“Do not strike me again,” I hissed.
Dropping his arm, he backed away. He must have seen in my eyes that his life was in grave danger. Had he struck me again, I would have killed me with my chain about his throat.
I turned to the men.
“We are men, not animals,” I said. “You are men. From now on, we will not feed as animals. We will distribute the food in an orderly fashion.”
Greyson regarded me.
“Greyson,” I said, “will distribute the food.”
I heard the clang of metal behind me as the angry overseer slammed the door and threw the bolt. Both had exited the cell during my address. Greyson grinned. Stepping forward, he began distributing the food to the hungry slaves in equal portions.
As Greyson and I ate our humble rations together, he looked at me. “They may flood the mines for this,” he said.
“Hopefully, not until they have secured another day’s quota of ore from us,” I said. “I am trusting in their greed.”
I stood and again addressed the men. “I, for one, have tired of this place,” I told them. “We won a minor victory, but chances are good the administrator will flood the mines in retaliation. Is it better to die like vermin, and to drown in the darkness, or to die like men?”
“Die like men!” Greyson shouted.
“Yes, like men!” another shouted.
A loud murmuring began among the slaves.
I raised my hands for silence. “When the overseers take us to the mines to work, pass the word man to man. Today we revolt. Inform those of the other cells that today we will seize freedom or die. After enough time has passed to alert every man, I will shout the command, ‘Feed.’ Then, every man can join the revolt, or not, as he sees best.”
“We are with you!” someone shouted.
Everyone had finished the meal and were sitting on the floor when two different overseers came to get us from the cell. “To work,” they said when they had opened the iron door.
We followed them to the lift. Six men at a time, they hauled us up to the mine tunnels above. There, other overseers issued us our hand picks and ore bags. The slaves from the other cells arrived. Soon we were all picking ore from the walls of the tunnel. Furtively, those of my cell passed the word to the others. There was a sensation of tension in the air. I could not know how many slaves would join me in the revolt. Even if I perished, it would be preferable to staying deep beneath the surface for even one more day. I tried to follow the whispers along the neighboring chains to judge when the time was right to shout the command.
All the overseers were outside our tunnel in an area where the ceiling was higher. There they did not have to move about on hands and knees. The men of my chain were nearest that chamber. I whispered to Jumah, then to the man on my left.
“We must move nearer to the opening of the tunnel occupied by the overseers,” I said. “We will strike first.” Nodding, they passed the word to those next to them. Then we moved but continued to chip at the wall with our picks. Sullenly, the overseer I had resisted that morning peered into our tunnel. In his eyes, I saw that he was angry but also fearful. I smiled at him, then shouted, “Feed!”
Those of my chain scrambled into the tunnel, facing eight overseers. They raised their whips and lashed us, but we were impervious to the pain. Their whips were no match for our picks. I buried the point of mine in the surly overseer’s forehead, he who had dared to torment us. We quickly subdued and killed seven of the overseers in a matter of seconds. One fled from us, screaming, and escaped. The other slaves were pressing us from behind, trying to get out of their tunnel into the one we stood stooped inside.
“We must move quickly,” I shouted. “The one who escaped will alert the other overseers and the administrator!”
At the head of his chain, Greyson was beside me.
“Do you have any idea what we will face at the surface?” I asked.
“There are no warriors on the surface,” Greyson said. “Once they deliver slaves to the mines, they return to their barracks in Nisa.”
“Are there weapons here for the overseers?” I said.
“I’ve never seen an overseer with anything but a whip,” he said. “But the administrator may have weapons to distribute to them for a time like this.”
I nodded. “Let’s get to the stairway!” I shouted.
We streamed through the tunnels, climbing ever upward toward the rickety wooden staircase that led to the surface. Before we were halfway to it, water sloshed about our feet.
“They have shut off the pumps!” someone shouted. “The mines are flooding!”
