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Shattered	By : TarnishedArmour Category: G through L > Labyrinth Views: 7713 -:- Recommendations : 2 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Based upon the work of Jim Henson; specifically Labyrinth, copyright 1986 by Jim Henson & associated parties. I do not own or have legal rights to Labyrinth, etc., or make any profit from them. *Individual disclaimers for other works in

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
Sarah worked without complaint. There was no time to complain. There was no time to sleep or eat, though Yancey made everyone do just that.
"No mistakes," he said when Greely started to argue. "We can't afford mistakes in here. You should know that, miner."
"Yes, Master," Greely said through gritted teeth. The way he slammed his tools into place in the side shaft and stomped over to the tables that had been set up for the workers to eat indicated that his agreement was not willing.
Yancey shook his head as Sarah considered the title. She followed him when he indicated they should go eat, grateful to stop lifting and turning and digging. She hurt in places she didn't think she could hurt.
"May I ask a question, Yancey?" Sarah asked when they had gotten plates and found a place at the trestle table. They were almost alone. Yancey had insisted that everyone else take shifts of no more than six hours, and then rest for the next shift. It was a gruelling pace, and not one he had kept himself. He had waited until the second shift was well underway before taking his own rest. He had forgotten that Sarah was bound to his side, by edict of Elder Shan. Yancey nodded. "Why did Greely call you master?"
Yancey grinned. "I'm a Master Miner, Sarah. Greely is a miner, but he's far from Masterwork yet. Still too hot-tempered." At Sarah's confused look, he explained. "You know the ranks, don't you?"
"Apprentice, Journeyman, Professional, Master, and Guild Master, right?" she asked after a long moment.
"Roughly. For miners, replace the middle rank you gave with just 'miner'. For Guild Master, use Grand Master. Anyway, Greely has a long time to go, even though he is very good. Flamestar gems are not the most forgiving stones to mine. No one in this mine is under the rank of miner. There are about three dozen of us who are Masters, then three Grand Masters."
"Where do the children learn, then?" Sarah asked, knowing that villages like this one generally had some sort of training for the young, even if it wasn't for the main industry. This village had several professions in it, but by-and-large, mining was the trade and life.
"This is the most dangerous mine we work, but there's a light-crystal and gemstone mine that we use for training." Yancey gave her a tired smile. "Now, eat, drink some water, and let's go to the cots that have been set up for us. In six hours, we do it again."
Sarah nodded, feeling the urgency of the people. Some had stopped digging and set up the amenities, such as they were, in the caves. The entire village was on shifts, but so far there had been no one rescued and no bodies recovered. Cave-ins were unfamiliar territory for Sarah, but she had picked up from the way the entire village forgot about her and worked in the caves that rescues were time-sensitive. She managed to finish eating and walked over to the cots with Yancey. She stretched out before laying down, knowing if she didn't she would regret it when she woke. When her head touched the pillow, she was already asleep.
The next day, Sarah's group opened a small tunnel to the other side of the caved-in section. Yancey looked at the size of it and shook his head.
"Too small. Elisa, go get the second set of tunnel supports. We've got to make it larger hole before we can send someone through it, but I don't want to lose this opening-" He indicated the small arched sections that had been dug into promising dig-sections of the massed earth and rock. It reminded Sarah of the barrel-vaults of Roman architecture, probably the only structure that could support the weight of the rock without failing and crushing the diggers inside. The end of the opening was low to the ground, perhaps eighteen inches high. While the low tunnel was long, almost twenty feet, it was still half-filled with earth when it was shoved forward and the second support was placed over it. As the end was pushed through, the next section was widened out so the miners could dig a supported tunnel they could carry or guide the people inside through. As each section was added, a bucket-line grew larger. There were ten of these tunnels started, but only one had broken through.
"I can fit," Sarah said, eyeing the tunnel.
"The tunnel has to be cleared," Yancey told her, shaking his head. You'll have to work flat to the ground."
"I can do it. I'll scoop out the earth by the bucket and…" She stopped, seeing a problem. "Do you have any hooked poles? Something I could put the bucket on so you can take out the earth?"
"We've got some light metal poles we use to drill," Tabor said, eying Sarah. "One of those could be hooked by the smith."
Yancey nodded and another man took off to get the drill and the smith.
"Once you go into the tunnel, you won't have room to turn around. If you have to come out, you'll have to come out feet first. I'll manage the hook for you."
