The Smith sat there for a minute, ruminating on the information about the ward. He didn’t know anything about wards at that time, but his skill did tell him it was an Intermediate level enchantment, so he could believe that the ward had multiple strong functions built in. Still, even based on what the boy had said, his spirits were too riled up from his argument earlier to give in to despair. Even if he couldn’t think of anything at the moment, he simply didn’t want to give up.
First things first, he decided to head into the mine. Even though he had his [Mining] skill, he didn’t want the slavers to know about it and start expecting a higher output of iron. The grey-eyed boy was right at least about that, and the reason James felt like he could help others was because of the extra energy he had from not being exhausted from mining all day. That, and the time he spent [Forging] and [Smelting] not wearing him out much either.
As he stepped out of the lean-to, however, he nearly walked face first in to the broad chest of the slaver with the whip. Startled, he flinched back, and then as he recognized which slaver it was, he took another big step back.
“So, the two runners are working on their escape plan together, eh?” He sneered, one hand stroking the coiled length of his whip, deliberately where James could see it.
James gulped, then answered back firmly. “No, we’re not.”
“Oh, you’re not, eh?” the slaver pointed at the lean-to with his other hand. “So why’s the other runner in the lean-to? It’s mining time, not sleeping time, idjit.”
James thought fast. There was basically no chance this slaver would accept the reasoning that the boy was injured and needed rest to recover, not with his sadistic tendencies.
“He, he’s in the way in the mine. He’s getting in the way and slowing everybody down, and he can’t do any work in his… condition anyway. So, that’s why.” he finished, slightly lamely.
“In the way, huh?” the slaver squinted at the Smith. “Really…?”
“Yes.” James sad far more confidently than he actually felt.
“And you, you’re not thinking of running again, are you?”
James blinked, then responded “No.”
“Good.” the slaver gloated, “Because if you tried, we’d be on you so fast your head would spin. So don’t even think about it.”
He continued, “You know, you’ve got it good here, Smith. Free food, no rent, stable employment, and we even let you play with your little forge. But don’t let it get to your head. If you bite the hand that’s feeding you, I’ll be right there to remind you of your place. Got it?”
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“Y-yes, I understand.” James said.
“Now get back in the mine.” the slaver ordered, and he stood there outside the lean-to, watching the Smith the entire walk back to the mine.
Slightly shaken, the Smith re-entered the mine to the unceasing sound of pick-axes striking stone. Feeling slightly less confident, but still unwilling to give up, he quickly mined out both his portion of iron ore and the injured boy’s, then went to the furthest end of the mine and worked on expanding the tunnel, working at a slow and steady pace. Almost meditatively, he carved out more tunnel while thinking about their situation, but no revelations came to him.
He stayed in the mine later than everyone else, like the last time he had stayed late to hide his [Mining] skill. It was already dark by the time he exited, dumping his iron ore on the pile by the smelter. At dinner time, he took double servings of the bread and soup, quickly eating his own portion before taking the rest of the injured boy who was still lying in the lean-to, apparently having stayed put throughout the day. At first the injured boy did not acknowledge the food, but the Smith scolded him.
“Hurry up and eat, I need to get smelting and you’re holding me up.” The Smith tried to sound stern as he said it, but the injured boy merely snorted before he started eating.
“You know…” the injured boy started, “I wanted to be a [Jeweler]. I was going to find the best gems and cut them and create the most beautiful jewelry. That’s why I became an [Earth Mage] in the first place, to find the best jewels… But I never had a chance. Never will, huh.” He sniffed and fell quiet.
After a minute of silence, the Smith stood up. “I have to go.” he said, but the injured boy didn’t reply. Just laid their quietly.
The next morning, the Smith checked on the injured boy to see if his back had scabbed over properly, but found instead that the wounds had turned green and were oozing pus into the leaves that made up the boy’s bedding.
Infection.
The boy, now feverish, could barely muster the energy to even walk with assistance, and the Smith made use of his class strength boost to haul him to the creek. He tried to clean the boy’s wounds, but with nothing but creek water, no healing class, and no knowledge of medical care, there was not much he could do.
Regardless of one’s class selection, everyone should learn the basics of first aid and how to treat wounds. One doesn’t need a dedicated class to know the basics of medical care.
After cleaning up the injured boy and putting him back into the lean-to, the Smith joined the rest of the slaves in mining. Nobody attempted to talk to him, and the grey-eyed boy avoided his gaze.
At lunch, the Smith asked the boys if any of them knew any medicine. Everyone shook their head no. Before returning to the mine, the Smith found Coin, the slaver with whom he had the best relationship, and asked him if he had any potions, or if the healer was coming back soon.
“Not for you lot I don’t have any potions. I assume you’re asking about the idiot who tried to run? Forget about it. He’s a lost cause.”
“W-well, what about the healer? Is he coming soon?” James asked hopefully.
“Nope, not during winter at least. Ah, keep that to yourself though. Wasn’t supposed to tell you that.” The slaver responded.
James nodded his assent, and returned to the mine. That night, he took the boy to the creek again to wash his wounds, though they didn’t look any better in the dim dusk light.
