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Authors: Gilbert L. Morris

BOOK: Empress of the Underworld
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“As I said, they want to kill the empress and all the nobility. They want to take over all the riches of the Underworld. They serve the Dark Lord. He promised them all sorts of things if they would come under his banner.”

Abbey said nothing for a while. At last she said, “That sounds like an old story. Ever since we came to Nuworld, Goél has sent us to people in trouble like your own.”

“Yes, we have heard much of that. We have heard the song about the Seven Sleepers.” He looked down at her and smiled. “It still seems passing strange to me that so much could rest upon such a beautiful young woman, so tender and gentle. Like a princess.”

Abbey flushed. His praise sounded sweet in her ears, but she said modestly, “I'm the least of the Sleepers.”

“Nevertheless, to be a Sleeper is an honor, isn't it?”

“Oh, yes, it is.” Abigail could not help thinking that only yesterday she had been complaining about being a Sleeper. But somehow this handsome young man, with his winning ways, had softened her.

Lothar was quiet for a time. But when they came in view of the house, he put a hand on her arm. “Stay a moment.”

When she faced him, he asked quietly, “Have you made your decision? Will you go back with me and help save my people from the Underlings?”

“Oh, Lothar. I don't know. It's so hard to choose.”

He did not urge her further. “Yes, it must be,” he said. “That shows you have character. Why, most young women, if they had the opportunity to go to the Underworld and have all the jewels, silks, and other beautiful things there—they wouldn't hesitate a moment.”

“Oh, I'd love to go, but I'm not sure it would be the right thing to do.”

“You must decide.” Lothar shrugged. “You must come voluntarily or not at all. But you must make your decision now. I must hurry back. Even now the Underlings may be in revolt and the empress's life in danger.”

Abbey's mind seemed to go into some sort of frenzy. More than anything else in the world, she wanted to go with Lothar. The very idea of the gold, jewels, and luxuries he had drawn for her made her want this. On the other hand, something kept nagging at her—a doubt that she could not set aside.

She said, “I just can't make up my mind, Lothar. I wish I could. If I had my own way, I'd go in a minute.”

Lothar shrugged again. “Well, perhaps it's not important that you go. Are there other young women in your party?”

“Yes, there's one. Her name is Sarah.”

“It might actually be better if she went instead of you.”

Abbey turned to look at him. “Why her instead of me?”

Lothar smiled. “She cannot be as beautiful as you.”

Again Abbey's face glowed, but she asked, “What does that have to do with it? Is it better for a homely girl to go instead of a pretty one?”

“Why, surely you've heard of the powers of our empress?”

“No, I told you—I've heard nothing about the Underworld.”

Lothar laughed. “Everyone knows about the power of the Empress of the Underworld to make women beautiful.”

Instantly Abigail's total attention was riveted on Lothar. “To make women beautiful, you say?”

“Why, yes. Of course, you are already beautiful. And this other girl, this Sarah, if she goes—I hate to tell you this, but after the empress touches her with the strange power she has—” he shook his head “—she'll be far more beautiful than you, I'm afraid.”

Abbey thought,
That's not fair!
She stared at Lothar and said, “How does she do this?”

“It's not for me to explain the powers of the Empress of the Underworld. But that would be true for any girl who goes with me. For this Sarah, if she will come.”

Abbey was like a person who had come to a fork in the road. On one hand lay the dangers, bad food, and lack of clothing that she had known with the Sleepers. On the other road lay the wonders that Lothar had described for her. She thought longingly of the luxury and the ease.

Then an image of Sarah popped into her mind, clothed in silks, satins, jewels, and more beautiful than herself! And a voice whispered,
Maybe it's the thing to do. Maybe somehow it's all working out that you will go before the others do.

As if he'd heard her thoughts, Lothar said, “You know, it's possible that you might go with me to look over our problem. You could get some decent clothes and some rest. We have hot springs there that make a lovely bath and all sorts of soaps—things that girls like. If you don't like it—” he shrugged “—I can always bring you back.”

