The Black Robe (The Sword and the Spell) (24 page)

Dozo shrugged and handed over the rope. “Aint no skin off my nose what you do with them.” He turned away not daring to look at Allowyn; this was definitely not turning out as they had planned.”

This wasn’t the first time Allowyn had been down a mine in Essenland. As part of his training he and his brother had been taken down into the silver mines and had been taught how to fight in the low, confined space. They had been taught other useful things as well like how to collapse the roof or blow the place up using firedamp. He had been in other mines too; once when he and Callabris had been commanded to expel a group of brigands that had taken up refuge in a deserted gold mine and once when a small child had fallen down a mine shaft and the only way to reach him had been through a labyrinth of old and crumbling tunnels. Both expeditions had been successful despite the fact that Callabris had refused to take one step into the darkness.

The working mines he had been into had always been worked by paid miners who chose their hard life and who lived above ground when they were not digging. This was something entirely different. The mine itself was well ordered with stout timbers holding up the roof and sides and small carts with well oiled wheels for pulling out the silver ore and the spoil. He supposed with something as valuable as silver you would ensure that the fabric of the mine was well cared for until the last scrap of ore had been extracted. The same did not apply to the slaves who now worked the mine.

Just inside the entrance was the winch which pulled the laden carts out of the mine. Ten slaves were held in a cage so low that they couldn’t stand upright and were straining at poles attached to a central column from which a rope snaked out into the darkness of the tunnel. The guards untied Pedron, took him into the cage and chained him to one of the poles before cracking a whip across his back and setting the winch in motion again. Apart from Pedron, not one of the slaves looked like they would last the night.

As they went further into the mine the ceiling became lower and lower and the air hotter and more stifling. By the time Allowyn reached the first of the diggers he was almost bent double and the sweat had soaked through the ragged shirt he wore. He tried to count the slaves as he passed but it was impossible as there were a number of side tunnels where men were working, digging out the stone in total darkness. The other problem was that he was unsure if some of those he passed were asleep or dead. Either way, the other diggers and the guards took no notice of them.

When he reached the very end of the tunnel he was on his hands and knees and the guards behind him were cursing the heat and the stench of human waste. They made him sit with his back to the wall whilst they untied his hands and replaced the rope with two manacles with short chains attached. One was attached to a spike which had been hammered into the wall and the other was attached to a pick for digging out the ore. The guards sat on their heels and studied their handiwork.

“If yer think ter try and escape by diggin’ that there spike out of the wall don’t bother. Sadrin, the king’s magic worker ‘as spelled it and all yer get fer yer trouble is more pain than yer want.”

“What about food and water?”

The guard shrugged. “If yer dig out enough ore in a night so yer can stand up we’ll think about it.”

They both turned away and crouched low until they were out of sight leaving a small lantern behind them just bright enough to show Allowyn where he was meant to dig. He looked at the spike in the wall and then at the man who was chained to the wall close by. “Is it true what they said about the magic worker and the chains?”

The man, who had dug a small alcove of ore out of the rock wall around him, looked exhausted. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen anyone die like that, but others have told me they are spelled and no one has tried to dig themselves free, or at least not whilst I’ve been in this hole.”

“Have you tried to get out of here?”

The man shook his head. “There’s no way out of here, not even when you are dead. They just leave the bodies to rot.”

That, thought Allowyn, was where the man was wrong. All you needed was a long, thin knife and a bit of patience and you would be free in no time. He undid the rope which held up the loose breaches he had borrowed and pulled them down until he could release the stiletto knife strapped to his thigh. Picking locks was a skill Dozo had taught him and once he had his breaches tied back in place he started working on the manacle on his left wrist, twisting and turning the thin blade and concentrating on the sound that the lock made. He was concentrating so hard that he didn’t hear the guard return.

