The Labyris Knight

by Adam Derbyshire

  “Consider this a down-payment on your sword.” The gypsy beamed. “It is not a weapon, not even close to being a sword but it is armour and you have mentioned on the trail that you needed some.” Octavian paused taking in Kerian’s pale face and wide staring eyes.

  “What’s the matter with you? I thought you would be impressed; you look like you have seen a ghost.” Octavian thrust the package into Kerian’s hand as he took back his horse and donkey. “Don’t thank me all at once, okay?” Kerian nodded his head and shook the dusty armour, holding it up in the air as the dust of ages settled about him in white luminous flecks. It was the sorriest looking armour he had ever seen. Some of the tunic was patched chainmail, one arm and some of the back consisted of larger metal links, there was a piece of leather breastplate over the heart and a row of blackened reptilian scales running around the tunic’s skirt.

  “Where did you get this from?” he asked, tearing his eyes from the ugly tunic and back to Octavian.

  “Well go ahead, try it on.” Octavian gestured enthusiastically, ignoring the question in his usual diplomatic way. Kerian slipped it over his head and found the armour hung off him like a sack. The length of the tunic came down to his knees and flapped around his waist. You could almost fit two Kerians inside it. Octavian stared hard, tilting his head to one side and ‘tutting’ to himself.

  “It really needs something.” The gypsy muttered to himself. He flipped open a saddlebag and delved inside, coming out with a thin leather strap, similar to the other fastenings used to secure all the supplies to Dorian the donkey. “Tie this around your waist and that will help pull it all in.” Kerian did as he was asked, clumsily threading the belt around himself whilst holding onto Toledo’s reins. Then he pulled the leather belt tight and cinched in the armour.

  “So how do I look?” He asked, turning so Octavian could see the armour in all its patched-up glory.

  “Oh it looks absolutely fine.” His guide replied, barely holding in a smile. “I understand shabby chic is all the rage these days.”

  “So where did you find it?” Kerian probed, shrugging himself into the armour and stretching his arms out to make sure his movement was not impeded. “What’s up there?”

  “It’s a crypt.” Octavian replied. “There are three sarcophagi in a small room. The lid had come loose on one, probably when the side collapsed. I found this armour inside.” Kerian’s face fell as he realised what his companion’s confession suggested.

  “You didn’t take this armour from a corpse?” he asked, suddenly realising he had shaken the remains of the previous occupant all over himself. “Don’t you have any respect for the dead?”

  “Well he didn’t seem to be needing it anymore.” The gypsy shot back. “Why can’t you be grateful for once and stop moaning.” The long drawn out moan echoing up the corridor froze the two men in mid-argument.

  “I think we need to get out of here as quickly as possible.” Octavian whispered with a sudden urgency in his voice. “Take the armour or don’t take it, it means very little to me either way.” He turned, holding the flickering torch up high towards the origin of the ghostly moan and hesitated, suddenly unclear if the group should continue the way they were going or back off and try the other way.

  “Sounds can become distorted in places like this.” Kerian whispered back. “We may as well head forward as backwards. Whatever that is, it could be anywhere in here.”

  “On we go then.” The gypsy replied stoically. “Following the right wall.”

  “Let’s hope it is.” Kerian muttered to himself. “For all our sakes.”

  The flickering torch spluttered and smoked, bringing the pictograms on the wall into vivid colour then plunging them back into the shadows. The two men moved forwards into the unknown, their sense of dread rising at each step, senses on edge, eyes and ears alert for any signs of movement or further unsettling sounds. Two broken doorways on the right wall allowed glimpses into crypts long undisturbed, stone sarcophagi adorned with dried flowers and keepsakes or tapestries proudly displaying faded coats of arms to large spiders that showed appreciation with complex silken webs.

  The left side of the corridor fell away from them, leaving the travellers feeling highly exposed and revealing a large courtyard that their flickering torch could not reveal the true extent of. The right wall ended just ahead, before also turning towards the courtyard, leaving the two no choice other than to move in this direction. The crumbling wall had numerous doorways along its length, stretching off into the shadows, entrances into yet further crypts and tombs.

