I’d known the bridge was unsafe from the moment I first stepped onto it when making the crossing. In fact, I’d warned the others to tread on the outer edges of the boards and not to put their full weight into the middle. But the lad hadn’t heeded my advice.
Behind me, at my waist, I felt a sudden tug. “Pull,” Ty said in his usual calm tone.
With Ty’s strength added to mine, I scrambled backward, dragging the pair upward and onto the bridge. Thankfully, neither weighed much.
As more slats gave way, I towed the woman back with me. Ty did the same with Farthing. The boards crumbled in rapid succession, but within seconds we made it to solid ground.
Jagged stones covered the mountaintop. Even so, I knelt, bringing the woman down onto my knees. With the weight that had pulled against her arm, her shoulder had been dislocated. Before she could protest, I jerked her joint back into place.
She sucked in a sharp breath, then her eyes fluttered closed, but not before I saw the pain radiating there. As Ty worked to loosen the knot around her wrist, I ran my hand over her arm, checking for broken bones. But other than bloody and chafed skin from rope burn, she hadn’t sustained additional injuries.
A ragged-looking man with graying hair pushed his way to my side. “My lady.” His voice vibrated with distress. “Oh, my lady.”
“She has succumbed to unconsciousness,” I said. “But she will be well enough once she awakens.”
The men who’d restrained me crowded around us now too, their expressions grave as they regarded the woman. The one with the red hair had been the first to meet me when I’d stepped off the bridge, and his greeting had been a fist in my gut along with a sharp knife pressed into my ribs. The blood he’d drawn was still seeping into my tunic. “I’m in charge here,” he’d said in a low tone so the guards couldn’t hear him. “Ye do what I say, and we’ll get along just fine. D’ye hear me?”
I’d heard him and nodded my acquiescence. I had no wish to make enemies my first day in the mine pits. In fact, my philosophy was not to make enemies on any day of the week. If the red-haired man was some sort of leader amongst the slaves, then I was more than agreeable to following his orders and respecting him, so long as he respected me in return.
Now he stared down at the young woman. The anger he’d been spouting at the woman moments ago disappeared. And in its place fear marked his ashen face. “Is she hurt?”
“She had a great deal of strain upon her shoulders and arm.” I lifted her as I stood. “But I don’t detect severe injuries.”
As I settled her against my chest, I couldn’t keep from noticing that she had red hair too. Except hers was a lighter, softer red like the fur of a newborn fawn. Her face, while streaked with dirt, was undeniably beautiful. Long lashes rested against her high-boned cheeks. She had an elegant nose and full, rosy lips.
She was obviously a favorite of the men and for good reason.
“Where shall I take her?” I asked the redhead. “Her arm will need tending and bandaging.”
With a nod, he started across a barren strip of land guarded by several soldiers in a tower positioned next to the bridge. With their bows and arrows at the ready, I guessed they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot at any man who stepped foot onto the bridge. Perhaps they would have shot me if I’d attempted to rescue Farthing. Maybe this man’s efforts at restraining me had been for my protection more than anything.
Now he headed for a cluster of dilapidated thatched huts made of wattle and daub, none of which looked sturdy enough to house livestock much less humans. I followed him, nonetheless, to one of the dwellings. Ducking low, he entered the dark interior.
I hesitated merely a moment before I stepped inside after him. Red coals gleamed in a small center fire pit and gave off enough light for me to see the red-haired man. He knelt next to an old woman lying on a pallet who was covered with a tattered blanket. At his low words, she released a cry of dismay and pushed herself up.
“Lay Lady Gabriella here.” She crawled onto the dirt floor and patted the place she’d vacated.
Lady Gabriella? Why was a noblewoman living as a slave in the Gemstone Mountain mine?
As I lowered her to the pallet, she groaned but remained unconscious. The ragged old man now knelt next to the elderly woman. Their once-elegant garments and gentle mannerisms indicated the couple had been servants in Lady Gabriella’s household.
Although my curiosity was heightened, I exited the hut to find myself face-to-face with the redheaded man. Night had fallen, and I couldn’t make out his expression, but I stiffened in readiness for the rest of my initiation into slavery. What would this man and his minions require of me? Groveling? Extra work? Payment of some kind?
“Thank ye for saving Gabi,” he said gruffly.
I was taken aback by his gratitude and struggled to find a response. What relationship did this man have with the young noblewoman? He clearly cared about her. “I could do nothing less—”
He grabbed my tunic and jerked me up, cutting off my words. “Don’t ye be getting any ideas about her. Stay far away from her, d’ye hear me?” He twisted my tunic around my neck, choking me.
“I hear you,” I managed through my constricted airway.
“If ye touch her again, I won’t be thinking twice about cutting off yer hand.”
This man must have already claimed Lady Gabriella for himself and wanted to make certain I understood it. The thought of a noblewoman in the clutches of a baseborn man like this made me ill. And yet, what could I do about it? I hadn’t come to the mine pits to get involved with the people who languished here. I was here for my Testing, to bear the weight of heavy labor and to persevere under harsh conditions. In so doing, I would prove myself the most worthy to become the next king of Scania.
He choked me for several more seconds, then shoved me back into the hut. I dragged in a gasp of air and watched him stride away with his companions.
If only I could reveal the truth about my identity and purpose in being here. If men like the redheaded leader understood I posed no threat to them and their position, they’d leave me alone to focus on my Testing.
I’d simply have to show them my willingness to cooperate by abstaining from meddling in the affairs of everyone else—particularly abstaining from Lady Gabriella.
My first week working in the mine pits became a blur of exhaustion. I rapidly learned what was expected of the slaves every day—that each man and woman was required to fill a large wooden bucket with chiseled rock as payment for food rations. Failure to produce the daily quota to the overseers in charge of distribution meant hunger.
I also realized soon enough how difficult a task filling one bucket was, much less transporting it to the surface. During my first few days, like the handful of other new slaves, I struggled to chisel a sufficient amount with our dull tools, though I labored nonstop from dawn until dusk.
I was surprised that with all the digging away of the rock we didn’t find any gems. Little by little, I came to understand Warwick’s Gemstone Mountains were nearly barren of the jewels that had once made the country so wealthy. Those slaves who happened to find the rare stones were the lucky ones allowed to exchange the gems for more food or better clothing or an additional blanket.
By the beginning of my second week, I was able to dig faster, completing my quota well ahead of sundown. Rather than returning to the surface once my container was full, as some of the other seasoned workers did, I stayed and assisted Ty and the new slaves.