“Wake up!” a voice was saying in an urgent whisper. “But keep quiet! And come with me, quick, before the others wake up!”
Mattias, confused and bleary-eyed, obeyed without hesitation. He realised that the breeze was dying down and everything was dark because the fire had almost burnt out. In the gloom, he saw only the outlines of sleeping figures, lying on the ground near the embers.
A resolute hand pulled him away and led him swiftly through the trees to the road. They ran as fast as they were able to until the man began to tire and slowed down. Mattias’s legs were almost buckling under him with the effort.
“Why are we running?” he asked, panting.
“Because they want to hurt you.”
Mattias considered this for a moment. “Are you Olaves?”
“Yeah! How’d you know that?”
“I heard you in the night but I thought it was a dream. Oh! My clothes!”
Mattias was wearing only a few knotted rags that were much too big for him and they stank. What was more, they itched and rubbed uncomfortably.
“They took all your stuff. Going to sell it.”
“That’s awful,” said Mattias. “Are they so poor? And they’d harm me, you say? Why? I can’t believe that.”
“That’s the way of the world, boy. First rule of life. Kill or get killed.”
“Then why did you help me? Why would you save me from harm?”
“You’ve got real strange eyes, boy! They sort of pull you in towards them, like... Can’t think what got into me because I’m not God’s best child, and that’s the truth. But I wanted to treat you right for some reason. Dunno why.”
“Thank you a thousand times, Mr. Olaves. Will you take me home? To Graastensholm?”
“To Akershus? Never! It’s much too far. Nah, I’ll take you to a good man, name o’ Nermarken. He’ll give you work and you can earn some coins to pay your way home. You gotta have something to live off while you travel.”
“Is it very far to Akershus, then?”
“Is it far? It’d be like walking to Heaven on an empty stomach. Nah, Nermarken’s your man. He’ll see you right.”
Mattias gave this some thought and said: “Then I’m grateful for your kindness, Olaves.”
“So we go to Nermarken, right?”
“Yes, we will,” agreed Mattias, and when he heard this, Olaves looked very pleased with himself.
They trudged onwards and as the new day dawned, Mattias could see what Olaves looked like. He could certainly not be described as handsome. Stout and unshaven, scabby and ragged, his eyes darted everywhere and never met Mattias’s gaze directly. Judging by the ingrained dirt, his hands hadn’t seen water in a year and a day, or to be more accurate, one of his hands hadn’t – the other was missing.
But he’d saved the boy’s life. No doubt about that.
They walked all day and passed through a small village with a market square as they went. When they were back on the open road, Olaves suddenly produced bread, sausage and vegetables from his badly worn pocket. Mattias wondered how he’d worked such magic – he was sure it had been empty earlier in the day. They sat down beside a stream and ate their fill before continuing until nightfall. After spending the night on a wooded slope, they arrived at their destination late the following day.
It occurred to Mattias that they’d not seen the open sea for some time, although they’d been walking along the banks of a wide river on the last part of their journey.As they walked, Olaves told Mattias about the wretched life he’d been born into and how, as a child, he’d learned to be a beggar and a thief. He recounted the number of times he’d been rewarded with a beating for his efforts, and how they’d cut off his hand to punish him for stealing.
Had he ever been in the stocks, Mattias wondered? Oh, yes, many times over. He said he believed that he was about forty years old and didn’t think he was destined for a long and happy life.
“But can’t you find work?” asked Mattias innocently.
“Oh! And who’d want the likes of me? This hand gives me away, y’see.”
“That’s sad, Olaves. But what about Nermarken? If he’s so kind, can’t he give you work?”
Olaves quickly brushed the idea aside, saying he couldn’t burden Mr. Nermarken with his pitiful troubles.
A few minutes later, he announced that they’d arrived at their destination.
Mattias stared wide-eyed at several dingy rows of sheds and strange towers that looked like barracks. Then his gaze focused on a great gaping hole in the earth. It was a hideous and frightening sight. Further off stood an enormous wheel that was scooping water out of the ground. With Olaves leading the way, they walked over and entered one of the sheds where a very rotund man looked up at them. The chair on which the man was sitting was almost hidden from view by the mounds of his flesh. Mattias realised immediately that this was Nermarken.
Looking swiftly around to make sure that he wasn’t overheard, Nermarken spoke directly to Mattias. “So, young man, you’d like to work at Kongsberg’s silver mine, would you?”
His smile caused his little piggy eyes to disappear beneath wrinkles of fat. He stared unpleasantly at the boy for a long moment as he waited for his reply.
“Yes,” replied Mattias at last. “I’d like to earn some money so that I can return to my Mum. She’s waiting for me.”
Olaves had told Mattias not to mention that his granddad was a notary. This might make Nermarken think that he was too grand to work in a mine and not give him a job. This seemed like good sense to Mattias, so he’d willingly complied.
When Nermarken heard the reason that Mattias wanted to work in the mines, he laughed out loud, which caused his whole body to shake.
“Of course! We’ll sort out your pay later ... but I’ll start you right away. Come with me!”
