So instead, I squared my shoulders and stuck out my chin. "You're in luck. When I woke up this morning, I felt like climbing a mountain today. I'll do that on your treadmill."
His eyes narrowed. That wasn't the response he wanted. Then he waved me forward. Only two men were on the treadmill so far, though I figured more would come throughout the day. From what I had seen while in the cage, the men rotated through in fifteen-minute shifts. Climb for fifteen minutes, then rest for fifteen. I could do this. My only challenge was exactly as I had warned the warden. The steps of the treadmill were not made for legs as short as mine. They were built for a man's much longer legs. I didn't know if I could scale the distance in time for the treadmill to rotate down again, but since I had no other choice, it was a fine day to find out.
I took a deep breath, and with the warden behind me, I climbed onto the treadmill. The men on either side of me looked curious about why a girl my age had joined them, but sweat was already pouring down their faces. It was going to be a warm day.
"Happy morning!" I said good-naturedly.
They grunted.
I could do these steps. It required a full stretch of my legs, but it reminded me of the many trees I had climbed back home, of how far I'd sometimes had to reach to get to the next safe branch. Granted, I'd had time then to calculate the distance, but the work itself was the same. I could do this.
A few minutes later, three more men came to the treadmill. The two on either side of me got off for the rotation, so I start
ed to get off too.
"Not you, grub," Warden Gossel said. "You keep going."
I pointed to the one man who had not rotated in. "He's done nothing yet!"
"You told me you wanted to climb a mountain today. You've only just started. I hope you don't slip from exhaustion and fall under the wheel."
"Not today." I returned to work at the treadmill, my strength powered by raw stubbornness and a desire to get revenge on the warden. But how? He sat there watching us, smugly resting in the shade, sipping a drink that probably contained special Scourge medicine that supposedly didn't exist and enjoying the cheerful chirps of the birds overhead.
Ah, the music of the birds. Here was the revenge, wasn't it?
I glanced back at him. "If it's all right with you, whenever I'm climbing a mountain, I like to sing."
He shrugged. "Go ahead. I've heard the River People have songs that do magic."
No, we didn't.
With an apology to the men on either side of me, I opened my mouth and began screeching. It was a rousing tune my people often sang together as we worked our fields. I applied the best of my talents to it now. From my very first note, Gossel's head looked as if it might split apart.
"Stop that at once!" he said.
"I can't," I said. "This is the only way I know how to climb."
The men on either side of me had seemed offended at first by my singing, as all people were. But seeing how much it irritated the warden, they began joining in.
Obviously, these men were only faking their bad singing. None of them seemed to be as gifted as I naturally was in producing sounds that should only belong to the undead. But they should not blame themselves for lacking my talents. I knew they were trying the best they could.
And it was working. Warden Gossel finally stood and yelled, "You know how much grain must be ground up today. None of you will stop until it's finished. I'll check on you at suppertime!"
The instant he was out of sight, all of us left the treadmill and took a rest. One of the men resting beside me was Clement Rust, from the caves.
"He could have claimed your singing was a sign of sickness and dragged you away to the infirmary," he warned.
But I shook my head. "I overheard the wardens talking. They don't take anyone to the infirmary until they believe they've been broken. I don't know what happens to the people once they're inside, but they don't want anyone who fights back. The best chance we have to stay alive is to continually fight against them."
"They won't tolerate rebellion," another man said, taking a sip from his medicine as he rested. "The best thing we can do is finish the grinding and stay out of their way."
"Staying out of their way isn't the problem," I said. "We have to keep the wardens out of our way as we heal."
"There is no healing here!" a third man said. "I go to bed each night in so much pain that I can barely climb the prison stairs. It's only worse the morning after. The wardens don't have to control us. The Scourge does it for them."
I pointed to the river, an easy distance away. "If we widened that just a little, we could drag this treadmill into the water. We'd need a different way to collect the flour after it's been ground up, but we wouldn't have to climb anymore."
The men looked at one another with eyes that lit up at my suggestion. Then Clement said, "I know a way to collect the flour."