Linkershim sotsi-6

by David A. Wells

  “What about the rest of the city? The stonework is like nothing I’ve ever seen before and it’s clearly ancient. Any insight into who or what might have built this place?”

  “No, I don’t think anyone really knows.”

  “Any word from Jack?”

  “He’s been very busy,” Chloe said in his mind. “In between performances, he’s been gathering information. Oh, and he got your ring back. The man who stole it took it to the market the very next day and sold it. Jack was able to buy it from a jewelry vendor for a pouch of silver.”

  “That’s a relief. How’s Anja doing?”

  “She was angry at first, but she’s making an effort to fit in and do her work. The lady of the house seems to have taken a liking to her-turns out they both have red hair.”

  “Good. I’ve been worried about her.”

  “How are you doing, My Love?”

  “I’m tired. Working in a mine is difficult and dangerous. Supervisor Doyle works us hard, but he’s careful to make sure we don’t get ourselves killed, probably to protect Grant’s investment. Speaking of which, have you had any luck with him?”

  “I’ve been watching him off and on for the past few days,” Chloe said. “Titus Grant is very adept at manipulating the system to his advantage. He seems to take great pleasure in beating his rivals and even his associates, always looking for a way to get the better end of the deal in any situation.

  “I also noticed him slip a note to another man on the street. It happened so quickly that I almost missed it. They passed each other without even so much as a nod, their hands touching for only a moment. I had to get very close to the other man to confirm what I saw.”

  “What did the other man do after he got the note?”

  “He left the city immediately without even looking at it.”

  “So, Titus Grant has secrets. Not terribly surprising for a man in his position, especially in a place like this, but still interesting. Let Anja know about his suspicious activities and tell her to pay closer attention to what goes on in his house.”

  “I will, My Love.”

  “Good night, Chloe,” Alexander said, rolling over and clearing his mind. He was asleep within minutes.

  ***

  The next day, Alexander was working beside Hod and another slave named Benny, digging a tunnel, swinging their pickaxes in dogged rhythm while Supervisor Doyle watched. Doyle was a big man with broad shoulders and burly arms. His black hair was usually coated with dirt and his face was worn and pockmarked. While gruff and quick-tempered, he knew his trade, taking care to ensure that the tunnels and shafts were properly shorn up to prevent a cave-in that might claim the lives of his workers.

  “Stop,” Doyle said. “Step back and let the shovels clear the debris.”

  Alexander was grateful for the break. He and the other two pickaxes, as Doyle called them, stepped back and let the team of shovel men dig away the rock and dirt they’d knocked loose. The process was the same all day long. Pickaxe the wall until they were standing in a pile of dirt and rock, then let the shovel men load the material into a cart, clearing the way for them to resume their relentless attack on the wall of earth.

  As gruff and hard a man as Doyle was, he didn’t care what his men did so long as they got the work done. Alexander, Hod, and Benny sat along the wall behind Doyle while the shovels loaded dirt into the cart.

  “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that we aren’t digging through any ore?” Alexander asked.

  Hod just shrugged. “Never worked in a mine before. Not sure I’d know what ore was if I saw it.”

  “We sometimes come across a vein,” Benny said. “They just cart it away like the rest of the dirt and rock.”

  “So what are we digging for?” Alexander asked.

  Benny and Hod shrugged in unison.

  “You dig because you’re told to,” Miles said, waiting by the cart being loaded by the shovels. He was a big man who looked like he’d been born in a mine. “If you do good work for long enough, they’ll let you join the Miners Guild. Better pay, better quarters, and no more collar.”

  “How long does that take?” Alexander asked.

  “I’ve been working for nearly ten years,” Miles said. “They tell me I’m almost there.”

  “How’d you become a slave in the first place?” Alexander asked.

  “My parents owed Lord Grant a debt, so they gave me up as payment when I turned sixteen,” Miles said with feigned indifference.