"If you'll hand me a small crystal and let me drag a satchel of water, I can go in and see…" Her words trailed off. She wanted to see what was in store for her in the tunnel, but she'd find out soon enough. It was more important not to screw this up. "What tools will I need?"
"A hand-pick. Use that to soften the earth, then you'll use the scoop-end bucket to pull out the section of earth. Over here," Yancey took her to the side and showed her how to use these tools, the bucket especially. The hand pick was a lot like a pointy stick, only made of metal. It looked like a gardening tool, and she was certain there was a fancy name for it, but she didn't care. One end of the bucket was shaped a lot like a garden shovel, wide and flat with a spaded point. The rest of it was a simple pail with a handle. The angles she put the bucket at had to be precise, since the low tunnel wouldn't allow for much movement or variation.
"Stop if you need to, Sarah," Yancey said, seeing her stubborn expression. She was determined to do this, and he didn't want her to collapse in the tunnel, out of reach.
"I'll be fine," she said. She accepted the pick from Yancey, then a handful of small light crystals that had been freshly charged in the sun.
"Use those," Elisa told her. "It'll be dark in that tunnel, but these will help. And use your mask. This isn't rich earth, it's a dusty mess." While that wasn't news, the kindness of the reminder helped. Sarah wasn't afraid of tight places, but she didn't like the dust flying into her face. It made everything seem so fragile, even the inside of the mineshaft.
Sarah pulled the part of Jareth's shirt that had become her mask over her nose and mouth, accepted the little lights and a skin of water that slipped onto her back and belted in place, a long, flexible reed serving as a straw. The skin added another two inches to her width, but she still had plenty of room to spare in the tunnel.
Yancey looked at her for a long minute. "All right. I'll be behind you in the larger section, working to extend the higher tunnel while you work the hook. You'll have to tell me what you see, because there's no way I'll fit through that little gap." His shoulders and chest were huge with the years of heavy work in the mines.
Sarah nodded and crawled into the tunnel on her belly. She placed a few of the crystals on the sides of the tunnel, which was wide enough for her to stretch one are out completely and not have her body squashed by the opposite side. It took her a long time to scoop out the earth bucket by bucket, but she managed it. Once she was done, she crawled backwards out into the tunnel and sat in the larger section beside Yancey, who had been her advisor and monitor.
"I'm through," she panted, taking a long drink of water from the camel-pack. It was tangy from the taste of the cured skin, but it was still refreshing. She rinsed her mouth out and spat into a bucket of earth as it passed her. No one minded.
"Can you stand going in, Sarah?" Yancey asked, not wanting to ask, but needing to know what was on the other side of that tunnel.
"Yeah," she said. "I can, but I need some information before I do. Once I'm in there, what should I do first?" she asked. Several of the miners who hadn't liked her when she was first dragged in had gained some respect for her while she worked. Her willingness to go where they couldn't and clear out the tunnel impressed them, bringing several more to her side of the accusations against her. This question, though, made those who hadn't softened toward her much to take a longer look at her. Greely was one of them. As Yancey told her what steps to do, the skeptical miner watched her listen carefully, nodding and asking for clarification in a few spots. As he listened, he realized that she had worked beside Yancey the entire time, never complaining about any task and pouring herself into every job she was given, no matter how menial. It made him think.
Sarah got all of her instructions and the requested large light crystal and crawled into the low opening. When she reached the lowest section, the one she had just dug that wasn't quite a full eighteen inches high all over, she had to lay flat and pull herself forward with elbows as she pushed with her feet. Once, she had to stop and put her head down as she fought off the urge to turn back and get someone else to do it. She couldn't afford such a weakness now. People were caught in the next section of the cave and no one else could fit through--except a child, and no one wanted a child to see what might be on the other side. Sucking up her fear and the aches of her body, she pushed forward.
And emerged into hell.
The walls were painted dark, rusty red with blood. There were clumps of thicker things tossed around the room. And the smell…
Sarah couldn't help it. She stumbled to the side of the earthen barrier and heaved. Everything she had eaten prior to her shift came back with a vengeance. Somehow, she stifled her screams of horror and forced herself to look around. Glittering shards of fire-red peppered the scene. She saw legs and a head sticking out from under the mound of earth. Thirty yards away, another earthen bank cut off the mine. No one in there was alive. There were six bodies that were mostly whole, but the pools of congealed blood next to them testified to their circumstance.
