Chapter Twenty - Tour of the Veil #2
“You still think it was one of your brothers?”
“They are the most likely candidates,” he said, his tone emotionless, almost matter of fact.
“But surely-” she started to say, but he cut her off.
“They have never been very good at sharing,” he said darkly, “the kingdom will not split seven ways when my father passes. There will be an heir and then there will be a war. Whoever wins will gobble up the rest of us. Better they remove the competition now and increase their chances later.”
Maybe they all go bad in the end.
That’s what Emrys had said to her that night at Lavinia’s.
She thought of Osric, nervous and worried about his wife.
Of Aurelian who had chosen the cheerful Isolde as his wife, going against his father to do so.
She struggled to think that either of them would send assassins after their younger brother.
But what did she really know of either of them.
Of any of them. Was this how he had lived his whole life?
Just waiting for his brothers to move against him? To kill him?
She thought about her own family, her brothers.
They had been close growing up together; at times they only had each other for company and she was grateful for it.
She thought of these past months in Aurelmere without Evelyne.
How many times had she wished her sister was hereto confide in?
She ached to think of any of them, but she missed her sister the most. And Dorian never had that.
He had been alone. With all of this on his shoulders.
She reached out to touch his arm, but he moved away from her. There was no accompanying wince or flinch, nor did he jump the way he had before. Instead he strode towards the door calling out, “come on, there’s something else I want to show you.”
They travelled back down the winding staircase of the tower.
Rather than stepping back out to the street Dorian had opened the door at the base of the tower, revealing another staircase that led further down.
She followed him, descending past the green Wytchfyre lamps into the darkness below.
Her head was starting to get dizzy from the constant turns, she reached out to hold on to the thick black rope that ran along the wall.
Ahead, she could hear the clink of tools on rock, the shouts of people, laughter.
They passed through a stone archway and stepped onto an observation deck, not too dissimilar to the one above ground.
Rosamund gasped.
Glowing amethysts illuminated the underground city in front of her.
Descending further and further into the glittering darkness below.
Humans and goblins alike worked to pry the precious minerals from the rock.
Tunnels branched off in different directions.
Houses, taverns and shops had been carved into the rock face, bridges made of stone, wood and rope connecting them.
It was the perfect mirror to the city above, right down to the observation tower.
“Welcome to the Underveil,” he said as he gestured out to the view.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispered as she leaned over the edge of the deck.
He moved beside her, taking up the same pose he had earlier when they had looked out at the city above.
“It’s dangerous too,” he explained, “we do what we can to strengthen the tunnels with the gemstones, to make the air clear, but it’s still difficult work.
The minerals that are mined here and in the Umbral are one of Valdyr’s biggest exports.
Without them, Cedric has no fuel for his forges and Gawain has no weapons for his soldiers.
Aurelian has no tools for his farmers, Luceran has no equipment for his experiments, and Osric has nothing to trade with Ravenor or Vesper.
It is the people here and in the Umbral that fuel this city.
And if any of my brothers knew that I would be dead.
It’s why this deception is so important.
I need them to think I would starve my people to get them what they need.
We mine as much as is needed, my brothers would bleed this place dry. And the people.”
“What about your father?” she asked tentatively and quickly corrected herself, “the King.”
Dorian was silent for a long time, a frown darkening his face.
“His majesty made his opinion clear long ago,” was all he said.
She knew what it was like, fighting for the attention of a beloved father. Even though she shared a good relationship with her siblings, they had still fought for his time. With Dorian’s brothers and their contentious relations, she could only imagine that was a million times worse.
He’s been so alone. All this time.
After a moment she realised how tightly he was gripping his forearms where they were folded across his chest. She thought about the wound on his arm, and turned to face him, “well, I believe that to be his loss,” she said firmly and gestured out to the city, “what you’ve done here, all of this.
Any father would and should be proud of that. ”
She saw his hands relax as he dropped his arms to his side. Absentmindedly, she reached up to start fidgeting with the necklace around her neck, “my father would be proud of it.”
