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

by Ron Smorynski

  As the days passed, they stiffened and weakened in those cages. Dunther could see how easy it was for one to become a slave forever, living so horribly in a real nightmare that it crushed one's very spirit. These cages may have looked crude, made with primitive brutal hands, but they were ingenious in how they broke the spirit of their occupants. Cramped painful quarters weakened those trapped inside physically, mentally and spiritually. The cages enslaved them.

  At first, Verboden spoke many spells to strengthen and heal those around him. But as the days passed, his own strength weakened, and he became one of the slaves in need of food and water and healing.

  Nubio snuck in from time to time, quickly bringing in discarded bones or moldy bread and buckets of water. He had to scramble to ensure the smaller roaming goblins wouldn’t see him and rush over to take what he had. It seemed the ogres overlooked it when a few of the human slaves would sneak in to feed the others, for they knew no one else would bother. It was the only sure way to keep them alive. Occasionally, a goblin would hurt a human slave, but then an ogre would come up and squash the goblin, and the rest would know their place.

  The human slaves were used for general serving and attending of the food and water. They also tended to any of the ogre's needs. Goblins, on the other hand, were used more as warrior servants, who focused or got excited only in times of fighting and attacking.

  Dunther looked over to Gorham in a nearby cage. They shared a smile, even in their exhausted dour mood. “It's just a test of will, milord.”

  “Of course, Gorham, I figured as much.”

  “It's not as if we should be in a glorious hall with flower petals and warm water,” Gorham said, coughing.

  “Oh no, sir Gorham, not that at all,” Dunther said, gritting his teeth. “This gives us much better results.”

  “I agree. This will give us hardiness and strengthen our perseverance.”

  Dunther laughed, but it hurt to laugh. It pained his dry cracked lips and broken ribs. He coughed blood and spittle. Then, finally, he was able to stop coughing.

  Gorham sat up, wanting to reach his lord as he suffered. “Lord Dunther... when will our King return?”

  “Don't worry, Gorham. He will come.”

  Chapter Forty-Seven: The Cave at the End of the Underworld

  Gib stood in the cave, a nice large one, shielding his eyes from the bright morning light of the sun. He was a distance away from the opening, but through the intense glare, he saw an amazing landscape of green grass and trees as the sun's rays spread across the land. Gib blinked, teared up and gulped.

  Pep covered his eyes and wouldn't look. “I don't want to go blind. I don't want to go blind.”

  As Gib stepped forward, his eyes began to hurt. He tried to look but had to close his eyes and rub them. “It burns.”

  “That's okay, Gib,” said Alfred, trying carefully to lead him out. “It burns my eyes too. It's because we've been in the dark for too long. Your eyes just need to adjust.”

  Hedor and his men waited patiently to the side. The girls and boys sat on rocks or took a knee, waiting.

  “Ow, ow... how long will it take for my eyes to adjust?”

  “Well, we uppities have only been down in the dark a short while. We're used to the sun. But for you, who have never been out... I dunno. Could take a while.” Alfred spoke calmly.

  “I can't do it! I can't. It burns. I'll turn to stone!” Gib turned and headed back further in the cave.

  Alfred tried to pull him back. But Gib, though shorter, was twice as strong as Alfred, if not stronger. “You have to come. You will be okay!”

  “No, I can't do it! I can feel the burn! We were wrong!”

  “Hedor! Swords out! Archers!” Alfred huffed impatiently.

  Hedor awoke out of his restfulness and got his men to circle behind Gib and Pep with swords drawn.

  Gib stopped and saw their sharp blades. He scowled and looked at Alfred, pulling out his pickaxe. “So this is how it’s going to be?”

  Pep leapt next to Gib. “Looks like we have nowhere to go, again!” There was a stand-off as Hedor and his men wouldn't allow them to go back to the tunnels.

  Alfred was frustrated. He looked back at the sunlight and the green grass as a butterfly fluttered by. He sighed. He turned back.

  “Stop! We are not forcing you to do this! Hedor!”

  Alfred motioned for everyone to lower their arms. Hedor and his men lowered and stepped out of the way. Loranna tapped her girls, and the children trotted outside into the brightness of the morning sun.

