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“No,” Sam almost shouted. “No way. You can count me out. There is no way in hell I am going down there.”
As soon as everyone had finished eating, they had headed out to the watch-tower, Yafen and his mother leading them. The watch-tower turned out to be just that; a large round tower containing only a set of stairs spiralling upwards, behind which they were guided. The elderly skelk knelt on the floor and proceeded to push her head through the stone flooring, causing Dal to turn away and retch loudly.
“It was bad enough watching Oak do that with wood,” he muttered, referring to a tree sprite who had a similar ability.
Tor handed a lit torch to Yafen’s mother, who, grasping it firmly in her bony hand, slowly pulled it through the stone. When she withdrew her arm, her hand was empty. She had thrown the burning torch down the steps, but they spiralled as they went downwards, only allowing her to see a little way. It had ceased providing light a long while before she stopped hearing it strike the stone steps as it fell.
A careful examination of the floor revealed that part of it was made from one large stone slab. All of the men, except for Nosmas, had their swords with them and, after much effort, they had managed to slide their blades under the slab and move it sufficiently for Modo to insert his fingers in the slight gap and peer down. Unable to see anything, he had quickly removed his hand and the slab had then been completely pushed away, revealing a set of uneven steps which descended into pitch darkness. It was Tor’s declaration that they should make as many torches as possible and head down the steps that had caused Sam’s outburst.
Brin wrapped his arm around her trembling body and drew her close to him. “It is alright,” he whispered softly in her ear. “I will not let anything happen to you. You will be perfectly safe.”
“No, you don’t understand,” she said, pulling away from him. “I freak out in enclosed spaces. I won’t be able to breathe down there.”
“We do not all need to go,” Tor said, remembering Sam’s reaction when Bellak had closed the lid on the coffin she had been sleeping in. He could not bring himself to ask her to go through that again. “You can remain here. Vitkin, Cirren and myself are the only ones who have to go, but I would appreciate Ellen and Nosmas joining us, if they are both up to it.”
After much debate, it was decided that only Brin and Vicky would remain behind with Sam. Tor almost banned Seth and Dal from descending the stairs, as they were showing far too much enthusiasm for his liking, but Patrick talked him round, reminding him how impetuous he had been as a young Prince.
“Vitkin,” Tor said, formally addressing his elder brother. “As the oldest, you have the right to demand leadership of our little group.” He had been in command of most of those present for a long time and only the slightest edge to his voice betrayed how unhappy he would be if he gave up his authority.
“Oh no little brother,” Vitkin replied. “Their loyalty is to you, not me. I am happy to follow your command. For now anyway.”
The skelk willingly provided food and water, as well as enough torches for all of the explorers, and before the sun was at its fullest, they were ready to go. Tor was about to start his descent when Patrick placed his arm in front of him.
“Do we have to go through this every time?” he asked in exasperation. “I am expendable, you are not. I go first.”
Predictably, Tor began to protest, but Patrick was already on the steps and walking down them before any words reached his ears. Though he walked quietly, the sound of his footsteps echoed eerily down the tunnel. “This is going to be fun,” he commented dryly before disappearing from view.
Ellen followed after him, holding her torch up high as she looked down at where she was placing her feet. “Be careful,” she advised those who were to follow her. “The steps feel slippery.”
Sam, Brin and Vicky watched anxiously as, one by one, each of their companions disappeared from sight. “What do we do now?” Vicky asked.
“Make our way back to the village I suppose,” came the reply.
As they continued their descent, the darkness formed tightly around them, their torches causing strange shadows on the walls. The eerie silence, broken only by their quiet footsteps, quickly became oppressive. “Is this ever going to end?” Dal complained, the excitement of exploring the darkness completely gone. “How long have we been down here?”
He received no reply. It was impossible to answer his questions. What felt like hours, may only have been a few minutes in the darkness. “And what is that awful smell?”
This time someone was able to answer his question. “The air,” Patrick said. “There is nothing to keep it moving this far down so it has gone stale.”
Dal gulped. “Does that mean it is bad?”
Patrick chuckled at the panic in the young man’s voice. “It is not good, but it will not kill us. At least we no longer have to put up with the smell of dog,” he added, raising his voice enough for it to carry to the back of the line.
“I heard that,” Nosmas’s deep voice called back.
Patrick had been looking behind him while talking and almost fell over when his foot struck level ground instead of the expected step. “We have reached the end of the steps,” he called out.
Appreciative comments were muttered. None of them were unfit, but continually stepping downwards was taking its toll on everyone’s leg muscles. “I vote we take a break when we reach Patrick,” Ellen called out. “We could all do with some water.”
