up, but I could imagine that their splendour was once something to be sung about. There was a human-made river in the garden that circled around it with tiny little bridges for crossing. Beyond the inner bailey walls, there was a vast plot for gardening essential plants and medicine, spells and some food but this garden was for little more than walking in.

My hands were braced on the stone wall, but I turned at the familiar voice. "Lord Ainthoch?"

"The lunch was lovely," the lord stepped out, tilting his head back briefly to the people inside. We couldn't be seen from inside. A heavy set of curtains covered the glass, but I could hear the loud babble of their voices. It would be enough to shield ours.

It had been a lunch of fruit and superficial talk. Something to leave the lords with a feel of summer in the old Keep. To show them how we had wrangled this old place to the Legions needs.

"It was," I hummed tiredly.

The lord stood outside with me, his face tipped up to the sun. "My men have rooted out another Gold-Hand mine. I got word of it this morning?"

"Were there many freed?"

Ainthoch looked down at me solemnly. "The Gold-Hands knew we were coming. They ...collapsed the mine onto their workers just as we got there."

"Oh." A stone settled in my stomach. If I glanced back in through the doors, I would have seen Mahon talking with Greydon. How could I separate the Gold-Hands from him? How could I fight Gold-Hand slavers with this rage in my heart, a fire so harsh that it burned me. It made me rash and foolish.

"We have some dwarves coming in to dig them out, but I don't imagine we will find many alive." Ainthoch continued, "I don't want these vermin spreading any faster, but they are clever and quick."

"What are they mining for?" I asked. "Why are these mines so important to the Insurgent?"

"It could be a way for his movement to make money. It could be for the fire-stone. It could be that they are searching for something."

Don't rub your forehead. Not where you can be seen. Unbecoming, someone had told me. I had forgotten who.

The doors to the balcony opened and Mahon stepped outside, carrying a delicate mug of tea. Wordlessly, he passed it to me and flicked a cool gaze in the direction of Lord Ainthoch.

"I am sure a riveting conversation is going on here." His tone was short and his words clipped.

Ainthoch's jaw set. "We were talking about the Gold-Hands."

"Oh?" Subtly, Mahon stiffened. His voice did not change. "What was being said?"

"I got word of a mine." Aintoch leaned against the wall of the balcony. "But I was just about to tell Seeker Birchwood here about my new idea."

"Oh?"

I winced at Mahon's tone.

"I thought that since the Gold-Hands were able to take their captives' memories, why shouldn't we be able to retrieve those memories? Surely, if there were scholars and Magins working on it, we could help these people."

"And what if those memories are not in their best interest." Mahon replied swiftly.

"They should know." Ainthoch returned, but there was a softness to his voice.