The sun was high, and the thinning trees offered less protection. Their pace had slowed to a crawl with the addition of more people.

  “That's mine.”

  “Ahh, bitch you bit me.”

  Mia cursed under her breath. Today made her understand why Lady T and Troy were quick to reach for their whips. Most of these people were a handful despite being old and/or infirm. They fought, stole, and gambled. They'd kill if they thought they could get away with it.

  The old lady lunged, grabbing the loaf of bread.

  They went down in a tangle of limbs.

  A circle formed around them. The crowd jeered and encouraged. A little girl weaved in and out of bodies, her arm reaching out to snatch the bread.

  “Hey.”

  The girl darted away.

  The children weren't much better. Some, like Nessa, stayed out of the way and quietly tried to improve their lives, but most had learned the worst habits from the adults around.

  If Mia weren't a scribe and singled out by Troy, her situation would have been desperate.

  As it was, Troy gave her a tent. It was small, and she couldn't stand in it, but it was protection from the elements and elevated Mia’s status. That change in status made gamblers and opportunists hesitate before they tried their luck. It would be even better if she weren't paying for it all.

  When she received the tent, she'd offered to share it with Nessa, but Nessa refused. Instead, she camped in front and tended the fire in the afternoons. She acted as part maid, part secretary.

  Nessa, ever the merchant, had positioned herself as the person they had to go through to get to Mia, for a small fee, of course.

  The whole thing made her conflicted, having someone serve her, but simultaneously it offered Nessa protection. They saw her as useful instead of sheltered and protected.

  “Ben, Troy is calling for you!” Nessa came running from the center of the camp.

  “Coming.”

  “I'll watch the tent, and your lunch will be here when you get back.” Nessa took over the tent setup. “This part of the forest is thin since it's so close to the rest spot, and trying to forage here is pointless. We'll rest today and try our luck tomorrow.”

  Mia nodded. “You're the expert. Use a stick to practice your letters. We'll review what you learned.”

  The journey to Troy kept her on edge. Her situational awareness sharpened every day, and she didn’t like what she saw. She's truly been spoiled. Her original group was laid-back, with everyone minding their own business. They were low-ranking, doing their best to get promoted or earn enough to buy better equipment. These warriors were volatile. Their eyes were crazy, and the air was heavy with tension. They made enough that they didn't care if Mox fined them for fighting.

  The man who'd grabbed her collar and frightened her so much didn't dare to laugh around these men. His group seemed large and dangerous then, but now they tucked their tails and stayed in their tents most of the time.

  Hierarchy.

  Humans understood it. They found their spots and lorded over those below while flattering those above.

  Most of the sacrifices are death row prisoners. The rest are soldiers captured during the war.

  Mia did her best not to think of ‘before,’ but she wondered about Sir Benson and Sir Harris. What would Mox’s ledger say about them? She didn't even need to guess about Lady Adeline’s fate. She’d become a mage, given the highest treatment.

  The mages didn't pay for food and water. Once identified, Mox offered them a contract. They had choices. The warriors fell into different categories. Some received the highest level of sincerity, while others were a step up from scavengers.

  Mia wished she'd gotten a boon or awakened some power. Her circumstances and treatment would have been better. Even a little household magic was an asset.

  It was fanciful, a waste of time. It was better to invest more effort and see where that got her.

  Troy’s tent was in the second ring. That's where the Second Division commanders lived. Mox was the head of logistics. Troy led the scavengers. Michael headed the warriors. Bruce was in charge of the mages.

  There were five divisions, with the First Division permanently stationed in Ashfall.

  Mia approached Troy’s tent. A guard spotted her and ducked his head in. She was waved inside.

  She nodded to the guards.

  They didn't acknowledge her.

  Troy stood over a table with Lady T and another man.

  “Ben, this is Crow. He's in charge of the group you'll be joining.” Troy waved in Crow’s direction. “Crow, that's Ben. He can read and write. He also knows some arithmetic. He's also a skilled hairdresser, if you need that. Fiona wasn’t pleased when I assigned him to the scavengers. Who knew skilled hairdressers were in such high demand?”

  Fiona, she'd heard that name. There was a heavily guarded tent on the outskirts of camp, that's where the attractive people were. They'd be sold to brothels, working off their debts there.

  Mia wanted nothing to do with Fiona.

  “She,” Crow said, his grey eyes seeing through her.

  “He. He's paid to have his name changed.”

  Mia blinked. When? She took a deep breath, holding before slowly releasing. Mox. He’d lied to Nessa for her. Not out of the kindness of his heart. An Investment, everything here had a price. “How much do I owe?”