We moved as quickly as possible. But in some passageways, the low ceilings forced us to move on hands and knees. Even when we could stand, we had to crouch. And the shackles about our ankles slowed us down.
By the time we reached the stairway, the water was already waist-deep. I heard a screeching racket from above as I led the men of my chain up the stairs.
“Someone up there is sawing,” Jumah said. “I was once a carpenter. I recognize the sound. They are attempting to drop the stairway before we reach the surface.”
Jumah’s words only added to our desperation to get to the surface. Looking down, I saw men packed the stairway behind us. Men on the floor of the cavern below us, waiting to start the climb, were standing in chest-deep water. I hadn’t understood how fast the water would rise once they had shut down the pumps. Would I succeed only in getting us all drowned? The stairway violently lurched to one side. We were only about three-quarters of the way to the surface.
“They have cut one side of the stairway loose from the platform,” Jumah said balefully. It could collapse at any minute.
The sawing sounds continued. With all the weight on the stairway, I feared Jumah was right. Once whoever was feverishly sawing above us weakened the remaining stair support, a collapse would hurl us all to the flooded cavern below.
Suddenly, a sizeable chunk of rock hurtled down on us from above. It struck the head of the man behind Jumah. He immediately collapsed, either dead or unconscious. Jumah and the slave behind the injured man grabbed his arms and struggled to pull him up the stairs. The man was dead-weight and slowed us considerably. But with us all shackled together, there was no other option.
It was getting lighter, and I knew we were near the surface. More stones hurtled down from above, but we expected them now. We moved and dodged them, and most of us avoided them. Men below us on the tunnel floor, waiting for their chance to mount the stairs, screamed at us to hurry. About twenty feet above, I could see an overseer I recognized. He was on his knees on the platform, desperately sawing the remaining stairway support. I aimed and threw my pick at him like a hand ax with all my strength.
The point of the pick buried itself in the overseer’s upper right arm. It wasn’t a severe wound. But he had not expected the sharpened point of a miner’s pick to pierce his flesh. As a result, it had stunned him, and he lost his grip on the saw. I heard a splash when the saw hit the water far below. The overseer stood and stumbled away, out of my view. The stairway creaked and felt even more unstable. I heard wood groaning and cracking. Only a dozen steps were remaining to the surface.
25
The Battle Joined
When we crested and set our feet upon the platform, we found ourselves opposed by a dozen overseers armed with the spears of Vulvarian warriors. Udo, the Administrator of the Mines, stood behind them armed with a rakir.
“Forward!” Udo cried. “Press them back down the stairway.”
But the overseers stood as if rooted to the spot. They held spears, but they were not warriors. I saw the abject fear in their eyes. Courage failed them. Everywhere they turned, more chains of haggard, violent men boiled up from the stairway onto the platform behind my chain to confront them. They had expected that their fellow overseer would have successfully dropped the stairway to save them from the peril they now faced.
Except for me, all of us held the picks used to chip
ore from the walls of the shafts below. I saw the overseer I had wounded with my thrown pick cowering behind the others with blood on his right arm. When we advanced, the overseers stepped back even though Udo was striking them with the flat of his sword blade to urge them to attack us. While most were simply holding their spears level hoping the menace of the sharpened points would dissuade us, one overseer decided to cast his. As the spear point flew toward me, I used the agility and footwork I’d learned while training with the katana. Leaning away and turning, I struck the wooden spear shaft behind the bladed tip and deflected it harmlessly away. It hit the stone wall of the narrow room and feel to the ground. Swiftly, I snatched up the spear and now faced the overseers with a formidable weapon that I had trained to use in battle. With the shrill cries of the Thivan warriors, I attacked. I had skewered two men and struck another in the face with the butt of the spear before they could react.
It was a day like no other in the history of the mines of Nisa. The overseers fell back. Had not Udo been behind them, menacing them with his short sword, they would have turned and fled.
We swept over them like the flow of lava from a volcano. Armed with a single spear and miner’s picks, we made quick work of the remaining spearman. The men of the chains showed no mercy to their former oppressors.
