Young Writers Society

Rickard wrung his hands, shaking his head. "I could never, never say anything like that," he insisted. "Never, miss. I was--I couldn't believe you did what you did, for me--of all people." He chanced a glance up at her then darted his gaze back down. "I was grateful."

“I…” Jerica slumped against the wall. This was so confusing. So many emotions. Happiness to see her old friend. Relief that he didn’t hate her like Biryn said. Absolute wrath to learn he’d been… been… “You… you mean you didn’t get paid for any of that? He just… he just made you stay and deal with my bullshit then forced you to leave? You never got a say in any of it?”

"That's what I was," he said with a small shrug. "Since before you were born. That's all I ever was. I thought you knew."

“I most certainly did not or I would have pitched the biggest fit known to man… were… are there others? I’ll make Levin let them go and pay them. You have my word.” And Biryn would have lots, and lots of her words.

"Oh, no..." He winced. "That would--please, you shouldn't get involved, miss. He'd be angry, they'd all be angry with you."

“Good. The bastards should be angry if they’re gonna, gonna… steal labor from people.” She rubbed her face. “Actually, no. I angry. You should be angry, too. And they should be ashamed of themselves. This is… I am so, so sorry they did this, Rickard. I swear on my life I didn’t know. I’ll make this right.”

He rubbed at his wrists, face flushed. "I really--I don't...please, I don't need any apologies, you don't need to do anything. Please don't."

She was absolutely going to do something about this. But no point upsetting him. She’d need to talk to Derik and get Rickard gold for all his years of unpaid labor. Jerica had spent most of her money on food and beer at this point or she’d pay it out of her own allowance. “Goddamn bastards.”

Derik strode forward quickly. He needed to shut her up before she kept shit talking the Governor. This was exactly the reason she wasn’t supposed to be talking. “Jer!” She glanced at him, outraged and about to start into a rant, but he gestured above his head. “You’re up here. I need you down here.” He gestured about chest height. “Please. Now.”

At the sight of Derik, Rickard froze up again with a sharp inhale.
"What is going on?" Tomhas asked, striding out as well. Gaius got up, limping after him.

“Levin didn’t pay him,” Jerica said in outrage, not bringing it down like she was supposed to as she looked at Derik, ignoring Tomhas entirely. “He made him work then made him leave and didn’t let him choose!”

Derik grimaced and glanced at Rickard. “Hello, Rickard.”

Rickard stammered out some unintelligible syllables; his face had gone pale.
"We should go," Sera said quietly, to no one in particular.

Derik glanced at the woman and nodded in agreement. This clearly wasn’t good for Rickard and gods knew this man deserved a break. He glanced back at Rickard. “I’m sorry this is how our paths crossed; I promise no harm will come to you by our hand.”

He nodded mechanically, and Sera steered him away from the group, murmuring to him.

“You have to pay him,” Jerica asserted after he walked away, looking at Derik. “Levin didn’t pay him! My whole life he didn’t get any money! Do you have enough with you?”

“Jer,” Derik said gently. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“I don’t want to talk about this later, I want you to pay him now. There’s nothing to talk about.”

(Poor naive kid)

Tomhas and Gaius stood in the doorway, listening.