“I'll do it,” Abbey said. Suddenly going with Lothar
seemed the very thing to do. “I'll leave a note for my friends, and then I'll be ready to go.”

“Very well. I'll just wait at the creek for you. Can you ride?”

“Yes. I'm an excellent rider. Why?”

“Because I came here on horseback, and I brought a beautiful mare—just for you, I see now, although I didn't know it at the time.”

“I'll hurry as quick as I can,” Abbey promised. She ran back to the little house.

In a dither, she found paper, wrote a note, and gave it to Zohar's wife. “Give this to Zohar or to Josh when they get back, will you?” She scarcely waited for the woman's nod before turning and running down the pathway.

When she arrived at the creek, she found Lothar waiting with two beautiful horses. Both were black as night.

One was smaller than the other, and Lothar said, “This is Star. She will be your horse. She's very gentle but fast as the wind. Quickly now!”

He helped her into the saddle, then swung on the back of the larger horse and turned to smile at her. “And now we will go to the magnificent Kingdom of the Underworld. Soon you will be dressed like a princess.”

4

Kingdom
of the Underworld

I
t was fortunate for Abbey that she'd had much experience in riding. Before coming to Nuworld, she'd never sat on a horse, not even a pony. However, her adventures with the Sleepers had required this means of transportation. She had fallen many times but through persistence had learned to be almost as good a rider as Sarah.

She sat now upon the black mare and followed Lothar down a narrow path, which twisted through the rain forest. The cries of strange birds came to her ears above the soft padding of the horses' hooves. The floor of the forest was soft, carpeted with what seemed to be hundreds of years of pine needles. They had been traveling hard since dawn, stopping only once at noon to rest the horses for an hour and eat a meal. Now Abbey was weary but was determined not to complain.

Just as the sun dropped behind a line of trees, Lothar pulled his large steed to a halt and looked around. “There's a stream right over there.” He pointed to his left, then glanced at her. “I expect you're tired. We'll stop there for the night.”

“I can go on further,” Abbey said stoutly.

“No, it'll be dark soon. We'll make a fire and cook a meal.”

Lothar led her to a slight rise. “This will stay reasonably dry, even if it rains.” He slipped off his horse, then held a hand out for her.

She took it, dismounted, and he smiled.

“You're a fine rider,” he said. “There aren't too many of those among my people.”

“I've had a lot of experience,” Abbey said.

“I'll gather some firewood, and you look through these supplies and see if you can find something good to cook.” He tied the horses, while Abbey prowled through the large saddlebags. By the time Lothar had a fire going, she could say, “We're going to have a fine supper. I'll show you what a good cook I am.”

“Good,” he said. “And I brought a small tent for you to sleep in. I'll make you a bed of pine boughs. It won't be as good as the apartments in the palace, but you'll have some privacy.”

As Abbey began to fry meat in a small pan, she watched him remove from a saddlebag a dark blue tent that seemed to be made of fine silk. He cut poles and stakes with a sharp knife, and she was delighted when he turned and waved at the small shelter.

“It's beautiful,” she said. “I wouldn't mind having a dress made out of that material.”

“Its color would go with your eyes.” Lothar smiled. He came over and sat down. “Is supper about ready?”

“Yes. I've done the best I could.” She put the meat and bread before him. He had brought along two delightful, collapsible silver cups. She opened them, admired them, and filled them with sparkling spring water. “No Dr Pepper tonight, I'm afraid.”

“Doctor who?” Lothar asked in surprise. “We don't have a doctor here.”

“Oh, that's just the name of a drink we used to have back where I lived.”

Abbey found the tender meat to be very good. Lothar approved of it too. Then she opened a package and said, “I don't know who made these, but they're delicious.”
They were small cakes, sweet and mouth-watering. “What's in them?”

“Honey, I think. I'm no cook. I'm mostly an eater.”

The two of them finished eating, then sat back and watched the fire as it crackled merrily.

“Tell me more about the Kingdom of the Underworld,” she said.

