It did not take long for the wall to move high enough for the two warriors to duck under, so they both rushed forward and entered the cavern beyond.
Bray and Gwion both exhaled sharply, emitting a whistle at what they saw. They were in a glade with a water fall only a few steps from them. Flowers were blooming all around them, but what the two of them noticed first was the acres of treasure that occupied the cave. Glancing to his right, Bray noticed that there was another cavern behind this one; a wide arch of rock giving access to it.
Almost in despair, Bray looked at the treasure. He was about to comment, but his son stopped him, by echoing his fears, “How are we going to find one necklace amongst all this?”
Bray did not answer; he wracked his brains for a brief moment then winked and embraced his Mogya. He let his power wander across the cavern, touching each piece of treasure, as it went. Suddenly, he stopped; he could see the necklace, it was by the arch, draped across a suit of golden armour.
As he rushed towards it, he sensed that they were not alone. From what he could tell, whatever was in the cavern beyond the arch was not angry, merely curious. Leaning forward to pick up the necklace, he realised that the creature that he could sense was Swarim.
As the Dragon waded towards him, he calmly placed the necklace in his pocket and then almost chuckled, as he felt the Dragon’s surprise that he knew, who he was. Without stopping, he sent out a thought, ‘One day my friend you will understand.’ Bray’s use of the word ‘friend’ halted Swarim in his tracks, which gave Bray time to run back to Gwion. Turning back to the confused black Dragon, he called, “I will see you in about a hundred years or so.”
Hearing this, Swarim let out a loud harrumph and without any further sound, coiled his tail around him and lay down. Seeing this, Bray and Gwion left the cave - back to where Vif was waiting. As they approached her, Gwion called, “We have it.”
Gwion saw the smile on his father’s face, but waited until he had clambered up onto Vif’s back and then, once he was sitting behind Bray, asked, “What was so amusing?”
Bray bobbed his head towards the cave and then, as Vif shot into the air, called, “It was satisfying to be able to confuse a Dragon for once.”
Gwion shook his head, as he heard this and asked, “Why didn’t we stop to talk?”
Bray turned slightly and replied, “We don’t have time.” He then leant forward and pointed towards the distant city, before calling, “We have to go to the South Vif, but we must not be spotted or we’ll be in a battle that we may not be able to win.”
With this Vif laughed and retorted, “Next you can tell me how to fly.”
This took Bray back a bit, he knew that Primero had a sense of humour, but everybody put that down to the people he had grown up with, but Swarim and Ratora were always so formal, so Vif’s sarcasm came as a bit of a shock.
Not realising the surprise that her remark had caused, Vif swept back her wings and banked right, heading towards Velumia. She flew so fast and high that nobody on the ground would have been able to see her. Soon, they were sailing over the top of The Great Forest. As they passed over the ancient gnarled trees, they flew faster still, quickly moving away from them and over the grey slate of the Aquin Mountains.
As they neared the Velumian forest, Bray leant across Vif’s shoulder and scanned the area below them. As they slowed, he spotted the same clearing, which in many years to come would be the staging post for the battle, which would defeat the Demon-King. Seeing it, he called, “Set down there. There is enough room for you to hide and I know a way into the city from there.”
Vif did as Bray asked - much to her passenger’s terror, once more dropping like a stone, hurtling towards the clearing faster than any arrow. The wind battered the two warriors, drawing tears from their eyes as they drew closer to the floor.
Suddenly, she flared her wings and halted her fall, mere inches from the ground, landing lightly next to the small stream, which ran through a glade. As Bray clambered from Vif’s back, he glanced up at her and although he was not quite sure, he thought that she was trying not to laugh.
Gwion leapt down and chuckled as he said, “I only know one other Dragon, who likes to do that. I think you’re going to like Primero.”
Vif shook her head and replied, “I’m not that good with children.”
Bray laughed and said, “Primero is no child, he is almost twice your size and has fought almost as many battles as I have.”