Sarah made a thorough study of the glittering shards, as Yancey had told her to. One side was more heavily peppered with the crystal bits, but no part of the section was free of them. The pattern was key, Yancey had said. He had listed off the most likely patterns she would see, if a Flamestar gem were accountable for this disaster, and she looked carefully at the heavily crystalled wall to determine the pattern. It looked a lot like a many-armed star, but bulged out on one side and had an odd shape to the center. Knowing that she would never get the exact look across to Yancey, she pulled out the little notebook that stayed with her at all times and made a quick sketch of the pattern. She left out the bloody gobbets of flesh and bone, the sprays of blood, unable to force herself to sketch those into the pattern. She couldn't see how those gruesome bits would help determine what happened, either. She tore the page from her little notebook and stuffed it in her jerkin. Then she crawled back through the tunnel, not noticing the blood she had crawled through decorating her skin and clothes.
Back on the other side of the tunnel, she looked at the hopeful faces around her and felt the tears sting her eyes. "I'm sorry," she choked. "No one…made it."
Men and women began to weep, some quietly, some with deep, racking sobs. Yancey wasn't immune to the news. It took him a long minute to compose himself and dash the tears from his eyes before he drew her though the cross-cut into the area he'd had cordoned and curtained off as his office and gently questioned her about the other side of the cave-in. Sarah gave her answers through chattering teeth, the cold of shock setting in as she spoke. It was Greely who, sticking his head in to say a full-tunnel excavation was in progress and asking if Yancey wanted Misko to take over for the day (the answer was yes), noticed her shaking and brought a blanket and hot drink to her.
"Here," he said roughly, placing the dusty blanket over her as carefully as he would a child. "Drink this, too. It'll help."
Sarah nodded and thanked him, letting the cloth and beverage, a mulled wine, warm her as she continued to talk with Yancey.
"Do you remember the pattern," he finally asked.
With a shaking hand, Sarah pulled out the little page from her notebook. The sketch was quick, but accurate.
"There were no remains with these shards?" Yancey needed to know for determining the exact series of events in the mine.
"I left out the…bits of people." She felt the tears come at last. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you needed them. I can go back-"
"No!" Yancey cried, appalled, pulling her into his arms. "No, Sarah. You've done more today than most would dare." He held her for a long time, whispering soothing words to her and letting her weep against him for people who hadn't wanted her here. Her compassion amazed him. Perhaps that was why, when she had stopped crying and was simply resting against him, he pulled back from her and kissed her gently on the lips. Sarah felt the touch of lips on hers and all of the pain, fear, and shock she had received that day was suddenly channelled into another emotion.
They sank to the cot to one side of the office, suddenly needing to prove they were still alive. It was fast and rough and she really shouldn't have found pleasure from it, but the feel of a man--this man--over her and inside her and his tears on her skin and his breath gasping in her ear all worked against her exhaustion and the complete lack of desire between them. The tension that had coiled through her, the pain and the shock and the hellishness of the bloody bits sparkling with shards of gemstone all built as Yancey thrust into her over and over. When she came, it was a surprise and a relief. And something she knew, somehow, she should regret. But she didn't. Sleep claimed them quickly, spiriting away their thoughts and concerns about tomorrow.
Sarah woke up in Yancey's arms. Something had awakened her. She opened her eyes, but couldn't see most of the office. Then felt another presence in the room. She lifted up and looked over to the chair Yancey had at a table he used for a desk and terror spiked through her.
"Jareth!" she whispered. She scrambled off the cot and started to get into her clothes.
"Leave them," Jareth said, his voice distant. Sarah stopped trying to dress, but covered herself with the shirt she held. "Drop it." She did. This was not like court had been. This was…humiliating. She felt dirty and ashamed, standing in front of him, naked, another man's touch lingering on her skin.
"I… The…" she stammered, then stopped, realizing there was nothing she could say to apologize to him. She had forgotten him yesterday, and that was dangerous.
"Hush," he said, one finger covering his mouth as he propped his hand on his chin. "I understand that the accident here was the result of a Flamestar gem exploding."
Sarah nodded, not knowing what else to tell him. In truth, she didn't really know that much, but could guess it was true from the way Yancey had asked all of his questions before… She wanted to throw up.
