The army was billeted in the city, but the slaves were bivouacked outside the walls. What's worse, they took the slaves' loot from them.
"I killed the man what had that axe!" Wrolf protested as the slavemaster robbed him. "By rights it's mine!"
"His family'll want it back."
"'Bitz take his family! We beat them; why should we care what they think?"
"'Cause this is King Thyrn's city now! Komn's vassals are his highness's now, and an happy vassal pays his taxes and don't rebel."
Once they had been despoiled, the slaves were led to the agora where a great fire had been built. Only half—maybe as many as two thirds—of what had stormed the walls still lived.
The branding process was quick and painful as it had been the first time, maybe even more so; this brand was a simple line, without the runic glyphs that declared Thyrn's ownership of him.
Komn's official surrender came the next day, though Wrolf only heard about it; the unwashed slaves were left outside during the show. Wrolf had hoped they would leave soon, but the next day they where brought around the city and started building.
The pass narrowed east of the city, with almost vertical cliffs of brown, orange, and gray stone. The land immediately before the city had been cleared for farming, though the potato patches grew only weeds now. Further out, the ubiquitous brown scrub of the Laksish bush grew amongst a few small, scattered trees.
The wall was started at the transition point between farmland and bush. The base was as wide as Wrolf was tall, made of stone gathered from the mountains and mortared together.
The slaves were divided into three groups and cycled between tasks: for two days they would bring stones from the mountain; for two days they would lay them; and for two they "rested" , mixing mud and clay for mortar. Wrolf ended up in the same group as Wolm and Thold.
They bivouacked on the unsown fields at night. Weeks into the project, Wrolf laid down, exhausted. Dett, another slave pulled into Wolm's orbit, was making dinner—a soup of boiled corn and vegetables—while Wolm and Thold lounged nearby.
"I hope we leave soon," Thold complained. "I thought military slavery was hard, but I'll dig trenches all day over luggin' 'round stones."
"This ain't so bad," Wrolf spoke up. "It's basically what I did, 'fore being enslaved."
"So that's how you got so buff," said Wolm. "Say, what did the rest of y'all do? I think I've already said I was a miner."
"Farmer," Thold snapped, while Dett coolly answered "I was a cook.".
Wolm raised an eyebrow. "A cook? That's all you did? Didn't grow or raise the food?"
"Just prepared it," Dett nodded. "I was a slave even before joining the army. Served in some mine lord's villa. Lord Nock, you mighta heard of him."
"Lord Nock? He owned my mine!"
"No kidding? Say, how's a miner get into this anyway? I thought you miners were supposed to be a higher caste or something."
"That's mine lords you're thinking of. I'm just a lowly digger; I'm above a farmer, but I'm only about the same caste as a builder like Wrolf over there."
"Were you born a slave?" Thold asked. "Or just couldn't keep aheada your debt?"
"A bit of both, I suppose." Dett tasted the soup, then shook his head and kept stirring. "My dad sold me to pay off his debt, when I was two or three. Lord Nock found me at...my previous job when I was four-and-a-dozen or so. Thought my food was good, so he bought me and made me his personal cook."
"Then when Thyrn's army rolls up he runs, leaving the servants behind?" Wrolf asked.
Dett shook his head. "Nock was off in Kurbrom on business when Thyrn showed up. Guards surrendered. They got impressed into the regular army, while the rest of us slaves just got us a new master."
He tasted the soup again, then nodded and called out "dinner's ready," gathering the rest of Wolm's entourage. A baker's dozen branded slaves had gravitated towards Wolm over the weeks.
As they ate, Wolm asked "anyone else wanna share their more of their past with us?" No one volunteered. "I can go first, if you want." A few perked up at that, but there were still no volunteers. Wrolf himself was somewhat curious, but didn't feel like opening up in front of so many strangers.
"Oh well, guess I gotta make you curious first." Wolm shrugged. "No matter. Eat up, then get some sleep. We've got a hard day tomorrow; I know we all hate rockhounding."
"Not Wrolf." There were some chuckles at that. Wrolf grinned sheepishly at the unwanted attention.
"Come on, I'm just as buff as he is!" Wolm said in mock indignation. It was true. He had a miner's body: muscular from the work, and sickly pale from lack of sunlight. At least, he had once been so pale, but months under the sun hand burned him, and that burn had since faded to a tan. "Anyway, sleep well."