Karl, a member of the gang, stood with a cold smirk. Before him stood 'The Master,' a massive man dressed in luxurious robes, idly flipping a gold coin between his fingers.
"Twenty gold for a pack of young pups?" The Master mused.
"Children are much better; you can raise them to be obedient, and they are far cheaper than adult slaves. 2 piece of gold might be the deal of a lifetime," Karl tried to persuade him.
"Hmm..." The Master let out a short laugh. "I’ll take them all for 1 gold." He paused, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Fine, it’s a deal," Karl said, raising his hands in cold indifference. He exchanged the cage key for a heavy pouch of coins.
"Four girls and six boys. Excellent. Get them in the wagon!"
The wagon jolted as it rolled over snow-covered rocks, and the cage rattled with it. Inside, everyone was weeping silently, except for Bertholdt, Alison, and Roy.
"What will happen to us?" Mia asked. Her voice was a mere whisper, swallowed by the cold air inside the cage. Everyone looked at her, except for Alison, who remained focused on the floor of the wagon.
Bertholdt pressed his lips together and frowned. He looked at Mia. "We’ll work like mules. But if we stand together, we’ll be a team of mules that helps each other survive." His calm voice echoed inside the cart.
"You’re right. If we work together..." Ivan nodded, and the others—except for Alison and Roy—nodded in quick agreement.
"Are you two in?" Bertholdt directed the question at Roy and Alison.
Roy gave a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I'm with you."
Alison neither answered nor moved. The other children exchanged looks that needed no words to understand.
The wagon lurched, then came to a halt. The children peered out. Before them stood a cold, imposing stone manor. Beside it, the mouth of a cave gaped like an endless pit, while a dilapidated hut sank into the frozen mud nearby.
"Hank!" The Master bellowed in his resonant voice.
A massive, disheveled man appeared, reeking of foul smoke. His features were broad, devoid of any hint of laughter. Hank unlocked the cage and dragged the children out, tossing them one by one onto the ground. The children stood, taking in their grim surroundings.
Hank kicked Bertholdt, who was standing at the front. "Line up before the Master! You filthy scum!" Hank’s voice shook the area.
The children scrambled into a line, panting. Bertholdt rose from the mud and joined them with steady steps.
"Hey, be careful! I just bought them," the Master shouted at Hank.
The sun was on the verge of setting. The Master began laying down the laws in a calm, chilling voice:
"For the boys: You will work in the mine within the cave. You must gather five kilograms (11 lbs) of coal before you finish work." The Master paused, raising a finger. "You get one meal: before work. If you fail to collect five kilos, you will not receive the next morning’s meal. You will sleep hungry, and you will wake up hungry."
"It is strictly forbidden to share food with those who failed their quota. Otherwise, both will receive ten lashes, and the meal will be canceled for everyone. If anyone incites an escape or any other act, the guard will decide the punishment." He peered at them with sharp, predatory eyes.
The Master paced back and forth in front of the children.
"As for the girls: You wake up before dawn to prepare the food. After finishing breakfast, you go to the mine. Your required quota is only two kilograms (4.5 lbs). Your deadline is from after breakfast until an hour before sunset, at which time you will prepare dinner and clean the manor. If any girl fails, she must clean the entire manor alone on her knees until dawn, in addition to having her meal canceled and receiving lashes. The same penalties apply if any of you share food with the punished."
He stopped in front of Alison. He leaned in; his heavy perfume filled the air. Alison coughed. The Master lifted her chin with a single finger.
"You... I don't like you in particular. So if you slip up," he stared into her eyes, "I will burn you alive."
Alison didn't respond. She stared into the void, and it seemed to the Master that she was staring him down. He gave a half-smile and withdrew his finger, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hand. "From today on, you call me 'Master'."
A bitter taste spread in Alison’s throat.
"Hank, take them to join the others. They start work tomorrow." The Master pointed toward the hut.
"Move!" Hank hissed, herding them toward the shack. He kicked Alison, sending her face-first into the dirt. She quickly stood back up, wiping the snow and mud from her face.
Inside the hut were two rooms: one for females, one for males. "Boys to the right, girls to the left!" Hank ordered.
The scene in both rooms was identical: people with protruding bones, the sound of growling stomachs filling the air, insects crawling on the floor. The stench of bodies that hadn't bathed in weeks—smells of urine and waste—emanated from a hole in the corner. Lice and fleas could be seen moving under tattered blankets strewn on the floor, and rot had taken a large share of the wooden walls.
