Interlude I

Clang.

Clang.

Clang.

He brought the pickaxe behind his shoulder again, readying another swing. At this point, he no longer got sore. He no longer got tired. He no longer cared.

This was his life after all. An endless cycle of work and sleep. The more he mined, the more he earned. By the time the mine was empty, he would have enough to care for his family until he died. 

Just a few years of hell. Then the rest will be peaceful.

Golin couldn't wait to see his family again. His beautiful wife, his daughter of three, and his newborn son, who he'd yet to meet. 

The stone crumbled in front of him, chunks cracking to the ground, sending up clouds of dust that made his lungs burn.

Coughing, Golin brought the pickaxe back again. 

The cavern began to shake, slightly at first. It quickly intensified, knocking him to his knees. Was this it? A cave in? Would he be crushed by debris? Trapped down here until he died of suffocation?

The stone wall that he'd been working on began to crack, just as the shaking subsided. 

Golin looked around, waiting for the shaking to start again. 

Looks like it's over.

Something caught his eye, even in the dim torchlight. He stepped forward carefully, peering inside the crack of the stone. Just inside, only inches beneath the surface, was a massive chunk of glistening gold. 

It couldn't be. Golin blinked with surprise. Swinging back his axe, he began to break apart the stone. 

The amount of gold beneath began to grow. 

This…this is it. I've won. If I mine this vein, my cut will be enough that I can quit. I can return home. My family….

Laughter escaped his throat, bouncing off the cave walls. Relief rushed through his body as tears seeped from his eyes. 

Without wasting another moment, Golin set to work. He brought his pickaxe back, as he'd done so many times. But now, Golin felt stronger. He felt like with each strike, he gained energy. Gained motivation to strike harder the next time.

This was it. The final few strikes. Soon, very soon, he would be rich.

"You lucky bastard," a voice said from behind him. Golin glanced over his shoulder, recognizing the man even though his face was obscured by shadows. Sir Amerin was a hulking man, his arms as big as Golin's torso. They were arms that had worked in the mines for years on end, striking at the endless resistance of stone and precious metals. 

Under King Styte's orders, Sir Amerin ran miles of mines underneath the Peaks of Moldu, the largest mountain region in the world. Over the past year, multiple men had struck veins of gold so thick a horse couldn't tow it out alone. 

Sir Amerin himself was known for finding the most. In fact, he'd singlehandedly found half the payload. 

"Very lucky," Golin responded, turning his back to Sir Amerin. "It seems today is my day. The day my life is changed forever."

"Damn right," Sir Amerin muttered. "Ah, have you asked for a wagon yet?"

"No. I'll do that as soon as I finish."

"Of course," Sir Amerin said, bowing his head. "Would you like a hand?"

Golin glanced back at him. "No. That would mean I'm giving up part of my share for the work you've done. This is my job, Sir."

"As you wish," he said. "I'll return in an hour to check on your progress. If you want to finish that today, you'll need to be quick."

"Understood," Golin said shortly. 

He began chipping away at the stone, breaking it away until only gold remained.

This vein just keeps going, he thought giddily. Maybe it'll be enough to buy new land! Build a new home…a new life.

An hour or so later, the gold vein had been completely separated from the stone. Now it was time to harvest it. 

Golin set down his pickaxe and began making his way through the tunnels. Some stretched for miles, and you had to know the layout, or you could get lost forever. 

The entire mine was mostly deserted. It seemed everyone had finished for the day.

Golin was nearly at the entrance now, where the cavern opened up so wide, he couldn't see where either side ended. A bridge connected the two sides, where a chasm stretched below. Hundreds of feet of what had once been stone and gold had since been mined away. 

"Ah, there you are," said Sir Amerin as he crossed the bridge toward Golin. "Are you ready for the wagon?"

"Yes, I am Sir. I've mined all of it."

"Impressive. Like I said, you're a lucky bastard. Most others will spend the rest of their lives down here, trying to make a profit off of even the smallest flecks of gold."

"I've done my time. My cut of that gold will provide for me and my family for all the years to come," Golin said with relief. It really was over. "Why don't you ever retire, Sir Amerin?"

"Why would I?"

"Well, you've worked in the mines longer than almost everyone here. You've found veins larger than I did today. You're the lucky one. Yet you still mine away, risking your life to cave-ins every day. Why?"

Sir Amerin stepped forward, close enough that Golin could smell mead on his breath. "Because of what I gain. I've become one of the richest men in Erosia. You want to know how? It's not luck."

Golin frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I'm smart. That's all," Sir Amerin whispered, leaning in. He pointed into the chasm beneath them. "Look down there. What do you see?"

Golin leaned over the bridge, peering into the darkness. "Nothing. What am I supposed to see?"

"Your end."

He felt his legs lifted up, and Golin flipped over the other side of the bridge. In a desperate attempt, he managed to grasp onto one of the floorboards, the splintery wood cutting gashes into his fingertips.

Sir Amerin raised his boot over Golin's hand.

"Wait!" Golin cried. "Wait, please! You can have the gold! My entire cut! It's yours!"

Sir Amerin smiled. "I know."

He slammed his boot onto Golin's fingers, crushing his bones.

He felt his grip loosen, and then he was falling.

It seemed his luck had run out.

Closing his eyes, Golin embraced the darkness.

*******

"Wake up, you bastards," Sir Amerin said, giving a pile of blankets a kick. He stood in a log building, an old, crumbling thing. Many miners who had no homes would stay there overnight, hoping for some protection from the extreme cold. 

Two tired faces poked up from underneath. 

"What the hell do you-" One of them started. When they saw Sir Amerin's face, they threw aside the blankets and stood up straight. 

"Sir Amerin," the other said. "What is it?"

"I've struck another payload. Go and finish mining it for me. One ounce for each of you to see it done."

"Of course, Sir."

The other frowned. "And what will you do?"

Sir Amerin tried to contain a smile. "I have a long overdue visit with His Grace. A year ago, he gave me a goal to accomplish. One million pounds of gold. That's how much he wanted from me. Today, I've done it. In return, King Styte will make me a General."