by James Wolf
‘It is foolish beyond words,’ Logan shook his head, as two Rhungars lined up five tankards each along the bar, and raced each other to down them all, whilst the rest of the alehouse cheered them on.
‘But try telling that to a Rhungar,’ Hirandar smiled, as the two Rhungars finished their five tankards, and howled as they smashed each other in a Rhungari handshake.
That night, the Moon-Lantern festival was held inside the Under City. It normally would have taken place on the plateau, but the stronghold was still on alert. All the lights inside the citadel chamber were put out, until only Moon-Lanterns lit the chamber with their eerie yellow glow. The company were honoured to join Lord Drogal and Captain Harnan, on the citadel battlements, from where Macen gaped at the enchanting view of the darkened Under City.
‘But how can they loose fireworks inside the cavern, Forgrun?’ Macen asked.
‘Be on shortened fuses,’ Forgrun grinned at Macen’s amazement. ‘Such miracle do be simply elemen’ry fer ye Rhungar engineers.’
Macen felt the tingle of anticipation in the air, as the usually loud and frantic Under City waited in a hushed quiet. Macen could see the Rhungar children all held Moon-Lanterns, and were brimming with barely contained excitement – some of the adult Rhungars were no different either.
‘It be long ago,’ Forgrun told the Hand of Fire, as they stood up on the battlements of the stronghold, ‘when a single Rhungar warrior be ye sole survivor from group o’ messengers sent from ye eastern outpost, ter ye capital stronghold, Kaladoon. His duty do be ter warn agains’ ye biggest Krun army do ever be assembled, heading ter attack ye High King’s stronghold. The messenger be bloodied an’ wounded, but did nay stop his relentless journey – as he do knew, if ye citadel were ter be saved his message had ter get through.’ Forgrun held up a clenched fist. ‘It do be a dark night – as black as ye pitch – an’ ye messenger be lost an’ all but finished. So ye messenger, as his last chance, do pray ter ye Ancestor-Gods fer help.’ Forgrun brought his hands together in prayer. ‘When he do open his eyes a huge full moon do reveal itself in ye night sky ter guide his steps. He could now be seein’ where ter walk, but he still do nay know ye way ter Kaladoon. By chance, that night do be ye High King’s birthday, and ye citadel walls be lined with party lanterns that only do give off ye weakest o’ dull glows.’ Forgrun gestured over the battlements, at the hundreds of Moon Lanterns in the city. ‘These faint yellow lights do allow ye messenger ter find his way home, and alert ye citadel ter ye impending threat o’ Krun invasion. Because of that brave messenger, ye defences be prepared in time fer ye onslaught.’
‘So, ev’ry year,’ Harnan said, ‘ye messenger’s courage be celebrated in ye festival fer Moon Lanterns, which do be lightin’ his way.’
With a whoosh the first rocket launched up into the mountain roof, and everyone looked up. Macen saw the rocket fly up, tracing a trail of sparks over the dark city, and explode into a burst of green stars.
Soft cries of, ‘Oooohhh!’ and ‘Aaaahhhh!’ whispered through the lamp-lit Under City, and Macen heard how the cheering emanated from where the Moon-Lanterns were concentrated.
Macen watched as rocket after rocket zoomed up towards the mountain roof, hissing as they blazed a trail through the air, until there was a great bang. Scintillating colours exploded in great blasts, which stayed for a few seconds on this giant canvas in the air, and faded into nothing. More starbursts of gold and silver, purple and blue, red and orange zoomed into the air. Macen looked at his friends, and saw how all the companions gazed overhead, enchanted.
With the fireworks still going on, and fire crackers being set off all over the city, one of the Citadel Guard came up to Harnan.
‘Lord Molboroth,’ the Citadel Guard bowed. ‘Ye Grey Rangers be returned. They do follow ye Krun horde as they be fleein’ east, ter entrance ter ye high passes.’ The guard snorted. ‘Here, ye Krun do stop ter regroup, an’ steady thyselves. Neveryeless, they do had their rest now, an’ be comin’ back toward stronghold. Rangers estimate, by morning ye Krun be returned ter our gates.’
Macen watched Harnan’s face become harsh.