  “This place is a necropolis. A city for the dead.” Kerian whispered. “Where in the name of Adden have you taken us Octavian?”

  “Well if it’s the lost city of Tahl Avan I’m asking for my money back.” The gypsy paused, sniffing the air again. “All the bodies we have seen so far have just been old bones. No gold at all.” He shook his head, holding the torch high; trying to cast its flickering light as far as it could reach, only to see the burning brand splutter at the sudden movement.

  “We might need to consider fetching the other torch out.” The gypsy announced, going back to his horse and retrieving the extinguished one. Kerian swallowed hard. Were they nearly down to their last torch already? A shudder ran through him.

  “We are going to need to check every crypt.” Octavian continued, still holding the unlit torch. “I apologise if it upsets your feelings regarding the dead but I have no intention of being left in the dark.” Kerian stepped back, nudging Toledo, as Octavian headed for the nearest tomb and thrust his torch inside, taking a quick glimpse before shaking his head and heading to the next one.

  “Nothing in here but corpses.” The gypsy smiled, heading back over to the left side of the courtyard. Kerian wanted to yell at him to keep to the right wall but found the thought of speaking loudly in this eerie place intimidated him into silence.

  Toledo lowered his head and shoved Kerian from behind, impatient to move forwards. The force of the push spun Kerian towards the wall. He swung his shield up to avoid it striking the stony surface and caught a glimpse of something dark and terrifying in its reflecting underside. A shadowy monster was purposefully stalking towards the same wide pillars Octavian had been heading for, its pelt shimmering in the light.

  “Octavian…” Kerian yelled, spinning back towards the pillars. “Look out!” Octavian turned towards Kerian, torch held high, a confused expression on his face.

  “Look out for what?” his guide asked. “There is absolutely nothing her… What is that?” Kerian moved forwards as fast as he could, towing the three horses with him, cursing his lack of a weapon and speed, as Octavian, unencumbered by the horses and oblivious to the danger of the hulking creature glimpsed in Kerian’s shield, moved ahead, his shadow flitting from pillar to pillar as he moved to investigate his discovery.

  Pulling the mounts along as fast as he could, Kerian led the trio of stubborn animals down the passageway to where the pillars finally stopped, the area before them opening out as the wall terminated with a ninety-degree turn to the left. A much wider courtyard now lay in front of them and what stood at its centre defied explanation.

  “Is that a ship?” Octavian asked. Kerian blinked, not believing his eyes. It did appear to be a ship. However, the vessel was not important right now. He was more concerned about the monster he had glimpsed in his shield. Why had it not attacked Octavian when it had the chance and more importantly, where was it now?

  “Octavian wait…” Kerian warned but his guide had no intention of listening and stepped out away from the shelter offered by the pillars, leaving himself completely in the open as he headed for the ship.

  The ancient vessel was approximately twenty-five metres from prow to stern and about five metres wide. It was lifted up on a bed of stones, the keel clear of the floor, its ends tapering to points. Octavian moved closer, oblivious to Kerian’s continuing concerns and reached out to touch the hull, brushing away t
he dust to find the woodwork had been painted yellow and white. He started to walk towards the prow, eager to examine the ornate figurehead there, when the torch, spluttered, smoked and then extinguished in his hand, plunging them into darkness once more.

  “It’s okay. Don’t panic.” Octavian joked from somewhere ahead. “Here’s one I prepared earlier.” There was a sound of flint striking, a dance of sparks and then a curse.

  “Damn what’s wrong with this thing?” Kerian bit his lip suddenly feeling very scared, isolated and highly aware of the sounds of the animals shifting nervously about him. There was a creature out there in the darkness, really close by. A single step followed by a long drawn out dragging noise came from the left. Then it repeated: step, drag.

  “Oh for the love of Helena.” The gypsy cursed again. “Light damn you!” A loud moan rose from far ahead, beyond the ship, clearly from a place they had yet to discover. A closer moan answered it from the left.

