The Flames of Time (Flames of Time Series Book 1)

by Peter Knyte

  Slightly surprised by the discovery of this new found knowledge, we got back to the boat, and in no time seemed to be picking out the features mentioned in the scroll and identified by the hotel owner. This line of islands, that cave, reef, promontory, all framed in the background by the ever-present Cretan lowlands, and the more distant spine of mountains that ran along the entire length of the island.

  Faron it seemed had been a master mariner, and it took no time at all for us to get to the wide open bay, that was the last stage of our journey by sea. From here we would see if his directions away from the sea were as good.

  Stephanos agreed to wait for us for a week, before taking his leave and heading back to Jaffa, which we hoped would be more than enough time to confirm the whereabouts of Faron’s sanctuary and the tablets it contained.

  We’d had to bring a bit more equipment with us this time, on account of the colder and wetter weather, and we’d been hoping to find some horses to help carry the additional burden. But it seemed the village where we’d landed, which was towered over by a set of sheer cliffs that encroached almost to the sea, had loaned out several of their animals to another party just a few weeks earlier. A party that had then for reasons known only to themselves, left those animals at a village on the other side of island, where they had yet to be reclaimed.

  This left us humping the rest of the weight on our own backs, and trusting much of our heavier and more valuable items, including the scroll and tablets, to the barely secure strong room in the village’s post office. A situation that needless to say, none of us was very happy with.

  We’d squandered our early start negotiating for animals and then a storage room, and it was well-past lunchtime before we finally set off through the crack-like opening in those sheer cliffs and into the mountains. This took us up a steep sided gorge, that Harry had identified as the most likely match to that mentioned in the scroll.

  It was a tiring climb to begin with, with lots of loose rock and shale underfoot, that sent us sliding back a step for every two we took forward. Added to that there was very little in the way of an established path, which meant we ended up having to cross and re-cross the broad stream that ran down through the gorge as we tried to find our way. But gradually the ground levelled off and the going got a little easier. There wasn’t very much detail on this bit of the route in the scroll, but we knew we were looking for one of the side gorges that fed into the main gorge and that Faron had placed the tablets near to a waterfall in that side-gorge.

  All of these sounded like clear details we could look out for, until Peter pointed out that the entire network of gorges in this part of the island had probably been formed by the steady erosion of rivers and streams. So it was very likely there would be any number of waterfalls and hanging gorges for us to search. On the plus side we were never more than a couple of minutes’ walk from an abundant supply of fresh water, which would have been a very unwelcome additional weight.

  Once over the initial hump at the start the gorge it seemed hardly any time before the light started to wane and we were forced to think about a camp for the night. The nights were still drawing in quickly, and bringing the cold in with them, but we’d no sooner decided to focus our efforts on finding a good site than we came across the first side gorge, high up on the right hand side of the path we were on. There was a small trickle of a stream, coming down from it, but hardly enough to suggest a waterfall above like the one we sought. Having said that, there was no way of knowing how much it’s flow might have changed over time, or even how much it might swell once the winters melt waters reached this far, as such it was clear we’d have to go up and investigate.

  After a quick conference amongst ourselves, we decided rather than back-track the following day, or risk not finding a decent camp for the evening, we’d split our forces. Harry, Peter and Jean would go up to investigate the gorge now, while the rest of us scouted around where we were to find and set up a camp for the night. This meant they could also drop their packs, to save carrying them all the way up to the side gorge, and just reclaim them on the way back.

  There were plenty of sheltered enough looking camp sites in the main gorge for us to pick from, but the valley sides were still quite steep in this area, which meant most of the likely looking sites were littered with rocks that had obviously fallen from above. But a few hundred meters further on, the gorge widened out a little and the valley sides flattened out enough to accommodate a good growth of trees. There was also a natural hollow in the ground with a shepherd’s dry-stone hut at one end and a low wall that looked like it might offer a bit of shelter, from both the wind, should it pick up, and any falling rocks.

  The hut itself was far too small to accommodate all of us, but the hollow was big enough for the tents, and had a basic cooking area, which would more than suffice.

  We’d collected the wood from the nearby trees, built a good fire and just finished putting the tents up when Harry, Peter and Jean caught us up. Apparently the side valley had held little of interest, but had afforded a good view further up the main gorge, revealing several other side valleys for us to explore the following day.

  I’d definitely become accustomed to the comforts of hotel living during our time in Jerusalem, which made going back to the bare ground a bit of shock to the system when I went off to my bed for the evening. But I somehow managed to still get a good night’s sleep, albeit with a few aches to remind me of how much I’d softened up.

  The following morning saw us up and ready to go in no time. There was little else in the directions from the scroll to guide us, so we just had to make our way methodically up the main gorge, splitting off in twos or threes to check out the side valleys as we came across them.

