‘I take it we're supposed to walk this way,’ said Baltar, pointing a finger in the direction of the stark grey hills. Rogan and the others broke out into a voluptuous, drowning laughter that burst over the whole landscape.
‘By my soul he’s quick witted,’ said Kira, stifling a yawn. Her sarcasm was lost amid the laughter.
‘Come on, let’s make some headway,’ said Rogan. ‘I’ve heard much of this Master Lydas and his mystic touch with gold. And I’m curious to see what truth lay behind the tall tales that have been told of him over the millennia.’
They set off in the direction of the distant hills, marching in search of the legendary master in a compelling game of hide and seek, and within an hour had entered a monstrous canyon that was dark and empty, hewn from the cold grey rocks. It was two hundred feet wide, three times as high and looked like nothing of their world had made it. Branches that looked like threatening fingers hung over the whole canyon. Rogan’s eyes widened. It had a feel to it that bothered him. It looks like the giant hands of Loden have scooped it out in an angry moment of madness, he thought.
‘Where are we?’ asked Vinn, peering about anxiously, ponderously.
‘Don’t know,’ said Rogan scanning the landscape. ‘I’m as lost as the rest of you. I was hoping to find footprints or signs to follow, but so far I haven’t seen anything that’s caught my eye.’
‘I haven’t seen anything either,’ said Kira scratching her head.
Grimly, Dopiaza chimed in with his wit. ‘Maybe there are no signs to follow. Maybe we’re meant to languish here and wallow. To starve, to die and be eaten by the crow. Maybe this is Loden’s way to keep us heroes low.’
Ofash stared mad eyed at the dwarf. ‘Shut up! I’ve warned you about rhyming.'
Rogan shook his head in despair. ‘It’s just his quirky way. It’s harmless.’
‘Harmless?’ said Kira. ‘It drives me to distraction and makes me want to poach his head in boiling oil.’
‘There’s a couple of heads I’d like to knock together,’ countered Rogan, glancing back at Ofash and the dwarf as they marched on through the darkly lit pass. The air was thick with the putrid stink of stagnating water and sweat.
Unexpectedly, the melodious sound of panpipes startled them and a voice greeted the heroes. ‘Welcome to Rygia and the rule of Master Lydas. Please sit and rest a while and partake of some food and wine.’
A bright light flashed and Rogan couldn’t believe his eyes or his luck as a large trestle-table materialised in front of them, seemingly from out of thin air, sumptuously covered in food and wine, enough for a small army. This is too good to be true, he thought. There was roast ox meat on the bone, smoked venison covered in fine black pepper with spices, large loaves of freshly baked honeybee-cornbread; jugs of the finest wine with a sweet heady bouquet and bowls of water with which to wash their hands afterwards. The smell was unbelievably mouth-watering. Rogan pinched himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming and the others stood wide-eyed with their mouths hanging open.
‘Where in Alder’s name did this food come from?’ asked Vinn blinking hard. His nostrils flared instantly, sniffing the wonderful aroma gently wafting his way.
‘Who cares where it came from? I’m starving. It seems like we haven’t eaten in days,’ said Baltar grabbing a huge ox leg from the table.
‘We haven’t eaten in days you silly male,’ said Kira, quickly grabbing a large portion of smoked venison and a half loaf of bread.
Rogan studied them all for a moment. It’s like watching a pack of wild starving wolves at a royal banquet, he thought. You’d think they’d never been fed. He picked up a loaf of honeybee cornbread feeling its texture. It was almost lighter than air, softer than a new-born baby’s skin and unbelievably fresh. He bit into it and it melted in his mouth. ‘This is superb,’ he said rolling his eyes in ecstasy.
The warriors sat down on the stools surrounding the table and hastily devoured the whole banquet, including every last drop of wine. Laughter, belches by the dozen and many other rude noises and disgusting smells came and went while the six ate, drank and made merry. It was nice they thought; to eat, drink and exchange tall tales after their long trek up the steep hillside and through the mountainous pass. Now there was the freshness of fields and the scent of flowers, so they finished their meal in pleasant silence.