Vif raised one of her horned eyebrows and with a look, which Bray could definitely say gave her the appearance of being a little more than interested, said, “He is that big is he?” Bray shook his head and chuckled, as she protested, “What!” She then added coyly, “I was in that Amber for a very long time you know.”
With this, Bray and Gwion laughed loudly. Bray suddenly realised where they were and placed his finger over his lips before whispering, “Shush, we don’t want to bring the Demon-King’s troll army down on us.”
Vif suddenly shivered in revulsion, so Gwion asked, “Did Merihim create Trolls as well.”
Vif shook her head and with a sick expression on her face, replied, “No, it is just that they are filthy creatures, they will eat just about anything.”
Bray moved across to her and said, “Don’t worry, we know one that you will like, he eats nothing but vegetables.”
Vif looked at him closely trying to determine whether he was making sport of her. Seeing that he was not, she nodded and said, “It would be nice to meet a civilised troll.”
Bray and Gwion did not think you could really call Manil civilised, but they did not say as much. Bray realised that they could not dally much longer, so he said, “Right Vif, we have to go.”
Vif smiled and replied, “Well wait for me then.”
To this, Bray shook his head and said, “You would be too conspicuous Vif.”
The Dragon smiled and then began glowing. She shone so brightly that the two warriors had to turn away. As her glow ceased, Bray turned back to her and gaped in shock. He realised that Gwion had looked as well, judging by his awed gasp at seeing the most beautiful naked woman he had ever seen. Bray swallowed hard and quickly took off his pack. He rummaged inside, before pulling out a pair of trousers and a shirt, which he threw to Vif, as he stuttered, “V...V...Vif, you will stick out even more if you don’t put those on.” He then grabbed his son and as he turned around, spun Gwion away from the beautiful Dragon.
Vif shook her head, throwing her long golden hair across her ample bosom and as she pulled the clothes on, said, “I’ll never understand humans.”
After a while, Bray glanced over his shoulder. Seeing her tie the waistband of the trousers in a knot, Bray turned to his son and hit him playfully on the arm, before saying, “Close your mouth Gwion you’ll catch flies.”
Gwion turned around, staring at Vif, unsure of how to act. Although he had experienced more than most people twice his age, he was still an adolescent teenager, which made it even harder to cope with Vif’s beauty. He dropped his gaze uncomfortably to the ground, as she looked at him; shaking her head at ‘the stupidity of humans,’ as she did.
Chuckling to himself, Bray spun around and rushed up the small slope, which would lead him to the moors on the other side. Gwion tried to forget his embarrassment and charged after his father, but still did not dare look at Vif.
The three travellers pushed through the thick foliage and kept clambering upwards, until they were standing on the crest of the craggy hill. Gwion kept shooting awkward glances at Vif, who was running in front of him; his adolescent mind distracting him from the task at hand, as it flitted back to memories of her perfect form.
After a while, Gwion gritted his teeth and growled at himself, which drew strange looks from the other two. Setting his mind resolute against the thoughts running through his juvenile head, he concentrated solely on their mission, forcing himself not to look at the beautiful, emerald-eyed woman.
As they began running down the slope
on the other side, Bray marvelled at the thick green grass, which was growing around Velumia. He had become so accustomed to the black burnt ground outside of the city that he had forgotten what it had looked like before the Anlam army had burnt it.
Glancing towards the ground, Bray picked out a route, which would take him safely down the hill. He then looked back to make sure that the other two were following his trail and then halted in the treeline, peering out through the thick foliage at the moors.
Ancient Contempt
For a few minutes, Bray scanned the Mooreland in front of him. Eventually, he found what he was looking for and rushed across to where a series of natural trenches began to meander across the moors. As he clambered into the deep gash in the ground, ending up wading waist deep in black oily water, Bray remembered the last time he had run through the network of trenches to escape from Velumia. However, that time he was following Manil.
Gwion watched his father start wading through the thick water and then turned towards Vif. Still not looking into her eyes he asked, “Do you mind if I go in front?”
