Traitors of the Realm - Kingmaker Book 1

Kaelan - The Mines of Echalon Chapter 3

 The sight of it made him sick. Men scattered across the sea, their limbs torn from fish bites and their bodies swollen. Kaelan noticed one of the corpses exploding as it floated near a rock. It erupted with sounds he'd never heard before. The entrails scattered amongst the stones as the waves beat against it. Blood was everywhere. Kaelan bowed his head in silence. The men beside him followed. The young Slave Keeper stood far behind, covering his nose from the ghastly smell. He was dressed in green; the House of Kremwald sigil rested on his breastplate, an eagle flapping its wings.

"I pity them," said Arkron, raising his head. He was as pale as the snow that sat on the peak of the mountains surrounding him. A large brown cloak covered him, holes were common. "Those lucky bastards. Why do the Gods favor them and not us?"

"I don't know," Kaelan confessed, raising his head to meet Arkron. A faded letter was branded on his forehead; the letter "R." "We deserve our punishment, maybe those men didn't." He looked forward once again. The smell of decaying flesh wasn't much different from the smell in the mines. It became a regular occurrence where a slave would fall dead inside one of the shafts inside the tunnel. The smell would linger around for months until the men became immune.

"Put a cloak on!" the young Slave Keeper shouted, his gaze falling on Kaelan.

"What happened to your cloak?" asked Arkron, staring at his friend's bare skin. An Olive complexion showed, with eyes of amber to match. The scars on his back and sides were of different shapes, lengths and depth. It looked more like a work of art. The Slave Keepers took great pride in their work, calling themselves artists and the slaves their canvases.

"That fucker stole it," Kaelan cursed, looking backward as the soldier laughed to himself.

"Don't mind him," Arkron told him, taking the cloak from off his back.

"What about you?" Kaelan asked.

"I'll be fine," he said, placing the heavy cloak on Kaelan's back. "I'm used to the cold, but you southerners need warmth."

"We should get to work," said Kaelan, ordering the men.

One by one, they dragged the unbranded slaves from the sea. This time it was different, Kaelan thought. Maybe the Gods did have a part to play concerning the wrecked vessel that brought them here. Some of these slaves weren't like him or the men around him. These slaves were made up of dozens of dead boys. A few looked like nine, maybe ten. The rest were teenagers. None around them had reached adulthood. Why were they sent to the mines? The question sat in his mind. They managed to retrieve sixty dead, the others hadn't reached the Black Shore yet.

"Your father-in-law has lost his mind," Arkron whispered, as he helped Kaelan carry a swollen corpse with no face, toward the bottom of the hill.

"He's desperate," Kaelan whispered back. "We haven't found what he wants in all the years that we've been here."

"But boys?" Arkron said, dejected.

"He probably thinks they'll work harder, being that young," Kaelan guessed.

"No one survives Echalon this young," added one of the Slave Keepers as he approached them. He was a man past his fifties. Short, grey hair sat on his head. He had a full beard with red hanging at the tips. He was decent in height, but his rounded gut made him appear stumpy. He was red. No sun to blame. There wasn't much of that this far north. He had a nose twice the normal size and hands that were thick as bricks. The sigil of House Solace sat boldly at the centre of his armour; a burning sun shining upon an abstract dragon. He was all in red. "They came here to die."

"Lord Nestor," said Arkron, taking a slight bow. Kaelan stood his ground, ignoring the young Keeper to the far left as he made his way toward them.

"Bow, slave," spoke the young man, his hands reaching for the folded whip that sat against his waist. Bright yellow hair showed from his head, a wisp of hair was hanging from his chin. He grabbed Kaelan by his thick, dark hair, nearing just above his shoulders. He pulled Kaelan backward, his head bending unnaturally.