Apparently nothing could have pleased Lothar more. For an hour he talked about his home. “You would never know, by walking over the ground, what is underneath,” he said. “There are compartments filled with gold and precious metals. There are huge caverns where we store food of all kinds—mostly wild grain. We have our own mill by an underground river. You'll like the underground river. It goes to a rocky channel, and the stones are so bright they're like lamps lit up. They reflect on the water. I'll take you for a boat ride when we get there.”

“And you make all the things you need to live underground?”

“Oh, most everything.” Lothar shrugged. “It's like other kingdoms in some ways.”

“How's that, Lothar?”

“Well, we have different classes of people.” He went on to describe the structure of the Underworld. “At the top, of course, is the Royal Family, which is now the empress and myself. Then we have our nobles. You'll be meeting all of them. The young nobles will all fall in love with you and want to marry you.”

He laughed at her blush. “I didn't know girls knew how to blush. You'll be the belle of the ball. I can see you now, wearing a beautiful new red dress with diamonds and a crown on your head and boots made out of finely tanned moleskin and ruby rings on your fingers and an amethyst necklace …”

He went on and on, and Abbey enjoyed it hugely.

“I wish we were there,” she said excitedly. “I'm so anxious to meet the empress and all the nobles. But there are other people who do the work, aren't there?”

“Oh, yes. We have our mercantile class—that is, people who work for a living. They make things, buy things, sell things—I don't know most of them too well.” He hesitated, then said, “Of course, in a kingdom like ours it takes a lot of work. We're continually expanding—digging new tunnels, creating new storerooms and new underground villages.”

“Who does all that work?”

“Well, when an Underling is captured, we make him do that work. We make slaves of them, of course.”

Abbey's face fell. “I don't like to think of people being slaves.”

“It's their own fault,” Lothar said. “They'd kill us in a minute if they could. We have to keep them in chains, or they'd ruin the kingdom.” He looked over at her and said, “You're sleepy, I think. We have one more day's hard ride. Good night, Abigail. I'll see you in the morning.”

Abbey went into the little tent and was delighted to find that he had made a bed of soft pine boughs covered with smooth blankets. She rolled into them and soon went to sleep, dreaming of a palace with beautiful ladies and handsome men twirling around in a ballroom.

“Well, it's been a hard ride, but we're finally here.” Lothar motioned toward a steel gate set in a sheer wall of solid rock. It was a large gate—big enough to admit two wagons side by side. It had no windows and seemed to be fixed.

“It looks so big,” Abbey said in surprise. “How do you get through it? I don't see any hinges.”

Lothar laughed. “That's the idea of this gate. You can't get in. Only a few of us know the combination.”

Abbey looked at him with surprise. “I don't see anything to turn. Safes have knobs, don't they?”

“Not this one. It has a spell on it.”

“A spell? You mean, like magic?”

“Something like that.” Lothar smiled at her. “It'll open only for the words that are known to very few. Stand here now, and I'll show you.”

Abbey watched as Lothar advanced to within a few feet of the gate. He looked up and began to chant in a language she didn't understand. It gave her an eerie feeling, for his voice sounded odd—not like Lothar's voice at all. When he finished, he gave a cry and said, “Look! The gate opens.”

Inside was a passage made of solid rock. It sloped downward ever so gently, and the walls were lit by glowing stones. She moved her horse closer to one side and touched them. They glowed with a pale green light, and she muttered, “It's like indirect lighting.”

“What? Oh, yes, I suppose so. We don't have to carry torches in here,” he remarked. “It was the work of many generations to gather these stones and set them in place.”

“It's beautiful,” Abbey said.

The floor was stone, and the hooves of the horses rang on it. The road went on and on but never grew narrower. The echo of their voices rang in her ears.

“What's that ahead?” she asked, pointing.

“It's a guard post,” Lothar said. “See those armed men? It would take some stout fellows to get past them.”

He pulled up his horse as a man wearing a black cape and steel helmet came forward. He was very pale, and his eyes studied them carefully. “Welcome back, Prince Lothar,” he said in a deep voice. “We've all been waiting for you.”

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