They took Baba Madea to one side and spoke at length, leaving Baba Yelka to wait patiently for their verdict which she was struggling to control. It would be much easier and less painful just to cast a spell on them, and if her sister had not been there that is exactly what she would have done. Just when her patience was running out, the guards set off, heading for one of the many tunnels, and Baba Madea waved Yelka to join her as she followed them into the darkness. They passed through a network of tunnels and caves, the pathway meandering for miles and leading to chamber after chamber, each area filled with clusters of rock formations tinged with yellow, green and orange, casting eerie shadows and cobweb-type, sagging veils hanging from the roofs, even making the hardened witch a little nervous.
The labyrinth seemed unending but finally they reached a dead end, but two of the guards rolled back one of the boulders to reveal another tunnel. They passed through and the guards rolled back the boulder before moving on. It was a lot smaller than the other tunnels, just big enough to squeeze through in single file. All of a sudden they entered a huge cavern and were greeted by the loud shouts from the remainder of her army, all gathered inside waiting for their arrival. It was a much more comfortable atmosphere with several ventilation shafts and an array of flickering lamps casting the whole area in a sombre light. The army was made up of an assortment of fairies, elves, goblins, leprechauns and Dwarfs.
Baba Madea raised her arm and the cavern subsided into total silence as her army waited to hear what she had to say. ‘This is my sister Baba Yelka, whom I told you of. She is willing to do what I did for you to keep you safe, and use her magic powers to fend off any persecutors. In return she would expect your loyalty and respect that you gave me over the years, and I’m sure you will get along fine once you spend time together.’ She turned to her sister before stepping back.
Baba Yelka stepped forward and stayed silent for a few moments, scanning the army. She became excited by the variety of the bodies before her. It was better than she could have hoped for: they would fit perfectly into her plan to make all of the Kingdoms feel her wrath. Finally she began to speak. ‘My sister told me you all have a score to settle with the leaders of Colgilor who, exiled, go to this place. Well, I, too, seek revenge on a band of three and those who helped them on their quest as they travelled through our land.’
One of the army shouted from the back of the cavern. ‘Who is this band of warriors that could possibly be a danger to you with your powers? They must be a frightening force to deal with.’
Baba Yelka shook her head. Her face screwed up with pain just at the mention of the band. ‘No, they are not what you would imagine, just a young elf, a leprechaun and a young boy not of this land, but he had a magic hammer that made him invincible even to my powers.’
Silence once again descended on the cavern, all of them mulling over the thought of them going up against such a force. Suddenly three leprechauns pushed their way to the front, and one of them looked up. ‘Tell me, this quest: was it to retrieve the Golden Crown of the leprechauns from the evil Trolls?’
Baba Yelka’s eyes lit up. ‘How do you know of this?’
The leprechaun dropped his head in shame. ‘My name is Darby, and Louis is my younger brother. We are the sons of the King of the leprechauns but my father chose him to go on the quest, and if he was successful he would become King one day. But as the eldest it was my right to succeed my father, so when his magic powers were taken away, he had to venture out on the quest using only his own strength. I and my two friends here cast a spell on him, wrapped him in a magic carpet, placed him in a chest, and sent him over the rainbow away from Colgilor. But somehow he broke free and returned with the elf and the boy. After they retrieved the crown and returned to our people he told my father and he banished us from our kingdom and we ended up here.
‘Wonderful,’ said Baba Yelka, rubbing her hands with glee. ‘You are perfect to entrap your little brother and when he is on our hands we can both enjoy his pain.’
One of the Dwarfs stepped forward. ‘This magic hammer is the hammer of the God Thor, forged by our Dwarf ancestors and returned to us for safe keeping. The boy you speak of, his name is Shaun. He saved the life of the King’s son and for the first time in centuries it left our home to help the band achieve their goal.’
‘This gets better and better!’ cackled Yelka. ‘And now the hammer is back with your King?’
‘Yes, that’s true, but if you hope to get your hands on it, that, I’m afraid, is impossible. The Dwarfs’ kingdom is impregnable: they have the greatest warriors in Colgilor and even if you managed to take it, the hammer has only one master and it can only be used for good, not evil: only the King can sanction its use.’