Dozo sat on one of the stone benches outside the hut with his empty plate by his side and a pot of weak, warm ale in his hand. The oats and dried meat had been tasty enough, but he wouldn’t like to have to eat it day in and day out. As for the ale, it was probably the worst he had ever drunk. Once again he glanced over at the small building where the two women were being held and wondered if they had been given anything to eat or drink. He would have asked but the resident guards were already suspicious of him and to look too concerned about the comfort of a couple of whores would have made things worse.

It wasn’t his idea to bring the women along, in fact he’d been against it, but as there were no other men who could pass as slaves and be useful at the same time, there had been little option but to involve them. He just wished that Stanner hadn’t volunteered; it would have been so much better if she was safely back at the shelter with her two children, so he wouldn’t have to worry about her. At least she was safely locked away from the fighting which was likely to take place very soon.

Above him the first of the stars came out, a distant twinkle in the sky that was still faintly lit in the west by the dying sun. They had agreed timing would be critical if they were going to succeed and had chosen the first stars coming into the sky as their signal for action. The only problem was that the stone hut had no windows and the mine was underground so the only person who could see the night sky was himself. If he moved too soon, Allowyn might not have had the chance to free himself and the other slaves, and if he left it too late, the guards might have decided that it was a good time to try out the whores and he couldn’t let that happen.

A second star had just come into view when the two guards who had taken Allowyn and Pedron into the mine appeared at the entrance. They both hurried across to where the squad leader had his quarters and a few moments later they both reappeared, one carrying a small, black cauldron and the other one an axe. The one with the cauldron disappeared around the back of the building in the direction of the fire pit whilst the other leaned against the building’s wall and began sharpening the axe head with his whetstone. Dozo wasn’t certain what was going on and didn’t want to ask in case it aroused the guard’s suspicions even more, so he sat and stared at the sky and tried to ignore the sound of the blade being sharpened.

When the third star appeared Dozo decided he had to act and was just about to leave his place on the bench when the guard put away his whetstone and strolled over to where he sat. He was one of the smaller guards, the tough, wiry sort, with the ideal build to do nasty work in the confines of a mine tunnel. He stopped in front of Dozo and grinned down at him showing a mouthful of brown and rotting teeth.

“You ‘ave any trouble wiv the slaves yer brought in?”

Dozo shrugged. “No, a bit noisy when I was doing the whore, and they didn’t like it when the others were rescued and they weren’t, but apart from that just the usual complaints.” He hesitated for a moment but had to ask the question. “Why?”

“Caught the big one tryin’ ter escape, put up bit of a fight too but we got ‘im all right. ‘E won’t be doin’ that again.”

Dozo’s heart dropped. He knew this had been a stupid plan. “What will happen to him?”

The guard gave another brown-toothed grin and tested the sharpness of the axe blade with his calloused thumb. “Same as we do wiv all those who tries ter escape. We lop off ‘is foot, dob it wiv pitch an’ put ‘im back to work. See, they don’t need both feet ‘cause they dig on their knees most of the time but wiv one gone they can’t run.” He looked around as the second guard came around the corner carrying the small, smoking cauldron. “’ave ter go, got ter do it whilst the pitch is ‘ot else it don’t stick proper and the buggers bleed ter death.”

He grinned again and set off after his companion whilst Dozo sat and watched them go filled with horror and revulsion at what was going to happen to Allowyn. Waiting until the guards disappeared into the mine, Dozo checked that his sword was free of its scabbard and then went to stand but stopped as the door to the squad leader’s quarters opened. The guard who usually accompanied the squad leader hurried out, crossed to the shed where the women were being held and returned a moment later leading Stanner by her neck rope with her hands still bound. He winked knowingly at Dozo as he passed, pushed Stanner into the squad leader’s quarters and then strolled back to where Dozo sat trying to hide the look of panic on his face.

“Cheer up, mate. Me and the squad leader always ‘ave first pickin’s but when we’ve done with them then the men ‘ave their go. Draw lots, they do, to see who goes first so if yer want some yer’d better get yer name down.” He gave Dozo a broad grin of anticipation, rubbed his hands together and set off for the storage building where the other woman was still being held.