  Alexander felt his blood start to heat up again.

  “How about you, Benny?”

  “Oh, I was born into slavery,” Benny said. “My mom was owned by Lord Grant when I was born, so I belong to him as well.”

  Alexander took a slow deep breath. “Does that seem right to you?”

  “Hey!” Doyle shouted. “I won’t have any seditious talk in my mine. I don’t need the Acuna poking around in here, so keep your questions to yourself and get back to work.”

  Miles gave Alexander a warning look to reinforce Doyle’s words as the shovels in his detail started pushing the cart out of the tunnel.

  Alexander got to his feet with a dozen new questions swirling around in his head as he went back to work. Not long after, the hard, rocky dirt gave way to softer soil that made for easier digging. No sooner had they started making better headway than the ceiling collapsed. Alexander’s magic warned him of the danger a moment before it happened and he was able to grab Hod and pull him out of the way, but Benny was buried alive.

  Doyle blew his alarm whistle and started working to uncover Benny, yelling for Alexander and Hod to help him. They went to work almost frantically. Alexander could see Benny with his all around sight and his colors were starting to weaken.

  “He’s under here,” Alexander said, breathlessly scooping loose dirt away with his hands.

  Doyle didn’t argue, instead shifting his focus to the area where Alexander was working. Miles and his team came running up with shoring beams and went to work stabilizing the tunnel.

  It didn’t take long to reach Benny’s hand and from there dig away the dirt covering his head. He was unconscious but breathing. Moments later, they freed his other hand and pulled him from the loose dirt.

  Doyle picked him up with a grunt. “Miles, after you get this section shored up, get out until we can have inspectors take a look. You two, come with me.”

  Alexander looked back and thought he saw the remnants of some long-buried stonework, but he couldn’t be sure in the dark, even with his magical sight. If he could access the firmament and use his clairvoyance, he would have made a note to himself to explore this area later that night, but as it stood he would have to send Chloe to do his reconnaissance for him. Until he was ready to take off the slave collar, his most powerful magic wasn’t available to him.

  When they reached the main chamber, they were met by a number of healers who went to work on Benny. Not a minute later, a well-dressed man, perfectly groomed, wearing a gold ring on each hand and carrying a finely crafted, silver-shod walking stick, hurried into the chamber.

  “Supervisor Doyle, what’s happened to my man?” he asked urgently. Alexander could see from his colors that he had little if any concern for Benny.

  “Cave-in,” Doyle said. “Your man will be fine, Factor Laxman.”

  “That remains to be seen,” Laxman said. “I needn’t remind you that mine safety is the responsibility of the charter holder. If you get one of my guild members killed, you’re still responsible for paying his wages for a full year from the date of his death.”

  “I’m well aware of the agreement,” Doyle said. “Like I said, your man will be just fine.”

  “Perhaps the Slave Guild should exercise our right to demand a full inspection of the area in question,” Laxman mused aloud. “After all, the safety of our workers is our first concern. One can’t be too careful. That would, of course, shut you down for a few days though.”

  Doyle clenched his teeth and motioned for Laxman
to speak with him privately. They walked across the chamber and spoke in heated whispers for a few moments before Doyle handed Laxman a purse. The Slave Guild factor smiled graciously and turned to the miners who’d been called out of the tunnel.

  “I am pleased to report that Supervisor Doyle has assured me the mine is safe and work can continue,” Laxman said. “The injured miner will receive all of the care that he requires, and more importantly, his wages will continue to be paid by the Andalian Mining Company to the Slave Guild so that we may continue to provide for the well-being of all our valued members.” Seeming pleased with himself, Laxman strolled out of the chamber.

  Doyle stared daggers into the back of the man’s head.

  “What was that all about?” Alexander asked Miles, who had returned to the chamber and was resting nearby.

  “Factor Laxman represents the slaves in this mine,” Miles said. “He heard about the accident so he came to make sure the mine is still safe for us to work. Without the guild looking out for us, we’d all die down here.”