Unaware of her effect on the teenage warrior, but seeing his discomfort, she nodded and indicated for him to go on. Thankful for small mercies, Gwion slid into the murky water and quickly sped after Bray, splashing slightly, as he moved. Hearing this, Bray spun around and put a finger to his lips. Gwion saw this and slowed down, minimising his splash as much as he could.
They crawled through the watery trenches until they finally reached the riverbank. Grabbing a handful of the long reeds growing around the edge of the trench, he hauled himself up. Once he was out and lying on the bank, he lowered his hand and helped the other two out. As soon as he had pulled Vif out of the water, he looked up and down the river for the shallowest part, to make crossing it easier. Eventually he spotted a series of large rocks, which jutted out of the fast flowing water at regular intervals.
Making his way across to the large stones, Bray glanced back to see if the others were following. Seeing that they were, he marvelled at how the still bare footed Vif was striding across the course moors, as if she were wearing a pair of sturdy boots.
As he neared the edge of the riverbank, he leapt at the closest of the rocks. He landed heavily, nearly slipping on the moss, which covered it, but managing to catch his balance. Shooting back an awkward smile to Gwion, who was watching his father with concern etched on his face, he tried to cover his clumsiness.
Bray made his way across the precarious rocks, until he finally reached the bank on the other side of the river. He waited until both Bray and Vif were standing next to him, before pushing through a large bush. He pushed the branches to one side and peered out at the city, before scanning the impressive walls. After a while, he spotted the sewer grate that he had once used to escape. Seeing that there was no guard on it, he rushed out of the bush towards the ladder, which led up into it.
Bray reached the steps and then ensured the others were following, before climbing up. As he made it to the top and clambered onto the ledge inside the sewer chamber, he spotted a large Mountain-troll squatting a few yards inside the grate. As he watched, he almost vomited when he watched it throw a human skull into the water and continue munching on a hunk of meat. He peered down at Gwion, bobbed his head towards the troll and hissed, “Mountain-troll.”
With this Gwion immediately embraced his Mogya and tried to push past Bray, who was balancing precariously on the top of the ladder. Nearly falling, Bray placed his hand on Gwion’s shoulder and shook his head. Gwion slowed and released his Mogya, as Bray whispered, “Let me get up first.”
Gwion nodded, as Vif stared impassively at both of them. Bray realise that he was wasting time, so he braced himself, embraced his Mogya and, powering forward with both arms, leapt onto the ledge above him.
As he landed, the troll heard his feet striking the stone and immediately stood up, growling. Bray did not give the troll chance to attack; he drew his sword and ran at the huge beast, swinging his sword in a deadly arc.
The troll lunged at Bray, but the powerful warrior merely skipped to one side and stabbed the troll through the chest. The beast screamed in agony and began swinging wildly at Bray; its huge clawed fists, knocking lumps out of the wall.
Bray leapt out of the way of the falling rubble and then, as his feet hit the floor, leapt to kick the huge beast in the chest. The troll stumbled back and halted, struggling for balance on the edge of the ledge, nearly falling into the torrent of sewer water, which ran through the centre of the chamber.
Bray lifted his blade and prepared to strike, but the Mountain-troll managed to regain its balance quicker than he expected. It flung out a thickly muscled arm and punched Bray in the head. The force of the blow sent him crashing into the wall, all senses reeling as he slid to the floor. He barely managed to hold onto his Mogya, but all he had the power to do was heal himself, as the massive troll picked him up. He would have died there and then, if it were not for Vif and Gwion rushing across to save him.
Vif leapt at the beast’s head and raked her Mogya enriched fingers down its face. Her hands dug deep as if she had sharpened daggers on her nails, drawing a scream of pain from the mighty beast.
Gwion did not use his Mogya, knowing that he would have to look after his father. However, he did not need it, because the searing pain inflicted by Vif’s nails was distracting the beast, making it easy for him to drive his blade through its heart without it realising that he was attacking.
