Empress of the Underworld

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by Gilbert L. Morris


  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  The scent of the incense, the flashing of the green stone, and the rhythmic voice of the Empress of the Underworld continued until Abbey’s mind seemed to float and she was aware of only the empress.

  How long this went on, she later had no idea. She woke to find herself in the bed with no memory of having undressed. She was wearing a beautiful nightgown, and the covers were pulled over her.

  She raised her head, slightly sick from the odor of the incense, and called out, “Luna, are you there?”

  Instantly the door to the chamber opened, lights came on, and the old woman whispered, “Yes, my lady, is there something you want?”

  “Where is the empress?”

  “She is gone. Shall I call her for you?”

  “No, I feel a little sick, Luna. May I have a glass of water?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Luna returned soon with a glass of cool, sparkling water. She helped Abbey sit up and gave her the drink.

  As Abbey lay back she said, “I don’t remember the empress leaving. I don’t remember much of anything except the green necklace she wore and the incense.”

  “Shall I sit by you for a while?”

  “Please. I’m a little—a little lonesome.”

  Luna sat down and said quietly, “You are a long way from your home and friends. It’s natural for you to be lonesome.”

  “Tell me about the empress.”

  “What do you want to hear, my lady?”

  “She’s very strange.” Something about the last audience with the empress disturbed Abbey. “I don’t—I don’t know what to think about her. She kept talking about the truth.”

  Luna hesitated and said, “Yes, she talks a lot about the truth, the empress does.”

  “What does she mean by truth, Luna?”

  “That is hardly for me to say.”

  Something in her tone caught at Abbey, and she turned her head and saw the lined face of the old woman. “Does it have something to do with the Underlings?”

  Luna smiled slightly. “Yes, it does.”

  “Please tell me.”

  Luna hesitated again. “We are not allowed to speak of such things. If I were to tell you, and the empress found out, I would be sent to the mines. To the lower mines.”

  “What is there?”

  “Some of the stones that you wore tonight were dug from deep, deep underground. People who are sent there are never released. They’re chained to stakes and dig their lives out in darkness like moles.”

  “How awful! But what does that have to do with Empress Fareena?”

  “I cannot tell.” For one moment, the eyes of Luna gleamed, and then she said, “There are many who go around proclaiming that they have the truth, but many of these are false.”

  Abbey was growing sleepy again. “Then how am I to know what is the truth?”

  “You must be very careful, Lady Abbey. Not all that glitters is gold.”

  “I’ve heard that before,” Abbey said sleepily. “One of my friends told me that I like to look on the outside of things too much and not enough on the inside.”

  “That was a wise friend,” Luna said quickly. “I would hold onto that if I were you.”

  “But what is the truth? Can’t you just tell me?”

  “Truth is hard to find. You know Goél?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then keep what he has told you in your heart. Others will tell you that they have the truth, but believe them not if it violates what you have been taught by him.”

  Then Abbey could stay awake no longer. Luna was a shapeless form as she began to drift off into sleep. She fell back into the soft bed, and her mind closed as if the sun had gone down. It was a warm darkness, but during the night she had dreams once again, mostly of a green stone with a snake carved in it and of the Empress of the Underworld.

  6

  Abbey Sees the “Truth”

  One day faded into another for Abbey. She had never seen such fabulous things as Lothar showed her. Almost every day there was an excursion, once to a sapphire mine, the next day a thrilling trip to an underground river, and—more than once—visits to the homes of the lords of the Underworld, all very thrilling to Abbey.

  Every evening the empress would send for her or would sometimes even stop by her quarters. This surprised Abbey, for she had assumed that empresses did not make private calls.

  But the empress seemed to be fond of her. Daily she would bring a new gift. A pair of exquisite shoes made of some sort of leather, softer than any she had ever seen. A bracelet of purple stones that seemed to glow with fire deep inside.

  “These came from the deep mines, my dear. Some of our finest stones come from there.”

  “The deep mines?” Abbey recalled hearing of these. “Could we go there, Your Majesty? I’d love to see stones like this being dug out.”

  “Oh, it wouldn’t be at all entertaining or amusing for you.” The empress laughed. “Down there it is very dirty and hot. There are much more interesting things to see on the upper levels.”

  Abbey often wondered about the other Sleepers.

  One night when the empress came, Abbey said, “I’m worried about my friends. I left them a note, but their journey may have taken longer than I’d thought. Do you suppose I could write them another letter?”

  “Of course you could, Abbey.” Empress Fareena smiled. She had very red lips, and her greenish eyes rolled as she nodded. “You have paper and pen. We’ll send them by special courier.”

  “Oh, thank you, Your Majesty. That would be very kind. I’m—I’m a little lonely.”

  “Only natural, I’m sure. After all, you seven have been very close, haven’t you?”

  “Oh, yes. We’re a family really.”

  “Tell me some more of your exciting tales,” Empress Fareena said. She sat down in a chair across from Abbey and listened as the girl told her more of the adventures of the Sleepers.

  Even as she was speaking, however, Abbey touched her temples. “I don’t know, Your Majesty. It all seems a little vague now. I—I seem to be losing my memory.”

