Alfred 2: And The Underworld (Alfred the Boy King)

by Ron Smorynski

  “Yes... the Underworld.”

  Chapter Fifteen: The Underworld

  Hedor and his men held torches wrapped with hay and soaked in tree sap. At first, they descended the mines easily. The path was square cut with ten feet wide wooden supports every ten paces or so. There were a few side passages, but Hedor wanted to follow the main tunnel down as far as it went. He wanted to see what they had to work with and where veins of ore might be.

  Along the main path they came to veins of brown copper ore. Hedor tapped at them, tasted chunks and scrutinized the find. Copper was always of use. It wasn't what he was looking for, but it was a promising sign that this area had not been stripped of all natural materials. The men waved their torches about to see into dark reaches – offshoots, openings into small caverns and areas where good veins must have been found in the days of old. Hedor had mined before, long ago, and sighed as he remembered the hard work.

  At the end of the mine's main tunnel they reached an old scaffolding. Hedor could see where they had previously found an iron vein and cut into it. It led the dig upward. He stepped on the old hardened wood to test it. It had sat there for so long it looked like grey stone. It felt firm, but he wasn't too confident. Oh well, he took a risk and stepped up, motioning for the others to stay. He climbed through the scaffolding, up into the vertical shaft. Some of the scaffolding cracked and broke, but he was able to hold onto other parts and nimbly ascend. The men below winced at the cracking of supports and tried in vain to hold it firm.

  Hedor saw the iron vein not far up and was thrilled. He waved his torch upward and saw that the shaft opened into to a large cavern. It widened rapidly into the vast darkness. He could see some good veins of iron ore webbing along the walls upward into the dark.

  To reach this area, he realized they had traversed a good distance down a long gradual path. Since he was not sure how far they had descended, it was a sure sign that the descent was a bit far. Therefore, it was going be a long trek to carry rocks and ore out.

  Thankfully, he saw no signs of goblin activity and no scattered camps or tattered lairs. Nor did he see any signs of the feared and mysterious picts. Of course, if he did see a sign of pict activity, he was not exactly sure what it would be. He just knew if he saw it, he would definitely know it! Hedor decided not to mention any of this to the men.

  He knew this must be the spot where the old miners stopped. The common tale of old was that the work done in the mines ended when the goblins raided throughout the kingdom. It wasn't that they attacked the mine directly. It was just unsafe to be so far from the Keep and farms. He climbed back down and stood next to his men.

  “There's at least a half hour trek back to the opening,” Ruig commented as Hedor bent over, a bit tired.

  “And I'm out of breath coming down the climb.”

  “Aye that, we all are…” Ruig agreed, seeing the men sit about. “Haven't walked underground in some time. It's tiring going down or up or bent over. It ain't natural walking at all.”

  “And carrying a bucket of rocks or ore back up as well – it can be done, but oh, what I wouldn't give for a bunch of slaves, hey?” Hedor smiled with a twisted grin.

  “Oh, that's a cruel one. I'd do with some prisoners of war and a cup of goat's milk!” Ruig shot back.

  Both laughed a bit at their cruel jokes. Men needed these sometimes to loosen the worry in their gut at the dark bitter work ahead of them.

  “Well, let's drop our stuff here and start the work of mining at this very spot,” Hedor said as he dropped his tools and gear on the gravel ground.

  Ruig lifted his torch as high as he could. The others dropped their stuff and prepared oil lamps and candles. “The cavern goes on up there,” Ruig said. “No telling how far or what's up there.” Ruig lifted his torch as high as he could.

  “Well, I suppose we'll mark it out at some point,” said Hedor. “If the miners of old worked up there through this vein, it's probably our best bet for good ore. Best Ruig and I go back to get wood. We're gonna need quite a bit to secure the scaffolding and build up along the wall. The rest of you stay here and work the veins you can reach.”

  They nodded.

  “And work at an easy pace. Don't wear yourselves out. Any uneasiness or noises, return to the surface immediately.”

  The men felt good that Hedor was more concerned about their welfare than slaving them away to get the ore.