The girls were pushed into the room. Alison entered immediately, walking past everyone, and sat in a huddle on the floor. When she rested her head on her knees, the smell of burnt flesh clinging to her clothes filled her nostrils. The salt from her tears dampened her shirt.
Sasha, Mia, and Hannah looked at the scene with pale faces. The oldest girl among them stood up and approached the newcomers.
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"Hello, my name is Anna," her voice was raspy. "I heard the Master tell you the rules, but he forgot one: He who tries to escape is lashed to death, and the rest are punished with a hundred lashes. So please, don't try to run." She looked at them with a slight frown and lifeless eyes. "Go ahead and pick a corner for yourselves."
Mia’s stomach let out a loud growl. Anna looked at her. "It seems you’re hungry. Unfortunately, we had dinner early today, but I have some bread you can take." She pulled out a piece of bread that had begun to mold from under her blanket. She offered a bit to Sasha, Mia, and Hannah.
"Here," she extended her hand to Alison. Alison looked at the bread. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." Anna was surprised but didn't want to ask more.
Everyone sat and ate the bread. A cockroach scurried across the center of the room. Anna caught it and popped it into her mouth, keeping her hand over her lips. The sound of its shell crunching filled the hut. The newcomers (except Alison) stared at her in horror.
"It’s free protein. Besides, you’ll soon become like me," Anna said, lying down and closing her eyes.
After a while, Hank entered and gave them blankets. He threw a blanket forcefully at Alison, striking her side. "Sleep well. Sweet dreams," Hank waved his rough hand and left.
_________________________________
In the men's room, the crowd was larger and the space tighter. No one raised their head to look at the newcomers. Bertholdt, Ivan, Roy, and the rest exchanged glances before dispersing to sit on the floor in different corners. Hank brought them blankets as well, but no one offered them food. In the battle between hunger and exhaustion, sleep won, and everyone fell into a deep slumber.
Alison jolted awake, gasping, sweat trickling down her face. She looked at her palms, then around her, sitting there staring at the ceiling, waiting for something to happen.
Before any light appeared on the horizon, Hank’s voice pierced the rooms. The girls were pushed toward the manor. The stone exterior was still drenched in night frost. The grand halls were teeming with stains and filth. The girls lined up under the supervision of an elderly woman named Bertha. Bertha was small in stature but had a powerful presence; her eyes were soft and strangely comforting. She wore a thick cloth apron.
Bertha leaned toward Mia. "What is your name?"
"My name is Mia," Mia replied in a faint voice.
Bertha stroked Mia’s curly hair. "You must finish this room first." Her voice was calm as she pointed to the dining hall, which was in a catastrophic state.
The girls began cleaning and scrubbing. The work was hard on small hands, and Mia was trembling. After finishing the manor, the girls headed to the kitchen to prepare food. One of them dropped carrot slices onto the stone floor and froze in place. Bertha leaned down slowly; she didn't raise her voice or punish her. She helped gather the slices, then washed them in a large basin of water. "We waste nothing," she said, returning to the soup. Alison worked without a word, sufficing with silence and observing Bertha.
When the kitchen work ended, the slaves gathered in the dining hall. Barley bread, chickpeas, and a pale yellow watery soup—this was what the slaves ate every day. Alison stared at her bowl, her stomach churning within her. She closed her eyes and gulped the soup in one go, holding her mouth as she swallowed. The sound of her gulping echoed in the quiet hall. Two armed men stood silent at the entrance, swords hanging at their waists.
Everyone ate. Only fifteen minutes. Bertholdt, whose stomach was hollow, devoured his food and choked on a piece of bread until someone thrashed his back. Hank arrived. The meal ended with the shout of one of the guards.
"To the cave! Move!"
They were led toward the mouth of the cave. Pickaxes and collection bags were lined up on the muddy ground waiting for them. The women’s bags could hold 2 kg, while the men’s held 5 kg. Hank led them inside, except for Mia, who struggled to drag her pickaxe until Sasha helped her carry it. The two armed men followed, one carrying a small oil lamp.
