Chapter Sixteen

 “The miners are the only ones standing up for the rights of the workers like you! If they lose it will be a message to the aristocracy that they can get away with starving us for their own gain. If you help them win then it shows that we are stronger than they are, and that we do need to be listened to! Have the pride that you’re helping a good cause and help feed the strikers. Stand up to Slynn and men like him! Give food, give money, whatever you can, you will not regret it and we will not forget it. Feed the miners! Keep the strike up, and we will win!”

Dain felt a surge of pride watching his wife speak. He had clearly married the right woman. While the men were taking their stand, many of the women were doing whatever they could to help. For some, that meant looking after the kids and managing whatever livestock or land they had. For Gelen, it meant speaking at markets and appealing to the public for help to keep the miners fed, since officially they had no income. Gelen didn’t know about the money Dain was being given by the hooded man, and neither did anybody else except Parry and Merek. This way they had an explanation for where some of the money came from and how they were able to afford feeding everyone. And of course, it was important to have another source of support other than an unreliable stranger.

Today was the first day he had actually seen her in action at the market, and her words seemed to be working. The people were getting stirred up about it, and some were giving money, which was no small thing. Nobody here would do that lightly. Dain let her finish, then used his size and his staff to push through the throng of people in the market. He stepped up to the small wooden platform and embraced her, kissing her on the cheek.

“You were brilliant,” he said, before turning to the expectant crowd. “Now, I believe I would be the best one to answer your questions.”

One of the bolder men came to the front.

“Do you really think that your demands will be met?” he asked doubtfully. “Didn’t the King send a man to kill you?”

“There is no evidence that the man was sent by the King. But even so, he was unsuccessful, and here I stand. Besides, the strike does not live and die with me, many could take my place,” said Dain, thinking ominously of Redskin. “The King has been waiting a long time now for our strike to end, but we still stand strong, while the Kingdom has no brimstone supply whatsoever. Before long he will have to force Slynn to back down, as we will not.”

“If you need money from us, does that not mean the strike cannot be sustained without our help?” asked another. “Besides, we only have so much we can give!”

Dain paused before answering.

“Do not worry about the resolve of us miners, we won’t break easily. I admit that without the people’s help it would be a struggle, but we would last a long time, have no doubt. I ask your help so that the brave men risking their livelihoods can rest assured that they have the support of the people and that they will not starve if the strike does last,” Dain replied.

“I heard that you armed yourselves. How are you anything better than rebels?” asked a woman in the middle of the crowd.

Dain sighed inwardly, cursing Redskin.

“Unlike rebels, we have no violent intentions,” defended the miner. “We carry weapons in defence, after men of ours have been beaten and killed in confrontations with the King’s men, and an attempt was made on my life. We are not an aggressive group, and have done no wrong in that respect.”

And so it continued, with questions coming and the leader of the strike doing his best to answer them, until enough was enough and he called an end to it, taking the generous donations of the people with him. He left his wife, and went off to the miners’ camp with the money in a large pouch at his belt. The walk was tiring – he was still recovering from his injury, but it was a relief to reach the camp and see everyone in good health. These days he had started to become paranoid about leaving in case some situation arose which he was not there to fix. He breathed in the malodorous stench of the great collection of men and smiled. The men were bantering and laughing, still in good spirits despite the length of time they’d spent camped here. The ale probably helped in that respect. He didn’t know how long it would last though. It was easy for men to become restless, and now that the last of the mines had joined the strike all they could do was wait. He greeted the men, finding a group from his own mine, Parry among them, and settling down for a game of liar dice. He wasn’t playing for long before he was interrupted.

“So our glorious leader has returned,” said Redskin, his scarred features contorting into a smile as he appeared, flanked by his beast of a friend, Gottren. “Where were you, if I might ask?”

Dain sighed, and looked up at him. Redskin was a constant thorn in his side. He seemed to crop up everywhere, unwanted, but always wanting something himself.

“I was with my wife, at the market, collecting donations for the strike, now get to your point, I’m in the middle of a game,” said Dain.

“If you insist,” agreed Redskin. “I believe it is only fair that we share our food together. If we are to be a unified group, we should not leave one half overfed and the other hungry.”

“Our original deal was for your men to feed themselves,” reminded Dain, forcing himself to his feet to look Redskin in the eye.

“It was,” conceded the man. “But circumstances change. We have been gaining men from all over the place. The King made a deal with the Darrowmeres which forced men away from their homes, and it’s left them with a bone to pick. Our men now at least match yours in number, and more come every day. Every man who joins us makes the King more likely to give in, and you benefit evermore from our protection, but give us nothing more in return. I brought you the last brimstone mine, remember.”

“You did,” Dain nodded, “although I question how you did it.”

“Who the fuck cares about methods?” laughed Redskin. “Besides, I have reason to question your methods as well. Why don’t you explain to all of these men here how you’re paying for all of the food you’re providing?”

Dain felt a sudden chill. He glanced at the men around him, whose eyes were all on the pair.

