The Broken Kingdoms of Osvolta (Kingdoms of Osvolta #1)

56. What a Real Mine Looks Like

Chapter fifty-six

What a Real Mine Looks Like

I n the grasslands to the west of the Jewelled Jungle, halfway between North Watch and Evrosei Mine, Solveig made camp for the night. Not wanting to push the stallion too far. They wandered down to the river, giving the magnificent black and tan creature the opportunity to drink. Then she laid out some hay and carrots that the keepers at North Watch had packed with her. Before she headed back down to the river to fish for her dinner, something to add to the rice and pulses the chef had given her.

She rose with the sun the next morning, packing quickly to set off before the birds had even stopped their chorus. They raced across the drier terrain of Farrenhold. The towering trees of the Jewelled Jungle were still visible on the eastern horizon as they neared Evrosei.

If Luxenal were to be considered merely a mine, then Evrosei was a palace by comparison. There was no echoing orchestra of clashing chains, no torn clothing, or gaunt faces. Nor the terrible cry of a crashing whip. Armed guards were nowhere to be seen. Because the men, women and children who spent their days digging out the precious jewels and metals from the shafts below her feet were here by choice. And were paid handsomely for the hardship.

In Evrosei, there were no cramped and stinking quarters, only family homes and shared homes for those who didn’t bring family with them. They weren’t large by any means, but they were dry, and private.

“Can I help you?” a man with kind brown eyes asked. He wore what Solveig assumed was standard issue uniform, copper toed boots and heavy-duty overalls.

“I’m here to see Warden Etana. His brother Jasper sent me. The name is Solveig Maleen.” The man’s eyes lit up in recognition.

“If it isn’t the Reaper of Luxenal at our gates.” He smiled warily. “Got to be honest, love, not sure I should let you in. Word has it you’re cursed.” He leaned closer, whispering as though something evil lurked, “They say people drop dead wherever you go.”

“And here I thought the people of Farrenhold no longer listened to myths and legends.” The man chuckled at that, standing back with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Wait here, I’ll go fetch the Warden. He can be the one to let you in.”

As the guard wandered away, Solveig set about removing her supplies from the horse. Not stopping until everything, but the saddle and reins, remained. Her back was to the gate when a rough voice called out.

“If it isn’t the hero of Farrenhold,” she turned to see Eleric leaning against the gates. Even as the warden, he wore the same standard issue clothing as the previous man. A patch sewn to the front of his overalls, denoting his position, differentiated them. Sweat decorated his deep brown skin, gleaming under the afternoon sun. His silver-grey eyes shimmered as a broad smile grew on his face.

“What brings you to Evrosei? Come for some tips?” he jested, as he wiped his hands clean on the trousers of his uniform.

“I’m headed to Trivellian. Jasper ordered me to stop by and have the stallion tended to on the way.” Eleric looked at the horse beside her then.

“Come on,” he said, as he unlocked the gate and heaved it open. “I’ll give you the tour, show you what a real mine looks like.” His eyes glimmered as he spun on his heel.

Solveig fell into step beside Eleric as they walked toward one row of buildings. Workers waved to their Warden as they passed, smiles on their faces as Eleric led her inside.

“Afternoon, Davos,” he called to the man sat behind a desk, “need to pick up some boots and overalls for my friend here.” Davos only grunted in reply, as Prince Eleric dragged her off down the hall, fishing a stacked set of keys from one of his many pockets.

“Davos has been knocking around this place for as long as I can remember,” he laughed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say more than ten words.”

Eleric opened a door and led her inside. He rummaged through racks and bins before throwing clothes in her direction.

“Those are about your size. I’ll give you a minute to change. Can’t have you wandering around a working mine without protection now, can I? You’d ruin my streak of accident-free days, and I’ve got shares riding on it.”

Solveig stared down at the clothing in her hands and the boots on the floor next to her. All of it was in stark contrast to the standard issue grey tunic and pants they doled out at Luxenal. The material was so thin it tore within the first day and stood no chance of keeping out the chill. The boots were a work of art, compared to the nonsensical fabric espadrilles they gave out in Luxenal. In truth, it was no surprise that many of the prisoners who survived often went home with at least one foot amputated. Sometimes both.

Once changed, she headed back outside to where Eleric appeared to be having an entirely one-sided conversation with Davos. The prince snatched her clothes, chucking them behind the man’s desk.

“Hey!” she exclaimed.

“Don’t worry,” he laughed. “I’ll have someone bring ‘em to your room before dinner, and besides, Davos doesn’t mind.” They turned to the man. “Right, Davos?”

He only grunted in response.

“See,” Eleric said, humour in his gaze as he turned back to her, “let’s go, the tour won’t wait and we’re losing light fast.”

They traversed the vast open dirt of Evrosei for hours. Talking about everything, except Malik and the rescue. Eleric explained how many of the people who lived at Evrosei didn’t work in the deep dark earth digging for gems. There was a whole host whose jobs were to nurture the farmlands, harvesters, cooks, cleaners, laundry staff, all paid handsomely. Most everyone here worked in intervals, six months on, two months off. The mine closed for two weeks over solstice, allowing all operations to cease so everyone could see their families at their most sacred time of year. Even though the solstice was no longer a recognised celebration on the mainland.

For the Harvest Festival, which was little more than a week away now, the workers would all celebrate on site with a spread delivered from Trivellian.

Luxenal stopped for nothing, not the sick, injured, or dying. And here was Evrosei, shutting down for a fortnight long party. It was like they lived in a dream.

That night, the cool autumn air swept in through the window of the princess’s guest room. She tangled in the sheets and pillows. Battling mental images and voices, from fanciful places with looming stone arches. Their centres swirling a sparkling black. To obsidian halls with red glass windows and some other place, with trees covered in twinkling lights. Silver walkways leading to small huts nestled in the branches of trees that towered so high they almost pierced the sky.

At first the images were wondrous, breathtaking, the promise of far-off worlds waiting to be explored. A place where life was untouched by the seedy black underbelly of corruption that had taken hold across mainland Osvolta.

She heard voices that were joyous, carefree laughter travelled along the wind until it twisted. The stench of sulphur and ash filled her nose and clogged her throat. Her skin felt as though it were set alight as she stared down at a bubbling, roiling magma chamber. A voice as cold and old as Osvolta itself echoed through her mind.

“Remember, I see all. I know all. You cannot run forever.”

Solveig woke with a start. Sweat drenched her skin and hair, breaths coming in short, frantic pants. Try as she might, she couldn’t banish the stench or taste of the nightmare as the eerie voice snaked around her mind. She was running out of time.

The room was dark as she fumbled for her clothes. Packing what little belongings she had brought with her, before quickly heading out. There was barely a soul in sight as she ran for the stables. Inside stood her stallion, her companion from North Watch already awake, as if it had sensed she was coming and needed to get away quickly. She loaded up their things, grabbing a small bale of hay strapping it to the back of the saddle as best she could before they rode off into the night.

The further away she travelled from Evrosei, the fainter the stench and taste of sulphur became. Until it was merely a memory that she could try to convince herself was truly nothing more than a bad dream.