“Good idea,” Tor confirmed, not that he really believed any of them were waiting for his permission. If Ellen said they needed to refresh themselves, they would all do so, regardless of anything Tor said.
“Does anyone have any idea where we are?” Seth enquired. Vitkin raised his torch and looked upwards.
“We appear to be in a tunnel. The roof seems damp so I would guess we are under a river or a stream. Does that help?”
“Not really,” Seth grumbled.
As they were no longer walking down twisting stairs, they decided to extinguish every other torch. They had no idea how long they would need them to last so it was prudent not to use them unnecessarily.
The path they were on, though obviously not natural, was rough and uneven, only allowing them to make slow progress. It sloped gently downwards and curved slightly to the right. They walked in silence; all of their energy was taken up by the concentration required to safely place one foot in front of the other. Ellen continued to dictate when to take breaks and for how long, though it was Dal tripping over his own feet that indicated it was time to get some sleep. Tor was not the only one frustrated at a prolonged delay, but Patrick’s suggestion that some of them continue onwards was not taken up. A watch rotation was decided on and all torches were extinguished. If something was going to attack them in the dark, the light would hinder rather than aid the defenders. Cirren, Ria, Dal and Seth were asleep almost as soon as their heads hit their backpacks, which they were using as pillows.
As expected, the ‘night’ passed uneventfully, though nobody felt refreshed when they headed off again. It was beginning to get cold in the tunnel, leaving everyone stiff and sore. They had not been walking long when the path began to incline steeply downwards. Already tired muscles burned as they used all their strength to edge slowly down without losing their footing. Patrick, who was still leading, came to an abrupt halt, causing Ellen to walk into him.
“What is it?” she asked, unable to see what had made him stop so suddenly.
“I am not sure,” he said uneasily. “It may be a pit of some kind, but it angles away instead of going straight down.”
“Can we get past it?”
“It is not wide enough to prevent us from jumping across it, but I am not sure if we are supposed to go down it or not. Get Tor down here,” he instructed.
Tor was soon standing beside them, examining the ‘pit’. “What are your thoughts?” he asked, holding his torch high above his head.
“It looks smooth enough to slide down,” Patrick said warily. “But we have no idea what is at the bottom.” He held his torch in front of him, lighting a small area of darkness the far side of the ‘pit’. “We also have no idea where the path will take us.”
“Ellen?”
“We may be down here for days if we continue walking at this rate, and I do not think the water will last that long.”
“Then we are going sliding,” Tor announced, removing his backpack.
“What do you think you are doing cousin?” Dal had crept up behind them and was looking down the ‘pit’. “You do not think you will be allowed to go first do you?”
“Volunteering?” Patrick asked sarcastically.
“You bet,” came the unexpected reply. “That looks like fun.”
Tor groaned. “Why did I allow children to come with me?”
“Be nice,” Dal replied, handing him his backpack. Before Tor could stop him, he had laid down on his back in the ‘pit’ and pushed off.
Instead of the expected screaming, sounds of excitement reached their ears. “This is fun,” Dal’s voice sounded from somewhere far below them. Seth had removed his backpack and was about to follow his friend down when Tor placed a warning hand on his shoulder.
“Wait till we know he is safe,” he told him sternly. Seth nodded. He began pacing up and down; the wait was agonizing.
“How much longer do we give him?” he asked for the seventh time, when a muffled sound was faintly heard echoing up from the pit. “Dal?” he screamed down, leaning as far down as he dared. “Are you alright?” Listening carefully, he could just make out the reply. Pulling himself upright, he addressed the assembled crowd. “He said we should send down his pack then join him. He also added that he has never had so much fun in his life.”
Nobody realised that they had been holding their breaths until they heard the loud exhalation. They all regarded Dal as family, though he was only really related to three of them, and concern for his safety was foremost in all their minds.
“Me next,” Seth said enthusiastically, throwing both his own and Dal’s packs down, watching them quickly disappear from sight. “Yippee,” he called out as he started his descent.
It lasted a lot longer than he had anticipated. The sensation of falling, and the rush of air past his face as he gained speed, made the trip more enjoyable than frightening. He was disappointed when he finally skidded to a stop in what appeared to be a large stone room. Dal immediately grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet and roughly embraced him. Seth returned the hug before the two young men, realising what they were doing, quickly jumped apart.
“That was fun,” Seth said, breaking the embarrassed silence. They were gratefully interrupted by the arrival of Nosmas.
“I thought it best not to leave you two alone,” he announced.
“Why?” Seth asked hurriedly. Nosmas just looked at him. “Oh yes. I forgot you used to be Samson. How much do you know?”
“Everything.”
“Oh.”
“There is nothing going on,” Dal said defensively.