  Troy smiled, his eyes amused.

  “Four thousand five hundred. The name change was fifteen hundred. The rest is food, water, and other conveniences afforded to someone of your position.”

  Another deep breath. “Okay.” She’d panic later, in her tent, alone, where it was unlikely to cost her anything.

  “Chin up,” Lady T said. “It's not all bad. You pay ten percent for handling fees and go home with half of your earnings. Plus, middle management gets discounts and bonuses that other people don't.” Lady T leaned in closer, doing a fake whisper. “If it's not too much, we'll look the other way if you collect a little extra for yourself.” She winked.

  Neither Crow nor Troy’s expression changed. It might be a trap…oh. “How much of that does Mox collect?”

  Crow's expression was approving as he nodded. “Alright. This might work.”

  Troy chuckled.

  “You only have to pay a modest ten percent of any extra income you collect.” Lady T pinched two fingers together.

  “Okay.”

  “So bland,” Lady T said.

  This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “I don't want to end up with a knife in my back. Before I decide, I'll observe the group dynamic. If they're smart, they'll probably give me a cut without me having to ask.” The words didn't come easily. Talking to her superiors like this went against everything they'd taught her. It was counter to what she'd done for the past six years, but Mia needed to change. Intelligent. Polite, not subservient. Respectful without groveling. They might never respect her, but she needed to be respectable.

  “Huh, look at that.” Lady T’s gaze was sharper. “Honestly, I was skeptical when Mox told me what he had planned, but I see the potential. It was touch and go for a while there, in the early days when you were walking around like you'd lost your soul.” Lady T circled her. “What did you do before you came here?”

  “Ma…What's it worth to you?”

  Lady T’s grin made her look disturbed. The jovial look that was always on her face had distorted; still there, but another expression fought to replace it.

  Mia took a step back before stilling. She squared her shoulders and kept her hands relaxed.

  “T, thanks for your help, but it's time you head back and organize your team.” Troy was studying a map on the table.

  “Can you read that?” Crow asked.

  Mia shook her head, then nodded before explaining. “I know the symbols. That's a mountain, and those are hills with a river running through. That's a camp sight.” The young lady…stop. Just stop. “The noble I served showed me the symbols commonly used on maps.” She didn't mean to say that out loud, but the words wouldn't stay inside her.

  It wasn't the betrayal, not really; it was the casual way she'd been discarded, like a scuffed shoe that was one season out of style.

  Troy whistled. “At this rate, I’ll have to thank Mox…Doesn't that sound terrible?”

  Crow nodded.

  Mia agreed, but didn't react. Mox was unlikable. Off-putting, the way he reduced you to the sum of your parts and assigned some arbitrary value.

  “So, have you decided?”

  Crow's gaze was heavy. “I'm not responsible for what happens to her or to the other girl with her.”

  Troy waved his hand. “Don't expect you to be. She looks sturdy, like she'll live for a long time, but if she dies, we'll try again with someone else.”

  I'm right here.

  Mia kept her head up, her gaze blank.

  I'm right here.

  Crow turned to leave the tent, throwing words over his shoulder. “Eat, pack up, and meet me at the main tent in an hour. Oh, bring the girl.”

  “Nessa,” Mia said.

  “If either of you lasts six months, I'll remember your names.”

  ***

  She entered the commander's tent the next second; she was on a blood-soaked battlefield.

  Mia retched.

  Nessa doubled over vomiting.

  The smell was overwhelming.

  Piss, shit, a metallic tang that clung to her tongue.

  The whole place echoed with muffled groans, pleas for death, and shouts for help.

  Vultures circled above.

  Bodies stacked on top of each other, limbs contorted. Flesh strewn on the ground like flowers trampled after a parade.

  It was brutal.

  Mia tried to see the value. She forced herself to scan the field, cataloging what to collect. Armor, money, potions…she shivered, a clawing feeling in her chest, an ache…herbs, weapons, jewelry.

  “Fresh meat?” A booming voice called.

  Mia retched again.

  Enough. Breath. That’s the second time. She couldn’t afford a third. She was competent. She belonged here. She’d do the job. They didn’t need to replace her.

  A large man approached them. He was bald, but had a full beard, the hair braided into three. In one hand, he carried a large axe and in the other a tankard. Behind him, other people gathered around a table, eating and drinking, having a merry time.

  Mia’s stomach turned. How could they stand to eat? How could they laugh? Was that her future?

  “Kerrik, this is our new scribe. I want him to shadow you. Today, he's observing. Tomorrow, he'll scavenge for an hour then set up a table to record the day's loot.” Crow was unfazed.

