An imposing iron fence surrounded the salt mine. On the south side stood a gate that opened onto the broad road used to transport rock salt out of the compound and bring supplies in. The guards surely opened it each morning, but now, with no one to do so, it remained closed. Van could probably have located the keys if he searched the guardhouse, but he elected to climb the fence instead. He knew the top was covered with spikes to deter escapees and invaders, but he didn’t want anyone to guess from the open gate that someone had escaped. He took a discarded wooden tub and placed it at the bottom of the fence near the garbage heap. Climbing on top of this, he laid a frayed and thickly folded horse rug over the spikes. He threw his bag over first, then scaled the fence with the child on his back. Once on the other side, he stretched up and tipped the blanket back on the mine side of the fence. With any luck, people would assume that both bucket and blanket had merely blown off the garbage heap.
If they use the dogs, there’s no chance of escaping anyway.
Van realized he’d not heard a single dog barking. Several accompanied the slave foreman wherever he went, yet Van detected no sign of them anywhere.
Were they attacked, too?
If the dogs were tied up in the kennel when the beasts came, they could have been mauled to death. I should have checked yesterday. Unfortunately, it didn’t occur to him until now. I’m losing my touch. Before, Van would have noticed such details immediately. The endless days of hopeless slavery must have whittled away at his once well-trained mind.
Van stared at the forest that lay before him and sighed. The little one clung to his neck without a whimper. He’d strapped her to his back with the baby sling he found beside her mother. Perhaps that had reassured her. It had certainly made it easier to climb over the fence.
“Good girl,” Van whispered, jiggling her a few times.
“Nyaga, tonton!” she exclaimed. While Van gathered his luggage, she chattered away contentedly, probably quite used to being carried piggyback while her mother worked. Van slung the bow across his back, buckled the sword around his waist, and grasped the quiverin one hand and the bag in the other. Despite the load, Van’s body felt light and easy. Perhaps it was thanks to finally having enough to eat.
He set off into the forest thick with evergreens that stretched toward the heavens, obstructing the sun even in late autumn. It was quiet and gloomy under the trees, but the stunted underbrush made walking much easier where there was no path.
Van had no clear idea of what he would do next. His homeland, the mountainous Toga region, had already fallen into the hands of the conquerors. Toga was located on the westernmost edge of Aquafa, the last part of the kingdom to have been swallowed by the slowly advancing wave of Zolian troops. Against the mighty Empire of Zol, the mountain clans on the frontier had stood no chance. Even the smallest child had understood that. However, Van’s people had also known their existence would be little better than that of slaves should they give in without a fight. Fleeing hadn’t been an option, for the Kingdom of Mukonia was to the west, and it ruled its subjects with a cruelty that exceeded the Empire of Zol.
Aquafa had shrewdly allied itself with the invaders and became a province of the empire, thus ensuring its people the status of ordinary citizens. But the various clans scattered throughout the mountains of the Toga region were not regarded as Aquafaese, even though they spoke the language and had fought to protect its borders from Mukonian incursions. Under the King of Aquafa, the clans had been considered independent and allowed a loose autonomy in their own affairs in return for their allegiance. Thus, Zol refused to recognize the mountain peoples as citizens under its regime.
Only after devoting many years to securing a stable government in central Aquafa did the Zolians finally turn their full attention to the last stage of annexation: the subjugation of the Toga region. The King of Aquafa had sent messengers to each clan offering to negotiate with Zol for a guarantee of safety in return for allegiance to the empire. As the former ruler of a land that was now merely a province, however, the king could only parley to spare their lives. He had no say in determining the status of their clans. The involvement of a former ruler simply presented too many problems when treatment of clans in subjugated territory was tied to imperial management of the frontier.
It was Zolian policy to relocate lower castes to other parts of its conquered territory. Failing to receive ordinary citizen status like the Aquafaese meant the clans would be forced to leave their homelands and eke out a miserable existence in an unfamiliar place. After long deliberation, the leaders of the Gansa saw no alternative but to feign resistance. They decided to greet the invading forces with a band of daring warriors ready to fight to the death and demonstrate that they were not easily beaten and would make useful allies. This, they hoped, might allow them to negotiate for more acceptable terms should they offer to submit to Zolian rule and form a vanguard to protect the empire’s new western flank. If the Zolians recognized that the clans were well versed in the mountainous terrain and could serve as a buffer against Mukonia, the Gansa might be permitted to stay.
It was a band of death warriors known as the Lone Antlers that arose to challenge the Zolian forces and fight this hopeless battle. Its members were all men who, for one reason or another, had been robbed of normal lives. Ancient in origin, the band was said to have emerged when the gods first appeared in the form of pyuika, flying deer, and its members were exempt from the rules that bound the Gansa clan as long as they vowed to serve as its shield, giving their lives to protect it should the need arise. Even outsiders fleeing some calamity in their own land were welcomed as clansmen if they chose to join these warriors. It was the existence of the Lone Antlers that allowed the elders to even consider a strategy of quasi-resistance.
There was one other factor that made the elders’ strategy feasible. The Toga Mountains ran along the western border of Aquafa, which was constantly plagued by incursions. The would-be invaders brought disease in addition to war. Over the last few decades, successive epidemics had swept through the mountain clans, decimating the greater part of the population in some areas. As a result, many men who had lost their families to war or disease sought out the Gansa and joined the Lone Antlers, and its ranks swelled to unprecedented numbers.
When the elders had approached Van, leader of the Lone Antlers, with their proposal, he and his men accepted this mission eagerly, for each of them carried a burden of sorrow and despair.