  The empress reached over, as she did every night, and lit the incense burner. At once the air began to carry its sharp, aromatic fragrance.

  Now she turned to Abbey, and her voice grew soft. “Perhaps it’s because you are learning more about the way things really are.” She took up the gold chain that held the green jewel and began to let it swing slowly. She waited till the girl’s eyes were fixed upon it, then said, “We have been happy to have you with us, but time grows short, doesn’t it?”

  Abbey nodded, her eyes fastened on the stone. “Yes, Your Majesty.” She sounded as if she were in a deep sleep—which indeed she was.

  For a long time the empress spoke of many things.

  Something like this had happened for several nights, and each time she had awakened to find herself in bed.

  Tonight she heard the empress’s voice coming from far away. “My dear Abbey, you will be a princess, for you are coming to know the truth. You do know the truth, Abbey.”

  “Yes, I know the truth.”

  She awakened sometime later. As usual, she was in bed. Her head hurt, and her thoughts swirled. Tossing the covers back, she stepped out onto the floor and began to walk back and forth.

  “If there were only a window I could look out of, I might see the stars or a tree,” she whispered, knowing she would not. She stopped abruptly, for this was a longing that she had not expressed before. For all the beauty of the jewels and the richness of her surroundings, still she missed the green grass, the blue skies, and the touch of soft wind on her cheek.

  Suddenly Abbey became upset. Quickly she dressed in her riding outfit. She longed to be alone, and there was one place she had found to be quite solitary.

  Abbey saw as she passed through her outer chamber that Luna was asleep, and she did not awaken her. Outside, she looked to see if there were any guards, but there were none—or they were making their
rounds in another part of the palace.

  She made her way quickly down silent halls that glowed with the same eerie green glint that she had come to dislike. After making several turns, she came to a door, and when she opened it she found herself outside the palace proper. Here there were no jewels, no diamonds, and the light was not so bright. She walked for a time along the walls, and her feeling of loneliness became stronger.

  “I’d give anything if I could see Josh. Or Sarah. Or see Reb throw his rope over an animal’s head. And how I miss Wash and Dave. I wish they’d come. I wish—”

  A figure suddenly stepped from an entranceway, and Abbey cried out in fear.

  The figure halted, and a gravelly voice said, “It’s only me, ma’am.”

  The figure came closer, and Abbey saw that the man was carrying a large bag on his back. At first she had thought he was hunchbacked. She breathed with relief and said, “You frightened me!”

  “I didn’t mean to do that, ma’am. Just old Bono on my way down.”

  “You’re going down?”

  “Down to the deep mines, I am.” He was an older man with white hair and a wrinkled face, but he had a pair of blue eyes that were alert. He wore rags and was dirty from head to foot. “Didn’t mean to disturb you, ma’am,” he said and moved to go on.

  “Wait! I’d like to go with you.”

  “Oh, that wouldn’t be possible!” The old man seemed to be shocked. “None of the nobility ever go to the deep mines.”

  “I’d like to see them,” Abbey insisted.

  Bono shook his head. He pulled off his ragged cap and vigorously scratched his thatch of dusty white hair. “Well, ma’am, I can’t say no. We slaves have to do what we’re told. But you might get me in trouble.”

  “I won’t tell. Just let me go.”

  Bono shrugged and said, “Well, I’m going, if you want to follow. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone how you found your way there.”

  “I won’t tell.”

  Thus Abbey began a strange journey.

  Bono trudged ahead, stooped over, bearing his heavy bag. She could hear his wheezing as they moved steadily downhill.

  The incline grew steeper and steeper, until finally it was difficult to keep her balance. They passed by several levels that led off from the descending stairway, but Bono did not say a word. Was the air growing thinner? It grew harder for her to breathe, and she wanted to turn back. It was darker too. Now only flickering lanterns hanging from steel pegs gave any light at all.

  Finally Bono turned to her and said, “Better not go any deeper, ma’am.”

  “Is this the deep mine?”

  “It’s the first of it, ma’am. It’d hardly be safe to go farther. It’s hard to breathe here, ain’t it now?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “I’ll be going, but you’d best stay here. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  Bono left and, for one moment, Abbey was ready to turn and climb back up to the palace. Still, curiosity overcame her, and she approached the doorway that was chiseled into the solid rock. She moved cautiously, for here the floor was treacherous with loose stones and dirt. This was no elaborately carved passage but literally a rough tunnel like one dug by a huge mole.

  Ahead she saw a light and heard voices. Carefully and silently she crept ahead. When she got close enough, she was shocked to see two women digging with pickaxes, while two children loaded rocks into a small wagon.

  By the wavering light she could see that the women were past middle age. Their hands were splayed as they held the axes, and it appeared to take all their strength to break off even a tiny fragment of rock. The children were pale-faced and listless. They looked starved, like their mothers.

  Why, they look like refugees from old Nazi prisons that I’ve seen in history books, Abbey thought with shock. As she listened, the workers said little. When they did speak, there was no hope in their voices at all.

  “My-Ling died this morning,” one woman said. She spoke slowly, as if every word was a burden.

