Book 4: Chapter 42: The Underground |
The following morning they were led by lieutenant Sebas to the wide opening of a cave leading into the mountain. They had an escort of five soldiers at his insistence, and the merchants and workers making their way in and out of the cave gave them a wide berth. They walked nearly a hundred yards into the cave, where small stones that glowed with soft light kept their path illuminated, and reached a large wooden platform at the end with a half dozen broad dwarven men standing at a crank. There were a few dozen carts, men, women, and dwarves waiting to board the platform, but it was completely cleared.
Sebas said a few quick words to the platform operators and they stepped on. None of the merchants or other travelers seemed to be allowed to board it with them.
“Let them on,” said Gabriel simply, gesturing to the men manning the crank.
They exchanged a glance with Sebas who nodded at them.
The carts and others moved onto the platform with them, and once it was filled the dwarves at the crank began moving and the platform began a long slide down a gentle slope. It was an inclined elevator, and he could see a number of weights and counterweights being activated as they slowly made their way deeper into the caves. It was a tight squeeze in a confined space, but it wasn’t too uncomfortable. The cave gave them a break from the chill wind that was in the air. Ollie was struggling a bit with his proportions, but his hat got hit more than his head did.
The ceiling of the elevator was lit with the same glowing stones as the entrance to the cave and Michael’s eyes adjusted quickly. The walls of the cavern they travelled down weren’t smooth except where they needed to be. It was all natural formation wherever it could be with no carving or changes made for purely aesthetic reasons. He found it quite beautiful.
When they began to reach the bottom, the narrow tunnel they were being lowered down opened up into a large open cavern. He had been expecting homes carved into stone, narrow streets, and small doorways, but what he saw took him by surprise. The dwarven town was a tapestry. From where he stood on the elevator he could see a grand scene. Dwarves marching down tunnels, working in elaborate forges, fighting creatures in the dark, and ruling over the darkness that was their home. The town was one large continuous sculpture that depicted these scenes. Doors were in the eyes of dwarves or monsters, streets were rivers that ran between the legs of great heroes, and sparks from carved forges were made up of torches that lined the streets.
Michael and Gabriel both looked over it with their mouths open and their eyes showing open excitement.
“It’s incredible,” said Pyotr, beating both of them to it.
They all looked, and Michael saw what looked like a goblin of some sort showing all of them his ass, hidden amongst a small horde of them fighting a surrounded group of dwarves making a heroic last stand.
Ollie laughed first, and the rest of them joined him.
The elevator settled in place and they waited for a few moments as the merchants and tag-alongs with them cleared out. They moved forward and Michael saw a group of dwarves and a human woman approaching them. Most of them were guards, wearing thick steel armor heavier than most humans could handle, with brutal war-picks belted at their waists and towershields at their sides. Among them was a male dwarf wearing no armor, but covered in thick chains of gold, silver, copper, and a host of metals he didn’t recognize. He also had thick gemstone beads woven through his dark black beard and hair.
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The woman was Francesca. Her tan skin was paler than the last time he’d seen her, though her eyes were still dark and lively. Her hair was woven with many of the same gemstones he saw on the dwarf next to her and she also wore a thick chain of metals, though hers seemed to make up only two rows of a necklace rather than the full chestpiece of the dwarf. Aside from that she wore a simple brown dress, heavy boots, and a pouch at her waist that seemed to be jammed full of implements he had no clue the function of.
She looked at them with surprise that changed into a smile for a few moments, but that smile dipped as she looked across them, and her expression darkened.
“Hail Chief Mardock,” said Gabriel as he moved toward him.
“Hail King Castor,” responded the Chief, moving through his guards to meet him. They approached one another and clasped hands for a few moments. Michael was impressed that despite their difference in size, both of them managed to make the gesture look natural.
“Join me for food and drink. We can discuss your needs.”
“And yours,” replied Gabriel with a smile.
They all fell in line between the two leaders and began making their way further into the city. Francesca approached Michael directly, stopping him and the others. She waved for the dwarves to keep going and they gave her a respectful nod and went.
Her eyes were sad, but accepting as she looked at him.
“How did it happen?”
“We were ambushed,” replied Michael sadly. “We tried to run, but were forced to fight. He died saving me.”
“And you couldn’t heal him?”
Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but Michael still felt a pang in his chest from the question.
“No… there wasn’t enough to heal.”
She inhaled deeply, then let out a long trembling breath.
Ollie stepped toward her. “I found some sketches of his that he did of you.” He reached into his pack and carefully pulled out a stack of browned paper. “I’ve been holding onto them to give to you.”
She took them, unfolding one that showed her in profile holding a stone in her hand that she was observing closely. She smiled, folded it, and placed it in a pocket.
“Thank you.”
“Glad you unfolded that one first. A lot of the others in there wouldn’t have been as socially acceptable.”
She cracked a smile. “Let’s regroup with the others. We’ll have a drink after this and catch up.”
They all moved to catch up with the others. Thanks to the deliberate pace of the dwarves and their own long-legged strides they were able to catch up quickly and enter what seemed to be the hilt of a massive stone axe, but inside was a banquet hall that seemed similar to a viking hall.
Chief Mardock offered Gabriel a plate of dirty mushrooms and he lifted one and ate it whole. He nodded in satisfaction.
Michael raised an eyebrow at Francesca.
“It’s to represent him being a guest. Once he eats that he benefits from dwarven laws of hospitality.”
Michael nodded and the group sat while plates of food and goblets of drink were brought to them. The drink was bitter, with a mildly sour aftertaste, and unpleasant. Yet after the first sip he found himself taking a second, then a third. The food was mostly mushrooms, with a few thick slabs of meat mixed in, and some shellfish that he quickly realized wasn’t shellfish, but chose to pretend it was so that he could eat it without being rude.
“A meeting from a King was not something we expected,” remarked Chief Mardock, lifting his goblet. “Your kind tends to stay on the surface while we stay below.”
“When a king has a great request to ask of another, he must present that request himself.”
The Chief smiled. “Sounds like a good way for a king to find himself out-negotiated and taken advantage of.”
“I don’t care if I’m left without a single copper. There is an existential threat to this world. Precious metals won’t matter if we’re all crushed beneath a wave of rift monsters.”
“A surface threat,” he said, waving his hand as if dismissing the thought.
“Perhaps at first,” remarked Gabriel, “but eventually they would turn their attention to your people.”
“It would be too costly for them. They might think to invade once, but after the tremendous failure they will experience, another attempt would not be made. Talk to me of what you want and what you will pay. I will not be swayed by claims of existential possibilities.”
Gabriel’s expression stayed steady, and he took a small sip of his drink.
“I wish for passage. From this cave all the way to Broan.”
“For how many?”
“For an army.”
The Chief frowned deeply, his hand going to the chains around his neck.
“And I had so wished to take you for everything you’re worth,” he said with a note of sadness. “That is something which I cannot grant.”
“For fear of a foreign army in the caverns? Or a deal with Swandia?”
“No. It is the madness of a god that prevents me from making such a deal.”
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