Chapter 4

'There it is, they're coming!' Flora called. She scurried off from her watch to warn the others.

The trap doors swung open and the personnel lift of The Righteous Anglian Mining Company Of Our Lady's Hallowed Earth began its descent.

'I hope the ore's had enough time to charge. With the poor quality of the load this time, we need every last minute in the beam,' Henry said as he hoisted the sacks down.

'There's no way of knowing which bag has good rock, so we may as well grab one each and hope for the best,' said Irene.

'Good luck everyone,' said Zachary.

'We all know someone isn't going to have good luck because their bag will be full of rubbish, don't we?' Percy gave a snarky response.

'Shut up Percy, you know what he means,' said Flora.

'Well it's true!' Percy retorted with sleep-deprived grumpiness.

'Then I hope it's you!' Flora clapped back.

In the hurry to reach the lift before it touched down, Aisling's bag snagged and tore. The ore inside spilled among the rocks. Even by the dim light of her lantern she could see with dismay that her bag was already filled with off-cuts and overburden.

Aisling scooped handfuls back into the ruptured sack, but much of it was lost in between loose stones. In her desperation to bring the bag back up to weight, Aisling stuffed the gold nugget inside.

The Company's lift jerked to a halt, this time a short distance before it crashed to the ground.

'By God, Corporal, you'll get it right one of these days, so help me!' The Duchess's muffled scream could be heard from inside.

The lift jerked down further, again came to an abrupt halt, but had still not met the ground.

'Corporal!' There was a joint yell from the Duchess and Sergeant.

'Sergeant, don't shout over me!' The Duchess shrieked.

The lift jerked down a couple of times more, until it came to land on the cavern floor with the gentlest touch, and the doors were hauled open.

'…can't help it, stopping a short way above ground like that. 'Least I'm not crashing to the ground like before. It's hard to time it,' the Corporal gave a petulant stream of mumbling excuses.

The Sergeant clutched his belly and looked unwell from the motion, and the Duchess stood with her eyes screwed shut and nostrils flared as she fought with her temper.

'We have arrived for the first weekly exchange of supplies and goods delivery. Our Lady be praised,' the Duchess announced in a strained voice. Veins stood out on her neck.

The Duchess performed the hand gesture of the order of The Righteous Anglian Mining Company of Our Lady's Hallowed Earth. The gesture was mimicked by the Sergeant and Corporal with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

'In register order, I want you to approach the lift with your delivery where it will be quality checked and weighed. Supplies shall then be dispensed according to satisfaction. Are we clear?' The Duchess' voice rang out and dislodged a nearby stalactite.

The miners gave a hotchpotch variety of responses, varying from "We are clear," "Clear ma'am" or "Yes, we understand."

'Who said that?' snapped the Sergeant. 'One of you said "Yes, your majesty."

The miners remained silent.

'Well, own up! Which cheeky sod said that?' roared the Sergeant. He leaned in past the lift's doorframe to glare at the miners.

This manoeuvre was quite a reach for the Sergeant, due to how the Duchess stood in the doorway.

In attempting to do so, the Sergeant inadvertently placed a hand on one of the Duchess' hefty flanks.

'Sergeant, clean out your ears,' hissed the Duchess. She had a tone so chilling that it made the Sergeant shudder as though someone walked over his grave. 'And remove your hand!'

The Sergeant realised where his hand rested and removed it as if it were placed on a lit stove.

'Pardon m'lady,' exclaimed the Sergeant. He rotated a finger in one of his hairy ears. 'My hearing might be going. Me ears keep ringing, for some reason.'

'The correct response would be to say "yes, ma'am,"' the Duchess gave a prim instruction to the miners.

'Blythe, Zachary,' the Duchess read from her list. 'Present your delivery.'

Trembling, Zachary picked up his sack and carried it to the lift.

With what seemed like no effort at all, the Duchess swept up the sack with one hand, and laid it on a set of scales in the lift. She noted the weight, put on a glove, then dug around in the sack for a chunk.

The Duchess produced the silver pendulum from its resting place deep within her bodice and dangled it over the chunk. The way the pendulum dangled and spun in response was noted before the Duchess gave a hum of satisfaction and ticked her register.

The Duchess examined Zachary with an excoriating stare before she waved him away and gestured for the Corporal to collect the sack. Zachary breathed a sigh of relief.