  Kerian could not see a thing! The darkness was so complete. It was as if he were entombed in a block of solid black marble. He widened his eyes as far as he could, desperately trying to see something, anything that would explain the noises about him. Other than funny coloured blobs floating across his eye he could see nothing. An anxious shuffling headed right towards him, causing the mounts to shy and pull away but Kerian refused to let them go as they were the only protection he had right now and he was not going to leave himself exposed like his guide had just done. A warm breath on his cheek made Kerian jump and almost scream. Something was right in front of him, inches from his face.

  “Hold this will you?” Octavian asked, thrusting something unseen into Kerian’s trembling hand. “That’s better. Now let there be light!” There was a spark and the whoosh of the torch finally igniting and catching.

  “Now where were we…” The gypsy winked as he turned from Kerian and lifted the torch high, before setting off across the sand covered cobbles to check out the other corridors leading from the area. Kerian blinked rapidly, like a man waking from a dream and moved to follow, realising that he was trembling all over. What was it with this place that made him feel so on edge? It was like there was a supernatural chill about the necropolis and it was unnerving him. He had never been afraid of the dark before. Why should this place suddenly instil such dread in him now?

  He shook his shoulders and paused a moment to take stock of his surroundings. There was no sign of the huge monster he had glimpsed earlier, no tracks on the soft sand floor, other than their own. Could he have been imagining it? Octavian appeared unaffected by the chilling miasma of the crypts and he had not seen anything that had caused him concern, yet Kerian could not shake the feeling there was something else here, something evil hiding in the darkness.

  Kerian rubbed his eyes, maybe he was just over tired? Struggling to cross the Vaarseeti must have left him more drained than he had realised. He tugged on the reins and led the mounts away from the marooned craft with a bone-weary sigh, trailing Octavian’s footsteps as the gypsy continued exploring the left wall around the larger courtyard, despite Kerian’s earlier advice to stay on the right. Sometimes it felt as if Octavian was simply doing things to wind Kerian up. He gritted his teeth and reluctantly followed.

  The gypsy suddenly paused in his exploring and gestured for Kerian to catch up. He was standing in the entrance to another passageway which led off into the darkness. Toledo’s tail lashed from side to side, as if swatting unseen insects and the stallion started to nudge Kerian forward with clear impatience, encouraging him to catch up.

  “This passageway leads down further underground. Shall we try it?” Octavian asked.

  “Think about the torch.” Kerian reminded him, stopping again only to have another impatient nudge from his feisty stallion. “We need light to see and that torch won’t last forever. Why don’t we go back to the vessel and see if there is anything there that we can use?”

  “Aww come on.” Octavian smiled. “We know the way back to the ship. Let’s just go a little further and see what we can find. The craft isn’t going anywhere. It hasn’t gone anywhere for years. I’ll put money on it that it will be right where we left it.”

  “Be careful betting.” Kerian warned. “That’s what got you into this situation in the first place.” Octavian mocked a salute and grinned, before heading down the slope into the darkness, leaving Kerian standing by himself.

  “Are you coming or what?” the gypsy’s voice echoed back. Kerian shook his head, then took a deep breath and led the animal train down the passageway. Just grit your teeth, he reminded himself. You need this man. You need his skills. You need your head examining!

  The corridor continued for about forty feet before opening up into a much larger circular area. The soft clinking of chains echoed through the darkness, indicating that some mechanism hung from the ceiling but it was too dark to see exactly what it did and in the centre of the floor there was what appeared to be a large well, with a stone cap secured on the top of it.

  The sand beneath Kerian’s feet crunched as he walked over the floor. The texture of the surface was different in here, somehow harder and more irregular as if pitted and exposed by extreme use. His foot came down on something hard and when Kerian looked, to his surprise he discovered he had stood on a shapeless blob of metal. He picked it up and tried to make out what the material was but Octavian was already around the far side of the well with the only source of illumination in the room and a troublesome look on his face.