  The other woman waited for a time. She lifted her pick, struck the tunnel wall, and loosed a fragment no bigger than a marble. Then she leaned against the wall, breathing hard. “She’s better off, poor soul. I wish I was with her.”

  One of the children, a little girl, reached up and took her mother’s ragged garment in her hand. “We’ll be with her soon, won’t we, Mother?”

  The worn woman turned her face to the child, and Abbey had never seen such a hopeless expression in her whole life. The woman’s eyes and cheeks were sunken. When she spoke, her voice was a mere whisper. “Yes, soon. And that will be good.”

  Abbey made her way quietly back up to the entrance to the deep mines. She felt stricken. Never had she seen such hopelessness, and something close to hatred rose in her to think that women and children would be treated like this.

  “Worse than animals,” she fumed as she moved up the passage. She saw no one on the way, and by the time she got back to her room she was very disturbed. Entering, she was suddenly shocked, for there stood the empress!

  Empress Fareena smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you. Been out for a little walk?”

  “Y-Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “A little late for an excursion, isn’t it, my dear?”

  “I couldn’t sleep.”

  The empress’s eyes glittered. “Come. Sit down. We must talk.”

  Against her will, Abbey sat.

  The empress sat across from her, as was her custom. “Something troubling you, my dear?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I suppose I shouldn’t have done it, but I wandered down into the lower parts.”

  “To the deep mines?”

  “Not all the way, Your Majesty. But deep enough. Oh, what I saw was awful!”

  “Oh, my dear, I suppose you saw some of the slaves. It is sad, isn’t it?”

  “Why do women and children have to be chained and made to work in that awful place?”

  “No one hates the thought of that worse than I, my dear. But you must understand that the forces against us are powerful. We must not give in one inch.”

  “But children? How could they—”

  “I know how it looks.” The empress held up a hand and shook her head sadly. “Let me explain to you.”

  The empress began speaking about how difficult it was to be an empress. And how evil was coming into the Kingdom of the Underworld and how cruel things must sometimes be done.

  “We must be cruel to be kind,” she said. “One day the Underlings will see truth, and then, of course, we will bring them out into freedom. But right now they do not see the truth.” The voice grew softer, and Abbey once again found herself looking at the writhing snake on the green stone, which the empress moved back and forth.

  The woman spoke softly until Abbey almost felt herself being—invaded. Abbey was a very private person. She valued her freedom and independence, and this frightened her. She tried to cry out, but she could not.

  “Now it is time for you to know the truth. You have served Goél, have you not?”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “And I know you did it with a good heart, but the truth we have tried to bring to you and must now give you is that Goél is not what you think. He is the enemy of freedom, the enemy of peace. It is he that keeps the slaves in chains in the deep mines. All the troubles in Nuworld come from Goél.”

  “No, no, that can’t be!” Abbey gasped.

  The incense grew stronger, and the sense of being controlled grew more powerful.

  “Ah, you have been deceived. But you must not fear. You love your friends—these other Sleepers?”

  “Oh, yes!”

  “Then you must save them from Goél as we have saved you and given you the truth. You must do the same for them.”

  Abbey never remembered clearly what happened. Over and over again she heard the words “You must save your friends. You must tell them the truth. Goél is leading them into disaster. Only I can help, the Empress of th
e Underworld.” Finally Abbey felt totally helpless. “How can I help them?” she whispered.

  “Ah, I’m glad to hear you have such feelings. You must write them a message. ‘Come and save me, for I’m in danger.’ And you must ask them to come at once.”

  “‘Come at once,’” Abbey repeated.

  “Here is paper and a pen. Write them and beg them to come and save you.”

  The incense grew even more dense. Abbey’s mind seemed to be paralyzed. All she could hear was the voice of the Empress of the Underworld, and she wrote the letter slowly, begging the other Sleepers to come and save her.

  “There. Now lie down and sleep. You have found the truth.” She helped the girl to the bed, smiled down at her, and whispered, “We have you now, Miss Abigail.”

  The empress picked up the message. Then she turned and left the room.

  Fareena went at once down the hall to where Lothar was waiting for her.

  “The Dark Lord—he is here,” he said in a voice not steady.

  The empress smiled. “Do not be afraid. The girl has given in. Come.”

  The two proceeded down another hall. The empress pressed a button. A secret door opened, and they found themselves in a large room where a cloaked figure stood in the semidarkness. Only the light from a single candle illuminated the room faintly.

  “Have you accomplished the task I gave you?” The voice was harsh and rang with power.

  Empress Fareena blinked, but she smiled. “Yes, O Master of Darkness. The girl has sent for her friends. They will come, and once they pass through the doors of the Underworld, we will have them.”

  Lothar nodded. “Yes, Sire, no one escapes from our kingdom.”

  The Dark Lord’s eyes were reddish under the cowl that he wore. “See that you do not fail.” His lips turned up in a cruel smile. “If you do, we will have to take stern measures, even with you, Empress Fareena, and you, Prince Lothar.”

  His threat hung in the air, and as the two bowed out, both of them—stout as they were—knew fear at the very center of their bones.

  7

  Josh’s Dream

 

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