As if from a far off world another unfamiliar voice jangled, echoing around them and it was so loud that it made their ears ring and heads swim. ‘A warm welcome to you all,’ the gravelly voice announced. Startled and half-drunk, they all glanced up to see a wizened old male with a round rosy face, long white beard and a trailing main of pure white hair beneath a crown made of Firestars. He was sitting on a gleaming throne of solid gold, his back bent, his shoulders hunched.
Blinking hard, thinking that the old male was a mirage and would disappear, Rogan shook his head. ‘By the man-gods, it’s Loden himself.’
‘No, no, not Loden,’ replied the old male. ‘Lydas, Master of Rygia. I hope you have all eaten your fill and are feeling a little more rested after your long journey up the pass.’ They all nodded, acknowledging that they were all feeling much better after wining and dining at their generous host’s expense. The spicy aroma of exotic food lingered wonderfully in the air and Lydas’ nostrils flared, sucking it into his lungs. ‘Good,’ he said.
The warriors, wide eyed, awaited his words anxiously. Lydas shot a glance at each of them in turn, steepling his hands in front of his face. ‘As you all know, you have been sent here by the man-gods as part of your initiation prior to setting out on your journey,’ he announced, ‘and although I have no idea what you have to achieve because the man-gods have made me ignorant of that fact, I will give you my hospitality while you are here. You may eat my food, drink my wine and may even sleep with my many wives. But, you must not talk to the man-horse Silenus the Wise under any circumstances. And of course, all the gold in my kingdom belongs to me and me alone. However, if you can answer a simple riddle, I will give each of you a purse of Golden Starpieces.’
Dopiaza smiled broadly. ‘What's the riddle? Does it have a name? Or must I guess the whole thing, be wrong and take the blame?’
Lydas smiled. 'The riddle is simply this. If not to be born is best for blue-bloods according to the man-gods – what is next best?’ Then he vanished quietly in a wisp of amber smoke.
Rogan blinked and laughed. ‘That’s one hell of a good trick. I must learn how to do that,’ he said hitching his quiver further over his shoulder. He clapped his hands. ‘What’s the answer Dopiaza? The riddle sounds simple enough to me.’
For a moment the dwarf was silent and thoughtful. Then his gaze wandered over to a shaded rock to his left. ‘Each riddle has its own strange text, as does a merry sonnet, a little time is what I need and I shall think upon it,’ he said rising from the table, shambling over to the rock. He lay down, falling fast asleep the instant his strange looking head rested on the ground. And he snored away blissfully, his belly full, his appetite sated.
‘What are we going to do if Dopiaza can’t think of the answer to the riddle?’ asked Baltar, not having a clue about such things.
‘When it comes to riddle or rhyme he can’t be bettered,’ said Rogan. ‘But, even if he can’t come up with the answer, we will, somehow.’
‘I think Lydas unwittingly gave us a clue,’ said Kira. ‘I have a feeling this Silenus the Wise knows what we need to know.’
‘Then I suggest we talk to him,’ said Rogan, ‘even though it’s against the rules.’
‘I’ll do it. Provided he’s at least half Vindaluvian, I’m in with a chance of getting the answer out of him,’ volunteered Kira, running her hands suggestively down her beautiful body. She was nervous about the task as Lydas had forbid it, but knew it would gain them the Golden Starpieces they needed for their long trip, if she could persuade the one known as Silenus to part with the answer to the riddle. Rogan, Ofash, Baltar and Vinn stood and left the table, all holdi
ng their full bellies. Unbuckling their sword belts they let them drop to the ground with a noisy clatter.
‘I’m stuffed to bursting,’ said Ofash.
Baltar yawned, feeling rather sleepy after devouring half a Rygel pig and endless jugs of wine. ‘Me too.’
Vinn gave a weak smile, saying nothing, and Rogan looked rather pale. They all lie down on the ground by the dwarf’s side, shaded from the strong red giant's sunlight and fell fast asleep. Kira however, was impatient; not wanting to waste a single moment. So she rose from the table and went in search of Silenus, armed with a strong wine. Then for two long hours she searched the surrounding rugged hillside, wandering from one dark cave to another, stumbling over the hard rutted ground. But there was no sign of the man-horse.
