The train from Khaghrumer to the mines turned out to be a short ride. Less than half a day after the four dozen prisoners that made up the latest batch of convicts had been herded into two train cars, they were offloaded again. Guards barked instructions at them at various times, but other than the occasional curse, Jonathan understood none of it. Instead he followed Erkom’s lead, as they lined up and were brought into what looked to be a military style barracks. 

In a rapid sequence of events everyone was given picks, boiled leather hard hats, overalls, and then they were assigned a bunk. Well, everyone except for Jonathan. They had very little in his size, and though they were able to find him a pick axe and a bed, he was on his own for the rest. At the same time all this was happening, a smaller group of dwarves was lining up to return all the same things that Jonathan’s group was receiving before filing out the door. Presumably they would then wait for a train to take them back to Khaghrumer, with their debt to society now paid. 

As they were assigning beds, Jonathan watched Erkom very nonchalantly tip the guard a couple of copper 88ths, and gesture to the bed that Jonathan was just assigned. The guard then pocketed the money and assigned Erkom the bunk above his. No one seemed to have any problem with this. Once this was done, the guard left, and inmates were left to their own devices until they were due to report in the mines. This naturally made Jonathan the center of attention. 

“They’ll be along to take us to chow soon,” Erkom said, changing into his coveralls. 

“I can’t believe you bribed that guard like that,” Jonathan whispered conspiratorially, leaning close to the dwarf so no one else could hear. “It was—”

“Easy Jon,” Erkom said, suddenly cross like what Jonathan had said offended him. “Bribery is a very serious charge. It’s sneaky, underhanded, dishonorable, and it just so ye know - it happens to be illegal.”

“I’m confused,” Jonathan answered. “If you weren’t bribing him, then what was that?” 

“It was a tip,” Erkom shrugged. “Bribery is illegal, ye understand? But tipping people to get on their good side is very common. Normal even. I just expressed that I’d like to be close to my friend, the human, in case someone decided they wanted to try somethin’, and he thought I made a good point. That’s all.” 

“I see,” Jonathan said, even though he didn’t really. Paying for preferential treatment was literally the definition of a bribe as far as he knew. This was just another weird area of dwarven culture that didn’t quite square with his experience - that’s all. 

Jonathan wanted to debate the issue further, to try to understand the glaring difference, but before he could continue another set of guards came in, yelled at them until everyone lined up, and then marched them off to a mess hall. There they were served various colors of slop on tin trays with a wooden mug of warm beer. Erkom complained about the quality, but for once Jonathan didn’t mind. This wasn’t any worse than the leftovers he’d been eating for months, and he already had no idea what he was eating half the time. So instead of complaining about it like half the table was doing, he just ate everything in front of him. It wasn’t so bad. 

While dwarves ate, they eyeballed him, and tried to make heads or tales of the man in their midst, but Jonathan did his best to ignore them, focusing on his meal. That turned out to be the correct strategy, because a few minutes later they were herding them into the mine. Jonathan had feared that the mine would be so small that he wouldn’t be able to fit, but the main passage was a multi level affair full of shoring and scaffolding to follow the main salt body, and the smaller passages were mostly wide enough for two carts to travel abreast, and tall enough that he had to duck only slightly. 

Carts quickly became Jonathan’s job. He’d always known that he wasn’t as strong as the dwarves he worked alongside day after day, but a few minutes with a pick axe, digging salt out of the wall quickly showed him how big the gap really was. 

Erkom could mine his weight in salt every few minutes, but for Jonathan it would have taken at least an hour. The only advantages he had were height and weight, and the only place down here he could really put that to use turned out to be pushing the heavily laden carts back up the rail and out of the mine. The track grade was gentle, and dwarves could push them almost as well as him, but his limbs gave him superior leverage to get the carts to the waiting sifters, where they separated the salt they wanted from the sand and gravel they didn’t. Jonathan took a quick break and watched another crew load up full barrels on the other side of the machine before a guard nudged him along to go back for more. 

That was Jon’s job now. Bring out a full cart. Tip it into the chute. Bring back an empty cart. Repeat. For the next watch, all he did was repeat that laborious task 3 or 4 times an hour, until his back ached and his calves burned. This was his life now, he supposed. For the next 30 days, all he would be doing was hauling salt for hours at a time. In any sensible mine that task would be done by a mule, Jonathan reasoned, which he supposed made him the jackass. He had a good laugh when he figured that one out. Pushing the carts was exhausting work, but the harder part was following the same trail over and over again so he didn’t get lost. The place was a labyrinth, and Jonathan worried less about someone getting the jump on him in the semi dark of the side passages than getting lost and never finding his way out again

On his last trip out, the steam whistle blew. Initially Jonathan wasn’t sure what the signal meant, but when he saw dwarves pouring out of the mine he figured out that it was quitting time. So, he waited patiently for Erkom and the other dwarves they’d been working with to come out, and then he walked with them back to the cellblock. 

“Enjoy yer first day of real work, did ye, Jon?” Erkom asked as he fell in alongside them. Jonathan had known he was exhausted, but it was only when Erkom asked, that he realized how tired he really was. 

It wasn’t too much hotter here than it was in Khaghrumer, and he’d long grown used to that part. This was the first time he'd really exerted himself since Fedon had beaten him though, and he knew he’d regret all this exertion in the morning. He didn’t say anything about that. That wasn’t how dwarves were. Instead he just answered with “I’ll be fine.”

“Right ye will,” Erkom said, playing with the thick braid of his beard to get some of the sand out of it. “Dirty business like this - it puts hair on yer chest, and whiskers on yer chin.” Jonathan laughed at that, making the conscious effort not to touch his face. At some point in the months since Boriv had left he’d started to grow a few sparse whiskers of his own, which had occasionally led to no end of grief from the repair crew about his beard. Jonathan had no doubt that Erkom was looking to start that back up but he wasn’t going to fall for it. 

The conversation between them was light, and a couple of the other dwarves they’d spent the shift with eventually chimed in as they walked. Rather than feeling like the hell hole Jonathan had feared this place would be, it was really just like any other job he’d done down here, only slightly more exhausting. At least that was the case until they got back to the chow hall. Once there they sat down with their plates, and Jonathan got to work eating his assigned slop, but this time he couldn’t help but notice that there were more eyes on him than last time, and that they were staring harder. 

Something had changed between earlier in the day and now, and Jonathan wasn’t the only one that felt it. “Come on lad - let’s go back to our bed a bit early.” Erkom said a minute later even though he was only halfway done with his meal. Jonathan was going to protest, but when he saw the hard look in the dwarf’s eye he just got up and followed him out of the room. As he left he noticed almost a dozen dwarves left to follow them. They didn’t try anything immediately, but as soon as they got back to their cellblock, the other dwarves fanned out, preventing any escape. Jonathan was still wondering what was happening exactly, but when Fedon showed up with the group it all became clear. 

There was a brief but loud conversation between the ring leader of the dwarves that looked like they wanted to break him down piece by piece and Erkom, but eventually Erkom turned to Jonathan. “Yer old friend has been tellin’ tall tales about ye to strangers, lad, and now they want to give you what you deserve.” 

“Deserve?” Jonathan asked, “For what? I didn’t do anything.”

“Not the way he tells it,” Erkom said, chuckling. “He told them ye tried to blow up a train with yer magic to cover yer escape so that ye could make off with all our dwarven secrets.” By the time Erkom was done talking, he was having trouble keeping a straight face, though Jonathan suspected that was as much from the look of consternation he was giving him as the ridiculous story. 

“But that’s not what happened at all!” Jonathan protested. He raged for a moment, but then with Erkom’s translation help, he told the angry mob his version of events. He told them about the goblin hunt, and the train explosion. He told them about how he’d fixed engines and saved lives, and then the only dwarven secrets he knew were a few colorful curse words. This last revelation drew more than a few laughs, and after that most of the stone men dispersed, no longer interested in a human that could barely even speak their language. 

A couple remained behind though, and Erkom translated their request “They want to see ye do that trick with the fire Jon.” Jonathan reached out his arm - happy to demonstrate his powers, but Erkom grabbed his hand and pulled it back down. “Careful lad. This compound here - it’s the property of the temple of law, so a part of the city, and ye know what the rules are, don’t ye?”

Jonathan had already reached out, feeling the fire around him and pulling it towards him, but he quickly released it. The last thing he wanted in his whole life was to be back before a dwarven magistrate, explaining why he shouldn’t be put to death for doing the right thing. “Got it. No using fire in here or the mines,” he agreed. 

“Oh no lad,” Erkom corrected him. “The compound is off limits, but the mines aren’t a part of the city. Anyone tries to give ye trouble in there, and as far as I’m concerned ye can burn them to a crisp just for the fun of it.” Jonathan found those words morbid, and more than a little disturbing until it occurred to him that those words probably weren’t meant for him. He was just making sure that any dwarf that thought to try something in the shadows that the human among them would never truly be unarmed.