Chapter 16: Breaking Ground

Aven had almost grown comfortable with the daily routine when a different pair of guards than usual grabbed him out of his cell that morning. They didn’t bring Logash with them, nor did they bring him out the usual path east and northward. Instead, after leaving the keep gate, they shoved Aven west.

“I’m with the hunters,” Aven protested.

“Not today,” the woman guard said. The same one who had first brought him to Hellfrost, in fact. One who had recommended Yvris kill Aven instead of keep a voidtouched around. She’d picked up a new scar on her cheek since then. Despite those past sentiments, she didn’t look at him with anything more than the guards’ usual disdain for prisoners. “Captain’s orders. You’re in the quarries today.”

Katrin had talked about the quarry work on the hunts. Less obviously dangerous than hunting voidspawn, but still hard, backbreaking work. Why the change?

Aven saw a few familiar faces in the crowd of prisoners gathering for the quarries. Ouron. One of the canin vis brothers, the younger one whose vis power had to do with improved hearing. Another human prisoner who’d just joined their formation in the hunts last week - not a vis, just a strong, stubborn man. Strong enough that he’d held the front line alongside Ko’jan and Logash. Speaking of, there was no sign of either the zhagra ogre or the red-furred ursin beastkin. Nor of Katrin or Gretchen or most of the other hunters.

He sidled up to Ouron, whispering quietly, “Any ideas what this is about?”

The veteran glanced around, face scowling, “In the legions, if one company was considered a problem, they’d break ‘em up and scatter ‘em into separate companies.”

“So we’re a problem now?” Aven asked. Clearly, by refusing to die at the proper rate, he’d thrown off some delicate balance in the administration of Hellfrost.

Rather than being chained in pairs, the quarry workers were grouped in lines seven or eight deep, the whole line on a single chain. Twelve chain teams in total. None of the familiar faces were part of Aven’s chain team. In fact, it seemed the guards had gone through great effort to keep all the former hunters separate. Ouron’s divide-and-conquer hypothesis was looking more and more likely.

That also left the numbers of the hunters depleted, and their tactics weakened. Would they be able to survive without Aven’s Battle Mind to call out the attacks? Aven had little time to worry about them before a guard shoved a chisel and short hammer into his hands and the chain team set off to the quarry.

The Keep rested against an entire mountain of blackstone, but on the southern slope, the mountain flattened out into a broad expanse where it was easier to mine the blackstone and transport back to town. The mining was open face, wide pits carved into the rock face. A dozen in total, all around the central road at various stages of destruction. Some of the pits were still fairly shallow, the rock only carved back a few paces, but the largest were more akin to ravines.

“How does this work?” Aven asked the prisoner in front. “Do we just...hack away at the rocks?”

The prisoner, a thick chested ogorok ogre, gave him a scornful glance, “We want slabs of the stone, not just rubble, newblood. All you need to do is shut up an pull your weight.”

The prisoner in front of him elbowed the ogre and hissed, “He’s not a newblood. He’s one of the hunters. The voidtouched.”

The ogre went rigid, green face turning near white as he stared at Aven.

Aven gave a wry grin, “Name’s Aven. Didn’t know I had a reputation.”

No one spoke to him directly after that. The prisoner at the head of the chain (whom the others only called “Boss”) seemed to be the leader of sorts, barking out orders to the others. When they got to their assigned pit, Aven saw that rather than a solid rock face, there were already large sections split apart, ice between the cracks.

“Chisel away the frost,” the team leader ordered, giving Aven only a brief glance.

With any attempts at conversation denied, Aven sighed and set to work, the ogre on one side and an older woman with one hand on the other. To Aven’s chagrin, he was the slowest of the bunch. His chisel seemed to simply skitter off the frost more often than not. Where hunting voidspawn was long periods of quiet marching followed by brief periods of brutal violence, this was pure constant labor, the sun shining down while they hammered away at the ice and stone. Any time Aven’s chisel missed frost and hit stone, the impact sent a jarring ache through his wrist. The blackstone was harder than the chisel could crack, the impact entirely transferring into his hand.

Aven missed the chisel with his hammer and instead landed a solid impact on his thumb.

“Shit, fuck,” he grabbed the thumb, “fucking paragons’ cocks.”

The one-handed woman at his right chuckled, “You’ll get used to that one before long.” She nudged him and jerked her head to the side, “Shad here hit his hand three times on his first day.”

The ogre grunted and gave the woman a nasty look, “You’d smash your thumb twice a day if you fucking had it still.”