‘See ye Citadel Guard be ready,’ Harnan said to the guard, ‘double ye number o’ sentries on outer wall. Have ye Fire Walkers be preparin’ their war machines. Ye Brothers o’ Gromm an’ Storm Hammers still be on standby?’
‘Aye, me Lord.’
‘Good,’ Harnan nodded. ‘I be informin’ Lord Drogal, but nay tell ye Clans till after festival. Let our people be enjoyin’ tonight, before they have ter be thinkin’ o’ siege again.’
‘Me Lord,’ the Citadel Guard bobbed his head respectfully, before he went away to follow the orders, whilst Harnan went to speak to Drogal.
Macen saw the smile from the fireworks drop from the Lord of the Citadel’s face, as Harnan told Drogal the bleak news. But the mass celebration went on, in blissful ignorance.
When Harnan had finished talking to the Citadel Lord, Logan said to the Rhungar captain, ‘My friend, I know there is much on your mind, but I will need the supplies we spoke of.’
‘Yhee be havin’ them,’ Harnan dipped his head.
‘Thank you,’ Logan nodded.
‘Are yhee sure yhee nay want suits o’ Rhungari armour?’ Harnan asked.
‘It is a kind offer, my friend,’ Logan touched Harnan on the shoulder. ‘But we must travel light through the snow of the high passes. And in the Lost Realms, speed is our greatest defence.’
The Rhungar Captain bowed, and strode away to speak to the Citadel Guards.
Logan turned to his companions of the Hand of Fire, ‘The path ahead is open. We must all rest well tonight. For in the morning we will chance our escape, and get back on our quest.’
Chapter 5 – Journey into the dark
The only noise Macen could hear in the sleeping Under City was the footsteps of the warriors, as the Hand of Fire paced down the empty streets to the stronghold. His backpack seemed heavy already, but he knew the companions needed to carry enough supplies and blankets to get them over the mountains and beyond. They were leaving the horses at Khan Zhen; Logan said the mounts would not survive the Blizzen Passes. Macen stared up at the mountain roof as he walked, and was still amazed at how dawn’s first light was reflected down mirrored shafts into the vast chamber.
Harnan met the companions outside the fortress and led them inside, accompanied by ten Rhungars of the Citadel Guard, armed with crossbows.
‘Where are we going?’ Drual murmured to Macen, as they followed Harnan.
‘Not sure,’ Macen whispered, as he glanced back at the crossbow-Rhungars following behind. Why did they need guards with them inside the stronghold, Macen wondered?
Harnan took the Hand of Fire down seldom used old passages, deep within the citadel. Onwards and downwards they went. Harnan led the party through stiff locked doors and rocky passages laced with deadly traps, which Harnan disarmed before the group could enter.
They came to a barred metal door, inlaid with the sturdiest of locking mechanisms. Macen could see the elaborate mesh of steel put metal bolts not just across the door, but also straight up and down – slotting the bolts into the stone doorframe all around. Macen found it quiet down here in the depths, ominously quiet. Harnan motioned for the Hand of Fire to stop, twenty yards from the door, as he gestured for his soldiers to go in front. The Citadel Guards crept forward into the tunnel, spreading wide, keeping their crossbows trailed on the locked door. Macen shivered when he saw how torchlight glinted off the metal door, and he thought how this sinister door could be the gateway to another world.
Behind the line of crossbow-Rhungars, Harnan turned to Hirandar and Logan, ‘Yhee be sure abou’ this?’
‘There is no other way,’ Logan kept his eyes fixed on the barred door.
‘A desperate measure for a desperate time,’ Hirandar said darkly. ‘Not lightly do we brave such a treacherous journey.’
‘Ye Light speed yhee then,’ Harnan bowed to all the companion
s. ‘Odrin, ye other Gods, an’ all ye Ancestors be watchin’ o’er yhee.’
Harnan ordered the door unlocked with a gesture of his hand. One of the guards struggled to turn a massive key in the giant keyhole at the centre of the door, and all the bars round the edge clicked open in sequence. The warriors all took a few steps back, as they reached for their weapons. Macen shuddered as a sense of dread filled him.
With a heave, the Rhungar guard hauled the door open and jumped aside, so the crossbow-Rhungars had a clear shot at anything that was lurking in the darkness beyond. Through the open door was the blackest darkness Macen had ever seen. The Rhungars waited stone still for a minute. No one spoke. Macen concentrated on listening, but the only thing he could hear was the sound of the Rhungars’ breathing.