“Nothing to say?” teased Redskin. “Go on; show us how much you managed to collect in donations. I highly doubt it is enough to feed every miner here. Being responsible for a large group of men myself, I’ve been struggling with the calculations. I’m starting to wonder how your men have enough food to build up a store of it as well as feed and water everyone. It makes me wonder whether you have some other source of income.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dain said flatly. “Perhaps the people are just more willing to give money to miners than rebels.”

Redskin’s eyes flashed.

“Perhaps,” he said, “but your men carry weapons now too. I think we are very much alike. If your men grew hungry I think they too would start to wonder what they would do to set things right. There’s a manor nearby, you know. Lots of food. Lots of money, too. It’s a veritable honey pot. Yes, it’s guarded, but we have a lot of men. And the hungrier they get, the sweeter that pot looks...”

Dain was taken aback. He reassessed Redskin, looking at him anew.

“The King would kill you all!” he protested. “You can’t be serious. If your group is getting too large then simply stop taking on more men.”

Redskin shook his head smugly.

“Those poor men who’ve risked death by abandoning their lords to join us? It’s not in my nature to reject them. I could never do that to them,” he said. “As for the King, I think he’s a smart man. Say we did raid this manor. He then has a choice. Meet our demands and lose nothing, or risk his soldiers just to punish us. Besides, it need not come to that. You have enough food to feed everyone, no?”

Dain glared at him.

“You’re crazy,” he said. “Absolutely insane if you think you could challenge the King like that and ever get away with it. And you want us to share food with you?”

“Haven’t you been appealing to the people with the claim that you’re standing up for all of them?” the man challenged. “What kind of message would it send if you were seen to only care about miners and no one else?”

“It does make sense,” said Parry, butting into the conversation. “I mean, we’re far from starving, and we want Redskin’s lot to stand with us to make us stronger. Before we were only relying on the shortage of brimstone to make the King give in. Now he has even bigger problems than that! Surely keeping them well fed only helps us.”

“And what about when more men join?” asked Dain, focusing on Redskin. “You claimed you’d welcome everyone with open arms. Well every farm labourer who joins you is one less working in the fields. If this keeps going on there’ll be a food shortage across the Kingdom!”

“A food shortage and a brimstone shortage? All the more reason for the crown to meet our demands,” he replied, unfazed.

Dain wanted to punch the man in his smug red face. He refused to show any concern for anything, and had dangerous predispositions towards violence.

“We’ll share half our food supply with you,” agreed Dain finally. “Only half, no matter how many more men join. The other half remains ours.”

“I happily accept,” said Redskin, inclining his head and turning to leave. Even the way he did that infuriated him.

“Parry, find Merek and join me in my tent, we need to talk,” said Dain.

His friend went to find Merek, and Dain went to his tent to wait. The wind made the fabric of the tent flap, blocking out most of the sound from the camp, giving him a clear head to contemplate his next move. Leadership was certainly not all it was cracked up to be. Everyone wanted something from you and it was impossible to satisfy everyone.

After a time, the entrance flap was pulled back and Merek’s face appeared, with Parry behind. The tent was large, but meant only for sleeping in, so the three men were all forced to sit to have their discussion.

“You wanted to talk, then?” queried Merek.

Dain nodded.

“I’ll get right to the point. Redskin is becoming a loose cannon. I’m worried that he’ll end up doing something radical soon, and it could result in him bringing the rest of us down with him,” said Dain. “I don’t think we have much to gain by supporting him. I believe we need to let the King know that as soon as he meets our demands, not including Redskin’s, I will ask everyone to end their strike and leave the labourers to sort out their own problems. Sound right?”

Parry shifted uncomfortably.

“Do you not think everyone will see us as disloyal?” he asked. “We’re supposed to be sticking together.”

Dain wasn’t in a mood for pity.

“I’m sorry, but in this respect, the miners are my only concern. I doubt Redskin would show any loyalty in our position – he just knows that his demands are less likely to be met if he stands alone. Besides, I was the one asking the miners to go on strike. I have to take some responsibility for them. Redskin’s lot had nothing to do with us. If we are given the opportunity to end the strike with our demands met, we should take it. At that point it makes no difference what the people think”

“I agree,” said Merek. “I don’t think it would come as a surprise to Redskin. He’ll probably expect it. I imagine he just wanted his men to latch onto us for support until they grew enough to stand by themselves.”

“That’s settled then,” said Dain. “Redskin will most likely want to be at any negotiations from any of the King’s envoys, but I imagine a quick word in private would be doable the next time the King wants to speak.”

“Was there anything else?” asked Merek.

What Dain was thinking made him feel dirty and disgusted with himself, and was something he would never have dreamed himself thinking of before the events of the strike, but he felt that it needed to be brought up.

“Earlier today, Redskin threatened raiding a nearby manor for food and money. He seemed genuinely prepared to kill, and risk a violent response from the King as a result. If he does this, and the King mobilises forces against him, they may not distinguish between his lot and the miners. We are at the same camp, and thanks to him we’re all armed. He could get us all killed. If he truly wishes to go ahead with this folly, that one man could be responsible for hundreds of deaths.”

“What are you suggesting then?” asked Parry darkly.

Dain met his gaze.

“I think we should be prepared to kill him.”

Next Chapter: Chapter Seventeen