"I also understand you earned the respect of these villagers with the way you helped them recover the dead in one section." His voice was still distant. He was not about to be kind to her, and she dreaded what might happen.
Sarah looked at him. "I…guess. I just did what needed to be done."
"Yet you did it without complaint. Without holding back." His voice was distant even with that compliment, and that plunged into her heart like a knife. "Commendable."
"Thank you," Sarah finally managed, not knowing what else to say.
"And yet you fall in bed with your jailer," Jareth continued. "Tell me, was he good?"
Sarah cringed. She knew that voice. It was the one he had used to torture her in Mab's lands. "It didn't matter," she said. "I didn't expect it to happen. After the blood and telling him what was in there…it just happened. I didn't think about it. About anything. I…didn't want to think."
"Honesty," he said, nodding. "I appreciate that." Jareth was silent for a long time. Sarah fidgeted. She didn't like it when Jareth was silent like this. "However, there is one little problem," he continued. "You are mine to give now, Sarah. I allowed you the Festival, the position of Lady in the Rites, and Couric, when you were both in my bed. I did not say anything about uncontrolled lust."
Sarah closed her eyes, knowing that something was going to happen, and she wasn't going to like it. Despite the pain of his words, of the situation, she was so wrung out from the previous days that she couldn't cry. No tears would form. She opened them and looked him in the eye when he spoke again.
"I will have to consider this, Sarah, very carefully before I make a final decision." He gave her a cold look. "You will touch no one until and unless I say otherwise. Did he know you were mine?" Jareth asked.
"He saw the mark," Sarah managed, hating herself but knowing better than to try to deceive Jareth. "I don't think he remembered it when we…"
"Fucked?" Jareth finished for her, making her wince. She didn't see him rise and begin crossing the small space. "Nevertheless, he dared to take what was mine, whether he was thinking about it or not. For that…you will both be punished. Him for the taking, you for the giving." He was standing in front of Sarah now. He took her chin in his hand.
"Remember, girl, you belong to me. I do not share lightly." He smiled when Sarah tried to nod. "No," he murmured. "I shall remind you another way." With that, he leaned down and kissed her. Sarah steeled herself for a bruising, rough kiss, but his lips were so gentle on hers that she trembled under the caress. When he deepened the kiss, it remained gentle, delicate. The tears that would not come from his distance and obvious anger returned to her. She was crying by the time he had finished the kiss, aching for him and regretting the night with Yancey. "Will you remember, Sarah?" he whispered in her ear.
"Yes, Jareth," she sighed. "Sire." Her face was still tilted up to his, her eyes closed as she floated on memories of Jareth and his incredible gentless, his astonishing cruelty. She didn't know which she wanted now, the gentleness of his forgiveness or the cruelty for her shame.
Jareth said nothing more. When Sarah opened her eyes, he was gone. Sarah stood there a long time, not understanding all the reasons she cried, but knowing she ached for Jareth to return, for a way to apologize to him.
Yancey stretched on the cot behind her, just beginning to wake.
"Sarah?" he mumbled, still hazy with sleep.
Sarah turned at the sound of his voice and picked up her clothes. She began dressing. Her face was still wet with tears, and he noticed this quickly.
"What's wrong?"
Sarah pulled on her pants and looked at him. He was handsome, in a rough way. Gentle as he could be, given his strength, and a good man. And now he was going to suffer. She didn't know how, but she knew why.
"I'm sorry, Yancey," she told him. "I shouldn't have…let things get so far."
"It's natural," he tried to reassure her. "I've been in situations like this before-"
"With the King's runner?" she asked, lifting her hand to point at the tattoo. "Without his permission? I'm his, Yancey."
Yancey paled. "Oh, may the ancestors help me," he prayed, invoking the spirits said to watch over miners. "I'd forgotten."
"And I'm sorry." She located her jerkin again, picked it up. His next words made her pause.
"Don't be-"
"He is not happy," she cut him off, the emphasis on the pronoun making her meaning clear. "And we will both pay for our mistake."
"Sarah, it was my fault-"
"No," she shook her head violently, holding her jerkin to her. "It doesn't matter who made the first move. It was my responsibility to honour the oath I made, and I didn't. I told him you'd seen the mark, but had probably forgotten it. For your sake, I hope that's true."
"It is," Yancey said, bowing his head. "Can you forgive me, Sarah?"