Nosmas smiled at the young man. “You just keep telling yourself that,” he said, giving him a friendly pat on the shoulder before whistling up to the others, indicating that he had successfully arrived.
One by one, the rest took their turn sliding down, though not everyone appeared to enjoy it. “If I never have to do that again I will die a happy woman,” Ellen announced as she dragged herself up onto her feet.
They decided to grab a quick bite to eat then everyone was handed a burning torch and the investigation of the room began. It was quickly established that they were in a store room, long abandoned. There was no evidence of fresh food and all of the jars on the shelves, or in the large wooden cupboards, were covered in dust. Nobody dared to open any to see what they contained. The only exit was through a small wooden door, which, though stiff, was unlocked.
“Do you think we have made it to the keep?” Seth whispered to Ria.
“Yes,” she quietly replied. “Why are we whispering?”
“Good question. We should get moving,” Vitkin said gruffly.
Patrick was the first through the door and, looking left and right, he realised he was in a long corridor. Sunlight poured through large glass windows, eradicating the need for torches. Doors could be seen in both directions. “Which way?” he asked when Tor arrived at his side.
“I have no idea. I suggest we split up. Explore every room and meet back here. Nobody is to go anywhere on their own.”
Patrick turned to his left and proceeded towards the first door on the left of the corridor. Without waiting to see who was following him, he tried the handle. It turned and he walked in.
“I wish he would take some precautions,” Tor complained as he watched his old friend disregard his instructions.
“We both know that is never going to happen,” Ellen informed him before heading after Patrick. She entered what appeared to be a bedroom. The mouldy remains of a rug lay in front of part of a four poster bed. A family of mice had made a nest in the rotting mattress. There was no sign of Patrick, but noise coming from the direction of the only other door in the room indicated where he had gone. He soon returned, announcing that it probably used to be a dressing room, but was now empty. There was nothing worth investigating in the bedroom, so they returned to the corridor and headed towards the next door.
Tor headed to his right and, along with Cirren, opened the first door he came to. He suspected that this too used to be a bedroom, though there was nothing inside to confirm his theory.
Ria wandered over to one of the windows in the corridor, rubbed it with her sleeve and peered out. Through the grime that remained on the window pane, she could make out that the building completely surrounded an extremely overgrown garden. From the outside, it looked like the two groups would meet up half way round, but she could not be certain of this, so the plans were not changed.
One by one, each of the doors on both sides of the corridor were opened and the rooms investigated. None produced anything worth reporting on, so the two groups proceeded round the corners and lost sight of each other.
“Remember, we meet back here,” Tor called out as the last person on the left disappeared from view.
“How long has this place been deserted I wonder?” Ellen mused as she and Patrick entered yet another bedroom.
“More importantly, why was it left to fall to ruin? Remind me to ask the villagers when we return.”
“Speaking of which, have you given any thought as to how we are going to get back? I do not think we will be able to climb up that slide.”
Patrick regarded her thoughtfully. Trust her to have already cast her mind forward to the practicalities of the return journey. He was fairly confident that none of the others would even have realised that they had a problem yet; they would all be too busy concentrating on finding something to indicate that not only were they in the right place, but also what they were supposed to do next.
“We can always walk through the valley back to civilisation,” he assured her. “After all, the only reason we went to the watch-tower first was to save time.” Ellen groaned. The walk through the valley would be a lot easier than the mountainous route they had taken to the watch-tower, but she already had blisters on her feet and did not relish the thought of having to walk back the long way.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a shout from Seth. He and Dal had followed her along the left of the corridor and had been investigating the next door along. “We have found stairs,” Dal said excitedly when Ellen and Patrick joined them. Without waiting for permission, he started up them, immediately followed by Seth. The sound of their footsteps soon died as they came to a halt. “It looks like there used to be another floor up here,” Seth’s voice floated down to them, “but it seems to have been completely destroyed. I can see the remains of the outside walls, but not much else. Dal wants to investigate further. What do you think?”
“No,” Ellen and Patrick called out together. “If the walls are decaying, the floor may be as well. It is too dangerous to walk on it.”
“Too late,” Seth called down. The creak of the ceiling above told them all they needed to know. The impetuous young man had decided to go exploring anyway. Patrick was still swearing under his breath when a loud crash silenced him. He and Ellen spun round in time to see Dal fall through a hole in the ceiling and land hard on the floor with a loud cry. Patrick recommenced his swearing as he ran over to the inert body on the ground. Ellen beat him to it and examined Dal’s unconscious form. Seth came running down the stairs and Patrick had to tackle him to the ground to prevent him running into the young witch.
“Nothing seems to be broken,” she informed them as she raised Dal’s eyelids to examine his eyes. She then slapped his face and called his name loudly. When he started to respond, Patrick released the still struggling Seth, who ran to his friend’s side.