  Hedor tugged at his and they followed them out. Alfred approached Gib and Pep as they tucked their weapons away. “You can go back to your Underworld, where all are sick and everything is rotten and filthy, in every corner, where hope is lost and the light of life fades, if that's what you want.”

  Gib and Pep looked at each other, dreading their choices. Just then, they both heard and saw Gup further back in the cave. Pep leapt in front as a metal bolt fired from its coiled spring shot at them. It pierced his shoulder with such force that it twirled him around and slammed him against the rocks. “Ow!” Pep cried, spittle flying.

  “Nooo!!!” Gib yelled, pulling his pickaxe out. Alfred leapt to the side behind a rock. Gup began to reload. The cut on his face made him like quite cruel. Many of his stone troopers finally climbed up to his spot. They blocked off the way back in and were preparing to fire.

  “Gib! Come with me! You have to!” Alfred yelled desperately.

  “Go with Alfred!” Pep yelled back.

  Gib pulled Pep around a large rock then plopped him behind it. Pep moaned in paralyzing pain. Gib growled, staring back at Gup, wanting so badly to attack his brother.

  “Cover fire!” Alfred yelled.

  Gup and his troopers were still not used to being fired at, much less from the blinding light of archers in the sun. Loranna and her girls laid down a volley of arrows so Alfred and Gib could rush out.

  Gnome armour was very good. Many arrows bounced off their compact, well made suits. Still, an arrow occasionally found a chink in the armour. A trooper or two would yell out and drop, grasping a leg or arm. Gup waved the others to find cover.

  “Hurry Gib, come!” Alfred yelled, keeping low and scooting out.

  “I can't see! It's too bright!” Gib said, flinching.

  “Take my hand! I'll lead you to shade!” Alfred said, grabbing Gib's small gnome hand.

  “I can't do it!” Gib said blindly, unsure of where he was going.

  “You must! Because you are!” Alfred suddenly stopped and held Gib from running. “You are outside, in the sun. You can open your eyes.”

  “I, I,... I can't.”

  “You can.”

  “It's too bright! And it burns!” Gib contorted his white muddied body as steam began to emanate from him. He looked with squinting, tearing red eyes as the mud on his skin bubbled and the steam rose.

  Pep saw from the cave his dear friend turning to stone in the sun. Gup peered from further in, gritting his teeth. “Stupid brother! The curse of these men is all you have!” He motioned his troopers to back off as he watched the demise of his stubborn, traitorous brother.

  Gib cried out as he began to dry, to harden and crackle as rock. He contorted in horror and looked at Alfred. “Damn you boy! You lied to me! Why?.....”

  Alfred stared wide-eyed at Gib's demise. Loranna and the children had difficulty looking on as Gib's form began to turn to stone.

  Gib closed his eyes and finally froze in a petrified state. His skin had turned to stone.

  “No!” Pep crawled back into the darkness.

  Gup walked up to Pep, glaring at him with his spring-loaded weapon ready to fire. “The Artofessor awaits you, Pep, and you will be sentenced as a traitor! To death!”

  In the midst of the stunned silence that followed, Gib's arm crinkled and crackled. The outer layer of mud broke off at the finger tips, and his white pale fingers wiggled. Then the hand portions broke off in clods as hi
s hand twirled. Pieces fell off as Gib moved. He seemed to be emerging out of a cocoon. He nearly fell out as he broke free and stood there, slightly in steam but most definitely not a stone.

  He looked down at his skin and felt the warmth of the morning sun. He blinked as his once forever-black eyes finally narrowed to fine black dots.

  “You're eyes... they're green!” Loranna said as she came closer.

  Gib still had trouble with his eyes. “I, I, I can't see the sun?”

  “You don't look at the sun directly, silly! It's too bright.”Setheyna came up. “Here, look at this instead.” She handed him a small blue flower. “It grows in the sun.”

  He took it gently, held it and saw more colors of blue than he could ever recall. He saw the sunlight upon the flower and his skin glowed like never... never... He realized he had never seen his skin glow, and with such warmth. And then he saw a feint blue hue. It was from the petal, it glowed on his skin. It was a soft blue color. He blinked.

  “What, what is this?”

  “It's a flower!” sang Setheyna.