‘Well, my dear, that’s where you come into the picture. What would it take for him to allow the hammer to leave his possession?’
‘Nothing that we would do or say: he lent it to the boy because he had saved the only thing more precious than the hammer: his son.’
Again she rubbed her hands. ‘Well, then, it is up to us to capture this son and then we can do a swap.’
The Dwarf shook his head and his face creased into a wry smile. ‘As I tried to explain, that would be impossible, it would take… Well, I don’t know what it would take… I doubt if our whole army could even get into the forge, let alone capture him and get out alive.’
‘Just leave the details to me. I’ll conjure up a plan, a foolproof one at that. Now, is there anyone else in the army that has encountered this little band?’
One of the fairies and an elf stepped forward. ‘Yes,’ said the fairy, ‘the boy with the hammer broke into our castle: he virtually demolished it, killing dozens of our warriors and freeing all the prisoners we had in our dungeons, a feat that had been attempted by many an army through the ages and they all failed.’
‘And what about you?’ she asked the elf.
‘Yes, a similar story. I was part of an underground troop of Low Elves. We had been there for generations in our impregnable den. We had a magic maze which no one could pass through; many had tried and failed, but it constantly changed, the solid walls opening, moving and disappearing, making it impossible to find a way through. We had captured a host of High Elves: they worked in our kitchens. But the boy and his little band somehow found their way through before releasing the prisoners and escaping, destroying the maze on their way out.’
‘So,’ Baba Yelka said, stroking her chin as she pondered on her thoughts, trying to work out the best way to approach her next move without frightening them off. ‘You all have reason to seek revenge on our little band and their allies, and you will all have the chance to enjoy that experience. But we need to tread carefully one step at a time. and one hostage at a time, so as not to send alarm bells ringing around Colgilor. My plan is to return to my den with a small group of your army and capture the band of three plus other important members of the Kingdoms that helped them to create so much devastation in all our lives. We will then return here with our prisoners and decide how we will use them to gain our revenge.’ She paused a moment before raising her arm. ‘So are you willing to work with me and for me to take the place of my sister?’
There was no response at first, just the quiet mumbling of their voices as they talked amongst themselves: all of a sudden those who had spoken earlier followed Darby to the front. He had a quiet word with them before turning to face Yelka. ‘Yes, we will gladly go with you and help with the first stage of your plan, and I think I speak for the whole army when I say we are all behind you and look forward to working with you.’ He turned to the army. ‘Are we all agreed?’
There were a few cheers at first, gradually turning into a full-scale chant reverberating around the cavern. ‘Baba Yelka, Baba Yelka!’ they screamed as they waved their arms in the air. She turned to her sister: both their faces cracked into that strange, spine-chilling smile that only a witch could appreciate, and for the first time since they were young girls they wrapped their arms ar
ound each other, cackling out loud.
So the sisters said their goodbyes, promising to keep in touch, and there was even a sign of a tear in Baba Yelka’s eye as she watched her sister disappear through the mirror. Over the following days she set up her private area, creating a magic circle and setting up her mirror to use as a portal in and out of this underground home. Baba Yelka was not only a witch, but also a powerful sorcerer, and in one of the adjoining chambers she conjured up a replica of her own house, complete with crooked shelves littered with books, papers and misshapen jugs and pots containing the ingredients for her magic potions, and small, dirty oil lamps hung from the ceiling, giving off a dim, eerie light. In one corner an old, wooden table with a few odd chairs; in another a stone fireplace with a roaring fire with a huge, metal cauldron suspended over it; the room even had a rickety, old rocking chair with a long broom with a hazel twig switch propped up against it.