Seeing his poor defense collapse before him and our murderous intent, Udo thought to save himself. He was a big man and not likely fleet of foot. Yet I expected he felt confident he could outrun men chained together with shackles about their ankles. But he failed to consider one thing. Setting my feet, I cast my spear with all my might. Before Udo had taken three steps, the spear took him between the shoulder blades. He sank to his knees. His rakir clattered to the stone floor. Then he toppled forward onto his face. The victory was ours, but more remained for us to do.
“Greyson,” I said. “Take the men of your chain and find some rope. We must shore up the stairway, so it doesn’t collapse before we get all the men below to the surface.”
Greyson nodded. “Men of my chain follow me,” he cried. They hurried ahead as best they could. The men of my chain had limited movement because of the man killed by the large stone. I turned to the leader of another chain.
“Take your chain and look for tools we might use to remove the shackles,” I said.
The men rushed away to search. Greyson’s men soon returned with coils of heavy rope. Quickly they set so work securing the damaged stairway to prevent it from collapsing. Men still filled it from the top down to about the halfway point. They looked down nervously at the water rising from below that still threatened some of them. Soon, able men had made the necessary repairs, and the line of chained men continued up and onto the platform. Looking about, it astonished me we had only suffered the one man dead. Only a handful of others had minor injuries. Yet we had killed all of those who had operated the mine.
Men had found hammers, chisels, and a small anvil. They set the anvil on the stone floor. One by one, we filed past it. A man with experience as a metalsmith struck the shackles off our wrists and ankles with expert blows. Those of us free of our bonds stumbled out into the bright sunlight. Once again, the sun hurt my eyes. After many days deep beneath the planet’s surface, I blinked again and again, to lessen the torture of the glare.
Exhausted, I sat down on a massive windlass that the mine operators had used to pull the loaded ore carts up the track from the mines below to the surface. Around me, cheering joyful men were embracing and slapping each other on the back in celebration. It was the lightning-fast, spontaneous brave actions of the men that gave them renewed respect for themselves. Their chains were struck off, and for the moment, we were all brothers. We were men of the chain, men of the mines of Nisa. I felt both happy and proud.
Greyson came over, climbed up, and sat down beside me.
“You did it, brother,” he said. “You freed us.”
“No,” I said. “These men freed themselves.”
“But it was you who led us,” Greyson corrected. “No one would have dared to revolt had you not urged us. Many of us were with Cooke. Once the Thivans and their allies depart, with you leading us, we can free other slaves and retake Nisa. We will give you an alias so that no one discovers you are Tom Gray. Once we control the city again, they will name you Dabar. You will have your pick of desirable females.”
“No, brother,” I said. “I have business elsewhere. Be it so that the men wish to overthrow Nisa again, let them choose another to lead them, and to become Dabar.”
“Where will you go?” Greyson asked.
“I have business with the Goddess Queens at Mount Volz,” I said.
Greyson’s eyes widened. His jaw dropped. “Surely you jest, brother,” he said. “Such would be a journey to certain death.”
I laughed. “As a wise warrior friend once told me, all death is certain,” I said.
“Then I will accompany you,” Greyson said resolutely. “If need be, I will die by your side.”
“No, brother,” I said. “This a journey I must make alone. Now, we must gather the men and plan their escape. We should presume that Udo dispatched a courier to the city to report the uprising here. In less than an hour, the warriors of Nisa may take to the march. And, in perhaps one hour more, they might arrive here. The men must soon scatter to avoid capture.”
“Yes, well said,” Greyson said.
Together we gathered the men. Greyson and I stood before them atop the windlass. I congratulated them on their courage and tenacity. Then I explained what they must do. Then Greyson addressed them. Every man who wished to give his opinion spoke. In a short time, they reached a consensus. Greyson had been with Cooke in his lair in the foothills of the Eimgas Mountains, east of Nisa, before the slave rebellion came into full bloom. The men agreed to follow Greyson there and to make him their leader should they relaunch the rebellion. As escapees from the justice of Nisa, none of them could return to their home cities. As they were now outlaws under the laws of Vulvar, they believed it best to stick together, to seek safety in numbers. I agreed with the plan, even though it was not my concern.