"I'm not the one who's angry with you," she said, her simple reply leaving no hope to him.
"You will be punished, too, though," he said.
"Yes." The calm acceptance of this situation disturbed Yancey. Sarah saw his face and explained. "I defied him once before, intentionally. He doesn't seem to mind me smarting back or giving him a hard time, but outright defiance… I hope that his reaction is not the same for this mistake as it was for deliberate disobedience."
Yancey said nothing, but he ached. His body was sore and tired, his heart hurt for the miners who'd died, for their families, and now he was responsible for something ill that would come to the girl who had done nothing but give to the village and himself. He didn't care about himself. He watched Sarah finish dressing and go out to see where she was needed. Through the thin cloth walls, he heard her talk to Misko, the Master in charge of this section now, heard Misko send her up to Elder Shan and the healers.
Determined to take all of the blame he could from her, Yancey rose stiffly and dressed. He needed to speak with Elder Shan.
After speaking with Sarah, Jareth walked out of the mind and translocated himself some distance from the activity, searched for his sisters who were tending to the wounded and called them to the side. Once they were beside him and out of sight of the villagers, he pulled them into the broken moments.
"Tell me," he said, giving no indication of interest in them or anyone else.
"The first section, everyone survived. About twenty are seriously hurt, but the other ten are fine, just starved for air. The second section…it was bad." Marta explained what she had heard, and Giely added what she had gone to see.
"I went to check on the second section when we got the report back. There were remnants of nearly forty miners in there, most of them not bigger than your hand." Eyes narrowing, Giely continued. "And Sarah was the first one through the tunnel. She volunteered to go first so the others could continue working on the expansion. She went through there, not knowing what would be on the other side. From what I hear, she went into shock, but she never stopped giving the information to Master Yancey."
Jareth said nothing, gave no indication that he'd heard. "Very well. Will the mine return to operational status again soon?"
"You little cretin!" Marta exploded. "The village has lost a sizeable amount of its workforce, the villagers are in mourning, the mine is in shambles and all you want to know is when they'll start again?" Marta slapped him.
"Sister," Jareth said, his voice deceptively calm. "I have always been lenient with you, because you knew your place. Do not forget it now." The fire in his eyes made his voice more terrible for its quiet.
Marta stepped back, stricken. "Jareth, I'm sorry," she whispered. "The pain--it gnaws." Marta was heavily empathic, which is why she made such a good healer and the people came to her for help with personal problems. Giely was more of the martial talent, though she was still loved by the people, they were more wary of her than of Marta.
"Yes," he agreed. "I am not immune to the suffering of my people or my land." He looked off into the distance, toward the north. "And yet time moves on and the kingdom requires the products of this mountain."
"So soon?" Giely asked, knowing he spoke of mounting tensions between the northern countries and the labyrinth.
"Should Sarah become my Queen," he said, acknowledging his interest in her for the first time, "within that year."
"And she moves so quickly?" Marta gasped, amazed. "How long has she run?"
"Less than fifteen sunrises, including the time here in the village. Less than one season-mark including the broken moments." A season-mark was one fifth of the time it took the seasons to turn.
"Amazing," Marta murmured. Giely was stunned.
"The first part of the labyrinth has never gone so quickly," Giely wondered. "The quickest was, what, one season-mark? Nearly twelve human weeks?" Humans had odd notions of time, but their measurements for the sunrises were convenient and used in many areas that the King frequented. Like coffee, the terms had been imported with various humans centuries ago.
"Exactly," Jareth said, his face grim. "Despite her success, she has been…foolish."
"What?" both sisters exclaimed in shock.
"Last night, with the miner," he said, waving toward the mine entrance. "She forgot that she was marked and sworn as mine."
"And so you're going to be an ass and punish them both, I suppose," Marta sighed. "There are mitigating circumstances. It's not like you've been abstaining, now, is it?"
"What I do or do not do is moot. I have taken no oaths." Jareth was unrepentant.
Giely snorted. "Oh, this is priceless. The first woman to make it through Mab's lands with the ability to think, act in a crisis while half-dead from lack of food and water, volunteer to work a cave-in that will give experienced miners nightmares for years to come, and she's going to be punished because she needed to be touched and you weren't convenient." Jareth cocked his head to the side and listened carefully to his sister. "Little brother, you can be such a fucking idiot."
"The oath," he said, closing his eyes in frustration. His crop was bent nearly double in his hands.