'Cotswold, Flora,' the Duchess read the next name on her list.

Flora made a hesitant way to the goods lift as her eyes prickled. She recognised the grubby bag she had drawn that was brought up to weight with scree.

'Please ma'am, I haven't… this ore wasn't…' Flora stammered and held the sack out.

The sack was snatched up by a scowling Duchess and dumped on the scales. She plunged in her gloved hand and let a fistful of broken shards and crumbling dust spill from her grip.

'The ore seam is drying up,' Flora said in a quiet voice. 'Ma'am.'

The Duchess held her pendulum over a handful of broken pieces and watched, face curling in bemusement, at the lacklustre twitch it made.

'This is unacceptable. Flora Cotswold, next week you shall be required to produce two sacks of charged ore of acceptable quality plus fifteen per cent interest by volume; the total weight comprising no less than… fifty-nine point eight pounds.' The Duchess dropped the sack near Flora's work boots and scribbled on her register.

Becoming teary-eyed, Flora gawped at the huge number, but was wise enough to say nothing.

'Don't just stand there like you're trying to catch flies, return to the line. Although, I am curious about your comment of the seam drying up. Can you kindly elaborate? Oh, pull yourself together, Miss Cotswold. Don't start snivelling. Can anyone else elucidate on this matter?' The Duchess' voice rang out.

'Irene Petra; our resident would-be union representative, you've usually got something to say!' called the Duchess.

'Please ma'am, the ore in the seam is getting sparse and of lower quality. Two pits are running out and the third… we can't mine it any more.' Irene tried to meet the stare of the Duchess and speak boldly, but faltered.

'What do you mean, you can't mine it any more?' the Duchess demanded.

'It's not under our control any more. We're not alone down here,' Irene said in a low voice.

'I won't have any talk of ghosts and goblins! Any rumours of things that go bump in the night are but rumours, and the company will not hear such nonsense otherwise!' The Duchess trilled.

'I didn't say it was ghosts and goblins…' Irene began, turning pink-faced in anger.

'Listen, I didn't become the woman I am today, or get where I am today, by pitiful snivelling - pull yourself together, Miss Cotswold – or by being spooked by crude superstitions and make-believe. Get back to that seam and sort it out! Aisling Crossley, present your delivery,' the Duchess rapped out.

Aisling brought her torn sack of ore to the lift. She dragged her feet as might the condemned while they were led to the gallows. She had to hold both the neck and base of the bag shut where it had ruptured, but even still, grains of dust slipped out.

'Please ma-am, the bag split,' she explained.

'I can tell just by looking that this one's light!' The Duchess scolded as she snatched it up and dropped it on the scales. She shoved her hand within the sack, and frowned. The first thing she felt and closed her hand around was a large, smooth chunk on top.

The Duchess' eyes widened as she brought the gold nugget into view.

'What is this? Why, it's beautiful. Big as an orange,' the Duchess breathed. From within her overcoat she produced an eyeglass and studied the nugget up close by light of the chandelier. 'Yes, it's real gold, not pyrites, and of what quality!' Her brash, commanding voice had taken on a softer, more wondrous tone.

The Duchess looked at the silver pendulum on her wrist. It pointed up towards the nugget with such insistence that it defied gravity.

'Where did you get this?' The Duchess asked, with urgency.

'We mined it, near the North pit,' Aisling lied.

'You need to get back in there. I want more. Whatever stopped you from mining there, you need to deal with it, and bring more. I'll forgive any deliveries that aren't up to standard, just this once, and we can forget about any interest. Never mind about the iron ore for next week either. Gather as much of this as you find, and I shall offer you a premium. Let's see… two pounds Sterling per ounce that you bring me. That'll go straight to you, not the debt, to be used at your discretion.'

'Sergeant, have all the supplies unloaded. Percy Fairchild, you might as well dump your delivery in the lift, whatever it may contain. I'll look at it later,' ordered the Duchess.

The Duchess waited until the weekly supplies had been unloaded before addressing the miners. It also included extra tins and boxes which, at a guess, were held back for rewards.

'You have now been here one week. I expect that you will have made some headway into settling into the chapel and establishing some form of routine. With this in mind, are there any supplies that you require which are not included within our usual provisions?' Appearing to come down from the giddy excitement of the gold, the Duchess spoke to the five labourers as though she resented lowering herself to ask this question.