  “What we gonna do about getting more tools?” asked Ruig as he and Hedor headed back. “The one's we have won't last long.”

  “That's why we are getting the ore, Ruig. Let's just hope Alfred knows what he is talking about concerning the making of steel.”

  “The art of steel, kept secret by those in power?”

  “By those in power?” Hedor stopped and pondered. “Well then, I suppose Alfred the King knows what the goal is, hey?”

  Chapter Sixteen: Gorham's Task

  Gorham returned to the Keep. He had one mission and fretted it, as he wasn't sure who would react worse to it. He had to get Broggia and Boggin out of the castle and secretly to the mining operation. Who would be angrier, Dunther or Abedeyan? Also, would the mercenaries become suspicious?

  Gorham found Abedeyan, and they in turn found Dunther. They went to Dunther’s room to be able to speak in secret. Gorham told Dunther and Abedeyan about Alfred's plans. Gorham was surprised. Both men readily accepted the plan, realizing that having a defendable alternative, guarded by the girls and boys, would be wise.

  “We must remove Broggia and Boggin from their work without causing suspicion,” Gorham said.

  “That is easy enough. Leave it to me,” Dunther said.

  “What of the merchants’ carpenter and sergeant?” Abedeyan asked. “They keep a greedy eye on everything.”

  “Keep them distracted!” Dunther said.

  “How?”

  “By being you.”

  “Humph!”

  Abedeyan walked up to the Master Carpenter and Sergeant Jeurkaheen. “Hullo my good sirs,” he chirped. “How is the work coming along?”

  Like prison guards watching over inmates, the men were standing about while laborers slowly worked on the battlements. They turned and looked down at Abedeyan.

  “I know I haven't checked in with you much,” he said, smiling a bit too much, “but I thought I'd finally come out to see the work being done.”

  The Master Carpenter and sergeant leered at him but quickly noticed their most important subject, Lord Dunther. They stepped around Abedeyen's chatter and looked at Dunther. Abedeyan went on. “I must admit, back in the day, I was once a carpenter and know a bit about...” But he tapered this, realizing that the distraction was not working.

  The two supervisors stared at Dunther as he approached Broggia and Boggin. They saw as Dunther began pacing the smiths, picking up things and examining them. As he looked at various items, Boggin glanced at him while trying to stay focused on his hammering. Dunther threw down a tool and picked up another, examining it. Boggin stopped his hammering to stare at Dunther's back. Dunther then began yelling something. The venerable Broggia, focused on sharpening wood axes, stopped his grinding wheel to look up. Dunther showed them the tool and struck it against a table, yelling vociferously. He started to hit it against the table again and it flung out of his hand dangerously. Strangely, he ignored it, waved his arms about and kicked over a bucket of nails.

  Boggin, unable to help himself, stood up and yelled back. He held a hammer menacingly, but Dunther seemed unfazed as he spilled out more nails and picked up a few, biting them to test their tensile strength and then spitting and tossing them aside.

  “What's going on?” Abedeyan said, pushing his way between the two Telehistine bosses. They kept their focus on Dunther, ignoring him.

  Broggia finally stood up, not to confront Dunther, but to hold his son back. Boggin seemed ready to attack with his smithing hammer. As Dunther continued his tirade, Boggin weakened and tottered. Dunther found a pile of worn tools and pick
ed one up, showing it to them. He yelled, pointing at the used tool. Boggin yelled back, pointing at the fixed tools, but Dunther just shouted back and threw the worn tool across the space.

  He then struck a ceremonious pose and pointed, with arm and pointer-finger fully extended, for them to leave.

  Boggin, angry and confused, approached Dunther for an unfair fight. Gorham was nearby, ready to pounce. He played his role well and kept the two separated. Gorham, along with Broggia, held Boggin back as best they could. Dunther deftly avoided the fight, all the while looking mean and yelling insults.

  “Oh-oh, that doesn't look good,” said Abedeyan, recognizing the ruse. “Looks like they are being fired for poor skills.” He did not believe Dunther's charade, nor his own conforming words. He shook with disappointment at his lack of acting skills.