  “What, what kind of grey is that?”

  “Grey? No silly, that's the color blue!”

  “Bah-loo..oo...hoo...” He cried and laughed at the same time.

  “You see, Gib... the sun doesn't burn you. It is hot, it is bright, but it is just the sun,” Alfred said. “But don't stay in it too long or you can get a sunburn, a red burn on your skin. We all can! But after awhile, your skin gets used to it...”

  Gib nodded with tears and then turned to look back into the cavern, to see the lit shapes of his fellow gnomes. In pale skin and a frail peaceful walk, he approached his brother and his wounded friend Pep. Gup had his gun still pointed at Pep but stared as Gib walked in.

  “It's all been a lie, brother – your allegiance, our allegiance to the Artofessor and his lies. Our suffering and decay, it's all been a lie.”

  “You going to shoot me, Gup?” Pep asked.

  Gup blinked and hesitated. His stone troopers came up behind him, even the wounded ones, all armed and ready for whatever their leader decided. Gup looked at his brother's pale skin. It was as soft and pale as ever, full of pale blue veins and pasty rashes.

  Alfred walked up too. His skin was colorful and vibrant. Gup saw the girls, who glared in the sun, dancing and playing and sniffing blue flowers.

  “It's warm, brother, and so very beautiful.” Gib showed him the blue flower he held in the palm of his stubby little gnome hand.

  Gup lowered his weapon and fell to his knees, staring at the soft blue petals within his brother's hand.

  Chapter Forty-Eight: Repose in the Underworld

  Hedor had delivered lumber and had more work to do when Tirnalth called for him to rescue Alfred. Loranna's hunting expedition had acquired half a dozen fat pheasants and several large wild rabbits when Tirnalth revealed himself to her. Fortunately, the chasm where they met Alfred was the very opening both were using to access the outside world from their Underworld Refuge. It was far enough away from the entrance the ogres had demolished with their cannonballs that it was safe to use. When Loranna and her sister, Niranna, in their elven cloaks, ventured to a ridge overlooking the old entrance, they saw hobgoblins on their bloated hyenas still patrolling the area.

  All were safe as they returned to their families in the Refuge. And of course, the gnomes came with them, carrying Pep on a stretcher.

  “We dare not take him back to our City. Those that are wounded fare not well in that foul air,” Gib said.

  Gup followed behind with his stone troopers. He seemed dissolute and distant. His troopers looked anxiously at him, still armed and fully armoured, some wounded. None dared to speak.

  “I would prefer dying in that sun up there, amongst the colors and flowers and smells,” Pep said weakly.

  “Hold on, Pep!” said Alfred. “We can bandage you up and give you healing herbs and some warm soup.”

  Pep nodded, “...warm... soup...” then coughed and moaned in pain.

  “Hold on, gnome, hold on,” Gib said softly.

  “Gnomes are strong and resilient,” said Tirnalth, walking into their midst.

  “You're back!” exclaimed Alfred.

  “Just a reprise, a respite! I still have magical limits!”

  It was amazing and comforting to the people in the Refuge, in the darkness, finally to see their great long lost wizard. Yet it was difficult seeing him along with picts, or gnomes, the once-dreaded smaller people, seemingly in the same dire situation they were in. Tirnalth was in a phantom form, ghostly, but it didn’t matter to these folks. He shed a warm light wherever he went. They knew that a grand wizard such as he added greatly to their chances of survival.

  “It's been awhile, Tirnalth the Mage!” Lady Nihan said, coming close to him and bowing.

  “You can barely see me, but that doesn't mean I wasn't here before, guiding Alfred. I was called by your King, by Alfred, and have been reborn. And like a child I am striving to regain my former self.”

  “Your powers were great, Tirnalth the Mage. I know what you were up against. I remember the men of the Westfold you were dealing with, the King of former years, the knights and the arrogance... I remember your impassioned plea of forgiveness for our lady, for Princess Ethralia, Alfred's mother. Your pleading with the King and the knights, I will never forget.” Lady Nihan bowed and glanced at Alfred warmly. Then she left to help with the tasks at hand.

  Alfred looked up at Tirnalth.

  The wizard rubbed an eye and said, “Oh, the dust in these underworlds.”