  Several minutes later, the inspectors came hurrying out of the tunnel and spoke in hushed tones with Doyle. He seemed frustrated with them and was shaking his head angrily, throwing up his hands when they pronounced that the tunnel was unstable. Visibly frustrated, he turned back to his work crew.

  “I suggest you men get some rest. It might be a while before we can get back to work.”

  Alexander closed his eyes and reached out for Chloe.

  “Can you take a look at the end of that tunnel? I thought I saw something that looked like worked stone.”

  “Of course,” Chloe said in his mind. A minute or so later, she said, “Send me your mind, My Love. You should see this.”

  Alexander found himself looking at a finely built, seamless stone wall covered with engraved characters, some of which he recognized from the magic circle. Everything was slightly translucent since Chloe was in the aether, but he could tell at a glance that the chamber was warded-and that the wards extended into the aether.

  “Have you ever seen anything like this?” he asked.

  “Only the wards surrounding the king’s chambers in the palace, but this seems even more ancient somehow.”

  “Stay away from those wards. I don’t want you to get hurt.” Alexander returned to his mind and opened his eyes. Titus Grant was speaking with Doyle, but he didn’t seem nearly as concerned as Doyle was about the situation.

  A few minutes later, the Babachenko entered, followed by four overseers. The miners all whispered urgently to one another for a moment, then fell deathly silent.

  “Lord Grant, I hear you’ve had an accident,” the Babachenko said.

  “We had a cave-in,” Grant said. “One man was buried for a few minutes, but it looks like he’ll be fine after some rest.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” the Babachenko said. “I also hear that you’ve made a discovery.”

  “That’s what my foreman tells me. I haven’t had a chance to take a look myself.”

  “Then I suggest we remedy that,” the Babachenko said.

  Thirty minutes later they emerged from the tunnel, the Babachenko’s colors swirling with excitement.

  “You may have just won this war for us, Lord Grant,” the Babachenko said. “I suggest you close this mine except for a few select men-slaves that you can afford to lose.”

  Grant nodded thoughtfully. “Slaves are expensive. I would hope, given the value of my contribution to the empire, that I’ll be adequately compensated.”

  “Of course, of course. We’ll discuss the particulars over lunch tomorrow. For now, this mine must be evacuated until we can determine if you have indeed found what we’ve been looking for.”

  “I hate to idle my slaves for too long,” Grant said. “They get restless, and I lose money for every day they aren’t working.”

  “We’ll discuss that as well,” the Babachenko said.

  “I only bring it up because we aren’t talking about silver or gems,” Grant said. “I don’t know how to place a value on …”

  The Babachenko held up his hand in stern warning. “Please, Lord Grant, have some discretion. We both know what may lie within that chamber, there’s no need to speak of it. Such words may fall on the wrong ears.”

  “As you wish,” Grant said. “I look forward to our lunch tomorrow.”

  “As do I,” the Babachenko said, motioning for the overseers to stand guard at the tunnel entrance before hurrying off.

  “Let’s get these men back to the barracks, Doyle,” Grant said. “This mine is closed.”

  “You heard the man,” Doyle said. “On your feet, leave your tools.”

  While Alexander was grateful for the reprieve from the hard labor of swinging a pickaxe, he was far more anxious about the discovery his team had unearthed. The Babachenko seemed to believe that whatever was behind the wall they’d found could affect the outcome of the war. Naturally, Alexander’s curiosity was eating at him.

  He considered having Chloe push his slave collar into the aether so he could use his clairvoyance and fully investigate, but he wasn’t ready to make his move yet. Once the collar came off, he would have to move quickly or risk revealing his true identity.

  His work detail was locked in their barracks, and except for meals, the guards had left them alone. Most of the slaves saw it as an opportunity to catch up on their sleep, but a few were still awake, Miles and Hod among them.