  Broggia watched as his son, though normally adept with a hammer, was unskilled in swinging it to hit a knight. The two knights feigned a fit of angry disposition, slyly deflecting and thus knocking his son Boggin to the ground, over and over.

  Old Broggia, with a slight tear in his eye and a limp in his walk, walked past them, quitting for good. Dunther and Boggin yelled and yelled in their strange dance as Gorham deftly kept them apart. Seeing Broggia hobble away, Boggin spat and left as well. Dunther pushed away from Gorham with a wink and walked towards the Master Carpenter and Sergeant Juerkaheen.

  Abedeyan tried signaling to Dunther that they weren't falling for it by sliding the edge of his hand across his neck.

  Dunther ignored him. “It appears we don't have any viable blacksmiths for the metal works, with what little iron we have left.”

  “Milord,” the Master Carpenter said, “it just so happens we have smiths skilled in the works of iron, especially for our woodcraft needs. And we happen to have our own supply of iron, which we could procure.”

  “Well then, that would be a most acceptable arrangement!” Dunther barked.

  “For a price, milord, I'm sure you can work it out with the Merchant Lords when they return.” With this, the Master Carpenter bowed excessively low.

  “Of course, the Merchant Lords, of course,” said Dunther, holding in his anger and recognizing their corrupt greed and all his failed dealings with them.

  As Boggin helped his old father out the gate, he sobbed heavily. Broggia looked up at his son's grimy face and gently patted it. Boggin smiled as tears dripped down.

  “They replaced us father! With them foreigners, folks we don't even know,” Boggin said with spittle and tears.

  Broggia nodded with little emotion. He had seen plenty of unfairness in his life.

  They went past the busy village of complete strangers. Most had shown up with the merchants and set up their wayward fair to sell to the soldiers and workers. Broggia and Boggin looked odd – just two tattered blacksmiths covered in dark soot hobbling through a village of bedazzling performers and sellers of things no local could afford or need.

  They reached the outskirts and went down the path that lead to many farms. There Gorham, on horse, waited with a cart and pony.

  Broggia and Boggin angrily tried to ignore him and pass by. Gorham got off his horse and approached them. He handed the reins of the cart and pony to them. They just stared blankly at them and him.

  “What are you doing, knight?” Boggin asked in anger. “Haven't you and your lord done enough to ruin everything King Alfred and the people have fought for?!”

  “I am giving you your new assignment from Lord Dunther and King Alfred,” said Gorham, offering a kind look.

  “That dolt just went off and fired us in the most unpleasant way!” roared Boggin. “We are the best smiths around, and he's a total cad! We built an army of armour, the best ever, and that mongrel lost it all! He lost everything!!”

  Boggin’s contorted veins popped from all his muscular reddened limbs. Gorham flinched a bit to avoid the spittle flying from the exhibition. Broggia reached up for the reins and climbed up into the cart.

  “Father, what are you doing?” Boggin asked, flabbergasted.

  Broggia giggled then motioned for Boggin to jump on. “Where to, Sir Gorham?”

  “To the mines where King Alfred awaits,” said Sir Gorham with a bow.

  “Oh, the old mines in the West?” said Broggia, sighing, remembering. “There was good ore there, very good ore.”

  Boggin stood his ground, still angry. “What's going on here! What you up to, knight?”

  “We had to get you out of the Keep in the least conspicuous way,” Gorham replied.

  “What?” Boggin thought. “It was an act?”

  Gorham nodded.

  “Least conspicuous to whom?” Then Boggin realized, “To them? The men from the South Coast who the merchants brought in? They aren't to be trusted?”

  Gorham nodded.

  A smile crept onto Boggin's bitter face. “Dunther was just acting?”

  Gorham nodded.

  “So it was a charade. He was just acting. Lord Dunther... acting? What then...”

  Boggin couldn't put two and two together, but his father already had. “Come on, boy. We have some work to do just yet – for our king!”

  As Broggia jostled the pony forward with the reins, Boggin leapt up onto the seat beside him. A great relief exhaled from Boggin, an angry prideful spirit was expelled. “An act...” he remarked, still thinking. Then he giggled a little.