The darkness was thick. The small lamp was only enough to light a small circle of muddy feet. The smell of raw coal and stagnant dampness filled their lungs. Everyone began digging. The sharp sound of metal hitting hard rock, punctuated by coughing, was the melody that filled the mine. Bertholdt and Ivan took turns striking the rock with the heavy pickaxe, dripping with sweat.
After a few minutes, the newcomers—except for Alison and Bertholdt—stopped, their hands red from the friction of the pickaxes. Mia hadn't even moved hers. Alison struck the crevices with precision, while Bertholdt struck the same spot repeatedly. By the end of the shift, the newcomers' hands were blistered. All the men met their 5 kg quota. Sasha and Hannah’s bags combined weighed 3 kg, while Mia’s bag was empty.
Alison’s bag was full, and beside it, more than 2 kg of coal lay scattered on the ground. She stood in the dust and darkness, her breath heavy. She stared at the coal she had gathered. She watched the guards; the first was napping, while the second was busy picking his nose, looking outside the mine, unfocused. When the second guard stepped out for fresh air, Alison grabbed her bag, went to Mia’s, and filled it. Then she returned to the scattered coal, refilled her own bag, and tossed the remainder beside Sasha and Hannah before returning to work.
The old slaves froze in their places, watching her in silence. Mia cheered and jumped to hug Alison. Instinctively, Alison kicked her away. Mia tumbled to the ground and began to cry. Alison’s eyes widened; she froze, her mouth opening to speak, but the words caught on her tongue. Tears began to stream from her eyes. She grabbed her bag, handed it over, and hurried to the manor to finish her work. Sasha leaned down and hugged Mia until she calmed. Roy watched the whole scene.
Everyone turned in their quotas. The girls went to the manor to prepare food, while the men went to clean the animal pens. Sasha kept glaring at Alison, even spitting on her, but Alison continued working in silence.
A guard entered the kitchen and grabbed Alison by the neck. He dragged her to a room with chains hanging from the ceiling. He shackled her, pulled out a whip, and locked the door behind him. The guard stood, running the whip through his rough hands; the sound of leather rubbing against leather filled the room.
"Sharing is forbidden, as you know," he said calmly.
He raised his hand and brought the whip down. The first crack sounded like an explosion in the silence. Alison didn't feel the pain immediately; instead, she felt a sudden heat as if a piece of boiling iron had been branded onto her back. With the second strike, her tattered shirt began to stick to her split skin. The strikes continued in a monotonous rhythm, punctuated by the guard’s laughter as he watched Alison’s body contract. With every impact, the chains rattled with a sharp clang. Alison closed her eyes tight, feeling drops of sweat mix with her blood and crawl slowly down her spine, causing unbearable stings.
She didn't scream. She bit her lower lip so hard her teeth sank in, feeling a salty metallic taste fill her mouth. The guard stopped after ten lashes. He was panting slightly. He leaned in, the stench of his foul tobacco wrapping around her face. "Try that again, and you'll get double what you took today."
He suddenly unlocked the shackles. Alison collapsed, her face hitting the dirt floor. She felt dust entering her open wounds. The guard kicked her in the side with his heavy boot. "Now get to work, you sow," he laughed.
Alison lay on the ground for minutes, subjected to more kicks. She crawled, then leaned against the rusty wall to stand. Every breath she took made the taut skin of her back crack further. She left the room, leaving dark red spots on the floor with every step. She fell halfway, tears streaming down her face. The guard grabbed her arms, dragged her, and threw her at the kitchen door before leaving.
Everyone stared. No one said a word. Bertha brought a chair and helped Alison sit. Then she left the kitchen and returned with a box. She took out a cloth and a blue liquid, soaking the cloth. Bertha wiped Alison’s wounds. Alison’s body arched, her jaw clenched, and her hands gripped her thighs; her face was red, and her eyes nearly bulged. Bertha placed bandages over the wounds and wrapped them. She disappeared again for a moment, returning with an old linen shirt, faded but soft to the touch.
Alison looked at the shirt, then into Bertha’s eyes, whispering a nearly inaudible "Thank you." Bertha placed a piece of bread filled with chickpeas, wrapped in cloth, into Alison’s hand. "Hide it in your clothes." Alison hid the bread without moving her back. Bertha let Alison sleep in the chair and woke her when it was time for dinner.
The guards dragged her to the dining hall with the others. She sat in the corner, watching the spoons rise and fall and the jaws chewing food, the sound pressing against her ears.