  “Does dust affect you when you are just a ghostly image?”

  “Uh no, of course not...” Tirnalth wiped a tear, then sniffled and straightened up. “Oh, in this instance... yes.”

  Hedor and Dehrman approached Alfred. “What of our new guests then?”

  Alfred turned to look at the gnomes. It seemed a new friendship was forming, yet the gnomes looked dour and downtrodden.

  “So, I asked you to come into the sun,” Alfred said to Gup, “but you wouldn't. Even though we made a stretcher for Pep and let him feel the sun, you wouldn't. And you wanted us to take Pep back to the gnome city, to save him. But Gib wouldn't let you. So you let us take him to our Refuge, and you followed us. Why wouldn't you come into the sun to see for yourself that it was safe?”

  Gup was silent.

  His brother Gib stared at him. Gib had not covered himself with mud again as gnomes do. He liked his pale fleshy skin as it was. He was smaller than the well armoured Gup, but he was lean and muscular. He was wearing his leather shorts and belts for carrying his pickaxe, a sack or two and other tiny gnome items.

  “I will not go into the sun,” Gup finally said. His gnomes tightened in their positions. “Not until my people get to experience that beauty for themselves and we end the lie that is the Artofessor and his minions!”

  “You call for a civil war then?” Gib asked.

  “I don't know, but it's a war if the Artofessor treats me... the way I've treated you and all of our folk.”

  Gib stood wordlessly for a moment. Then he walked up to his metal-wrapped brother and gave him a hug. It was such a powerful and loving embrace that Gup nearly tottered over. Regaining his balance, he held on to Gib just as strongly – and with tears to boot.

  “A reckoning has come to the Kingdom of Gnomes,” said Tirnalth, glowing brighter. “The legend of the frightful and fearful picts, it appears, is coming to an end!”

  Alfred had to squint from the radiance. The gnomes raised their arms against the brilliant illumination and closed their eyes.

  “That light Tirnalth, your light... it is so blinding!” said Alfred, stepping toward the brothers. “Gup, are you going back to free your people?”

  Gup let go of Gib and sniffled, thinking a moment. “Why yes! That is what I must do. Free them? Yes... I must free them!”

  A stone trooper stepped forward. “Milord, none of the other troopers will believe us. So entrenched has been thi
s deception, for generations, surely they will lock us all up.”

  Other troopers uttered similar disgruntled frustrations in unison.

  “And the Artofessor is a crafty sorcerer,” Gup muttered, beginning to pace. “He has some magic up his sleeves. He has the loyal Elite Guard... perhaps, they are demon possessed?!”

  Gib sighed. Then he heard Pep moaning in pain. He looked at him and shuddered.

  “He is severely wounded and lost a lot of blood,” said Lady Nihan, checking the bandages and medicinal applications. “Our herbs will not be enough to save him. “King Alfred, we need Verboden the Cleric. We need his healing powers. He is the only one who can save him.”

  “I know, I know. We must rescue him immediately. I will go there and find a way for them to escape.” A moment later Alfred shuddered, “Ogres.”

  Gib approached him. “Ogres? What is this of ogres?”

  “They have captured many of our people. They have taken our castle, and they have Verboden, our healer.”

  “I will help you rescue your healer, for Pep!”

  Gup broke in. “Brother, we must return to our city and save our people from the evil lies of the Artofessor!”

  “That can wait!”

  “It has been too long,” replied Gup, hissing. “Most of us have lost loved ones to the diseases of the dark. The frailty is upon us all. The decay and rot of the Underworld is killing our people! I believe this is the intent of the Artofessor and his unholy alliance with the Silver Merchants!”

  “These Silver Merchants are evil,” Alfred said. “They give us stuff and promises, then take away our weapons and tell us that we hate each other, that we can't trust each other.”

  “They divide us,” Gib said.

  “I must return to the city!” said Gup. “We can't help these humans without healing our city and people first! They must see the sun for themselves! I cannot risk a venture against ogres while our people lie in ruin.”

  “Milord, again, I must insist, we cannot defeat the Artofessor, the Elite Guard and the other stone troopers,” said the Sergeant. “None would believe us, just as we never believed ourselves.”