Chapter 2 - Work
They had Stalebread, some spices, a mushroom or two, and a three day old Knifefish in the tiny "cellar" - a hole dug to a depth where the food could be kept cold.
Ashanty was walking slowly behind the children. They were all walking slowly, but for the kids, it was still "pretend." When they arrived one of their neighbors was just entering his house. Thirty paces or so to the left from the entrance to Thorvald's place, a door ratcheted into the mud-wall of one of the banks that rose in the Third Deep intermittently, over the muddy, wet earth where the Stream's water, and the water from the walls of the cave all around them, dripped and puddled.
It was always wet, except in the later hours of the day, when the dripping would stop.
"I get fish," - she said, as they entered the triangular space made by three beams that jutted out of the mud and the rock.
Thorvald's house was a tent. A tent made from old hide and old fabric made long ago, in a place out of place, and time out of time. He had gotten it... well, Ashanty didn't know how he had gotten it; she only knew that here, beneath a pillar that rose for , and a large piece of metal that jutted out of the mud, and a rock at the back, he had made his house.
The tent was large enough so you could stand, at least in the middle. The fabric of the cloth or hide (and it was both) was heavy, and it was large: large enough for five of them to sleep comfortably inside. It had a hole at the top from which smoke could waft when they lit a fire. But when it was especially damp Thorvald put a funnel he made down from the top, and onto the embers. That was the most important thing: to keep the coals hot but
Anyway: making smoke was looked upon harshly by the surrounding inhabitants. Especially the ones that lived Up - they would curse, and yell at you from above, and sometimes spit or even piss. Some would, if especially angry, throw rocks or mudballs.
As they entered at sat near the fireplace in the middle, they were still quiet. Ashanty . She would use the onion. Yes. She hid it deep in the hole, kept it near her when she slept. It would do them good. But the main thing she was thinking about was - work. She needed it. Now that Thorvald was dead, and sooner than she expected, all her thoughts about getting work bubbled up again.
Because Thorvald was a carpenter, an artisan, a fisher, he could get most of the things they needed. Yes, she helped, but it in the end it was all up to him. A carpenter was relatively prized, even here, in the Third Deep. Since wood was a commodity, especially the wood that hadn't soaked up moisture and water until it's insides were almost completely rotten. And even though some of the groups had their own artisans, they'd often call him over to help, or just give his opinion. And since they charged a pretty penny, Thorvald's services were in demand when the poorest of the poor needed something done. And that was enough to assure his Place, enough to earn, if not coin, then something in trade.
And now he was gone.
Marie looked up from the tiny table the children had brought out:
"Is that an onion?" - her eyes shone as she watched Ashanty cook.
"Yes."
"Will get salt!" - she whispered in excitement, and scrambled towards her nap-sack.
Ashanty yelled at her how she got it, but Marie wouldn't tell. And Ashanty wasn't that interested at the moment. She needed work, the thought throbbed in her mind, but she knew it would be - complicated. Thorvald had taught her much, but not enough, and even that was forbidden. Because she was a slave, because she bore the mark, on her upper arm, beneath her left shoulder, she wasn't allowed to be taught, not allowed to know a trade or a skill. It was forbidden. It was Taboo. Even here, in the Third Deep, she would get in trouble. The only thing to do was a Declaration, or a bribe, but that required... much. That required... a lot. A lot of work, a lot of pay - whether in coin or in other things - and worst of all, a lot of attention. And that was the last thing she wanted.
As the water in the pot boiled, Marie jumped towards her, and grabbed her by the leg and waist.
"Can I help?" - she asked, a tiny pouch in her hand.
"Yes," - said her fathers slave.
Anik had now led her/his brother to the table as well. It would be soon be time to eat.