In the heavens, dark clouds were stacking up and red rain sheeted down, then thunder rolled in the west as her gaze wandered back over the sweep of the hillside. Now she decided to take shelter in the nearest cave. Tired, soaked from head to foot with her feet aching, she finally stumbled across Silenus, and a radiant colour washed the despair and disappointment from her face.
He was sitting in the cave by the side of a fountain, playing a flute. She stared long and hard at his narrow corpse grey face. His cheeks were sharp, his stark green eyes sunk deep into his skull, and a mop of curling brown hair hung down over large floppy ears. He had the hind legs of a horse and the ears and tail of a donkey, wearing nothing more than a leather loincloth around his waist. And the music he was playing was so soft and melodious that it was hypnotic. She stood in the shadows for some considerable time watching him, listening to the light and lilting rippling chords of dance. And it was only after the music had stopped that he became aware of her presence.
‘How can I help thee fair missy?’ he asked amiably.
‘I am Kira of Cardobia. And I wish to sit and talk a while,’ she said striding boldly toward him.
He chewed gingerly on his lower lip. ‘Fair missy, I'm not supposed to talk to anyone these next few hours,’ he replied, turning away shyly, ‘lest the man-gods be displeased with me.’
‘Why?’ she asked, already knowing what his reply would be.
He lowered his head for a moment of thought, folding his exceptionally hairy forearms across his chest. ‘The answer to that is a mystery to me and a riddle to you,’ he said choosing his words carefully. Dark circles ringed his eyes, reflecting a haunting inner fear of mortals. His whole body stiffened and he took a deep breath, snorting heavily.
‘But Silenus, I’ve heard that you are the wisest friend of Master Lydas. And if that’s true, your wisdom won’t let you down in the eyes of the man-gods or the master, even if you do speak to me,’ she said brushing back her wet, windswept hair.
He put the fruit down by his side, stood up, turned and took a drink from the fountain. And after two or three big gulps he raised his head staring at her suspiciously. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand. ‘What is it that you wish of me?’ he asked.
She shrugged. ‘Mere conversation. I'm bored with my companions.’
He turned awkwardly on hoofed feet towards the shadows of the cave entrance, pondering her remarks while she craftily uncorked and poured the powerful wine into the deep basin of the fountain. ‘Oh, how thirsty I am,’ she said concealing the container. She dipped her face into the tainted water, pretending to drink.
He spun around, heading back to the fountain feeling the same thirst. ‘I must drink also. My mouth is bone dry from playing the flute,’ he said, plunging his face into the water.
‘So drink,’ she said pulling her face clear. He drank thirstily, emptying the whole bowl and began talking about anything and everything, the mixture of wine and water addling his brain.
With the help of the alcohol she easily convinced him to speak freely about various subjects, simply because he was drunk. Idle chitchat went back and forth between them, until the moment when she thought she had gained his confidence and was convinced he would answer her questions truthfully. She moved her body closer to him. Fluttering her eyelashes she began her seduction of the strange looking beast. ‘Oh Silenus, you’re so interesting and wise, and although I know in my heart that you would help me with a problem I have, if you could, I fear not even you would be able to,’ she said, trying to appeal to the man-god side of his nature.
‘Why fair and beautiful missy, I would help thee escape from Narok itself, even though Berberrus, the dreaded three headed dog and guardian to the Netherworld was fast at my heels. What is thy problem?’ he asked slurring every word, his eyes wanting to close. He bowed briefly, and even though he looked as if he were about to fall over, there was an odd sense of vibrancy about him and in the air.
‘Oh, Silenus,’ she said again, ‘my five travelling companions believe me to be witless and worthless because I cannot do what they can, and I don’t know how to prove them wrong.’
‘What is it they can do and you cannot?’ he asked, clutching his aching head.
‘They can answer the riddle posed by Master Lydas earlier today, and I have no idea of what it meant. If only I knew the answer, then I would be as smart, and they would be able to shame me no longer. What shall I do?’ she asked, leaning towards him, revealing a little more cleavage.
‘Your friends say they can answer the riddle? That's a lie! That cannot be!’ he said with a snort, dumbfounded and frowning.
‘That’s what they say,’ she said fidgeting uneasily.
