A growl from his stomach broke the silence between them.
“You’ve got to eat, eh…,” Cadmun paused for a moment. “You weren’t introduced, were you? Damnit, Varyan. He never adheres to proper etiquette.”
“That’s alright. I don’t have a name. At least I don’t remember it. I don’t remember anything before arriving here.”
“Fell on the head now, did you? I’d want to forget the last three years too.” He chuckled. “In that case, we’ll need a name that sticks…”
Cadmun peered into the pot with a look of dismay. He stirred the dregs of the stew with a ladle, but the bowl he served was scarcely half full. He picked a hair out of the bowl.
“Can’t be mine,” he joked, “but today we had a rare treat for breakfast. PP and I caught a rabbit before sunrise. But don’t let the Adventurers find out. We’re forbidden to enter the forest. Do you understand, Recruit?”
Cadmun held back the bowl until he received a nod from him. Finally, he had some food in his hands. Though it was merely some herbs in broth and a piece of carrot, he devoured it with vigour. Unfortunately, he didn’t find any meat in his portion.
“I’m sorry, Recruit. We didn’t expect another mouth to feed. What you got was the leftovers that I would get. I can tell from experience that it isn’t much. The meat runs out halfway through. Make sure to collect the most gems today and you’ll be first in line for dinner,” Cadmun advised.
So he’s sticking with ‘Recruit’? Fair enough.
His stomach growled anew.
We’re working on diamonds? Then the Baron must be wealthy. Can’t he spare some food for us?
“You could ask PP if he’d share one of his rations,” Cadmun suggested, leaning in. “Though you’d have more luck trying to nick a meal from the Werewolf.”
They glanced over at a tent far from the main campsite. Even though the man sat cross-legged on the ground, he could tell that that man was nearly twice his size. He was muscular and seemed better nourished than the others. His hands were chained together. How strange. He must be some sort of thug.
The man had just finished eating and stacked his bowl atop another next to him. Another man with long hair, having just received his ration from Cadmun, handed him a third bowl which he accepted without a word.
“Don’t worry, Recruit. If you behave, PP has no reason to bother you,” Cadmun reassured. “And if anyone steps out of line, they’ll answer to me first.”
It’s nice of him to try to comfort me, but what could he do if that PP gets serious? His arms are the size of my head!
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“Attention!” a voice commanded, sounding aged.
He turned to see most of the slaves forming a line, standing straight. Cadmun passed by him to join them.
The voice rang out again: “Lords Blitz arriving at the campsite!”
That must be the Baron! I need to get in line too before-
The thought halted as soon as he saw the source of the voice. An old man with a scruffy beard and rags like his own was followed by Varyan and- Varyan?
image [https://c10.patreonusercontent.com/4/patreon-media/p/post/99257501/81523961f16847a6944602662fe45199/eyJ3Ijo4MjB9/1.jpeg?token-time=1731628800&token-hash=RPOVA5ko2XqDbMmhw6I-CNEMviYrPY2K9EQBnAezJzg%3D]
For a moment, he thought he was seeing double, but he clearly had Varyan and another boy identical to him, except with white hair, heading their way. The white-haired boy moved with a graceful stride, and the slaves bowed as he passed. His upright posture exuded pride, something that Varyan’s slouching did not. He seemed of noble birth; however, the rags he wore marked him as a slave too.
“Milord, I trust the rabbit stew was to your taste,” Cadmun said while bowing.
Milord?
His stomach churned as Cadmun mentioned food again. He glanced around in search of PP, hoping something was left. To his surprise, PP ignored the boys’ arrival and continued cleaning his bowls with a rag.
“It was an adequate meal, Frost,” the boy replied, shifting his focus. “So, you’re the new arrival.”
Cold, blue eyes glared into his own. The boy’s piercing gaze didn’t waver for even a second. It felt far more invasive than the earlier scrutiny from Varyan. Keeping eye contact was challenging.
“Nothing special here, except perhaps the hair colour,” the boy eventually remarked to Varyan. “Your doubts are misplaced. No reason to worry. He won’t be replacing anyone soon. He’s built like a stick.”
Side by side with Varyan, one could see they were twins, but their personalities were worlds apart.
“You’re not the Baron, are you?” he asked the boy.
A ripple of consternation spread along the line.
“Such impudence!” the old man bellowed.
A hand smacked the back of his head.
“You’ll address Lord Blitz as ‘Milord’ or ‘Lord Blitz’!” Cadmun forced his head into a bowing position, and his neck ached from the pressure. “Is that clear, Recruit?”
“Y-yes!” he stuttered.
What’s his problem?
“Good! Now apologise for your disrespect!”
“I’m sorry.”
What on earth did I do wrong?
“What was that?!” Cadmun pressed harder, as if attempting to force his face to the ground.
“I’m sorry!” The effort to stay upright made his ears ring.
“Did I instruct you to be sorry or to apologise for your disrespect, Recruit?”
“I apologise for my disrespect!”
The pressure on his neck ceased abruptly, and his head snapped back, causing him to lose his balance and tumble backwards. He landed on his behind, mud splattering over his back. It hurt. Looking up, he saw a sea of angry faces. His gaze met Varyan’s, which were softer and more understanding than the boy’s. Varyan shot him an apologetic look before following the boy to the edge of the shanty town. Who are these people? What kind of brother does Varyan have?
“A night without dinner will teach you,” Cadmun said.
“Sir Frost, are the men prepared?” The old man lingered.
“Indeed! PP will bring the pickaxes.”
Sir?
The old man nodded, and with just a look, commanded the men in line to follow him to the edge of the shanty town, where Varyan awaited. He received several hostile looks.
“On your feet, Recruit,” Cadmun ordered. “You’ll help PP with the pickaxes.”
The burly man approached from behind, laden with heavy sacks. He’d kept out of the incident, busy packing the pickaxes. One of the sacks dropped with a metallic clang beside him, splashing a wave of mud on his face. Ignoring the mess, the man continued towards the gathering crowd. What the hell is his problem?
“Get up!” Cadmun said. “The Adventurers will be arriving soon. And you don’t want to disrespect them.”