"Is up to you to enforce. What will you do, torture her? Send her to the goblin villages for a year? Make her start again?" Giely did not let up, and her words did not ease Jareth's distaste for what he was required to do.
"I can't do that, and you know it," Jareth snapped. "I have already spoken to her. She knows she will…pay for her indiscretion."
"How brutal are you going to be, Jareth?" Marta asked, her voice resigned.
"Brutal?" He shook his head. "You give me no credit for creativity." He looked toward the highest peak of the range, Everwinter Mountain. "She is charged to endure in silence and to give unstintingly. The third charge will remain the same, though she will have a more difficult journey than most. Perhaps she will be…sore when she begins her journey, but I shall not be brutal."
"And for the Master?" Marta asked, understanding Jareth's reasoning and still not liking him for it. She adored her brother, but she did not always like him. This was one of those moments.
"I have not yet decided." Marta and Giely shuddered at the simple statement. Jareth's creativity was legendary, especially with those who had somehow displeased him. There was a tale still circulating about the Bog of Eternal Stench and a bridge, though the details were so varied that no one except Jareth and the man involved knew the entire story.
"He's a good man, Jareth, and one of the few here that took her part when the accusations were flying," Giely reminded him.
"And yet he knew of my mark and chose to ignore it." This time, some of the anger Jareth was feeling seeped through.
"He chose nothing," Marta snapped. "We have learned control, dearly-bought as it was, but he's a man of work. His discipline is not ours, Brother. He is one of millions in your realm subject to needs so sharp that cannot be contained. Affirmation of life, not willful desecration."
"Your point being that I should be gentle with him?" Jareth's eyebrows rose, hovering between cynical and amused.
"My point is that, had I been there, or even the crone who holds the title of elder, his reaction would have been the same. That Sarah is beautiful, that she was hurting…only made it worse for him. In the end, denying their need was impossible." Marta's empathy and understanding of the non-magical people under his rule gave Jareth something to think about. And think he did.
Jareth was silent for a long time. "I will take your words into account when I pass judgement."
"Brother, do not let him lose face here," Marta begged. "He is one of the best we have seen, and young for his rank. If he has seen thirty-five summers, I will be amazed."
"Perhaps I shall offer him a chance at knighthood," Jareth said, baring his teeth in a vicious smile, "since he is such a paragon."
With that, Jareth vanished and his sisters were thrust back into the ebb and flow of time.
"Oh, dear," Giely murmured to her sister. That offer was a series of trials on its own. Their defense of the man and of Sarah seemed only to have made their King and brother more determined to come up with something…creative.
"What have I done?" Marta groaned. The sisters traded worried looks and walked back to the wounded. Once they had returned to their work, having lost only a few seconds to the conversation with the King, their brother, all of their attention was focused on their charges.
Sarah arrived shortly after they had returned to their duties, offering her help with the wounded.
"See to Urlo. Here's water to wash up in before you do." Giely nodded to a wash-station that they had insisted upon for those who were working triage. "He's got some nasty gashes to clean and bandage, but he's strong and good-natured." Giely sent Sarah on her way and watched, eyes desolate, as the girl went about her new task with no sign of the strain she must felt, except a tightness around her eyes and a tightly clenched jaw.
Her brother was not an easy man, now, though once he had been filled with laughter and light, eager to serve his King and Realm. Now, as King, he seemed to vacillate between darkness and light, with no clear division between the two. "Let her succeed," Giely breathed to the wind, begging the labyrinth. "Let her bring balance to our King, to my brother."
With a heavy heart, Giely returned to her work.
***
It took another five days before the village was back to something like normal. The mine was still being cleaned out and shored up, but the burials were over and the people had gone back to their lives. Still, the call for justice had gone unanswered.
Sarah dreaded the answer they would receive, knowing that Jareth would now appear in person to administer his brand of justice. Recalling the events of the night with Yancey, she discovered two things: She did not regret what had happened, only the pain she had brought to Jareth and, by extension, to Yancey.
She ached for Yancey, for he did not know how cruel the King could be. She had had a taste of his cruelty, and, though she had survived and become stronger for it, she was not unscathed. To help the villagers and distract herself, Sarah worked wherever she was needed--in the mine hauling the slipway lines to the dumpsite, with the injured in the village, watching the children while parents rested or prepared the dead--and continued from her waking hour near sunrise until late in the night, when she finally succumbed to exhaustion. If she was too exhausted to think, she was too exhausted to worry. She slept dreamlessly. Never once did she utter a complaint or refrain from offering her aid.
