02-02-2017, 11:33 AM
Navigating by the light of the few lanterns that hung from the junctions, Carmelita paced quietly through the mine. The echoing of the clink of pickaxes and the shuffling of feet guided her through the tunnels, her ears twitching for the sounds of guards. It took all her effort not to gasp as she laid eyes on a pair of children, legs connected by a stout iron bar, dragging a cart of rock along the tunnel. They looked emaciated, but they staggered on, watched by the single bandit that lazed around on a chair nearby.
She followed the pair up the slope, watching as they emerged into the light of the main cave. A pile of spoil by one of the huts was added to, and the two children abandoned the cart there under the eyes of the bandits that played cards on a table nearby. One of them stood up and shoved the boy and girl roughly back down the tunnel, and Carmelita followed.
The sound of bubbling soon met her ears, and she found herself in the entrance to a large kitchen area. Several pots bubbled away on the fires, and a few better dressed hostages served up food into bowls.
“Hey,” the bandit said, looking down at one of the cooks, “Don’t give them the medium stuff. The thin gruel will be all they need to shift rock.”
Obeying his words, they poured the stew back into the pot and instead filled it with gruel, passing the bowls over to the two children with pained expressions. The bandit turned to a compatriot who sat in the corner with her own bowl of rich meat and gravy and gave a wave.
“Cutty, how’ve you been doing cooped up with the prisoners? Any trouble?”
The two of them sat down at the table while the two children carefully drank what little food they’d been given. Once they’d finished, they gave a wistful look at the pots before the boy tugged the girl out gently. Carmelita followed.
The two children wandered down the tunnel, passing the bandit from earlier and heading down a small passageway. Carmelita followed to see a guard roughly grab them and take them into one of the rooms.
She’d found the prisoner quarters. One room had nothing but bare earth to sleep on, and Carmelita spotted the woman she’d shadowed into the camp chained to the floor, while the room the children had been taken into at least had small rags and blankets. At the far end, Carmelita found proper iron barred cells with small cots, some of which were occupied. The prisoners seemed to enjoy varying levels of care.
When the guard returned to his post, Carmelita snuck into the room in which the woman was in and nudged her gently to wake her.
“Huh?”
“Shh. It’s me again.”
“Who are you?”
“Inspector Fox-Cooper. I’m here to help.”
A rustle of movement from Carmelita’s right and she realised that the prisoner next to the woman was staring right at them, eyes wide. Carmelita clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth as she began to speak.
“Shh! Don’t speak too loudly.”
The girl froze, before relaxing. Carmelita released her hand and the girl stared at where she thought Carmelita’s head might be. Carmelita continued quietly.
“I’m going to get you all out of here, but I need time. What are your names?”
“Malon.”
“Sera Toel.”
“I can’t talk too long right now. Sera, is there a good time to ask you questions?”
The girl gave a cautious nod.
“My job is to sweep the floor in the living areas. Since I’m on my own there, I won’t be punished for speaking softly to myself.”
“I’ll see you then. Stay safe.”
Carmelita left as quietly as she’d entered, and headed back to her bolthole. It was getting late, and she needed to sleep so she’d be ready to explore the mine properly.
She had a rescue operation to plan for.
She followed the pair up the slope, watching as they emerged into the light of the main cave. A pile of spoil by one of the huts was added to, and the two children abandoned the cart there under the eyes of the bandits that played cards on a table nearby. One of them stood up and shoved the boy and girl roughly back down the tunnel, and Carmelita followed.
The sound of bubbling soon met her ears, and she found herself in the entrance to a large kitchen area. Several pots bubbled away on the fires, and a few better dressed hostages served up food into bowls.
“Hey,” the bandit said, looking down at one of the cooks, “Don’t give them the medium stuff. The thin gruel will be all they need to shift rock.”
Obeying his words, they poured the stew back into the pot and instead filled it with gruel, passing the bowls over to the two children with pained expressions. The bandit turned to a compatriot who sat in the corner with her own bowl of rich meat and gravy and gave a wave.
“Cutty, how’ve you been doing cooped up with the prisoners? Any trouble?”
The two of them sat down at the table while the two children carefully drank what little food they’d been given. Once they’d finished, they gave a wistful look at the pots before the boy tugged the girl out gently. Carmelita followed.
The two children wandered down the tunnel, passing the bandit from earlier and heading down a small passageway. Carmelita followed to see a guard roughly grab them and take them into one of the rooms.
She’d found the prisoner quarters. One room had nothing but bare earth to sleep on, and Carmelita spotted the woman she’d shadowed into the camp chained to the floor, while the room the children had been taken into at least had small rags and blankets. At the far end, Carmelita found proper iron barred cells with small cots, some of which were occupied. The prisoners seemed to enjoy varying levels of care.
When the guard returned to his post, Carmelita snuck into the room in which the woman was in and nudged her gently to wake her.
“Huh?”
“Shh. It’s me again.”
“Who are you?”
“Inspector Fox-Cooper. I’m here to help.”
A rustle of movement from Carmelita’s right and she realised that the prisoner next to the woman was staring right at them, eyes wide. Carmelita clamped a hand over the girl’s mouth as she began to speak.
“Shh! Don’t speak too loudly.”
The girl froze, before relaxing. Carmelita released her hand and the girl stared at where she thought Carmelita’s head might be. Carmelita continued quietly.
“I’m going to get you all out of here, but I need time. What are your names?”
“Malon.”
“Sera Toel.”
“I can’t talk too long right now. Sera, is there a good time to ask you questions?”
The girl gave a cautious nod.
“My job is to sweep the floor in the living areas. Since I’m on my own there, I won’t be punished for speaking softly to myself.”
“I’ll see you then. Stay safe.”
Carmelita left as quietly as she’d entered, and headed back to her bolthole. It was getting late, and she needed to sleep so she’d be ready to explore the mine properly.
She had a rescue operation to plan for.