  Sir Gorham watched them trod off in the empty cart as he got back on his pony. He turned to look back up to the Keep. From down here, its partially built battlements looked different from when he had first returned. They were spiky now, with a strange maligned look – not just defensive structures but in some mysterious way aggressively evil. The castle was slowly being transformed into something he did not recognize, something not good, but bad.

  Gorham thought of many castles of old, led by good men who fell under the rule of the Lords of Silver. Once shining structures on the hills were soon turned into citadels of wickedness, with darker forms protruding with many spikes. A chill came up his spine as he spurred his pony back to the Keep.

  Chapter Seventeen: Many Tasks at Hand

  Hedor was at the opening to the mine. He had gathered chopped wood and was tying it into bundles. The initial phase of rebuilding the scaffolding and mining was going to be crude. He did not have the proper tools to make wooden boards. Every aspect of the work needed a series of other tools and trades. He would make do with what he had. His men gathered up raw cord, made by stripping branches, and were twining them together to make ropes.

  There was plenty to do for his dozen men. Several were still in the mine tinkering along the vein to loosen rock and open cracks so the ore could be dug out. Hedor wasn't sure if he should be hasty or pace himself. He felt a sense of impending doom but couldn't quite define it. Was his uneasiness about the mine, the kingdom or his own neck?

  Just as this cloud of dismay crept up within him, he saw Alfred and the children arrive. He knew they were quite capable in fighting, at least against the smaller dangerous creatures. However, the Underworld was no place for children.

  Sir Murith and Cory led the boys, who once had spears and were now holding sharpened sticks, farm hoes and crude stone tools. They were in marching order. Loranna had the girls march in a group as well. Miraculously, they were holding their pristine bows and arrows.

  Alfred was impressed with the campsite. They had a slow burning campfire. The men were busy creating their twine ropes, collecting oil from the fat of cooked meats and piling cut wood for Hedor to bundle.

  Alfred saw that so much had to be done to get the mining operation up and running. Broggia and Boggin arrived on their cart. As everyone was getting situated with where they were to live along the hillside, setting up their sleep and work areas, Alfred asked to check out the mines. Hedor set him up with an oil lamp, a hammer, some rope and a small crude hook for latching on, just in case.

  Hedor and his men gathered up bundles of wood and coils of twined ro
pe and headed in as a group. They hadn’t gone that far into the mines when Alfred started staring and oohing and ahhing at each turn, oddly giddy. Hedor rolled his eyes each time Alfred got excited and pointed at the shiny veins of copper ore. Hedor had to tug him along. They reached the scaffolding where the miners were already at work. Alfred was anxious to begin using his small hammer to help.

  Hedor set up a small work area at the base of the scaffolding. He placed lamps, candles, the wood, and twine. Ruig helped Alfred ascend the rickety structure and found a choice spot for him to begin tapping away at the ore. Ruig stood next to Alfred on the scaffold platform. He tied both to the structure just in case. Ruig explained that there was a technique and pace to the work of tapping to get ore out and showed him.

  Alfred looked down to inspect the wooden framework below him. It didn't look as secure as he'd like. There were crisscrossing boards and flimsy platforms. They had climbed up about twenty feet in the tunnel and could not see the end. Alfred noticed that above them were two miners tapping away at veins.

  All of a sudden, Alfred felt dizzy and claustrophobic. Above, the tunnel seemed to open to a wide expanse that led off into darkness. This did not help with Alfred's sense of losing space. There was no light beyond their light and so everything felt small and constricting. The sounds of their tapping echoed against the nearby rocks, which seemed to tighten the space even more. Alfred did not expect this creepy sensation. He certainly didn't experience this while playing The Under Realms.

  “Focus, Alfred,” Ruig said softly.

  “Whah?” Alfred came out of a daze..

  “The rocks and walls will get to you. You have to focus on the task at hand, focus on the rock,” Ruig pointed with his small hammer. “Above, the world is big. But down here, do not look for big, concentrate on small, narrow your vision. Focus... on the rock...”

  “Right, focus on the rock.”