“And I still work faster’n you with one hand,” she stabbed the chisel in one-handed with enough force she didn’t even need to steady it before switching to her hammer and striking it hard.

The team leader called out, “That’s enough. Cart’s here! Right team lift!”

That apparently included Aven. He and three others of the team got their arms under the massive slab and lift with all their might. Enough to lift the section by a few inches. The others threaded ropes under it, tying them off.

“Right team down, left team haul!”

Aven and the others dropped the stone. The rest of the team took the ropes, hauling the stone towards the road where a mule-drawn cart was waiting. They managed to get the slab on.

Then onto the next one.

“Godsfuck,” Aven hit his hand with the hammer again.

The old woman jabbed his side with a sharp elbow, clearly delighting in his misery, “Harder than huntin’ voidspawn?”

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“Less frustrating,” Aven muttered, sucking a bit on his throbbing finger, “out there, I just kill anything that tries to hurt me. I’m not the one hurting myself.”

“You don’t look like a voidspawn killer,” the ogre to his left grunted, eyeing him up. “You look weak.”

“And you look like a diseased onion,” Aven replied. “Maybe we can surprise each other.”

The ogre stared incredulously. The old woman cackled.

“Ko’jan said you saved his life,” the ogre followed up with a grunt.

“Ah, so you know him, then,” Aven said.

“Aye,” the ogre glared. “Shithead owes six rations from cards.”

“Then I’ll save him again next time I get the chance,” Aven said. “Wouldn’t want him to run out on his debts.”

The ogre grunted but resumed chiseling thoughtfully.

When they hauled the next slab, a man further down the line spoke up, “It true you killed a speartail?”

Aven glanced down at him. Young looking man, perhaps in his early 20s, with bright blue eyes, pale skin, and dark hair, “Oh, I can’t take credit for either. I contributed, though.”

The man’s eyes went wide, “A speartail destroyed my uncle’s farm. Slaughtered him and his whole family. Tore half their livestock to bits.”

“They’re nasty bastards,” Aven agreed.

“And you faced one and lived?” the ogre sneered. “Horseshit.”

Aven sighed. Doubt wasn’t harmful. The ogre was entitled to his skepticism. Putting in the effort to correct that pride would only be petty.

Aven was feeling rather petty.

“Step back,” Aven dropped his chisel and waved everyone away.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Boss demanded. “Get back to work!”

“Step back,” Aven repeated. He stretched out his arm, and the hand of the void reached out to grasp the lip of the rock.

Everyone in the line jerked away from the rock as the black hand grasped it. Aven set his teeth and yanked. Cracks sounded, but the slab remained set in the frost. Another yank. More racks.

At the third pull, the whole slab ripped away, actually lifting a couple inches off the ground before the voidhand released their hold and dropped the slab, the whole thing landing with a heavy crunch.

The prisoners stared at the slab that would have taken them another ten or twenty minutes to chisel away from the ice.

Boss stared at Aven, “Why the fuck weren’t you doing that before?”

Aven laughed. Gratitude, it seemed, was not something the prisoners of Hellfrost appreciated. He could work with that.

“Right,” Aven bowed. “My hand is at your service. You’re the experts here. Tell me how I can be of use.”

* * *

The guards stared at the overfull cart, “Already?”

Aven suppressed a smug grin. Apparently, the standard was a full cart by the end of the day per chain team. They’d filled theirs before midday. They weren’t the only ones. Ouron’s team filled their cart not ten minutes later, his Earth Attunement perfectly suited for the task of quarrying.

“And we waste all the vis getting slaughtered out in the wastes,” a guard muttered, shaking her head. “We’ll have to get more carts.”

“A suggestion, ma’am,” Aven cut in.

The guard looked at him incredulously but didn’t stop him.

“Or a question, really,” Aven gave a disarming smile. “Are you guards paid more if the quota for blackstone is exceeded?”

A nearby ogre guard checking the cart snorted, “Hells no. As if that tight fisted shit of a priest would pay extra for anything-” He fell silent at the woman’s glare.

The woman returned her gave to Aven, “Your point?”

“It seems to me,” Aven said. “That sending for more carts would create more work for both yourselves and the prisoners. Whereas if we just happened to fulfil our quota early, both ourselves and yourselves could relax until evening.”

He let the suggestion hang in the air, “So long as the work is complete, what reason do you have to get a new cart? Why go through the extra work?”

The woman’s eyebrows knitted. “Fine then.” She jerked her head, “Your team can help chain 4. Once all the teams are done...” she shrugged. “Well, if we complete our quota, I doubt Yvris will give a shit how we spend our time.”