'Feminine hygiene products, perhaps?' suggested the Corporal.

Many angry stares shot the Corporal's way, both from miner and Company alike.

'Sorry,' the Corporal mumbled.

Irene spoke up. 'We need a bolt of cloth to repair damage to our uniforms, and a sewing kit to do so.'

'We also need a timekeeping device so we know when to expect your return,' Zachary interjected.

'We need proper weighing equipment too, for the ore,' Flora added.

The Duchess scowled. 'Very well, the Company would see that you are adequately provisioned for your labours. For now, you may as well have these scales, and I suppose I could part with this clock.' The Duchess gestured towards a clock on the bureau inside the lift and the set of scales. The Corporal unloaded them with reluctance.

'We want eggs, and butter,' Percy ventured.

'Don't push your luck,' growled the Duchess. 'Mine well and we shall see for next week. Do the Company proud and you might even get bacon!'

With that, the lift door was slammed shut, and it began its ascent to the lightless firmament above.

Aisling groaned and doubled over. She clutched the back of her head in anguish.

'Why? Why did I do that? I gave away my golden egg, just to bring the weight up a bit,' Aisling mourned.

'I think you saved our skins,' remarked Irene.

'The attention you gave it wasn't healthy,' said Flora. She wiped a final tear and took a deep breath as she calmed down from the terror of the Duchess.

'Something's been bothering me about all that. From what I heard of Edwald and Bard's conversation, they mentioned objects that would bring longing to those that see them. Was there something about the nugget that was unnatural? I mean, that made an unnatural longing?' Percy thought aloud.

'Other than the fact that it was a huge lump of solid gold?' Zachary scoffed.

'Yes, I mean, I wondered if it had some kind of special power over people,' Percy faltered. 'It was like Aisling was under a spell. Then the Duchess found it straight away and couldn't keep her hands off it.'

Aisling groaned again in sorrow. 'I couldn't help taking it. I don't know why I did,' she said.

'Then you told the Duchess that you mined it, and now she wants more,' Irene reprimanded, in a flat, accusatory tone.

'Well, that was a development!' Henry gave a dry comment as he emerged from the shadows.

'Tell me Irene, when the Duchess asked what you needed, why did you ask for cloth of all things?' Henry asked.

'I don't know, I had to think fast. I was panicking!' Irene replied.

'You could have asked for bricks, mortar, timber, anything to repair the chapel. New mining equipment, bedding, a mine cart… I suppose we've got a clock and a pair of scales at least,' Henry's voice bristled with discontent. 'Percy had the right idea asking for eggs and butter.'

'But we do need a clock and scales!' Flora protested.

'We're doing just fine without!' Henry grumbled.

'I can think of lots of uses for cloth. There's so many things you can do with it that would be quality of life improvements. It will be useful,' Irene gave a petulant response.

Henry shook his head in disappointment.

'Now we've got to mine the Company more gold when I've never seen more than a crumb of it. There are stacks of useless iron pyrites. They are going to be disappointed, and you can guess what that means for us. I don't know what we're going to do.' Henry shrugged his arms with a weary flop.

'It appears you have a dilemma, but have you considered all of the puzzle pieces?' a voice asked from behind the miners.

The miners turned to see Bard, who sat on a nearby boulder and gave a thoughtful strum of his lute.

'You're fae. A fully fledged boggart no less, Bard, or Wakeman; whatever your name is,' Henry accused, and wielded his staff.

'Oh, accusations! Oh, mercy!' Bard gave fretful strumming on his lute and looked wounded.

'Give over,' growled Henry.

'Fine,' Bard said, with a scowl. 'I am a trusted advisor and purveyor of knowledge, this is the task of the town crier and court minstrel; hear ye!' Bard parped on his horn and rattled a tambourine.

The miners stared.

'Quite the fraught relationship between these men of ambition, wouldn't you agree?' Bard pondered in conspiratorial tones and strummed his lute. 'It is one born in betrayal and mistrust. However, it is not an even relationship. Edwald feels threatened by all of Gifrey's might, but should Edwald's need to lean on Gifrey's industry be undermined, then the bucket shall be kicked and Gifrey left dangling. The capstone shall from the house's foundation be plucked, and down it should tumble…'

'We get it,' said Zachary.