Olaves coughed and stretched out his hand pointedly. The fat man dropped a few coins onto his palm and without a word of goodbye to the boy, Olaves was gone.
Nermarken looked outside and when he was satisfied that nobody was watching, he signalled to Mattias to follow him. With all the speed that Nermarken’s excess blubber would allow, they hurried across to a large hole in the earth where they climbed down a long ladder to reach an underground passage.
At the foot of the ladder, Nermarken picked up one of several lanterns. “Come on!” he whispered secretively, pulling Mattias after him into the dark deep unknown.
Mattias was frightened. It was horribly dark and he could hear the sound of dripping water everywhere. He tried without success to pull away from the large, fat hand that held him.
“I don’t think I want to work here ...” he began uncertainly. “I don’t like it.”
Nermarken’s sweaty grip tightened. “Come on now. No tricks! You’re working here now and it’s too late to be getting homesick!”
Mattias swallowed hard and said nothing more as they walked on along a very lengthy tunnel. Whenever they met anyone, Nermarken shaded the lantern and pushed Mattias in front of him into a dark side passage.
At last they reached what looked like the mysterious centre of the earth itself, or at least that was how it appeared to Mattias. It was a vast shaft, lit very dimly with flaming tar-sticks, and Mattias saw a man walking back and forth, yelling at the workers in broken Norwegian.
They approached the man and Nermarken muttered: “Hauber! Take care of this one. He’s thin and wiry and he’ll make a good replacement for the one we lost.”
“He’s a skinny one alright,” growled Hauber angrily. He was evidently not a pleasant individual and he made no effort to be polite. “He’ll do though – once we’ve drilled into him what’s to be done!”
Nermarken turned to Mattias. “This is the overseer and you’ve to do what he says without any question. If you don’t, he knows just how to deal with the likes of you.”
Then he turned and left without another word.
Mattias learned soon enough what Hauber wanted. Mattias was one of four young boys working in this shaft who were sent to clear out small, freshly opened seams and ledges that had been dug during the day – often too narrow for a grown man to reach.
The work was incredibly dangerous for these boys – something that Mattias didn’t fully understand until later. He thought of it only as a horrid place where he imagined scary toads and snakes, even trolls perhaps, were lying in wait for him in the dark recesses they ordered him to explore. Using the small axe they’d given him, he had to break out small samples of rock and take them back to the men who’d decide whether or not the seam was worth digging out.
Because they were able to squeeze through narrow openings and fissures, small boys also had their uses in digging out the tunnels after a rock fall had blocked the way. On the first evening, Mattias learned a lot more. Of course he couldn’t know that it was evening, but he thought that it must be since all the grown men packed up to leave.
Stretching out his aching back, he made to follow them.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Hauber the overseer yelled at him. “Where d’you think you’re going? You stay in there with the others.”
He pointed to a little nook in the tunnel that widened to form a way through to what could only be described as a small chamber where a big stove crackled and flickered, making the area pleasantly warm. A brick chimney led up to the rocky ceiling so they were perhaps not as far below ground as he’d imagined at first. During the day, the stove had many uses, not least as a forge for repairing tools, but at night it was the only source of warmth for those few workers who were left behind to sleep in the mine – the young pit-boys.
The other three boys were already there and they watched Mattias with curiosity as he took off the heavy leather animal-skin that he’d been given to cover his back from his head to his knees.
“Mother o’ God,” exclaimed one of them, a nasty-looking boy about eleven years old. “They’ve started takin’ on infants now!”
“What’s your name?” asked another, the oldest of the three whose voice was breaking. He seemed kinder and friendlier, thought Mattias.
“I’m Mattias Meiden,” he replied uncertainly. “I’m eight years old. Who are you?”
He learned that the nasty-looking one was called Søren.
The eldest boy’s name was Kaleb – a name that sounded strange to Mattias who was unaware that it was as biblical a name as his own. The third boy, whose hands and feet were bound with gauze, was Knut.
“Knut is thirteen,” explained Kaleb. “He’s been here longer than all o’ us. Got rheumatism now and can’t walk. Can’t see properly either. Sick on his chest an’ all, he is.”
“That’s bad,” Mattias replied. “Can’t you take him to a doctor?”
He was surprised at the bitter laughter that his question triggered.
“We were four until last week,” Kaleb said in his calm voice. “Then the boy whose place you’ve taken had an accident.”
“Happens to all of us sooner or later,” Søren said coldly. “They send us down tunnels they don’t trust – then bang! Without any warning you’re trapped and buried!”
“You mean ... it all falls down?”
“That’s right, my little one! A lot of young boys end their days down here!”
“But they mustn’t do that ...” Mattias started to say.
“No, they mustn’t,” interrupted Kaleb. “But those who’ve got the say over all this, they don’t know anything about us down here. Anybody who tries to tell them gets found out. And accidents happen so easily in a mine! They throw us these scraps of food most days, like we’re dogs!”
“But when will we be going up again?” asked Mattias, his bottom lip beginning to quiver.
“Up?” repeated Knut bitterly. “I haven’t seen the sun in three years! You see what I look like!”
“But ...” Mattias was struggling to hold back his tears. “I was supposed to have work and earn money to make my way home to my Mum. She’ll be fretting over me, my poor dear mum!”