When nothing came out from the darkness, the wary Citadel Guards advanced through the open doorway. Every step the Guards took was slow, silent and hesitant, as they edged out into the ancient caves. Some of the guards bore torches, and they used their lights to sweep the black spaces close to the door. The Rhungars clutched their weapons close and concentrated on straining their eyes and ears for any sign of movement. Macen knew why the Rhungars were so cautious. The Sodan sensed a lurking menace in the dark.
The Rhungar guards stopped a few yards beyond the door, forming an outward facing defensive circle, their crossbows covering the encroaching darkness. A wary glance flitted between Ragad and Jvarna, then on to Baek, Drual and Macen.
The companions each thanked Harnan before they passed through this last door. Each of the friends was quiet and subdued, and heedful of the evil presence in the darkness beyond.
‘The Light shine on your blade, Harnan,’ Logan said the honourary blessing of the Sodan.
‘An’ Gromm favour yhee, Grim Wanderer,’ Harnan bowed, ‘An’ Odrin watch o’er ye all,’ Harnan put a hand on Forgrun’s shoulder. ‘I be lookin’ forward ter meetin’ yhee again, so yhee be tellin’ me thy battle sagas.’
‘An’ do I, Lord,’ Forgrun dipped his head to Harnan. They clasped forearms, before Forgrun entered the darkness after the rest of his companions.
Macen stepped beyond the last door of the Rhungari citadel, and found it was intimidating, deep and black. Macen sniffed, and he felt the cold damp fill his nose. He heard water dripping into shallow pools, but he could see nothing but shadows and black all around him. The companions huddled close together, weapons ready. Some of them were trembling as they eyed the nebulous black. Was there something out there, watching them? Macen had heeded the wariness of the Citadel Guard, and he knew there must be something terrifying in these dark depths to frighten those stout warriors.
‘These caves are a natural formation,’ Hirandar murmured, and the other warriors jumped out of their skins. ‘They existed long before the Rhungars first excavated the mountains.’
Macen made out the silhouettes of looming rocks in the vast darkness, as the Citadel Guard retreated to the safety of the Rhungari passageway, keeping their crossbows trained on the shadows. The moment the last Rhungar was back inside the passage, the steel door was slammed shut, and locked with a multitude of clicks and shunts that resounded through the darkness. Macen looked at each of his companions, and he saw the fear in their eyes – all except Logan, whose eyes were strong or harsh, but never afraid.
Macen stared out into the foreboding darkness, and realised the company were on their own. All was deathly still. The darkness was all-consuming. Macen had an urge to run off as fast as he could, in search of fresh air and natural light. But Macen reminded himself he was a Sodan warrior. He mastered his own fear, the fear did not master him.
Forgrun and Ragad both clenched Rhungari lanterns in their free hands, whilst Macen, Logan and Jvarna held burning torches. Without their lights they were dead. The shadows from their flames flickered over jagged rocks. Both Baek’s quivering hands were on his bow, an arrow notched, and Drual grasped his personalised crossbow with two shaking arms, swinging it from shade to absolute blackness. Jvarna’s hand trembled, as she touched her forehead and then her chest – the gesture for the blessing of the Light.
Hirandar twirled her fingers to produce a sphere of white light, as bright as all the lanterns and torches put together. Macen brought his hand up to shield his eyes. He felt more at ease now Hirandar’s celestial light lit up the cave, and he could make out the ragged rocky roof, hundreds of feet above, and see the countless tunnels leading off in many directions.
‘That door cannot be opened from this side,’ Hirandar whispered, ‘and is it impossible to find your way down here from the outside… finding our way out, from the inside, is only slightly easier than that.’
‘It’s so dark out there,’ Jvarna stared into the black.
‘Not to worry,’ Baek murmured, ‘we know from experience Forgrun can see in the dark.’
‘Not be this type o’ dark,’ Forgrun scowled.
‘How many types of dark are there?’ Baek frowned.
‘Well there be darkness by starlight,’ Forgrun glared at Baek, ‘and there be ye darkest o’ lightless black – this be that!’
‘Quiet,’ Macen whispered to his bickering friends.