In the chamber close by she set a lock-up area to hold her prisoners when she brought them back. It was partitioned off with huge, iron bars and on the walls hung heavy, metal shackles, the whole area protected by witchcraft – a spell she had cast. But before she returned to her own home she was compelled to investigate the chamber of the dead her sister had spoken of, and warned her not to venture any further than the chamber. A tunnel leading off was guarded by an enormous creature with the body of a bear, two huge heads of a lion with large tusks dripping with venom, their evil, green eyes penetrating the very soul, paralysing any intruder with fear and rooting them to the spot. Madea had spoken of the dark world: guards sometimes taking prisoners through, never to be seen again. She thought there must be some sort of torture chamber there, as sometimes horrendous screams and cries of pain could be heard echoing through the tunnel into the chamber.
But Baba Yelka thrived on danger. She was not stupid; she knew if she was to enter the tunnel she needed to be prepared, so that night she entered her magic circle with her grimoire, one of her jugs and her magic wand, placing them on the shelf alongside her mirror. After searching through the pages she cried out with glee. Lifting up her wand and waving it over the jug, she began reading from the book. Her eyes glazed over the words’ soft and barely audible, strange, ancient rhyme that seemed to swirl around the circle and enter the jug. Her arms dropped down, seemingly drained by the experience, and it was several minutes before she came out of the trance-like state and carried the jug out of the room and back to her living chamber. She carried it over to the table and poured the contents over two large chunks of meat that were in her cauldron. ‘There, we will leave that to soak overnight,’ she chuckled and a huge, smug grin spread across her face.
‘Just one more thing before bed: a present for my little pet with two heads. A bright, bonny collar for each. We wouldn’t want it to get lost now, would we?’ she chucked before returning to the magic circle. Again she consulted her grimoire before repeating a text from the pages, waving her wand as she did so: all of a sudden two golden collars appeared on the shelf, both pulsating and emitting bright, flashing lights; as she pointed her finger with the gold ring on towards them, the lights arched across to the ring and disappeared inside. ‘Now I’ll sleep tight tonight: I have an exciting day ahead of me,’ she said as she picked up the two collars and left the room.
But she didn’t sleep tight; in fact, she hardly slept at all. Her thoughts were going wild and if she was honest she would have said that, although she was excited by the danger, there was an element of fear, apart from the boy Shaun and his band she had never been defeated even against some of the greatest warriors of Colgilor; but this was so different. She rose early, quickly ate her breakfast before slipping two collars into a bag and chunks of meat in a basket, then quietly creeping out of her room, making sure she didn’t disturb any of her army. She thought she had a much better chance of success on her own: the animal would probably attack any group of strangers without warning.
She struggled to find her way back to the main tunnel and the section of chamber her sister had described, but suddenly she heard voices coming from one of the interconnected tunnels; as she was dressed all in back, she managed to conceal herself in the shadows. She watched as two figures carrying a wooden board with a body on made their way along the tunnel, chattering away to each other. Keeping well back and close to the shadows of the side wall, she followed, carefully watching her feet: any sound would surely alert them and mean her plan was dashed.
Finally they turned off into one of the chambers, and Baba Yelka slowly peered inside. She had to cover her mouth to stop her gasping out loud: she could never have imagined such a sight. The chamber was huge with rows and rows of timber racking around the perimeter walls, most of them five or six tiers high. She watched as the two figures slid the board and the body onto one of the racks before turning and heading back over to the tunnel. She again slipped into the shadows until they passed by and disappeared into the gloom; she waited until the sound of their footsteps faded before entering the chamber. As she walked slowly around she half-expected them to jump down from the racks: it was truly an eerie place with a strange stench of death filling the air. Her thoughts drifted to her sister: she had raised some of them back to life and they had wreaked havoc. What would a whole army of zombies be able to achieve? Complete domination: a sorcerer’s dream. Something worth thinking about… Surely she could come up with a few ideas: maybe she would look into this art of necromancy: a wicked, sinister smirk crossed her face. Suddenly her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of an unearthly roar reverberating around the chamber, which made her jump. She scanned the chamber but could see no signs of where the sound was coming from. Cautiously she crept forward, one eye searching for the tunnel her sister had spoken of, and the other eye checking each corpse as she passed, half-expecting one of them to stir.