On the morning of the sixth day, the bell tolled slowly and solemnly for the villagers to meet in the hall. The crystal had returned the night before, and the call for justice had been answered. Elder Shan had let other know that today, the sixth day, would be the day of judgement.
The people filed in to the hall, Sarah walking between Marta and Giely. She was not bound this time, nor was she the victim of hateful glares. Several people smiled warmly at her, others coming up to her to greet her. She returned the greetings, the handclasps, the smiles. When she looked up to the table where the elders sat, she saw no table and only one man. Jareth.
Dread filled her. She knew he had reviewed everything about the accusations--Marta had explained the workings of the call for justice to her yesterday when the news of the crystal's return had been taken to the small cottage. Now she knew that he had sent a memory crystal to Elder Shan and Elfric had been questioned at length. She knew the others had been required to project their memories into the crystal. She knew, from Marta's additional comments about her being marked, that he did not need her to testify. Everything she had done was recorded from the time she had accepted his mark, and so it would be until the day she died. She could not manage to conjure outrage about this new information.
Such was the price of dreams.
"Sarah Joy," that familiar, beloved voice rang into the air. The village went silent. "You have been accused of several crimes by these villagers. Before I render judgement, I would ask the people of the village if their accusations remain."
One man, a man who had called for her blood, stood from the crowd.
"Sire, when we sent that crystal to you, we didn't know much about this girl. We thought she was from the north, wanting to know about the mines. We thought…well, we thought a lot of things. We don't think that way about her now. She's a good woman. We'd like to withdraw the complaints."
"Really?" Jareth drawled, looking at the elders. "Is this so?"
"Master," Elder Shan said, rising from his chair with unsteady movements, "I was faced with a choice: Watch the village tear itself apart over a slip of a girl who didn't know there were villages here in these mountains, or call for justice and keep the peace. I chose the latter. If I have offended-"
"Enough," Jareth cut him off. "A call for justice is not an offense, especially in a village that calls so very rarely. There is no offense in choosing to keep the peace while a higher authority works through the problem." Jareth's gaze swept the room. The villagers were respectful, but not deferent. He expected no less from those who chose the harsh life on Granite Mountain. Hardy souls mined and guarded the deadly Flamestar gems, and hardy souls did not fawn or cower before him. He understood their brand of respect, and did not castigate them for it. "Though the charges have been dropped, I will tell you now that the judgement was this: Sarah Joy was innocent of the charges brought against her and was to be recompensed for her jailing, the roughness of her treatment, and her time lost while running the labyrinth. This judgement for her still stands. The villagers will provide a pack with preserved meats and travelling bread, dried fruit, and a waterskin that is enchanted to fill from a well here in the mountains."
The people murmured in acceptance of this judgement. Several people were nodding, planning to add a few things to her pack, just in case she had need of them.
"Further, for her deeds here, she is to be recognized in the litany of heroes for this town. Do any here object?" Jareth was surprised to have his pronouncement greeted with smiles. He was careful not to show his surprise. "Are there any other concerns in this matter?"
"Sire," said a woman, standing. Sarah recognized her as Elfric's mother. "I would like to name her as sister."
"Sarah, do you accept this offer of kinship, to become this woman's sister in all but the circumstances of birth, to be named blood-kin and so be attached to her line forever?" There was something in Jareth's voice that Sarah couldn't place. She didn't know how rare this was, that even though Jareth had spent years here as a young man and knight, he had never been offered a place among the villagers.
"Sire, I am honoured that she would think so highly of me," Sarah replied, surprised by the offer. She turned to look at the standing woman. "Yes, I accept, and--Ylna, may I call you sister?"
Ylna nodded, tears standing in her eyes as she walked forward and embraced Sarah. "For as long as we either of us live," she whispered.
"And after," Sarah whispered back, smiling and feeling her eyes tear up at the same time.
Fender stood up next. "I wronged thee, Sarah Joy, when I had thee bound and brought to trial. Ylna, my sister," by marriage, though that distinction wasn't a concern now, "would bring you into our family, and, if you'll allow it, I would like to call you sister, too."
