Darkness suddenly gave way to blinding light. It was not that the light was extraordinarily bright but my eyes were overly sensitive. Once adjusted to the offensive glare I observed my surroundings. It was daytime, hot, dry, and bright, and to make matters worse, I was linked up with ten grizzly looking characters I’d never met before. We were being jostled around in what seemed to be a covered wagon. Stopping short everyone jerked forward, and the men against the back wall lost their footing as it gave way. It was a door. A large bronzed man stepped in through it and began pulling men out shouting in a foreign language that was familiar somehow. “Move it along, move it along,” the man rasped.

Southern Qani my mind whispered.

Where was I?

My mind had no answer.

I watched the proceedings carefully; any man who didn’t move fast enough got thrown out. The boys on either side of me, knowing that I had just woken up helped me, on unsteady feet, out. We were the last ones.

Closing my eyes I felt the harsh sun beat down on us, if the sun was always like this I wouldn’t last very long. The air smelled of salt, sweat and smoke, and the sound of machinery resounded around us. Preparing my eyes for the cruel light, I opened them slowly. It was no longer the light that shocked my eyes, but the surroundings, for all around machines worked, men labored, and guards drove them.

“Your doom will be in the Mines of Einder,” a hollow voice from my past sounded.

If only I could remember what else.

“Why are we here?” I ventured the question to a sturdy young blonde on my left.

“Why does anyone come to Einder?” He replied shaking his head. “They must have got you pretty good. Most people come here because the Emperor does not like them or they have committed crimes against him. In your case it seems to be both.”

“Emperor?”

“Rasul, the Emperor of Nashi. He sends us here because he would lose face if he killed us all, I mean look at them.” He gestured towards the hundreds of men working visible before us.

Rasul. That name was familiar, enough to get my blood boiling, but I had no idea why.

As I watched the blonde something in my mind clicked and I said it before I had time to think. “You are from Silan.” The men on both sides of me sent me looks that could kill. The one I had been speaking to had the soft Silanese accent of the north, and both were dressed in winter gear. The other blonde looked remarkably like the one I had been talking to, a high probability that they were brothers. People from Silan were famous for being bounty hunters.

They returned to their guarded stances as men began to unlink the prisoners. When the man reached the Silan man on my left the bronze man started over. “No. These four are going below. Chained. There’s at least one in this bunch who musn’t get away or we will all pay with our lives.”

The four of us, still chained, smirked at our captors as we were led to the closest mineshaft. As we went down, and the dark closed in, I smiled, for at last I could see. The shaft had a steady descending slope, that even if I could not see it I could definitely feel it. Down we traveled for nearly two miles. We stopped at a junction in the mine where we gained a few more guards and I surveyed what surrounding I could. The tunnel we were following continued down, but branched off with tunnels on either side following a seemingly straight path. All around us people were working and dying, but I was not destined to such a fate for I would not allow it to happen to me.

We began our trek once again, further down into the dark. After another mile we were unchained and made to follow another tunnel. The dark was intense, but regardless, I could see better than I could in the daytime. I suspected that the others could not see as well as I could, and that it would be easy to escape if ever I felt the need to do so.

Where did all these thoughts come from? I wondered. My eyes were especially keen and I was forever searching for weak spots among the guards, and conjuring up scenarios of how to escape. Whatever I had been before my memory had left me had been bent on surviving, always looking for ways out, and though I was sore and badly bruised my body was tough and well built.

A dim light at the far end of the shaft drew nearer as we trudged along. At last we came upon a lighted area of the mines where the shaft we had been following ended. Ten people dressed in ragged, worn clothes hacked away at the unforgiving stone barrier while ten burly men looked on. As we approached the overseers came towards us to talk to the guards who had so kindly escorted us down.

Work halted for the weathered creatures as the big men talked allowing the workers to come look us over. A gaunt and cocky redhead was the first to greet us. “Hey, hey, what do we have here?” He asked circling me. “Not many chicks down here in Murderer’s Hole.”

“I wouldn’t try anything,” a burly black man covered in dust advised. “Unlikely beat you and doesn’t even look like she could, imagine what this one could do.”

“That’s half the fun.” The redhead grinned.

“Enough gabbin’, git back te work ye slobs.” I heard a whip rush through the air. Whirling, I anticipated its fall and grabbed it just before it threatened to slash my face.

Everyone looked at me.

I matched their stares, for even I was not aware that I was capable of such a performance.

One of the boys I had been chained with broke the silence by tossing me a pick, and we got to work. The others soon got over what I had done and fell to work as well, digging us further into the earth. As the soil loosened, so did the inmates, and they began to introduce themselves.

Crazy Jack Arkin was the oldest member of Murderer’s Hole, committing the largest set of murders known to the North. He killed the entire Royal Court of Telne. It was they who had put Rasul on the throne in Nashi. He killed them to let them know what he though of their decision. Unfortunately, by killing everyone able to rule the country, that allowed Rasul to not just to be King of Nashi, but started his reign as Emperor. As a result, Crazy Jack was rewarded with a life working the mines in Murderer’s Hole. Death would come to him soon now, he was an old man, and life in the mines had been hard.

Hang Cooper was horseman from Zevine who had done his share of murders while stealing horses. He stole high quality horses he told us, from the Ice Mountains, a rare breed, bringing back to their home territory. Because they were so rare people put up quite a fight to keep them and lost their lives for them.

