Jack lay in his bedroll, wishing he could crawl into a hole and die. They had mined for what seemed like an eternity, but Isaac had assured him that it had been only five hours. Five mind numbing, ear ringing, back breaking hours.

How was he supposed to endure this? Isaac had played pack mule on their return to the shed, somehow carrying all the tools, and two bags of sediment that had started the day off as the rockface. He was sweating, and clearly exhausted, but looked like he’d be fine after a shower.

“Not that they have showers here”, he’d grumbled when Isaac had led him to buckets near the well. “For washing”, he’d said, before stripping and using a rag and a foul smelling bar of soap that were placed nearby to briskly scrub himself clean.

Jack had barely been able to lift his arms. He’d washed his face as best he could but declined to go the full monty, out in the open. That had drawn a chuckle from Isaac.

He had declined to accompany Isaac to the mess tent, claiming no appetite. The truth was he was in no position to walk there, and even if he had he doubted he’d have been able to hold the spoon.

“Captain would like a word with you”, a voice accompanied by a foot poking him is his ribs.

“Bugger off”, Ronny mumbled, lashing out with a burly arm at the offending foot.

“Get up”, the voice and foot returned.

“I said BUGGER OFF!”, Ronny roared, sitting up and getting ready to teach whoever was waking him up at this ungodly hour. The sound of steel being drawn quickly sobered him. “All right, all right, I’m up!”, he stopped protesting.

He fumbled as a second guard threw him his clothes. Judging by the light it was barely past the crack of dawn, the desert air still chilled.

“What’s this about?’, he enquired as he started pulling on his pants.

“Your debt, I believe. The Captain will explain it more clearly”, the guard with the offending foot replied.

“Finally!”, Ronny exclaimed. “Sure took the boss long enough to sort this mess out”, he thought as he finished dressing and followed a guard out, the other covering him from behind.

The trio marched up to and out of the gate to the miner’s quarters, heading to the fort on the other end of the soldiers camp. The guards at the entrance to the fort were a far more impressive sight than those guarding the miner’s tents.

They walked him to a wooden structure that took up half the open area in front of the fort proper, entering through a door that Ronny barely fit through into a small room. “Wait here, the Captain will be with you shortly”, one of the guards indicated for him to take a seat.

GONG… GONG… GONG… GONG

Jack woke up with a start, taking a few moments to figure out where he was. “Right. Secret Mine. Slave. No, indentured servant”, his memories caught up to him.

“What’s going on?”, he asked Isaac who was already out of his bedroll, standing and stretching.

He gingerly tested his own condition, remembering the agony he’d been in when sleep had eventually claimed him. Everything from the waist up hurt, but it all seemed to be working more or less normally.

“Four gongs means general assembly. They’ll be expecting us all by the main gate in ten minutes. Best not to be late”, Isaac replied. He didn’t look surprised - had he been expecting something of the sort?

“Ugh”, groaned Jack, getting up and searching for his clothes.

Several minutes later, Jack, Isaac, the Dalton brothers and the other miners were all milling around just inside the gate. Jack counted eleven miners, including himself. The gate to the main soldier camp opened, and a bored looking soldier appeared to be doing a quick headcount.

“Right, you’re all here. Follow me”, he simply instructed the group and started heading up the path through the camp.

“All? I don’t see the big guy from yesterday”, wondered Jack.

The group wandered up to the fort, guarded by a single bored looking soldier. Granted, they were in the middle of a camp full of soldiers, so they weren’t exactly a threat. After entering the fort, they were led to a wooden structure.

Which turned out to be a very small arena. Four rows of benches, raised and surrounding a ten by ten square of empty ground. On either end was a small door. The miners were directed to the front row. There were also a number of off duty soldiers scattered around the other benches.

“Are we here to watch a show, or what?”, Jack asked Isaac who had been quiet the whole time.

“You could call it that. A show. A lesson. A reminder.”, came the vague reply. Isaac seemed a lot more somber than his usual self, although not concerned.

A few more soldiers trickled in. Unlike the miners, the soldiers seemed quite cheerful, chatting and laughing.

Everyone settled. A short while later, one of the doors to the arena opened, and in strode Captain Ishmeal, still looking more like a scholar than a military man. He nodded, standing dead still near the center of the arena.

“So that’s why they said we’re all here”, thought Jack as the other door opened, revealing a confused looking Ronald being prodded out into the open.

“Is this an… an execution?”, Jack turned his head slightly to Isaac.

“No. Well, probably not. The Captain isn’t one to waste”, came the laconic reply.

“Probably not?”, thought Jack, a bit taken aback by the strange answer.