“You really are an idiot,” he said with relief when Dal gave him a lopsided grin.
“He is going to have a headache for a while, but I think there will be no permanent damage,” she assured him before addressing her patient. “Let that be a lesson to you. Always proceed with caution.” Dal nodded his head, then winced, making Patrick chuckle.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the building, the search was continuing in vain. “There is absolutely nothing here,” Vitkin complained, after exiting yet another bedroom. “How many rooms did this Dathos need?” The building they were in was known as Dathos’s Keep, after the man who had it built.
“I think I have found the kitchen,” Nosmas called out from nearby. Ria followed him through the door he had just opened and let out a loud whistle.
“I have never seen so many ovens in my life,” she exclaimed, stunned by the size of the room, one wall of which was completely lined with them. Along another side was a row of neatly stacked cooking pots, each one large enough to cook a whole sheep in.
“Never mind that, this door leads into the garden,” Nosmas told her. She relayed the message to the three Princes, then followed him into the fresh air. “There appears to be a small building partly hidden by those bushes,” he said, pointing to their left. By the time they had reached the doorway, Tor, Cirren and Vitkin had joined them. Nosmas tried the door, but it was locked.
“Cirren, go find the others,” Tor instructed, turning towards his youngest brother. “I think we have found the right place.”
Cirren soon returned, with Ellen, Patrick and Seth in tow. Dal was between the two men, an arm across each one's shoulders as they helped him to walk.
“What happened to him?” Tor enquired.
“He fell through the roof,” Patrick replied, his tone demonstrating exactly what he thought of Dal’s impetuousness.
Seth started to defend his friend, but Tor held up his hands. “I do not want to know. Just drop him on the ground over there and help us with this door.”
Try as they might, the men were unable to get the door open. They tried pulling. They tried pushing. They even tried hacking at it with their swords, but nothing seemed to have any effect. Ellen eventually grew bored with watching their antics and, sighing dramatically, pushed them all aside. She said a quick spell, blew gently on the door and it swung open. “Easy,” she said smugly as she looked inside.
The small building consisted of just one room, mostly taken up with a large table. Unlike the rest of the keep, this room appeared to have been perfectly preserved, with no sign of damage or ruin anywhere. The table, covered in candlesticks and other ornaments, showed no trace of dust.
“What is it?” Ria asked as she stepped across the threshold.
Nosmas was examining the table closely. “It appears to be some sort of altar.”
“Well the clue did say ‘burn me as an offering’,” Ellen reminded him. “Is there a better place to do it?” Without waiting for a reply, she carefully removed the lomas flower, which she had picked in Queen Tibia’s garden, from where she had secreted it in her clothing and placed it in a wooden bowl set on the table.
“Shall we?” Tor asked his brothers. Everyone else stepped back from the altar as Vitkin and Cirren approached. At a nod from Tor, Nosmas incanted a spell and flames appeared in the bowl, igniting the flower. Blue smoke rose into the air, creating a nauseating smell. Those closest began to gag.
Instead of drifting upwards as expected, the suffocating blue smoke created by the burning flower began to move downwards, seeping into a crack near the base of the altar. Suddenly the room was filled with a loud explosion, throwing everyone to the ground. As the smoke cleared, they pulled themselves to their feet, some of them coughing.
“Is everyone alright?” Tor called out.
“What was that?” Seth asked, when nobody had replied in the negative. “Did we have the wrong flower?” He threw an accusatory glance at Ellen, which she ignored.
Cirren, who was closest to the altar, was the first to notice that the crack through which the smoke had escaped was now larger, revealing a panel. Pushing carefully, he slid it sideways and glanced inside. “There are three parchments in here,” he called out, his hand automatically reaching out to take hold of one.
“Do not touch any of them,” a voice shouted at him from somewhere in the room, making him freeze where he stood, arm still outstretched.
“Sorry,” he said. “I was not thinking.” He slowly withdrew his arm and stepped away from the altar. Tor and Vitkin walked up to him, positioning themselves on either side, and knelt down.
“On the count of three, we take the one in the middle,” Tor instructed. “One. Two. Three.” As he spoke the last word, all three brothers reached forwards and simultaneously took hold of the parchment, withdrawing it from its hiding place. “Will someone please take this and read it out,” Tor requested.
Ria nimbly leapt forward, taking hold of the parchment before he could change his mind, and read out the words in a clear voice.
Congratulations, you completed your task
You found the flower, what more could I ask?
That clue was easy, now it gets hard
Go to Kavern and seek the Bard
Tell him a story he has never heard
But He, She and I are forbidden words
One more thing before I say goodbye
To complete the task, a friend must die