“Forget wages,” Søren said harshly. “Be grateful you’re alive. At least it’s warm down here – and the constable can’t find you.”
“The constable?” Mattias gave him a disconcerting stare. “Why, the constable’s a kind man! He’s my granddad’s friend.”
“Friend of the constable? Nobody’s friends with him! Are you a little goody-goody snake in the grass or something?”
“Now, now!” Kaleb warned him. “Can’t you hear that this boy’s got more class than we have? Get some sleep, boys. There’ll be more hard graft waiting for us tomorrow.”
They gave him a mat for his bed and Mattias lay down and closed his eyes, but try as he may, he couldn’t fall asleep. His fingernails had been torn and were hurting terribly. The ends of his fingers were cut and bleeding and so were his knees. And it felt as if his back was broken in several places. The rough scraps of clothing he’d been left with were probably infested with lice or fleas. They scratched his skin and made every part of him itch, while stone dust filled his nostrils and matted his hair.
As he struggled to fall asleep, Mattias felt tears trickle down his cheeks. He tried hard to stifle a few pitiful sobs, but failed. It had all been too much for him. When Kaleb heard, he shuffled over and sat down beside him.
“Don’t weep, Mattias. It’ll turn out right, you’ll see. We’ll get you back home to your Mum and Dad.”
Mattias turned his head and looked at the older boy. “Yes, but how?” he asked tearfully.
“Nah! I don’t know yet. But I’ll think of something!”
“Will you come, too?”
“No, nowhere to go. I was stupid. I left home to earn wages while I was too young. There were fourteen of us at home in a small cottage with a tiny piece of land. Only the first-born could inherit, so one by one we others were sent packing. I left before they told me to go and made my way here.”
“To Nermarken?”
“Yeah, to that wretch. He could see that I was too young to work – I was only thirteen then – but because I was skinny and could get into the small crannies, he smuggled me down here. So here I am, and not a soul up there knows anything about it.”
“Have you been here two whole years?”
“No, I’m not yet fifteen. Let’s say about a year. I’ve lost count – it feels like forever.”
“It’s now the summer of 1633.”
Kaleb worked out the numbers slowly before letting out a loud exclamation: “Gawd! Then I am fifteen. Dear Lord, what a long time!”
“I think you look very well.”
“That’s because I’m strong and I’ve not had any accidents. Søren, he’s strong and all – but he wants to be down here.”
“Has he done something foolish?” Mattias asked in a whisper.
“Absolutely!” grinned Kaleb. “If he goes up, it’ll be the stocks for sure ... or worse!” Slowly he drew his forefinger across his throat from ear to ear.
“But he’s only a boy, like us!” exclaimed Mattias, horrified.
“He’s killed a couple of men so he could rob them. They don’t care how old you are when it’s murder.”
“Oh!” was all the younger boy could think of saying and he hurriedly changed the subject.
“What about Knut?” he asked instead, and when Kaleb just sighed in response, Mattias decided to ask another question. “He isn’t being chased by the constable, is he?”
“No! He’s an orphan and just got caught and sent here. They took him because two of the pit boys got killed at once. But you’re the youngest we’ve had so far. It’s too bad they got you because you don’t belong here at all.”
“When I get out, I’ll tell Granddad of this and he’ll come and save you all.”
“I don’t like punishment,” said Mattias slowly. “Granddad always says it’s better to prevent than to punish. I don’t know what he means. But Granddad’s always right.”
“Who’s your granddad?”
Mattias leaned close and whispered: “I had to promise not to tell Nermarken but I can tell you. He’s the notary in Akershus.”
Kaleb was dumbstruck for a moment. Then he found his tongue again. “My Gawd! What’ve they done now? Just don’t you tell anybody, do you hear me? If you do, you’ll have an ‘accident’ and that’s the truth! You’ll be much too dangerous for them.”
“But the men who work here are kind, aren’t they?”
“Of course they are! But they’ve got to think of their own jobs and Hauber whips them into line. Lots of them are foreigners who don’t speak our language. Others are farm boys on forced labour. One or two of the hewers are good to us. You’ll find out pretty quick which ones they are. Hauber’s the overseer. You know him and he’s the devil personified. The banks-men – they’re the ones that sort the rock at the pit head – you’ll never get to know them. They won’t help us ...”
“Kaleb, I think I’ve got lice!”
“I reckon you probably have.”
“But what will my mum say? And Grandma? She’s very particular about staying clean.”
Kaleb felt a lump in his throat. “We’ll see if we can’t wash you and those clothes of yours tomorrow,” he told Mattias although he very much doubted it would be possible.
“I feel so miserable, Kaleb.”
“You’ve got a way with words, and that’s the truth,” smiled the older boy. “Now you try and get some sleep.”
“Yes, I will ... and Kaleb?”
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to be a baby, but will you hold my hand? Just for tonight?”
“Course I will.”
Mattias felt a big strong hand grip his own small hand. The skin was coarse and scarred from hard work and badly healed sores, but Mattias found great comfort in its warm grasp.
Evil Legacy Page 6