Hirandar started forward with purpose, straight for one of the passages, and Macen felt reassured that at least the Wizard knew where they were heading. The rest of the company followed her, careful to stay close. Baek went to the front, to keep his bow alongside the Wizard, and Logan dropped to the back, motioning for Drual and his crossbow to take up the rearguard aside him.
‘Eyes open,’ Logan’s voice echoed through the cave, even though he whispered. ‘Evil things hide in the lightless deep.’
‘Ye Nemeth,’ Forgrun muttered under his breath, ‘or worse…’
‘Anything you see that looks suspicious,’ Logan said. ‘Any sound out of the ordinary – even if you think it just your mind playing tricks – I want to know. Immediately.’
As if the Citadel Guards’ wariness had not been enough, Logan telling the company to be so vigilant put their senses on the keenest edge possible. Every step they took was measured, and every effort was made to keep their noise to a minimum.
For three gloomy hours they continued, without a word, over slippery rock and through pools of water. Macen thought the oppressive darkness would never end. Always, he felt there was something lingering just beyond the torchlight. Sometimes the cave was so immense and black that Macen could not see rock – apart from that of the floor – in any direction. That dark was so all-consuming that even Hirandar’s light could not penetrate it. At one point, the company trudged through icy water that came up to their waists, and then their shoulders, enveloping their bodies in freezing shadow. Macen shuddered as he waded through. None wanted to enter the black water, but the thought of turning back was even worse. Macen dreaded to think what was in these black pools, where he could not see his feet and legs, or whatever he was stepping on. All the companions struggled to keep their backpacks and their weapons from getting wet. Ragad had to lift Forgrun through the deepest parts so the blackness did not swallow the Rhungar whole.
‘Keep going,’ Hirandar whispered back, as she waded on through waist-deep darkness.
Everyone rushed after the Wizard’s disappearing white light. None wanted to stay in the black pool any longer than they had to. Macen heard a sound echo from the distance, something large dropping into water.
‘Light!’ Jvarna whispered as she leapt back into Drual.
The companions stopped dead. Weapons, torches and lanterns were raised back in the direction of the noise. An icy chill seeped into Macen’s heart. Nothing came. Nothing stirred in the dark. Macen had never in his entire life been more terrified then he was in that moment. He was sure a dark creature stalked their footsteps. The Light protect us, Macen thought, as he reached over his left shoulder, grasping for his swordhilt.
‘Calm down, my Lady,’ Drual said sarcastically.
‘Get your hands off me!’ Jvarna snarled, as she pushed him
away through the black water.
‘You jumped on me! I can’t help it if you’re drawn to me–’
‘Ssshhh!’ Logan growled. ‘Be silent!’
Macen strained to hear anything in the darkness. He looked out over the underground pool, but nothing disturbed the dark surface that lapped against his waist. He flashed out his sword from its scabbard. Macen felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise up. He shivered from the chill of his soaking shirt. Macen felt as if his tiny torchlight was on the brink of being swallowed by the darkness.
Logan drew his sword. The Sodan Master gestured for the warriors to press on through the black pool. Logan turned to guard the rear. Macen glanced ahead, past the torches of Ragad and Jvarna, and he saw Hirandar and Baek had almost reached the shore. Forgrun had dropped from Ragad’s back, and held his great axe up above his head ready to strike down, and Drual was behind Macen waiting for Logan. They all made for the ball of white light in the Wizard’s hand. Macen felt his heart beating so loud, that any predator in the underground lake would have been able to feel it through the water. He crept towards the shore, with all the stealth he could manage. The extra weight of his backpack and the waist deep water conspired to make him unsteady on his feet. The swirl of the water seemed louder than a drumbeat as he waded through that black pool. He glanced back and forth and around, sword ready. If there was a creature in the dark pool, Macen knew the warriors had entered its territory and the beast would have all the advantages in a fight.
Macen shivered and gasped as he climbed out of the freezing cold water. The terror of their predicament made him shudder, as he tried to shake the chill water from his sodden clothes. He heard water lapping and gurgling in the distance. All the companions swivelled. Fear surged up in Macen. No one dared move. By the glow of Hirandar’s light, Macen could see Logan still standing in the pool, facing away from the shore, with dark water still up to his knees. Macen shuddered when he realised the danger his Master was in.