  “And that,” Kerrik asked, jutting the tankard at Nessa before taking a long drink.

  “They came as a package deal, Mox’s suggestion.”

  That was all Troy needed to say for Kerrik to accept.

  Why was everything Mox said accepted without question? Was that only in the Second Division?

  Kerrik didn't look like a scavenger. Not like the ones she'd met before. He was young and clearly strong. He looked like a warrior with thick muscles and his massive axe.

  Nessa grabbed the edge of Mia's shirt. Wiping at her mouth with her sleeve.

  “Water, please.”

  Mia handed her the canteen. There were no words to comfort her. Even if Mia had them, she wouldn't say them to Nessa. Comfort was poison. It would make her fragile.

  This was their reality.

  Nessa had to get used to it.

  Nessa rinsed out her mouth. Her lips pressed in a tight line, but she didn't look away from the carnage. Her eyes blazed as she soaked it in.

  Mia squeezed Nessa’s shoulder, her gaze approving.

  “Not the first time seeing dead bodies?” Kerrik asked, his eyes on Mia.

  “This is a full circle moment,” Mia said, but didn't explain. She'd never experienced carnage like this, but she was familiar with the stench of rot. It was like she’d never left. Alley or battlefield, rot smelled the same, only the scale changed, and her role in it. “What happens now?”

  “Simple, really. Take anything and everything.”

  The people she’d seen approached. Their steps were loud and their voices excited. They were like Kerrik, young enough and healthy. Their clothes were heavy linen or leather.

  Easy to clean.

  All of them wore gloves and carried spears.

  Crow broke away, approaching them. “You know the drill. Stay safe and don't be stupid. I'm watching you. Especially you, Bright. That crap you pulled last time, you're on thin ice.”

  They laughed, bumping shoulders. Bright was a twenty-something man with blond hair and green eyes. They patted him on the back and rubbed his head. His smile was proud. Whatever he'd done, they respected him for it.

  “Alright. Alright. Don't encourage him, or he'll do it again. If I quit, one of you will have to do my paperwork.”

  “Not happening, boss!” Someone shouted.

  “I’ll do it if I get your house!”

  “Calm down!” Crow pointed at people as he spoke. “Fin, Dagger, Lucas, Amy, and Molly, you're on armor duty, come collect a storage space. Try to get undamaged pieces. Those cock-suckers from Purog-forji have stopped taking our orders. Negotiations are underway, but there's no telling when we'll be able to have the damaged pieces fixed or melted.” The five people stepped forward, taking and slipping rings on their fingers.

  “This is Ben, he’s a scribe assigned to record the crap you find. Treat him well.” Crow clapped. “That's it, short and sweet. Get to work.”

  They descended on the corpses like jackals, hungry for something else.

  Teeth bared.

  Stab.

  Bend.

  Pick.

  They spread out, eyes watching each other, territory divided without words.

  They worked with practiced ease.

  They didn't make a sound.

  Stab.

  Bend.

  Pick.

  “What are they doing?” Nessa asked.

  “Making sure they're dead.” Mia pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth. Could she do that? She'd never considered that, taking a life. Not really.

  Kerrik laughed, patting her on the back. “Smart. It would be better if you were sturdier. You're a bit runtish, but you're young. You’ll bulk up.” He was heavy-handed, and she stumbled forward. “I’m Kerrik.”

  “I’m Ben. This is Nessa.”

  “Follow me, Ben, Nessa. I'll show you what to look out for in this buffet.” He stormed off. Their pace was slower.

  Buffet. That explained their behavior, the food, the laughter. It was just another feast to them.

  Nessa hung back. “There's something wrong with them.”

  Kerrik's broad back was in front of them. He had a bounce in his step and hummed a low tune. Their weapons and clothes signaled a comfortable financial situation. They'd probably paid off their debts.

  “They want to be here.” Or they’d stayed long enough that this became normal.

  Nessa’s nose wrinkled. “But…”

  “Ness, in six years, when you're healthy and have worked off your debt, and if you decide not to leave the scavengers, that’s probably what you’ll look like.”

  “Why wouldn't they want to do something else?”

  The fighting was over. This was what came after, the harvest. They were the same as the vultures circling, picking meat from bones.

  Bright eyes, nimble fingers. “They’re gamblers, thrill seekers. Out here it's high risk, high reward.”

  “Check the teeth,” Kerrik shouted at them, swinging his axe down. The head flew and rolled to their feet. “Gold’s worth more than armor, and if you're lucky, they’re enchanted.”