  It was laborious work, with a lot of climbing and then time consuming searching, made none the easier by the occasional rain shower and the fact that some of the little hanging valleys extended a long way from main gorge. By midday we’d checked out another two valleys and were waiting for Luke and Marlow to catch us up from their search of a third. The floor of the main gorge was beginning to get a little steeper now, but at the same time, its sides were becoming shallower, making the side valleys increasingly accessible.

  The afternoon’s searching was much the same as the morning; steady progress, but nothing to indicate we were getting any closer. We’d come across another good campsite in the late afternoon, and after we each returned from our last searches for the day, we made our way back down the gorge a little to the site we’d chosen, and started to make our camp. There was still a good hour of light left by the time we’d finished setting up the camp, and started to prepare the evenings meal, but it had been a long day and we were all in need of rest.

  While still cool and little damp, the wind had dropped and the sun had emerged, so while Peter and Luke laboured over the food, the rest of us were all able to enjoy the last warming rays of ruddy sunlight before it sank behind the valley wall.

  ‘That is a very welcome sight, is it not?’ commented Jean, as he relaxed against a rock, and looked up at the sun glittering through the tree branches and leaves on the opposite side of the gorge. ‘Almost as though the leaves perform the pirouette in order to catch every last ray of the evening light.’

  We could always rely upon Jean for the unexpected poetic insights, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thought, as I looked over toward him. But as I glanced at Jean, I also couldn’t help but smile at the rather rueful frown on Harry’s face, as he sat next to him looking up at the gilt edged trees and shrubs of Jean’s inspiration.

  ‘You know Jean,’ Harry said with an almost exaggerated hesitation, as he stood up, ‘There are times when I wonder what we’d do without you.’

  This brought Jean’s attention back to earth, but he clearly suspected there was a trap in Harry’s complimentary words.

  ‘As always you are too kind mon ami,’ he replied with a patient smile and raised eye brow.

  ‘Not at all Jean,’ said Harr
y, walking over toward the sunset, and then turning to face us all with the setting sun and gilded trees behind him. ‘Does this not remind you of the story of the cave and shadows, so eloquently described by Plato himself?

  ‘As the sun sets behind the valley wall, we all sit and admire the golden light as it falls upon the trees and bushes closest toward us, without of course considering… where the source of that light might come from… ‘

  ‘The trees are concealing a small valley,’ responded Jean with sudden realisation in his voice, ‘If there were a valley wall behind those wonderful golden edged leaves, then they would be in shade and not illuminated anywhere near so prettily. It is only because the sunlight is free to shine through them, that we see them thus.’

  As with so many things, as soon as it was pointed out it was obvious. The top of the valley walls were of course quite irregular, and what looked like a slight dip, with perhaps a few trees growing on a protruding ledge was, as soon as the sun dropped down behind it, clearly another small gorge, with its entrance quite naturally overgrown and hidden.

  It was a bit of a scrabble to get up there, and take a tentative look, before the evening light would become too weak for us to safely descend. But, tired as we all were, the proximity and mystery of this hidden valley was just too much for us. We had to climb up and take a quick look at what lay beyond, before almost immediately turning around to head back down.

  While doing anything more than confirming the valley’s existence, was beyond us for that evening. First thing the following morning, and a little better rested, it made a nice easy start to the day, as for once we decided to take a look around as a whole party before embarking on the search proper.

  It was a nice enough spot, much like the other side gorges we’d already investigated, and with all of us looking it took no time at all to rule it out as yet another dead end. On the plus side though, we’d learned a valuable lesson, and at least knew now that we needed to be much more careful in our searching.

  As the morning wore on, we once again split into our groups in order to search the various small valleys and crevices we came across. Unfortunately half way through the morning, we got to the point where the main gorge split into two equally sized channels going off in different directions. There was no way we’d be able to pursue both of these routes simultaneously without leaving one group or the other short of equipment.

  There was nothing really to choose between them, but there was a small comment in the scroll which seemed to indicate the valley we wanted was on the eastern side of the main gorge, either that or we should follow the eastern most path, when it presented itself. Androus could shed no further light on the question no matter how he tried to re-interpret the scroll, but with nothing else to go on it was as good a choice as any so we went to the east.

  The sunlight seemed to be becoming a bit more reliable again, and as the day wore on, the temperature rose to quite a pleasant level for walking and climbing, which we all appreciated after having endured the cool and damp of the previous night.

  By mid-afternoon, we’d moved quite a way further up into the mountains, and had split up again to examine a couple of small ravines. Harry, Luke and Peter splitting off into one group, Androus and Marlow a second, leaving Jean and myself as third group to continue further up the main channel. We’d got into the regular habit of dropping our packs in the main valley rather than trying to climb with them, just carrying a little water and some basic tools to do the actual searching. This helped to cut down on any unnecessary exertion, and served as a convenient marker for the rest of the group, so we all knew where one another were. But sometimes it was also just impracticable, and now with just the two of us left in the main valley, we came across just such a time.