  “So what do you two think is going on in the mine?” Alexander asked.

  Hod just shrugged, shaking his head.

  Miles started to answer but stopped himself, looking around at the rest of the sleeping miners.

  “You know something?” Alexander pressed.

  He looked around again, leaning in close. “Not here,” he whispered, “the Acuna is watching.”

  “What do you mean? Who is this Acuna?”

  “The Acuna is the real power in Andalia,” Miles whispered, barely audibly. “Their spies are everywhere.”

  “What else can you tell me about them?”

  Miles shook his head, fear rippling through his colors. Alexander looked to Hod who just shrugged again.

  “All right, what can you tell me about the Babachenko? That’s kind of a funny name.”

  “It’s not his name, it’s his title,” Miles said. “The story says that the greatest mage in the history of Andalia saved the royal bloodline and rebuilt the country after the Reishi War. His name was Gerard Babachenko. He did a lot for the country, set up the government, started the guilds to protect workers, created the charter companies to ensure stable prices … he even rebuilt the Lancers after they’d been all but wiped out in the war. In honor of his memory, the leader of the Acuna takes his name as his title.”

  “I hear he takes more than the name,” Hod said.

  “That’s just superstitious nonsense,” Miles said, shaking his head.

  “What?” Alexander said, holding his hands out, urging one of them to continue.

  “The story says that the Babachenko doesn’t just inherit the name, he inherits the magic of the original Babachenko as well,” Hod said. “All the way back, they’ve been passing along their magic from one to the next.”

  “That’s just a story,” Miles said. “Everyone knows that’s not possible.”

  Alexander sat back, his mind alight with the ramifications-wizards passing on their connection to the firmament before they died, ensuring that the next generation would retain the power of the previous.

  “Little One?”

  “Yes, My Love?”

  “I need you to do some more searching for me. I suspect there’s a crystal vein with two chambers cut into it somewhere beneath the city or the palace. I need you to find it for me.”

  “I’ll start searching right away.”

  “Be careful, some of the wards in this city might be able to hurt you.”

  While Alexander sat against the wall, his eyes closed and mind racing, the ground began to rum
ble beneath him. All of the sleeping miners woke as the vibrations intensified.

  “What’s happening?” Hod asked, his eyes wide with fear.

  The shaking lasted for less than a minute, but it was strong enough to crack the walls in a number of places. They heard men running past their door. Then the dust settled and the room fell silent again, the other slaves holding their breath as if they were holding back the wrath of the ground beneath them.

  Just before lunchtime, Doyle opened the door. “Looks like we’re going back to work,” he said. “The tunnel we were digging collapsed-killed a whole crew of deep-shaft miners. We’re going to dig that tunnel back out and shore it up with stone.”

  Several of the miners looked to each other, confusion and worry plain on their faces.

  “We aren’t allowed to work stone,” Miles said. “That’s mason work.”

  Doyle gave the man a withering look. “I know that. Workers from the Andalian Masonry Company will be coming in to build the tunnel into a stone corridor as we cut it. The Babachenko ordered Lord Grant to make this tunnel his first priority … that’s just unheard of. They must want whatever’s in there real bad, and if I know Lord Grant, they’re going to pay dearly for it.”

  “But the ground just shook,” one of the miners said. “How can we know it’ll be safe down there?”

  “You want a guarantee?” Doyle said. “I guarantee you that someday you’re going to die. Other than that, I got nothing. Be ready to go to work after lunch.”

  ***

  In the days that followed, Doyle worked them even harder, probably because of the six overseers standing behind him. Fortunately, the dirt and rocks were loose and easy to move compared to the packed earth they’d been digging through a few days before.

  While the digging was easier, the forward progress was slower because the masons had to shore up the tunnel every five feet lest the unstable ceiling collapse again. None of the miners complained about the frequent breaks, instead using the time to nap or gossip about the rumors that seemed to materialize out of thin air in Mithel Dour.