'Why not approach master Edwald with your problem, and offer a solution to this most uneasy peace? Although come penitent, for you took something of his that he did not give freely. I bid you all a fond adieu, know me as your trusted friend, ever with sage wisdom and advice.' Bard sprung to his feet, and with a tootle of his whistle, he pranced out of sight behind the boulder.

There was a susurrus of chuckling in the background hubbub from the cavern's fae.

'What can we even do? We know you can never trust the fae because it's going to be trick, but he also has a point.' Percy sounded depressed.

'What is he talking about? We can never go back to Edwald, we would get blasted with lightning!' Irene cried.

'How could we even approach him to apologise?' Zachary whined.

'With caution,' Henry gave an acidic reply.

'We could have just asked Bard!' Percy moaned in dismay as he realised.

Flora peered behind the boulder. 'He's gone,' she observed with mystification.

The miners approached Edwald's mansion by sneaking to it the same way they approached before. 

'Now what?' whispered Percy.

'Who'll volunteer to knock?' whispered Flora.

'Shall we call for him? Ring the doorbell?' wondered Zachary.

'You're the theatrical one; pretend to be someone brave,' replied Henry.

Zachary cleared his throat, stood up, and took a deep breath. Only a squeak came out. He ducked back down again and hid his face in shame.

'That was pathetic,' remarked Aisling.

'We could throw pebbles?' Percy suggested.

'Too antagonistic,' disagreed Henry.

Together, the miners crept up and with great hesitance, Henry reached around the porch and tapped on the door with his staff.

A window opened behind them.

'Oh look, it's the thieves,' commented Edwald. He waited for the miners to finish their yelp of surprise as they scrambled to their feet.

'Such brazen theft from an old man, and a sickly one at that.' Edwald gave a sardonic pout on the part of his face that remained free of metal.

'I suppose you have come to return the stolen item and beg forgiveness?' Edwald asked.

Up close, the miners could see that Edwald had a new wound on his arm. A bandage was wrapped around it that was smudged with red.

What mesmerised the miners, however, was the eerie glow from the green eye that seemed to give a subtle pulse, as if it had a life of its own. His human eye looked tired and hollow.

'Actually, we come to you doubly humbled. The item was confiscated by our employer, who has coerced us into providing a regular supply of such. We came to ask forgiveness, and offer the talents of our service in exchange for… more,' Zachary announced with as brave a swell of the chest as he could muster, even as his voice stumbled.

'Oho! More? Quite some nerve! You steal from me then have the gall to come back and ask for more?' Edwald spluttered in disbelief. 'What talents of yours might these be?'

'I'm good with horticulture and can provide fresh produce,' Flora spoke up, trying to mimic Zachary's bravado. 'Percy was a chimney sweep, Irene was a seamstress, Aisling was a scullery maid…'

'Miners. We're miners. We mine the iron ore. We can deliver you some,' growled Aisling.

'Hmm, I suppose I ever have the need of it. How much can you provide?' replied Edwald.

'We were tasked with producing twenty-six pounds per week. However, it appears we both have a mutual rivalry with Gifrey. His puppets contest our best ore seam. Can you help?' asked Henry.

'Oh, you know about my dealings with the big man? Well, I'll have you know that we are not simple adversaries. Our relationship is fraught, yes, but it has gone on a great many years without you or your company's interference. Yes, I know who you work for. Sordid business, that.

'Anyway, old Gif and I have a fragile peace. I can't be seen to give you anything that may jeopardise that. I'm afraid I have little confidence in pilfering vagabonds who show up empty-handed to their mark's home, then have the gall to ask for more!' Edwald asked them in his sneering tone.

'Sordid business? What do you know about the Company?' Percy asked, but Henry urged him to be quiet.

'We're miners, not fighters. I've seen the army of walking statues and how well they reduce a seam to rubble. We have no wish to have that force turned against us. It would be better to face the Company's wrath than to be bludgeoned to a pulp by their tools,' Henry said in a firm voice. If you're not willing to help then we have no agreement, and you can continue to deal with Gifrey and his machine men by yourself.'

'Quite the negotiator, aren't you?' Edwald gave a sneer. 'I'm afraid I can't give you anything to use against old greedy-guts directly. I can, however, tell you the location of all the seams in the area. I never mined them myself, but I have my information sources. If you aren't willing to face the golems then you can work around them. It will, however, involve you going out of your way, with a fair bit of travel. Stay awhile, I shall produce you a map.'

