6. Hellish Mine
6.1 The pit
The cart had been stopped some time.
On the journey the heat had been
crippling these last hours. He had
thought he had nothing left in his
body to sweat out. The heat of the
day had driven his body wild.
Dehydrated, delirious with weakness,
no sweat in him left, his body
temperature had just soared. His head
on fire.
Then the cart had stopped moving.
Had they arrived? Had these bastards
got him to the gates of hell?
“Get ya’re fucking arse outta there.”
Graisingh had felt hands on his
restraints. Freeing his feet. Undoing
that constriction tight around his
chest. Sounds overhead, grasping
hands at his wrists on top of his cage.
When Graisingh could pull his hands
free, agony burst like fire-crackers
bursting in his body. Nothing had
moved in hours. Every muscle inert,
the freedom to move was sheer torture.
“Move it!” A hand was suddenly
around the scruff of his neck. Yanking
him forward.