The Ranger of Marzanna (The Goddess War #1) - Jon Skovron Page 0,91
still sounded like a long time to perform such grueling work. “How many have you been working?”
“Uh…” The miners looked at each other. Then the first one ventured, “Fifteen? Sixteen? It’s hard to say for sure exactly.”
“Sixteen-hour shifts? And how many days off?”
They stared blankly at him.
“You’ve had no days off, then,” surmised Sebastian.
“Captain, why are you even listening to these fools?” demanded the captive, looking both nervous and offended.
“Shut up,” Sebastian told him. Then he turned back to the miners. “What are your other demands?”
“If the foreman beats a man to death, the man’s wife and children are still entitled to the money he earned!”
They nodded to each other, like they thought that such a thing would be a huge victory to achieve.
“And why is the foreman beating people to death?” Sebastian asked.
“Oh, well…” Again they looked at each other, as if hoping the other would be able to provide the answer. “I reckon because he wasn’t working fast enough? Or he fell asleep on the job? Something like that. The foreman has a nasty temper so it could be anything, really.”
Sebastian stared at them for a moment, marveling at how matter-of-fact they were about such terrible working conditions.
“Let me see if I have this right,” he said at last. “After working sixteen hours, a man falls asleep and this is considered punishable by death? And your request is not that these appalling murders cease, but merely that the widow not be cheated out of the money?”
“Uh…,” said one of the miners. “Yeah?”
“Why not just quit?” asked Sebastian.
“And go where? The next closest mine is a hundred and fifty miles away.”
“I… think I understand now.”
When the commander had said these men might have been pushed beyond capacity, Sebastian had thought he knew what that meant. Now he saw that he had not. These men were being horribly abused. No wonder the ones out front had been so suicidally defiant. They were truly in a desperate situation. Did that mean that Sebastian should have treated their leaders more kindly? But they had disrespected him. All they would have had to do was explain the situation as these men were now doing rather than hurl insults at him. Then he would have understood from the outset.
“Captain, I must insist you punish these men at once,” said the well-dressed man.
Sebastian regarded him for a moment. “You… insist?”
“Clearly you’re new to the post, so let me tell you how things are—”
“What is your name?” Sebastian spit the consonants out sharply. More disrespect? And this time from the mine owner? When would people finally understand that he was not to be crossed?
“S-Stalik Nazarov Vysotskaya.” The man looked less sure of himself now.
“You are the owner of this mine?”
“I… am.” Vysotskaya squirmed under Sebastian’s unfriendly gaze.
“And you allowed the foreman to occasionally beat your workers to death?”
Now Vysotskaya looked genuinely worried, and his expression became almost fawning. “Please, Captain. I beg you to understand, these are hard and stupid men. Discipline must be maintained with a firm hand. Examples had to be made to keep the rest in line.”
Sebastian felt another pang of remorse. He had done the same thing with the men out front. But what else could he have done? If only they had been smart enough to see that he had not been the enemy, but an arbiter of justice. As the commander had said, he must have a fair and impartial hand. He had been harsh with the miners, now he must be harsh with the owner.
“And what was your rationale for refusing to pay the widows what their murdered husbands had earned?” he asked Vysotskaya.
“Well… I mean… they didn’t earn it, did they?”
Sebastian shook his head in disgust. “I see that you have no remorse for your grotesque negligence. I hereby charge you with the murder of…” He looked to the miners. “How many?”
They shrugged.
“The exact number of murders is still to be determined. Rykov, arrest this man.”
“See here now! This is private property! I can do with my workers as I please!”
“It is, in fact, no longer private property,” Sebastian told him. “By the authority invested in me as a duly appointed representative of Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Caterina Morante the First, I strip you of your ownership of Bledney Mines.”
“For what cause?” demanded Vysotskaya.
“For inciting unrest in the populace and creating an atmosphere of rebellion. As of this moment, the empire will assume direct control of Bledney Mines.”
“Don’t you know who I am?” demanded Vysotskaya as Rykov pushed