Less than one hour after we had overthrown Udo and his underlings, Greyson embraced me and then led the men east toward the mountains. We had wished each other well. I then left the mines on the first leg of my solo journey. I intended first to return to Haela’s farm to retrieve my bow and sword. Then I would strike north toward Mount Volz.
My heart felt heavy as a stone because I could do nothing for Emer. I would never know what became of her. But it would have been impossible for me to enter Nisa undetected, much less rescue Emer from the dungeon below the Hall of Government alone. I was powerless to help her. The pain I felt over the loss of my beloved Idril was still sharp. Yet I admitted to myself that I had felt a powerful attraction for Emer too.
I had taken a spear from the mine, along with Udo’s short sword. In the hovel at the mine where Udo had lived, I found other useful things. I had found a scabbard and sword belt for the rakir and a rusty warrior’s helmet. Though I lacked a shield, I was still formidably armed until I recovered my weapons from the barn at the farm.
Cautiously but swiftly, I moved toward Haela’s home. The warriors of Thiva and their allies were still in the countryside around Nisa, seeking the remaining pockets of rebel slaves. I had to avoid them at all costs. I had no desire to suffer capture and have the Anax of Nisa return me to the vile copper mines I’d escaped.
26
Friendships Renewed
Dusk had fallen by the time I reached the farm. Twice patrols of Thivan warriors searching for rebel bands delayed me. They forced me each time to hide in overgrown grain fields. On one occasion, I continued my journey after the patrol had passed by me. The other time, they had accosted four males I presumed were former insurgents. While the warriors were busily shackling the men, I took to my heels and put distance between us.
As I approached the barn, I saw lights flickering inside the farmhouse and saw smoke bil
lowing from the chimney. Stealthily, I crept into the barn. I breathed easier when I saw a familiar gardo parked inside. Swiftly I checked the corrals beside the barn and discovered a team of veovarks there. It seemed Haela had returned home from Thiva. Back inside the barn, I found my bow and katana where I had concealed them beneath some bags of grain. I took them with me and crept to the front door of the house.
After leaning the spear against the outside wall, with the katana ready in case someone other than Haela occupied the house, I pounded on the door. Soon I heard footsteps approaching the door.
“What do you want?” a woman called out from within the house. I recognized Haela’s voice.
“Haela, it’s your good friend, Tobias Hart,” I replied. “I have come to share your supper.”
Haela threw open the door. “Tobias Hart!” she squealed, grabbing me in a bear hug that nearly crushed my ribs. “We heard they sent you to mines of Nisa!”
“And so they did,” I laughed after she released me. “But I found I disliked the work and the food and lodgings were unsatisfactory. I chose to depart.”
Haela laughed and hugged me again. “Come in,” she said. “I have a savory stew I just took off the fire and brown bread fresh from the oven.”
I grabbed the spear and followed her inside. When we walked into the kitchen, a woman sat at the table. She stood, turned to me, and smiled.
“Hail, commander,” said Emer.
Stunned, I dropped the spear. Then I strode across the floor and took her in my arms.
“By the Goddess Queens, I can’t believe it!” I cried. I let Emer go and then, with my hands on her shoulders, held her at arm’s length. “What happened after they took me from the jail cell?”
I heard Haela laughing as she busied herself with putting the food on the table.
“The guards took me before the Anax the same morning they pulled you from our cell,” Emer said. “The Anax told me she had dropped the charges against me, but she dismissed me from the warriors for helping you. Then she happily told me she had sentenced you to the mines of Nisa. I was frantic with worry! How did you escape?”
Rebels of Vulvar (Vulvarian Saga Book 2) Page 15
