Spoiled Rich plodded along, one hoof after another, pulling the, rather frankly, easy to pull tools. She scowled to herself. Even if it was easy work, it was beneath her. She was no common packhorse. She was Spoiled Rich. She didn’t spend her entire life securing the wealth she enjoyed to be forced into manual labor. It was demeaning.
But, she knew if she displayed any of the contempt she had for these cretins that were in charge, her good fortune in being allowed to plod along at a comfortable pace could come to an end. They would become suspicious or angry, and she would not be allowed to pace herself any longer, instead being forced at whatever ridiculous pace they felt was appropriate.
So she plodded along, face free of scowls and contemptuous glares. Instead, she watched as she worked. There were only ten workers on the lot. Four mares and six stallions. But at least two other workers came in at intervals. Obviously there were also guards, the guard that fed them at night and the one that came to fetch them was different, and she spotted a third one while she was working, so that’s at least three, but she knew she shouldn’t count on that being an accurate count.
None of them stayed on the working lot, and the clinking around her legs reminded her of why. The shackles prevented Filthy and her from running, and they probably expected them to stop fights as well. Not to mention with the workers they were hopelessly outnumbered.
Her ears twitched, trying to lay back on her head, but she would have none of that. There was fortune, too. It was a simple operation. It looked like there was no clear chain of command, except for the queen. If she was lucky, communication was bad between teams, so if one disappeared or was late the others would think nothing of it. The guard did not seem expected, either, so they might not be ready to receive any amount of people.
She couldn’t stop herself from snorting. If it was humiliating being captured by these rubes, it was double humiliating knowing that they ran their operation sloppily. They must have hardly known what they were doing! And yet they built a cage and shackles and hoped that was enough.
She hardened her visage. It wouldn’t be.
Making her way back to the main lot, there was a particular lack of her husband. The planks she saw him being hitched up too were being pulled by two other ponies. Hmph. And they had just him pulling them before? Awful.
But that didn’t solve the question of where he went to…
However, she did spot Dawn Crest. Being allowed to take a break by some other workers. Spoiled suppressed another snarl. Because of course she was just taking a break. But Spoiled knew she needed to have a word with Dawn, because nopony else would have an answer as to where her husband is.
She watched the pony that was handling her out of the side of her eye. He was a pale tan color with equally pale green hair. He was clearly rather low on the totem pole, because he would supplicate himself before most of the other workers. He was even taller than most of them, and solidly built. But he still was clearly their social inferior. He interacted with them like he was on the verge of panic all the time, and would laugh ‘disarmingly’ all the time, trying to seem nonthreatening. How pathetic.
But, it explained why he wasn’t pushing her very hard. And it meant…
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him be approached by one of the older worker ponies. She made sure she was out of the view of her handler, and the other pony wasn’t watching her either, and slunk off in Dawn’s direction. She knew better than to act like she was sneaking, though. That would be obvious. No, just go as if she were asked. Even though she was not.
“Dawn,” she hailed as she approached.
The seafoam green seapony looked to her, her eyes widening in shock. “It’s… you. Shouldn’t you not be here?”
Spoiled smirked a smarmy smirk. “I got a moment to myself.”
Dawn stared off into space for a moment, shook her head and looked at Spoiled. “Okay. What do you want?”
“Do you know where my husband is?”
Ears poking up, Dawn tapped a hoof on the ground in a bit of thought. “I’m… not sure.”
Spoiled Rich pursed her lips. “He was pulling lumber here just a while ago.”
“Right… right… I’ll go ask,” Dawn said, trotting directly over to one of the other workers. When she engaged him in conversation, he seemed polite. He didn’t scowl or shout.
Spoiled Rich narrowed her eyes. Who was this girl? Was this just because she was another sea pony? Or was there more to this?
Halfway through her conversation, Dawn Crest’s eyes widened in shock. She practically plodded back. Swallowing hard, “Filthy Rich collapsed earlier today.”
Spoiled Rich’s heart skipped a beat. “... Where is he now?”
“They’ve taken him back to the cells. It looks like it was mostly exhaustion.”
Spoiled let out the breath she was holding. “Oh.” She blinked, connecting a dot. “What do you mean mostly?”
Letting out a huff of air, Dawn said, “He was being whipped for not being able to keep up with the work as he was almost collapsing of exhaustion.”
Spoiled Rich stared off into the distance. “I see.”
Dawn Gleam blinked, and leaned over into Spoiled Rich’s vision, giving her a confused look.
Shifting her gaze to Dawn, Spoiled set her jaw and glared at her. “What?”
With a dubious displeased look on her face, Dawn took a step back. “Nothing, I guess.”
“That’s what I thought,” Spoiled nearly spat. “I need to get back to my handler before he notices.” She turned about face and started striding off.
“Sure…” Dawn trailed off, watching Spoiled stamp away.
Her handler--who needed a nickname. Lad. Lad is fine--Lad was none the wiser when she came back. Apparently he had been looking for her, but upon seeing her, apparently assumed he misplaced her somehow, and simply ushered her back to work.
He really was a rube. But he was a rube that had control over her. He wasn't the one in chains, and he was the one commanding her, not the other way around. And she was getting it easy, compared to Filthy…
She was sent to go pull small bits of construction supplies, little bits of iron and coral that were no doubt used to assemble the lumber, while the workers proper pulled the larger slats of lumber. The repetitive work gave Spoiled more free time to think.