  “Wait up!” Kerian called, pocketing the piece of metal with the intention of examining it later. Octavian swung the torch about, taking in the hieroglyphics on the walls as he searched for faggots or braziers that he could use to replace the one remaining light source they had. He tried to ignore the fact that it was flickering alarmingly in his hand and continued his search, knowing in his heart there had to be other sources off illumination somewhere in the area.

  The gypsy peered up into the darkness, listening to the chains softly clinking and rattling directly above him, then looked back at the capstone over the well. There were several grooves in the sides of the stone, as if the cap could be hoisted away with the right equipment. He placed his hand on the surface then withdrew it sharply when he discovered it was hot to touch. This place was becoming stranger and stranger.

  Octavian checked Kerian was still leading the horses, then continued to walk around the well, noting the number of passageways leading from the area as he tried to create a map in his mind’s eye. That was the third passageway leading in here. If they were not careful, they could easily get lost in this place.

  Steps led up into the wall and Octavian took them three at a time to find himself standing behind what appeared to be a large desk or altar that tilted slightly over towards the central area. There were grooves set into the surface, roughly the size of a very tall human. Was this where the people of this place were embalmed? He didn’t feel it was worth telling Kerian of his discovery because the old man was radiating an aura of pure fear that was almost palpable. He checked the surrounding area closely, noticing a series of levers set in the back wall, probably mechanisms for the chains above, before concluding there was nothing of use within reach. He jumped back down the steps and allowed Kerian to catch up. Noticing again how pale the man had become.

  “I count three possible routes out of this area.” Octavian reported. “Probably too many to search with this last torch. I have been thinking maybe you were right and we should head back to the ship after all. I mean they craft these vessels out of wood so maybe we can find something to build a fire and rest for a short while.” Kerian’s face brightened at the prospect and he started turning to head back out, then realised the choices available to him.

  “Which one was it, Octavian?” he asked.

  “That one.” The gypsy indicated with authority.

  “How do you know for sure?” Kerian asked. “I’m all confused.”

  “I’m the guide.
” Octavian quipped. “It’s what you pay me for.” He led the way without hesitation, the torch flickering alarmingly in his hand. Kerian closed in anxiously, the mounts started to act nervously as the light in Octavian’s hand dimmed.

  “Don’t worry this is all under control.” Octavian commented, heading up the passageway only to come to a portcullis that had not been there when they had ventured down this way.

  “That’s odd.” The gypsy commented. “I could have sworn this was the way we came.”

  A low groan came from beyond the gate and something shuffled slowly towards them. Octavian turned back towards the larger area and suggested that Kerian keep up with him. Kerian struggled turning the animals around in the passageway and heard something banging against the portcullis. He turned, just as Toledo lunged forward, pushing him after Octavian and offering Kerian only a split-second glimpse of something dusty brown reaching a stained bandaged arm through the gateway, fingers outstretched, clawing at the air and the diminishing torchlight.

  “What was that?” Kerian asked breathlessly when he finally drew up alongside his guide. “Did you see that.”

  “Hang on.” Octavian warned. “Just be quiet. I’m trying to think. Now did we come in through there or… here!” Kerian stepped back kicking at the ground in impatience, only to find himself hitting several more fragments of cold metal on the ground. They seemed to be littered all over the floor and this room’s function seemed to defy explanation.

  “Follow me.” Octavian motioned, “it’s up here I’m sure this time.” Kerian frowned and stared at the torch spluttering in his hand.

  “It had better be.” Kerian muttered, pushing past and giving Octavian a fearsome glare. The gypsy moved aside as the horses and donkey squeezed by, only to be flicked in the face by Toledo’s agitated tail.

  “It was a simple mistake.” Octavian offered by way of an explanation. “Anyone could have made it.”

  Kerian reached the end of the passageway and found to his relief that he was back out in the wide courtyard again. He grabbed hold of Toledo’s saddle and pulled himself up onto his horse. The courtyard roof was several tens of feet above them so he sat up straight and dug his heels into the stallion’s side, spurring it into action and dragging the other animals behind.