Chapter 496: Mercenaries 2
Chapter 496 – Mercenary 2
A long and loud whistle sounded, making the entire atmosphere of the coal mine seem to be energized by it, signifying the end of the day’s work.
The workers – or inmates – stopped what they were doing, and one by one, they twisted their heads and bent over, stretching themselves.
After allowing their tense muscles to relax a bit after a long day, the inmates made their way in twos and threes to a stream that ran through the camp to wash up. They took off their upper and lower clothing, each one bare-chested and naked – the camp was full of men anyway – and first scrubbed the sweat towels they had used to wipe off their sweat while working in the water, then soaked the towels in water and scrubbed the dirt off their bodies by the handful.
Doug was scrubbing his body as well; he had just stopped shoveling coal and was covered in black soot, for which he had first gone back to his quarters to fetch a clean change of clothes to wear, and cast the soot-covered garment along with his body as he cleaned it.
After cleaning, put on clean clothes Doug body for a one of the relief, a day’s work has accumulated fatigue has been removed most of the.
“Boss Doug!”
A lowered-voiced greeting came from behind, and a guy with the same slab of hair, but a bit of a thieving look appeared from nowhere.
Doug looked around to see that no one was looking his way, then yanked the visitor to an out-of-the-way corner.
“Patton, you goddamned son of a bitch, I can’t wait for you to get here, how’d it go?”
“Switched back.”
The visitor pulled a small clay vial from his pocket and carefully handed it to Doug.
Doug took it and brought the bottle up to his single ear and shook it gently, and there was a sound of liquid tumbling from inside.
Doug said, disgruntled, “That’s all there is? We’ve saved up so much coal.”
Patton said in frustration: “Boss Doug, it’s not my fault, the new one is too greedy, his heart is blacker than the blackest coal I’ve ever seen, and he’s raised the price a whole two times.”
Doug’s brow was tightly furrowed, squeezing out creases as if they were a mountain river, his mouth said hatefully, : “Despicable O’er, cunning O’er. Alas, never mind, who made us just fish on the chopping block.”
He picked up the small earthenware vase, with all the attention in his eyes on it. It was just a plain little earth-colored bottle with a cork tightly corked in the mouth. Yet to Doug’s eyes, it looked as if it contained some kind of panacea.
“Oh, I’m counting on you for the rest of the week.”
With that he pulled off the cork with a thud, brought the mouth of the bottle up to his nostrils, and took a big breath.
The scent of the wine that hit his nose sent a wave of relief through Doug’s body and his mouth secreted a large amount of saliva.
His mouth slightly open, gently put the bottle against his lower lip, and then slowly lifted the bottle, inside the life-saving “manna” into a stream flow into Doug’s mouth, suddenly the long-forgotten flavor filled the entire mouth.
Doug did not swallow immediately, but like gargling with this first mouthful of wine repeatedly wash his mouth, so that the wine soaked every corner of the mouth.
It lasted for a full minute before he slightly moved his throat and sent this first mouthful of wine ceremoniously into his esophagus with fondness and care.
“Tsk, tsk, manna!”
Doug barred his lips and exclaimed with a mesmerized look on his face.
Next to him, Patton watched his look-alike boss drink, and could only twitch his nose, doing his best to catch the smell of alcohol in the air as he gulped down mouthful after mouthful of his own spittle.
“Gulp!”
Doug savored a second sip, and this time he didn’t hold it in his mouth for too long, but swallowed it dry.
The third and fourth sips ……
After a full ten small sips, Doug put down the clay pot. At this moment, he was glowing and refreshed, and his eyes were once again sharp, as if the mercenary captain from before had returned.
“Here!”
Doug shoved the bottle to Patton.
Patton used his hand to point it out, haha, there was still a third left.
“Thanks boss! Thanks Boss!”
He was busy nodding his head and thanking towards Doug.
“Come on, don’t let the guards find out.”
“Uh-huh, I’ll fix that!”
Paden lifted the bottle and followed Doug’s lead, taking a small sip to slowly savor a handful before downing the rest in one gulp.
Finally he pulled out a water bladder and filled the bottle with a little water, giving it a little shake before taking another swig from the bottle.
“Ugh! The Austrians are watching too closely, what’s the end of keeping our brothers here? That what’s-his-name Gleeman is too un-aristocratic.”
Both men were refreshed and had the strength to curse the Ordo again.
Ever since they were captured in the War of the Troglodytes, they had been locked up in this hellhole called a labor camp, spending their days with blackened coal.
At first, Doug and the others thought they would either be abused to death or work themselves to death, but to their surprise, they were doing quite well instead — of course, this “well” was in contrast to their initial pessimism.
They had two meals a day, one in the morning and the other in the afternoon: in the morning, “brick bread” made of barley or rye with pickled vegetables, which was a bit gritty and occasionally tasted of sawdust, but was filling, and in the afternoon, two slices of bread with an unlimited amount of vegetable porridge – a kind of paste mixed with vegetables – which they ate in the morning and afternoon. In the afternoon, two slices of bread and an unlimited amount of vegetable porridge – a kind of mushy porridge mixed with vegetables.
A few days a month, the porridge is mixed with minced meat or eggs.
They could also quietly save up some charcoal and trade it with the villagers outside the wall for a drink when the guards weren’t looking.
But it was very unfree, and of course this so-called freedom was not the kind of unrestrictedness that existed before the captivity; unfree meant that the Aldoans were too lenient in their control.
The Aldoans had appointed for them a harsh housekeeping regulation, to mention a few examples:
First, the places where the prisoners lived were required to be kept clean and hygienic, and the guards would raid the dormitories from time to time every day to inspect them.
Secondly, the inmates were required to be in good spirits; beards and the like were not permitted.
If they are found to have failed to comply with the regulations, they will be beaten with a whip or kicked into a small dark room for confinement and starvation.
When more than ten years of mercenary Doug very puzzled, Aldo people this is in the management of prisoners or in the management of the army, even if it is the training of the army, to maintain hygiene, to maintain the personal spirit of the army, that is the royal guards and so on the army need to comply with it.
After so many years of fighting on the battlefield, he was too familiar with what the general army of each country was like, with sloppy living habits and lice all over the body being the norm for ordinary soldiers.
As for the prisoners elsewhere, well, the place they stayed in was a shithole, to put it mildly.
Doug and Patton walked toward their quarters, cursing the perversity of the O’s while bottling up an inexplicable twinge of gratitude in their hearts.
(End of chapter)