Page 5 of Starshine
“Can do. You want him in the eastern or western wing?”
Giselle glanced at him and said, “Whichever one has the bigger debris to haul. We’ll have him make up the lost time to earn that coin today.”
The tariten chuckled and clapped Garrett on the shoulder. “Alright then, let’s get to it.”
After his first week, Garrett learned a few things while working the mine: Melodee’s son Henry was just as decent as she had been, the tariten, Thyra, was not someone you wanted catching you taking a break, and he couldnotdo this for long.
He felt like he’d gotten into a fight with the mountain and lost. Every part of him ached, from the soles of his feet to the tips of his bruised fingers. Extraction, as it turned out, consisted of nothing more than filling sturdy baskets with broken rocks and ore from inside of the narrow tunnels of the mine and hauling them to the surface. He even modified the basket he’d been given to allow him to carry the weight over his shoulders rather than in his arms, but it did little to help.
It was brutal work, and he quickly realized that most of the people in his position didn’t have a choice in being there. At least he had the freedom of moving between the cramped mine tunnels without chains around his ankles.
His days fell into a pattern. He would wake, chip away a small breakfast from Melodee’s rations, check in with Giselle, spend the day in the mines, check out, muster up the energy to chew his supper, and fall into an uneasy sleep in the barracks. It was a small blessing that the job left him too tired to dream of Rogan.
Yet when payday came around, he was pleasantly surprised when the shift-end bell sounded a little after half day.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he fell into step with Henry to make their way out of the winding mine tunnels.
“Payday, mate,” Henry said with a grin. “We only work a half on payday.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard in ages,” Garrett said as he stretched out his aching back.
Henry clapped him on the shoulder and said, “First week’s always the hardest. Sleeping in the barracks doesn’t help. You sure you don’t have any coin for lodging?”
Garrett gave a short laugh as he followed the man up to Giselle’s office. They fell into the line of freemen that had already formed to collect their pay. “The only coin I have is what Giselle is about to give me.”
Henry tsked and said, “Give it a few more weeks. My lodging has real beds and only charges five coppers a month for your own room.”
“And would they take a half-orc?” Garrett asked flatly.
“Oh. I’m… not sure.” Henry was quiet for a moment before asking, “You want my da’s oiled skin back? Even camping might be better than the barracks.”
After the week he’d had, it was a tempting thought. Whether it was one of the convicted men shouting in the wee hours of the morning, or the mysterious, painful yanks on his braid in the dead of night, Garrett hadn’t gotten a full night’s rest since arriving. Camping outside of town would be colder to be sure, but at least he could sleep without fear of something worse befalling him. But on top of the long, exhausting day in the mines, that hour trek to and from the outskirts of town would be the death of him.
“The barracks are fine,” Garrett lied.
They moved up in the line, and after Henry accepted his purse, it was Garrett’s turn. He’d been at it for seven full days, but when he opened the purse Giselle gave him, he found only seven half-coppers instead of full ones.
“There must be some mistake,” Garrett said.
Giselle didn’t so much as look up from her list as she marked the next person off and handed them their purse. “No mistake. You’ve worked seven days, and you get a half-copper a day.”
Garrett gaped at her. “It’s supposed to be a full copper a day. That’s what I agreed to.”
Giselle reached for one of the papers on her desk, like she had been waiting for this. “That’s not what you signed.” She plopped his note down in front of him. He recognized his signature, but she pointed to an indecipherable line further up. “A half-copper for a day’s work. But if you want to take it up with the constable, I’m sure he’d love to hear your side of it.”
Bile rose in his throat even as his face heated. He glared at Giselle, fury rendering him speechless, but the woman paid him no attention as she continued to mark people off her list and hand out purses. Fuming, he snatched his purse up without another word.
Garrett caught up to Henry outside of the office. “Can you read?”
Henry looked at him in surprise. “No - why?”
Garrett watched as Henry pulled the full coppers from his purse.
“No reason.”
3
In spite of his light purse, Garrett had been waiting the entire week to reward himself with a hot meal, and he wasn’t going to let Giselle’s dirty dealings keep him from that. The trick, however, was finding a place that would serve him. There was a tavern that Henry and a few other miners frequented, but they turned him away at the door.