‘I don’t care what they say, they’re lying. No one but me knows the answer. And I’m not obliged to tell anyone until Lydas comes to me at sunrise tomorrow. I will inform him then and no one else.’
She shrugged. ‘But, why would my friends say they can answer it, if they cannot? What would be the point?’
‘True,’ he said still holding his head, unable to think clearly, his mind befuddled.
‘So, if my friends know the answer, surely there wouldn’t be any harm in telling me would there?’ she said, confusing him even more.
He gazed into her beautiful sparkling eyes, sniffing her rosewater perfume. ‘I don’t suppose so, if what you’re telling me is true,’ he cursed colourfully, taken aback. ‘I'm damned. I must have talked in my sleep and been overheard. Oh, an eternal curse upon me. If Lydas finds out he will not be best pleased and I will be a laughing stock for the rest of my immortal days.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to tell him. My loyalty is to you because you’re my friend,’ she said, fluttering her eyelashes again.
‘You’re my friend too,’ he replied looking slightly happier, ‘and because you’re going to keep my secret, I will make thee look gifted in the eyes of thy friends by telling thee the answer missy.’
Kira smiled deceitfully. ‘Oh thank you. What is it?’
He regarded her silently for a moment, casting a dark glance. ‘The answer is simply this: if not to be born is best for blue-bloods according to the man-gods, the next best thing is to die in childbirth.'
Her pretty face was a picture of disbelief. She looked mortified. ‘That’s the answer. Do the man-gods really think so little of our kind?’ she asked.
He nodded. ‘I’m afraid so. You're an annoyance and a liability at best and the man-gods are fickle. They see your kind as you see insects – very small and insignificant.’ He sat back down by the side of the fountain, closed his eyes and fell fast asleep, his drunkenness finally overcoming him. She stared at him long and hard. He’s quite hideous, she thought, and armed with the answer she left him snoring away in the cave and went to find the others.
*
Five hundred leagues to the northwest of the heroes camp, high on a treacherous mountain slope, all the fires of Narok were being unleashed and raining down from the heavens, inducing an overwhelming choking fear on the small settlement known as Tor’s Deep. Males, females and children were trembling, panic stricken with fear. They screamed, moaned and prayed to the man-gods, but it made little difference, for at this time they had abandon
ed the world.
For hour after hour, giant fireballs rained down from the sky killing many, and screeching demons ripped the rest apart, stabbing them through the hearts with their black bony fingers, until there was nothing left of the once thriving village. At the end of this cataclysmic event, Koki’s unearthly laughter echoed throughout the mountainside as wave upon wave of demons arrived to reinforce their brothers. Nothing remained. Not a living soul survived the onslaught. Even the flesh of the land had been stripped to the bone.
*
When Kira arrived back at the place where the warriors lay sleeping off the effects of the wine, all were still dozing with the exception of Rogan. He was sat by the light of a camp-fire making new arrows and sharpening old ones. Night had come and darkness fallen. Three bright new moons hung suspended against the skyline, newly risen from beneath the evening mists, and no wind stirred the leaves of the trees.
‘Well, did you find Silenus?’ asked Rogan
‘I did,’ she said smiling coyly, keeping him in suspense.
He stared at her impatiently. ‘Well?’
‘I’ve got it. I’ve got the answer,’ she said, blowing him a kiss.
Dropping the arrow in his hand he jumped to his feet and hugged her, spinning her around, kissing her tenderly on the lips. Kira, taken a little by surprise but liking what he had done responded by taking his head in her hands, pulling him close, kissing him hard on the lips – and neither knew who was more surprised. The kiss seemed to last an eternity as each gazed into the other’s eyes, and it became a moment for them both to treasure.
‘I really like you,’ she said in her silky tone, ‘but for now I must concentrate on the task at hand, for I have dreamt of competing in, and winning the Quest all of my life.’
‘I too,’ he said, surprised by her reaction and not wanting to spoil the moment, ‘I think it’s time we bedded down for the night anyway. Come sunrise when Lydas returns, you can give him the answer to the riddle and we’ll leave with our purse of Golden Starpieces.’
The Blackhawks Impossible Quest Page 4