Finally, at the far corner, a dark tunnel with a metal locked gate set back from the racks just seemed to appear from the gloom. She pondered for a moment, just staring through the bars of the gate. She shuddered as the eerie atmosphere and the deathly silence were overpowering her senses. Maybe her sister was right to warn her not to go any further, and part of her wanted to turn back but her thirst for power was driving her on. She quickly shook herself out of this self-doubt; she had come this far, so before she could change her mind she pointed her wand at the lock and it snapped open and the gate swung to one side.
She took a deep breath before slowly stepping forward. Despite the odd flickering light from the lamps hanging on the walls, it was still very dark. She could hardly see the ground beneath her, but as she moved on the greatest problem was the stench: a foul combination of death and decay, and an overpowering odour which was like nothing she had ever experienced. And there was a strange, muffled sound filtering through the tunnel, getting stronger the further she went, sounding like painful moaning and pitiful sobbing and weeping. But suddenly as she approached a blind bend the nerve-shattering roar washed over her like a tidal wave, turning her legs to jelly and paralysing her movement. She could move neither forward nor back: she just froze, her eyes locked onto the bend. This must be the monster her sister had warned her of.
She managed to open the basket containing the meat just as the two lion heads appeared followed by its huge, bear-like body. It stood for a moment sniffing the air, its green, evil eyes locked onto its prey, and as it opened its enormous jaws to send out another soul-shattering roar, slimy venom dripped from its large tusks and it moved stealthily forward.
She tried again to move her feet but failed as it prowled towards her. She pointed her wand towards the casket, mumbled a strange rhyme and the meat lifted up and flew over to the monster, dropping on the floor in front of its feet. Again it roared out loud and sniffed the air before bending down and grabbing the meat one for each head. As it devoured its treat, Baba Yelka felt the circulation return to her legs and she took out the two collars from the bag, laying them on the floor. She watched the monster finish eating and slowly it stagg
ered about before slumping down on the floor, its heads wobbling like two jellies. ‘How do you like the feeling, my little pet? Not nice, is it?’ she cackled.
She pointed her wand towards one of the collars and recited a rhyme. The collar opened up, before flying over to the motionless monster, slipping around its neck and closing back up. She repeated the operation and the second collar locked around its other neck. She waited till the effects of the treated meat had worn off and the monster struggled back up onto its feet. It looked totally confused, shaking its heads and staring over at her; slowly it recovered and let out another spine-chilling roar before prowling towards her, its tusks again dripping with venom. But as she pointed her finger with the gold ring and screamed out a rhyme, the collars lit up and began pulsating, sending out flashes of light which stopped the monster in its tracks.
She cautiously ambled over towards it, and took a deep breath before extending her hands to stroke its heads; amazingly, it responded by squatting down on the ground and making a low, vibrant sound. It wasn’t exactly a purr but certainly not a roar. She stepped back, pointed her ring finger and ordered it to stand. Immediately it obeyed, shuffling to its feet, both heads totally focused on her as though waiting for an instruction.
‘Go back!’ she shouted and it turned and wandered back along the tunnel with her following close behind. They followed the winding path of the tunnel with the moans and groans getting louder, and the foul stench so strong she struggled to stop herself retching. But she gasped out loud when they finally entered a large chamber which was divided up into small cells separated by metal railings, each with its own door. On one side the cells had prisoners with skeletal bodies shackled to the walls, their heads drooped and their cries hardly audible as they sat on filthy sack bedding, their hair unkempt, their clothes in tatters: all seemed near to death. On the other side was an even more harrowing sight: each cell contained some kind of torture implement, mind-boggling contraptions that made even the hard-faced witch flinch and shudder with disgust. Some of the cells were empty but several had prisoners locked in, and their whimpering groans and screams reverberated around the chamber: truly an evil, grotesque place. She shook her head as a shiver ran down her spine. She would have to be careful not to cross the Dark Wizard: she certainly wouldn’t want to end up in one of those cells, and even doubted whether she would want the boy Shaun and his band to experience that fate. She turned and scurried back to the tunnel and gave one last glance back before disappearing inside with her faithful pet, the monster following her like her cat back home.
Return to Colgilor Page 2