“I met him once.”
She glanced up at him to see his expression had softened. Thinking and speaking about her father often resulted in the pin pricks of tears, but this time she felt different. There were no tears, just an eagerness to learn more about the man she thought she knew. The men she thought she knew.
“More than once, actually. But I have one memory that,” he trailed off and looked back out to the underground city.
She moved closer to him, “please, go on.”
He glanced at her briefly, she thought he might step away again, as was his habit, but this time he stayed.
“He would visit The Veil to speak to my mother, to,” he hesitated, “to teach her,” Rosamund smiled encouragingly and nodded for him to continue, “he would stop to speak with me if I was there. Just about this and that, nothing exciting. But there was one time I had returned home from court. I must have only been,” he frowned, “eight or nine. Bastian had done something, I can’t remember what, but I was soaked through as I ran into the house.
He had just been about to leave when he saw me,” he smiled, “I was so angry. I think he thought I was cold, but I’ve always been cold.
I was shaking with rage at what Bastian had done, and” the crooked smile grew, “with no hesitation, with no fear, he grabbed me and hugged me.”
Rosamund was not surprised. Her father had always been the tactile sort; it was their mother that had remained aloof.
Her father never hesitated to show affection to any of them.
And so, it did not surprise her at all to find out he had not hesitated to show affection to a poor lonely boy who had been bullied by his brother. Her own smile grew as she pictured it.
“My powers,” he said quietly, “manifested early. Very early. If it had not been for the arrival of your father, there is a very good chance my mother might have died when I was born. He saved her life. And years later, knowing that to do so was dangerous, he did not falter to comfort me,” he glanced to her and cleared her throat, “it’s stupid, I know. But that’s how I remember him.”
“It’s not stupid at all,” she said softly, and this time when she reached out to touch his arm, he let her, “thank you, for telling me.”
She did not know how long they stood there, staring out at the underground city.
Long enough that the day shift started to clock out and the lights began to dim.
They joined the workers as they left through one of the other arched exits.
The auburn-haired man she had seen him with that first day in the veil jogged up to them.
“Dorian!” he called out in a rich booming voice, “a few of us were going to head up to Larkhill for a drink or two if you want to- oh begging your pardon m’lady.”
The man quickly removed his helmet and bowed to her before Rosamund could wave her hands to stop him. When he stood up, he gave her a wide beaming smile, “You must be Lady Rosamund.”
“Rosamund is fine,” she said quickly and shook his outstretched hand.
“Or Rosie sometimes I hear?” he said with a grin, giving her hand a firm shake.
Her eyes widened with realisation, “Anders?”
“The very same m’lady,” he said releasing her hand, “I hear you had a run in with my Hugo, and our little kleptomaniac.”
Rosamund laughed, “they were both delightful.”
“They certainly are,” he said cheerfully, “you’re welcome to join us too if you like?”
Rosamund looked round at Dorian hopefully, he looked unsure, “perhaps later,” before she could look disappointed, “there are still a few places I would like to show the lady before we leave the district.”
Anders nodded and started to move off with the rest of the miners, “well if you change your mind, you know where we’ll be. Lovely to meet you m’lady!”
“And you,” she called back cheerfully as she watched him and the group turn down a different tunnel.
She turned back to Dorian as they made their ascent, “Larkhill? But that’s Aurelian’s district.”
“Anders likes the taverns there, he says the entertainment is better,” said Dorian with an eye roll, but a fond smile.
Rosamund frowned, “but how? I thought…” she trailed off as he turned to look at her.
He seemed confused at first and then broke out into a sly smile, “you thought no one could leave the Veil?” she nodded sheepishly, “you’re right, not through the gates anyway.
But these tunnels stretch out all through Aurelmere, and for those that know them well, there are secret paths that lead above ground.
It’s taken some of the men years to learn those paths, or you could just ask a goblin. ”
“You mean all this time Gnash could have led me out of here?” she said jokingly.
His expression changed at that, he looked almost uncomfortable as he mumbled, “well maybe not Gnash.”