There were so many obstacles. A dozen workers. Who knows how many guards. Stuck on an island. And of course, she remembered as she tried to extend her hooves more than a few feet apart, these damnable chains. They’d be doing every single thing without being able to run, or reach for things high without standing on two hooves.
And after what happened to Filthy, waiting might not have been an option. Were things going to get better… or worse? She didn’t want to take that chance.
Sand Castle looked out over the work yard, trees clearcut and such, and sighed. Volunteering for a special secret project for the Queen seemed considerably more exciting before the day to day drudgery set in. Especially since it was day to day drudgery far away from civilization.
He sighed. He knew he shouldn’t complain about it. Some of the other guys here had to take these jobs to support their families, but once he got back, he’d both prove that he is a loyal and skilled worker for the Queen and on easy street with the money he’s making. He would be a big deal.
Even if he has the crappy jobs for now, he’ll move beyond it soon enough.
Looking over, he spotted his charge, too. That was something else he was uncomfortable with. The prisoners they were working. Driver had made a very convincing argument before, that they would have to understand that the people on the land were just as much the Queen’s subjects as they were, but they were separated by so many generations they forgot. And they needed to understand that.
And, look at them. Both naked. They couldn’t be particularly civilized, either.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The logic made sense to him. The Queen was, after all, the Queen. Not only was she of the royal family, she was chosen by destiny to lead the sea ponies to the land again, reclaiming what was once theirs. Her stature made that clear.
But actually seeing the ponies working for them? It still felt wrong.
And the fact that Dawn Crest was among the prisoners…
There was a loudish call from the field he was looking over. He opened his eyes, to see his charge calling out to him. Setting himself up from the tree, he walked over to her.
She apparently had managed to get the chains her forelegs were in tangled around in a bush. Thoroughly tangled, too. He wasn’t actually sure how she did it, as he attempted to figure out how to disentangle the chains. They just weren’t getting out.
About the only way he could figure it is if the chains were removed and unlooped. So he set out to the forepony’s office.
On the way, he passed the another coworker of his, who was looking at a box of tools, and he hailed her. “Hey! I have a question.”
She didn’t turn to look at Sand Castle. “What is it, Castle?” she said.
“Which key is to the prisoner’s cuffs?”
She didn’t look up from him her tools. “It’s the key with the shell on it on the third key ring.”
“Alright, thanks!” he said, trotting off.
Arriving at the forepony, Driver,’s hut, he quickly found the key ring with the shell key. Fortunately it was the only one. He hoofed it back to the lot he was working at, with the mare in his care still stuck.
He dragged up the sparse commands that he remembered from the brief language lessons. Putting on his best stern face, he pointed down and delivered the foreign command for stay.
She set her jaw and gave him a sardonic look, but she stepped back and stood still. he unlocked both of her hooves, and started looping the chain out of the bush it was in. Somehow it had been basically knotted around the stem. How could this ha--
“What is this?!”
Castle froze in place at the voice of Driver. Behind him he heard a thump and a feminine shriek. He twirled around to find Driver, along with a couple other workers, including the one he asked for the key earlier, behind him, one of them having clearly struck the pony that was working under him.
“D-Driver, I can explain.” Castle stumbled to his feet, leaving the chain still looped around the bush.
“This oughtta be good,” the mare accompanying him said.
Driver rotated his hoof as if to say, “Go on.”
Stepping aside to reveal the chain and the bush, Sand Castle gestured to it. “She managed to get her chain stuck around the bush here, so I took them off to untangle the loops.”
“And how do you think she got her chain caught?”
Sand Castle rubbed the back of his head. “I… I dunno. It’s pretty tangled.”
Driver stamped up to Sand Castle, causing him to shrink under his superior’s gaze, even though he towered over his superior.
Practically slamming his foot into Sand Castle’s chest, Driver spat, “She deliberately tangled them, so that you would unlock her chains.”
Sand Castle widened his eyes in shock.
“Oh, now it dawns on him,” Driver said in mock surprise. “Only after he unlocked her.”
“I don’t see what the big deal is.” Sand Castle flushed red. “She’s just one pony.”
“We don’t know what she is able to do,” Driver leaned over Castle, “That’s the problem.”
“W-what was I supposed to do?” Castle grumbled.
Driver gestured behind Castle “Cut the bush, then!” He leaned over Castle and growled, “Or just go get someone else who knows what to do, if you don’t.”
“Y-yes, sir,” Castle said, thoroughly cowed. “I’ll make sure to do that in the future.”
Driver whipped around back to facing his prisoner. “Don’t bother. I am relieving you of her. Someone else will deal with it.” He looked back. “Finish extracting the chains, though.” He stomped back to the prisoner, giving her a rough prod forward, and barked the order to move in the other language.
Sand Castle turned back to the tangle of branches and chain links, sighing and getting back to work.
As she was led out roughly by the practical entourage that came with the boss of the yard, her shoulder still stung from the strike she received as they arrived. Her handler was clearly not going to be her handler anymore. After her stunt with the chains she knew she will be on a tighter leash, she will be more closely watched and probably worked harder.
The forepony peeled off, saying something to one of the other ponies escorting her, and approached a hut, which was only large enough to probably be an office.
Before the door closed, she watched him loop the key with the shell pattern on the top on the third key ring away from the door.
She permitted herself a smirk. At least the plan worked.