Sarah said nothing, but held out her hand to him. Fender came over and embraced his sisters, which opened the gates for a flood of children, led by Elfric, to come running to hug her, followed by many of the villagers. Jareth watched as Sarah became part of a village she well may never visit again, part of the warp and weft of the lives of these people. He smiled. Such was the making of a Queen.
Slowly, the furor died down and the villagers returned to their seats. Jareth hated what he had to do next, but he could not leave his work half done.
"There is another matter," he said slowly, his eyes sweeping the room. Sarah closed her eyes. "Yancey, come forward."
Pale, the Master Miner rose and walked to stand next to Sarah.
"It has come to my attention that you, Yancey, and you, Sarah, shared a bed on the third night of the dig-out." Murmurs of surprise rippled through the room.
"Sire," came a voice from the back, "all of us went to comfort that night." The voice was quiet, but unabashed. It was Greely who spoke in her defense. "Not all of us went back to our wives or husbands," he added, looking at the pair standing before Jareth. "If this be now a crime, there are others here who will pay the same penalty."
"No, this is not a crime," Jareth said, taking a deep breath. "The need for comfort was brought to my attention, and I do appreciate it. Sarah and Yancey were within their rights to seek an affirmation of life." He paused. "Even so, there is an exception to this particular pairing, for Sarah is marked and sworn as mine alone. She did not…appeal to me prior to accepting another's embrace. Yancey, I understand, you were aware of my mark," he added. It wasn't a question.
"Sire, I was aware of the mark, but I had forgotten it. She was…hurting, as was I. I gave no thought to anything other than easing pain, not to you, to my…wife." Sarah winced as she heard, for the first time, about his wife. More guilt piled on her for causing or contributing to a nasty domestic situation. "She forgave me, Sire. I won't beg you to do the same, though. I accept my fault in this, and hope you spare Sarah. She was…distraught."
"I was upset, but I should have…remembered," Sarah said quickly. Jareth could see that she was remembering far more brutal experiences that had not changed her mind or her actions for two weeks. "Please, Jareth. I take the blame. Let me take any punishment you have devised"
Jareth rocked back on his heels, his riding crop scepter tapping lightly against his boot. Sarah knew that reaction. It was not what she would describe as comforting.
"Well, well," he murmured, staring at the pair. "A pretty picture, each asking the other to be spared." He was silent for a moment, sensing the mood of the crowd. He was not immune to the tension surrounding him, of the anger that could build and flash into being as quickly as a Flamestar gem could explode. "My judgement is this: Sarah shall, with Yancey, take the focus-stones mined for the magicworkers and their shipment of light crystals to the Lady of the Mountains. Once there, Yancey will be free to return. Sarah shall remain with the Lady, at her service, while she examines the stones."
Sighs of relief filled the room. A bit of creativity had defused the situation. The journey was arduous, made only once each year, but it was not unusual. Usually, the trek was reserved for one who had offended the laws of the village, someone disgraced. While the pair assigned to this trek was not in disgrace with the village, neither was it considered a harsh punishment. The trip had to be made anyway, and if this is what their King called a punishment, well, who were they to argue? They used it in a similar way themselves, though for far more serious offenses. The journey was considered one that helped clear the mind and cleanse the spirit.
Judgement rendered, Sarah and Yancey separated as the crowd dispersed. She could hear plans quickly being made to gather the supplies the pair would need on their trek, and, when Sarah moved to leave with the crowd, Jareth indicated to her that she should stay.
"Sarah?" Marta asked at the doorway, turning to look at her. "Are you coming?" She had noticed the girl had remained in place while the others left. Marta and Giely, as usual, were the last to leave, watching the people as they walked back to their homes and businesses, searching for discontent or trouble.
"Not yet," Sarah replied. "I need to speak with Jareth for a moment." She was calm, strangely so. It was the same kind of peace she had found within her when she had finally submitted to his authority and orders in the Outer Lands. Sarah realized that this peace, this place within herself, had become a refuge for her when she was faced with difficult or unpleasant things. She had used this peace several times since entering the mountains, the acceptance of the world around her tempering her actions and reactions. It was then she noticed that she had lost track of her time. Somehow, it didn't bother her.
Marta looked back at her little brother, saw the look on his face, and nodded. She knew that whatever he had been like before, he had come to a rational--in Marta's terms--conclusion. With that, she left, and the hall was empty except for Jareth and his potential Queen.
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Shattered