Rie Sortiara, also known as the Desert Spider had once roamed the Rasch Desert preying on anyone unfortunate to hire him as a guide through the desert. He had once been able to take refuge among the Desert People, but when Rasul began killing the men, looking for Sortiara he was turned in, in exchange for the young men’s lives. “How many are still alive now?” He mused. There had always been a rift among the Raschi of the south, and the Norsh, people of the north. Rasul had been very plain about whose side he was on by declaring the Raschi Desert as part of Nashi, and killing anyone who resisted.

Hievin Skoltin, the cocky redhead, was apparently a famous rape murderer in Nashi. I can’t say that I’ve never heard of him, but then, I can’t remember, so as far as I’m concerned, I haven’t. I really could care less about him. He hasn’t got much of a personality.

Shalante Sketsva is a pirate, famous for killing whole fleets of Telne troops, since they have no real experience at seafaring. Shalante, his first mate, Taun Brentski, the gunner, Rishiv Onua, and the coxswain, Calig Melenevik were all captured and held as prisoners of war, trying to lure the King of the Askov Islands into a battle, but unfortunately for the pirates, the King did not defend them. It took an Armada of Nashi taught Telne to catch them because no one else would.

Of the men that had arrived with me, the two blondes were the brothers Dielyn, bounty hunters from Silan. Most men from Silan were trackers of one type or another, someone commented with a laugh. The ground is not fertile enough to survive solely on agriculture, and tracking is especially useful in the winter when Silan becomes frozen and snow covered. The brothers had been turned in after a bad deal.

The other man was Quevin Sloane, a serial killer. He killed anyone who rubbed him the wrong way. He had no homeland to speak of, just warned us not to anger him because it never went well for anyone. Not much of a talker, his eyes said it all. There was a crazed, angry look in them, someone had done him wrong, and all the murders he had done were simply practice for what he intended on doing to that man when he got the chance. He was an easy catch he admitted. He killed but never worried about the consequences. After killing a member or the Emperor’s Imperial Guards, he was quickly subdued.

The only people that had not shared their stories were the burly black man, the small creature working beside me, and myself. The black man, whose name was Lew Nesha, was the only one who seemed to have a conscience, the only one who didn’t seem the hard core criminal type, the only who didn’t belong in Murderer’s Hole.

“What are you in for?” I asked him as he worked beside me.

“Stealing horses.” Came his reply.

“Horses? In Murderer’s Hole?” One of the Dielyn brothers asked, Kaen was his name.

“He claims to have stolen the horses, whatever happened to the riders, no one seems to know.” Hievin put in.

The people who owned the horses were the Baron Godna, his son, and daughter. The three of them are still missing to this day I’ve heard.” He sighed.

“Well that’s odd.” Kaen commented.

No one heard him except for his brother, who elbowed him, the small worker beside me, and myself. I took the opportunity of looking in Kaen’s direction to inspect the small person. Malnourishment had stunted their growth since they seemed to have been in here for the majority of their growing stage. They had long dirty blonde hair, and a feminine face, suggesting a girl, but the lack of a chest suggested otherwise. “What about you?”

“Och, don’t bother, she one doesn’t talk.” Lew said, “Never has. Never had no reason too.”

“Well what’s she doing in a place like this?”

“She supposed to have killed Count Stepinov, of Zevine. But look at her; it’s quite unlikely that she killed anyone. So old Jack named her. She can fight though, huh Hievin?” Lew smirked.

“Well who really killed Stepinov?” I asked.

“They suspect La Lunahai, and think that Unlikely was her accomplice, since he was the first to be murdered.”

“La Lunahai?” I asked aloud.

Everyone stopped to look at me. “You don’t know who she is?” Hievin asked.

“No, I know who she is,” I lied. I really had no idea. “They say she’ll never be caught.” Or at least I hoped so, so I didn’t sound like a complete fool.

“Well what did Rasul say? ‘Even night must end.’ One of his better quotes to be sure.” Shalante Sketsva laughed.

A few others joined him.

“What’s her real name?” I asked looking at her, she had bright blue eyes; none of the other prisoners had any color in their eyes.

“No one knows since she’s never spoken. Just quietly does her work, serves her sentence. She serves it well too since Rasul lost Zevine’s alliance and he had to manually take them over. Most Zevinians would rather die than be under his rule, and many of them did.”

We were silent for a time and the only thing that could be heard was the sound of us picking away at the earth, and its echoes down the tunnel.

“So, what are you in here for?” Hievin asked me. “Not many girls here.”

“Just three in the time I’ve been here.” Jack confirmed. Including Unlikely and myself.

“Well, you probably won’t believe me, but I’ll tell you anyway.” They looked to me expectantly. “I have no idea.” It was the honest answer. I had no memory previous to waking up in the wagon that brought me here.

“How can you not know?” Rie Sortiara demanded.

Before I had time to reply Kaen answered for me, “She was unconscious when we picked her up in Lorc. She only just regained consciousness this afternoon.”

“Lorc?” Crazy Jack asked looking me over.

“A high security prisoner to be sure.” Hievin said.

“What’s your name?” Jack asked.

I shrugged trying to think hard.

“Jezebel Torelyn.” It was a girl’s voice to be sure. But it was not my own.