Gwion’s blade struck true and the beast stiffened slightly, before gurgling and then falling backwards. It struck the river below with an almighty splash, before sinking into the murky water.
Vif moved across to Bray, who although slightly groggy was relatively unscathed, due to his Mogya’s healing power. She helped him to his feet, as Gwion moved across to them. He peered at his father with concern, but Bray merely smiled weakly and said, “I’m alright, don’t worry.”
Vif nodded and then replied, “We should keep going. Eventually the troll’s absence will be noticed.”
With this Gwion, looked at the expanse of water running through the centre of the chamber and asked, “How are we going to get across that?”
Bray put a hand out to steady himself and then moved out of the pile of rubble, which now lay at the bottom of the wall. He pointed to a tunnel in front of them, which Gwion could see was not tall enough for them to stand in and said, “We can get into the Palace dungeons through there.”
At this comment, Gwion rolled his eyes and quipped, “I thought that was a place we had to avoid.”
Vif peered at Gwion in mock disgust and then shook her head as she said, “I almost recognise that as humour.”
Bray chuckled, as he regained his composure. He indicated with a wave of his hand towards the tunnel and said, “Come on then, let’s go and kidnap the most powerful being that this planet has ever seen.” With this, he sped across to the tunnel.
The other two followed him closely; Gwion nipped in front of Vif so that he did not have to crawl behind her. They soon pushed into the tunnel keeping their heads low, ensuring that they did not touch the thick moss and whatever else covered walls above them.
As Bray crawled up the tunnel, he realised that he had taken the wrong route, because this was not the same way as Avrit had led him all those years ago.
However, he pushed on, hoping to see a grate in the wall, which would allow him to see where he was. It took another few minutes, before he had his wish granted. As he drew level with the bars in the wall, he peered out and shuddered, as a horrific memory flashed through his head; on the other side of the grate, Bray could see the Velumian dungeons. As he peered through, dozens of bedraggled prisoners marched past him, with two rock-trolls bullying them forward.
Bray glanced back at Gwion and Vif, shaking his head as he did so. Gwion was about to ask what he had seen, but as he opened his mouth, Bray placed a finger across his lips, silencing him. Once he was sure that Gwion would not make a sound, Bra
y crept past the grate.
The three warriors continued following the twisting tunnel for another hour. Eventually, they came to a large chamber. Bray peered into the gloom and spotted a ladder against the far wall. He made his way towards it and began climbing. After a while, he glanced down at the other two, who were climbing up behind him and pointed to an air vent, which was just above his head. Gwion nodded to him, showing him that he had seen it, but Vif was still deep in the shadows, lower down, so Bray could not make out if she knew at what he was pointing.
Deciding quickly that Vif would follow Gwion, even if she had not seen him indicating towards the grate, Bray held the ladder tightly and leant out. He tried to grab the bars, but they were just out of reach. He could get hold of the ledge, but the vent was too far away.
Frustrated, Bray let a small amount of Mogya trickle through his body and sent his thoughts towards the bars. Once he had done this, the grate began to shake, before rising out from the wall. Bray glanced down with his eyes at the lush carpeted floor on the other side of the wall and sent the grill floating gently onto it.
As soon as the vent was on the floor, Bray released his Mogya. Bracing himself against the slight nausea that hit him, he reached forward, grabbed the ledge and pulled himself through the tight hole, left by the metal vent. As he wriggled through, he kept glancing left and right to make sure that the King’s troops did not discover him. Finally, he managed to get himself through and stood up, keeping watch, as the others clambered through the vent.
Once they were all standing on the deep pile carpet, Bray led them down the corridor, which had many different paintings of past rulers of Anlam covering its walls. He halted as he came to the top of a twisting staircase. Turning to Gwion, Bray whispered, “We are in the visitors’ quarters. If we go down these stairs, we’ll come to a corridor, which leads to the throne room.”
Destruction of a God (A Stolen Soul Book 2) Page 16