With that, Edwald shut the window and disappeared into his house.

Edwald returned a good while later with a basket of goods.

'Perhaps we got off on the wrong foot.' Edwald gave an insincere grin that was quite unnerving to all who beheld it.

He looked even frailer than before and his skin tone was anaemic.

'Here's something for you; a little motivation for the task ahead. I too have my supply needs, after all,' Edwald told the miners.

'For you, young lady, I have a gift,' Edwald announced. He passed the first item to Aisling, whose face lit up in surprise and astonishment.

'This is an ornamental clock which counts the seconds, minutes, hours, days, months, and even years. Its furniture is white quartz and gilt leaf. The face is obsidian,' explained Edwald.

The sight of the clock brought murmurs of admiration from the group.

'For you, young sir, I have something I hope you'll enjoy. A costume of the wizard Prospero, and a script of his lines.' Edwald handed a robe and leather-bound booklet to Zachary.

'The garment material is crushed velvet in Tyrian Purple, trimmed with ermine. The booklet is full-grain leather with gold trim,' described Edwald.

Zachary received his gifts with a religious kind of awe.

'How could you tell? Now I can be like the lead actor, the star of a Shakespeare play; The Tempest no less. It's like I always dreamed. Thank you sir, I can't tell you what this means to me,' Zachary gabbled.

'For you, young lady, I have a most precious gift. A rather bonny decoration that I think would suit you.' Edwald passed a jewellery box to Flora.

'This is a tiara made of twenty-four carat gold. Leaves of jade are arranged around its circumference. The droplets at the front, evocative of plant shoots, are emerald. Fit for a horticultural queen!' announced Edwald, to Flora's astonishment.

'I've never owned a piece of jewellery in my life, but many a time I admired the collections of my house master's mistresses. I don't think I'm worthy to wear this!' Flora exclaimed.

Flora took the tiara from the box, and slid it over her brow with great care. Straight away, she seemed to rise up with pride, and a blissful light filled her eyes.

'Now I do feel like a gardener queen, and shall tend my plants with honour,' Flora stated, with a regal smile.

'For you, young sir, I have just the thing to suit a perceptive eye and enquiring mind. This is a powerful looking-glass made from chromium-alloy steel, with adjustable flawless crystal lenses. With it, one could see every detail on the moon!' Edwald proclaimed.

Percy received his gift from Edwald with trembling reverence. Straight away he uncapped the ends and looked about at the caverns around him. After a while, he managed to stammer his thanks.

'For you, madam, I have a keepsake that I hope you'll cherish,' Edwald announced, and handed the last gift to Irene.

'It's a solid gold locket that may be worn as a pendant. The interior has a portrait of your late parents on each side with the family names engraved together on the back,' described Edwald.

Irene's hand shot to her mouth. 'How?' Her voice was barely audible.

The thrill of the miners turned to stunned quiet.

'The eye, dearest; the eye. Through it, I see what people want and am inspired to create things of beauty, even from using the earth's basest materials,' replied Edwald.

'You, however, are hard to read,' a grimacing Edwald said, and turned to Henry. 'You keep yourself covered with this appalling, crudely made carapace for yourself that somehow seems to block my… intuition.'

The unsettling green glow of Edwald's false eye focused on Henry, who stared back with his helmet's glaring eye slits. 

'I'm not even sure if you would appreciate it if I made you a new suit of armour. There's no pleasing some. Instead, you can just have this.' With a sniffy disdain, Edwald handed a cardboard canister to Henry. 'It's a map of all the caves.'

Henry seized the canister and his gloved hands fumbled with the lid. With great care, he slid the papers out of the tube. They folded out to display a map detailed with minute precision.

'Incredible! It's vast… even more so than I thought. Just as I suspected… the flow of magic is a continuous circle; but it reaches for miles! Where are we, here? Every place I've ever been could fit between the hours of seven and eight on a clock face. I've barely seen any of it, even after all this time…' Henry's voice was taken away with awe.

'My deal for you is this: bring me twenty-six pounds of charged iron ore each and I shall give you half a pound of gold. Each. Per week. I can see that these items have made quite an impression on you. Work hard and there's more where that came from. Now go, run along. I'm rather tired. I need to rest,' Edwald said, in a faltering voice. He closed the window, and staggered off to the interior of his mansion.