  Periodically, as the makeup of stone along the main valley altered, the entire character of the gorge would change. The softer the stone the broader the valley became, and the more gently sloping and weathered the sides. Where it became harder, the width of the gorge would constrict and the walls become more vertical. Well the stone was obviously a little harder at this point, and as we approached a narrow point in the gorge, we both saw the tell-tale signs of a small stream running down the valley floor toward the main stream. There was small copse of mature trees up against the valley side hiding the source of the stream. But we could both immediately see that the water came from much higher up, with a small glittering waterfall, that splashed and bounced its way down the steep rocky wall, before disappearing behind the cover of the trees.

  ‘I believe it is your turn to lead, is it not George?’ commented Jean as we made our way over to the copse of trees.

  ‘It is Jean, it is,’ I responded, eyeing the formidable climb ahead of me. ‘Though of course I’d be more than happy to allow you to take my place… as the more experienced climber.’

  ‘Thank you mon ami, that is most kind,’ he replied, with a good humoured smile on his face, ‘but I would not deprive you of this valuable learning experience.’

  It was a lovely spot, once we got to the base of the rock. With the small cascade of water shimmering and falling into a perfect little pool, which overflowed into the stream and thence down into the valley.

  I was a little preoccupied in trying to decide how to approach the climb, to really pick up on the details, until Jean brought my attention back to our surroundings.

  ‘That is a little odd,’ he said, walking over toward where a group of birds were squabbling over a small patch of ground. ‘It appears that someone else has recently stopped here, and not done a very good job of clearing up their campsite when they left.’

  I don’t think we’d have noticed, had it not been for the birds, which had been fighting over some scraps of food carelessly disposed of. But once we’d moved closer it was clear a good-sized party of people had spent some time here. Most of the camp had been cleaned up of course, at least superficially, the fire being properly buried, and the animal dung disposed of. Which should have been enough for the site to go unnoticed by anyone not looking for it. But when you were right on top of it, it didn’t take a seasoned tracker to spot the footprints and other traces left in the soft sandy soil.

  ‘It looks like a bit too much activity for one of the local shepherds,’ I ventured, ‘perhaps it was that group the villagers mentioned, they may have camped here.’

  ‘Yes, but why here my friend?’ Jean responded, squinting up at the rock face overhead, ‘Does not the risk of falling rocks make this a little too inconvenient for most people?’

  We decided to leave it there, as there was little more to be done, even if other people had stayed here. We turned our attention back to the rock face and concentrated on the climb, in order to rule out the small valley up above.

  The climb itself was a little easier than I’d anticipated, and while still a little strenuous in places, with the two of us, to help one another out, it was more a question of picking the right route, than needing any real expertise.

  I was a little disappointed once we got to the top, the valley only seemed to go on for a few hundred meters, before gradually petering out. Having said that though, there was another very attractive waterfall at the far end of the valley, with another pool and bubbling stream. Just as impressively to the left, the valley wall and surrounding hillside fell away almost entirely revealing the most amazing views across the surrounding hills, and down to the impossibly attractive sea beyond.

  It was a spectacular vista, that would have been well worthy of one Jean’s sketches, but we were here for a purpose, and with the climb out of the way, thoughts started to nag at my mind again about why someone would be making their camp in this particular location.

  It didn’t take us long to find the reason. We followed the stream as it meandered across the small valley, and up to the waterfall. For a few minutes it looked like another dead end, but we were nothing if not thorough. So after ruling out one side of the waterfall, we automatically moved across to the check the other, and im
mediately saw the entrance into a cave almost hidden by the sheet of water.

  I think I forgot to breathe for a second, as I realised this might suddenly be the place we were looking for. But a moment later my impatience got the better of me and I was plunging through the chilly water into the cave beyond, closely followed by Jean. It was gloomy inside, and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust, as we hadn’t thought to bring a torch with us, but there was just enough light coming through the curtain of water to illuminate the shallow cave behind the waterfall. Unfortunately there was also enough light for us to see that we hadn’t got here first.

  My heart aflutter with anticipation, now sank at the sight before us. Whoever it was that had beaten us to the tablets, had obviously taken considerably less care in excavating them from their setting than we had in Uruk. The cover-stone with the deeply incised clock symbol, had clearly just been smashed in from above, and now lay in a dozen fragments against the cave wall. Beneath where it had lain for centuries I could see that the bedrock had been carved and shaped to provide the spaces for the tablets, now nine empty spaces open to the air. There was another copper sheet green with age, which had been discarded along with the cover-stone, and several small piles of sand, which must have again acted as packing.

  Once our eyes had adjusted there was more than enough light to look around, so despite our disappointment we checked to make sure there was nothing left to be salvaged and then despondent, made our way back out into the light.

  I couldn’t believe we’d failed again, the bitter taste of bile rising to the back of my throat, which I had to wash away with some of the ice cold water from the stream. And that was before I stopped to think about the amount of energy and work we’d wasted again, and for nothing, I just couldn’t believe it.

  I looked at Jean, expecting to see the same disconsolate feelings written upon the features of his face, but was surprised to see an expression of deep concentration and even an edge of stern resolution.