Aven bowed, “Thank you, madame. It’s a pleasure to work under such reasonable folk.”

The guard snorted and waved him away. Aven went with the rest of his chain to assist the others in fulfilling their own quota. By the time all twelve carts were filled, the sun was still hours shy of its peak.

The woman guard gathered all the prisoners and guards alike, “Alright. You shits finished early. If you don’t cause trouble, we can all keep this among ourselves. That clear?”

Murmurs of assent followed. The wonders of what even enemies could accomplish with a mutually beneficial arrangement. Most of the prisoners settled into circles among their chain teams, dice or cards in abundance.

“How long you in Hellfrost for?” the ogre Shad asked as they settled into a game of dice.

Betting seemed to be an expectation, but Aven had nothing of value to offer. Food seemed to be the only currency, so Aven bet a quarter of the hard travel biscuit that came with the field lunch. And promptly lost it.

“Until I die I suppose,” Aven shrugged.

“Lifer,” the old one-handed woman nodded. “’Course that’s most of us in practice. Ten years, and I only know six who actually paid off their debts. Three of ‘em wound up settling here anyway. From slave to tenant farmer. Guess scrabbling in the fields is better than the quarries.”

“I’ll pay it off,” Shad grumbled. “Two more years is all.”

“And then what?” the one-handed woman laughed. “You don’t got a copper to your name. How d’you plan to get out of Hellfrost after?”

“I’ll find a way,” Shad said, though his eyes were cast down.

“What if there are other ways out?” Aven said casually, rolling again. Another bust. Another quarter ration gone. The others laughed. Apparently, they found people terrible at dice quite endearing.

“Ooh, you’re one of those dreamers, eh?” the old woman bared her teeth. “You know, five years back, there was an escape. Thirty prisoners.”

“Really?” Aven hadn’t heard the story before. “They got away?”

She cackled again, “Oh, they got out of Hellfrost. It’s what happened after. Frostfangs got half of ‘em. Dragged ‘em back and strung ‘em up to be tortured and executed. Another dozen were found starved and frozen. The last three? Never even found their corpses. My bet’s the voidspawn got ‘em.” She winked, “You want to talk about ways out? I’ve seen ‘em all! And the best way out is getting shat out by a frostfang.” She threw her dice and grinned as the other players all groaned. She’d cleaned them all out, roaring with laughter as she collected.

“And what if Yvris wasn’t in charge of Hellfrost anymore?” Aven asked.

The old woman snorted, “That prick? Nah, he ain’t even the proper prick. Just the shriveled head atop the wrinkly pole. It’s rotten all the way down. He’s the worst of the head wardens I’ve seen, but not by much.”

“How long have you been here?” Aven asked.

“Twenty years,” the old woman replied, looking proud of the fact.

“What did you do?”

Her smile broadened, “You’re looking at the Black Swan, love.”

Aven’s eyebrows raised, “Who?”

The smile faded, “Rani, the Black Swan.” Her scowl deepened at the lack of recognition on his face, “I was the best damn smuggler on Lake Agenthus! I took in more imperial gold than you could count! I stole a whole bloody legion’s payroll, I did. Seven thousand aurams!” Her voice grew more intense. More angry, “I killed every damn person who got in my way. I cut out the Gulls hearts and strung ‘em up as a bloody example!” She broke out into a coughing fit.

“I’m sorry,” Aven replied, “but I’ve never heard of you.”

The old woman snarled, “And what’d you do?”

“I killed my father,” Aven said. “Gaius Avarnius.”

“Well, I ain’t ever heard of him,” the old woman snarled.

“I have,” Boss responded in a subdued voice, staring hard at Aven, “he was a war hero. Of the Tenebras front.” A pause, “12th legion, right? They saved my village from raiders.”

Aven shrugged, “I’ll wager he saved a lot of people. And killed at least as many.” He glanced around, “But whoever we’ve killed or whatever we’ve done, we’re all here the same now, aren’t we? Shoveling rock for a priest whose only interest is how many lives he can break.”

“Aye,” Shad rumbled. “That’s the truth of it.”

The old woman looked at Aven for a long while as the game resumed. While the others were absorbed in the dice, she leaned over to whisper in Aven’s ear, “Whatever you’re planning, it’ll fail. I’ve watched a lot of idiots like you die pointlessly.”

“If it comes to that, I apologize in advance for afflicting you with yet another,” Aven said.

“Oh, I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy watching it,” she winked. “Just make it a good show, eh?”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *