The third drags, but only because the others grow weary. I've always been brawny, but today, the purpose pumping through my veins makes me far stronger.
That is, until I look over and see the other laborers struggling. They are panting and sweating, defeated.
It hurts my soul.
I spot one of the boys in the same team as the man who was whipped. The boy is small, dirty, and frowning, while the man has dried flaking blood all down his back. I approach and find them standing around a single tree fallen across the snowy forest. There’s no way in the world above or below that they can chop a second.
I turn back to my group. "I will return soon to help you carry.”
My footfalls are heavy when I reach the next group, huffing. They look up at me. A few of their gazes drop to the ax hanging in my hand.
"Let me help," I say.
They narrow their eyes.
The young boy is the first to speak. "You want to get killed?"
"I saw him speaking to the foreman. Likely, he wouldn't be killed, but we will be. And they'll still get our lumber."
My skin crawls with anticipation. "Please, I just want to help."
Looks pass between each of them.
Then, at last, a cohesive“fine”passes their lips.
Relief.
I tell the other cutter to get in place and get back to work. The afternoon is long, and my muscles strain until I fear they will tear.
But somehow, pulling on the strength of my magic, I help them cut two different trees.
When we are all taken back to the clearing, I feel lighter. Better.
While I saved my group and another, I see the pile of timber much less full than it needs to be. Many accomplished what was necessary, but many did not.
The same desperation bubbles up in the space between my bones and flesh. As we are sorted between those that pass and those that do not, I bite the inside of my cheek.
Eneko is, surprisingly, absent from this ordeal. He’s gone.
With Melisa.
My agony is compounded with the fact that more than fifty of our three hundred men stand on the other side of the yard, awaiting their death.
I picture their blood staining the ground. I picture Melisa kissing that horrible man.
It shreds my heart, my lungs, my head.
Somehow, something needs to stop. When I start to take a step forward, Abet stands in my way.
"I didn't stop you before, but I will now. You saved seven men today. Let it be enough."
I look at him long and hard while my insides churn in pain.
What is seven in the face of three hundred? What is it compared to ten thousand?
My thoughts never find an answer as the guard calls out, "We will now all go to the racks. Attendance is mandatory."
And thus we go.