Dozo watched him go inside the store hut and close the door after him, full of indecision. Allowyn was his master and his friend but knew how to look after himself whilst Stanner, he now realised, was more than a friend and was alone, vulnerable and didn’t know how to defend herself. But Allowyn was likely to die whilst Stanner would only wish herself dead. As a healer he had made difficult decisions before which would have lasting effects on those that trusted him, but never before had he needed to choose between two people he really cared about. Whatever he did one of them was going to suffer so he made his decision, eased the sword in its scabbard again and set off.

Under normal circumstances Stanner might have been quite attracted to the squad leader. He was about her own age, tall, well built and with the same dark brown eyes which had attracted her to her own husband. But these weren’t usual circumstances and what the man in front of her was about to do to her made her shake with fear and revulsion. The only man who had ever touched her in that way had been her husband, and he’d lost interest after their third child was born and died on the same day. The thought of a complete stranger doing those things to her brought her close to tears and she wondered what in hellden she was doing there.

The squad leader, dressed only in his breeches, walked around her, appraising her as if she were some prize horse. “Are you a whore?”

Stanner shook her head and tried to control her shaking voice. “No, I’m a married woman with two children.”

“I thought as much. You can always tell by the way whores stand; casual like and wanting it but it makes no difference to me, I’ll take them whatever way they come.” He walked to the desk, picked something up and laid it back down again before turning back to Stanner. “You can make this easy on yourself by taking your clothes off, lying on the bed and opening your legs. If you please me enough I will let you stay. Or you can make it difficult and I will have you anyway and then I will give you to my men for their enjoyment.”

It wasn’t much of a choice and Stanner swallowed hard. She had seen Dozo sitting outside which meant that Allowyn hadn’t made his move yet. If she could delay what was going to happen then perhaps they would come and rescue her and surely it would take longer if she took her own clothes off rather than having them ripped off by this man.

Stanner undid the top button of her blouse to show which option she had chosen. “You won’t hurt me, will you?”

The squad leader gave a harsh laugh, an unpleasant sound. “I can’t guarantee that, it depends on how long you keep me waiting and how well you perform. Sometimes a bit of pain makes these things more exciting. Now get on with it and don’t take too long.”

Stanner removed her clothing as slowly as she dared, straining her ears, listening for some sound which would mean that she was going to be rescued but everything was quiet. As she removed the last of her small clothes the squad leader unlaced his breeches and exposed himself; he was ready even if she wasn’t. She stepped back as far as she could go until she was pressed up against the bed and the man reached behind him, took something from the desk and followed her to the bed. Her heart was beating so hard with fear that she thought he must be able to hear it and would take pity on her, but he didn’t. Instead he suddenly reached out and grabbed her by the throat and waved a long, thin stiletto blade in front of her eyes. She recognised it instantly and knew that rescue wasn’t coming. Her legs turned to water and she would have collapsed if he hadn’t held her up by the throat.

The man stepped closer so that his hardness was pressing against her. “You may not be a whore but you are no more the innocent wife than your friends are what they pretend to be. My men are now teaching them what it is to be a slave and when I have finished with you they will teach you what it is to be a whore.”

He pushed her back onto the bed with the tip of the knife at her throat and forced her legs apart with his knees. Stanner gave a small whimper, closed her eyes tightly and forced herself not to cry out as his free hand roughly explored the place between her thighs. She heard the knife clatter to the floor as he changed position, taking her breast in his calloused hand and squeezing it hard as he leered down at her. He licked his lips in anticipation, gave a loud hiss and then collapsed on top of her. Stanner gasped at the sudden weight, twisted away from where his head had fallen next to hers and opened her eyes to see Ennett smiling grimly down at her.

“Filthy bastard ‘ad me but ‘e’s not going to ‘ave you too.” Ennett pulled the knife free from the back of his neck where she had plunged it allowing a small trickle of blood to run down his shoulder.