They stopped for a short break and some lunch. Soon after resuming their journey, the horses began splashing through knee deep muddy water. All around them the ground was covered with a stagnant and foul smelling liquid. Gnarled twisted trees thrust out of the brackish water on broken hillocks, but everything in between the black trunks was a swampy fetid lake.
Dathan wrinkled his nose. “It bloody stinks.”
“The water is getting deeper,” Warren noted, scanning the dark ground.
Aldrick peered over the saddle. “I agree, although it’s difficult to see anything in this light.”
“The bloody horses could break a leg,” Dathan worried. “Is there any blasted dry land ahead?”
Aldrick held up his torch, squinting in the dim light. “There might be a hill up ahead.”
“Let’s go for it. Maybe we can get a bloody look around at this damn place.”
Aldrick nodded and led the group towards the dark shape, which grew in size as they approached it. When they reached the edge of the dark hill, the horses climbed out of the water and up a slight incline. Their hooves made unusual crunching sounds as they clambered up the broken, uneven ground.
“It doesn’t bloody smell any better here,” Dathan noted.
“What is strange sound?” Aelianna wondered, leaning over the saddle to peer at the darkness below. “Ground look funny.”
“Looks like it’s covered in sticks,” Warren observed.
“Too many bloody sticks.”
“This feels bad…” Garrick whispered.
Aldrick slid off his horse, and knelt to examine the ground.
“What is it?”
Aldrick stood and held out a long cylindrical object, ashen in color, so that the others could see.
“That...looks like a bone,” Warren gulped.
Aldrick grimaced. “It is a bone, and a rather large one at that.”
“But that would bloody mean…” Dathan began.
“That this entire hill is made of bones,” Aldrick finished. “We should get out of here.”
Before the ramifications of the discovery could fully set in, a primordial bloodthirsty roar echoed from the north; a savage and monstrous cry like nothing Aldrick had ever heard before. He tossed the bone to the ground and jumped onto his mount as the others struggled to regain control of their startled horses.
The terrified horses needed no further encouragement as another brutal roar pealed through the dark humid forest. They bolted south heedless of what might lay hidden in the dark muddy water. Behind them a dark shadow abruptly appeared on the hill of bones and let forth a bestial growl so raw and terrifying that even Aldrick felt a chill down his spine. A loud splash could be heard behind them as the creature bounded after them, slobbering and panting.
“We’re doomed!” Warren cried out in a panic.
“Shut up and ride!” Aldrick shouted. The rest galloped in silence, and even Garrick rode closely behind them.
The flames of their torches sputtered and popped from the rush of air as they raced, and it was nearly impossible to see what lay ahead. They could, Aldrick thought wryly, be running from one danger directly into another, but there was little choice in the matter. He knew from another terrifying roar directly behind them, that whatever was chasing them was gaining ground.
Aldrick risked a quick glance back, but could see nothing more than a black shape bounding after them. He had a flash of fear at the thought it might be the blue-scaled creature they had escaped in the mountains. There were only two things of which he was certain, however: the beast had gleaming yellow eyes, and based on the height of the piercing golden orbs on the nebulous ebon shape, the creature was quite large. Neither realization made him feel any better.
The horses panted heavily, struggling against their terror and the dark muddy water. When Aldrick began to think that his horse would make it no further, Garrick broke his self imposed silence and called out hoarsely, “We must turn and face it!”
“NO!” Warren cried out frantically. “We’ll die!”
“We must!” Garrick shouted back. “Our lives depend on it!”
Aldrick considered for just a moment, and then made up his mind. Reining his horse in hard, he slid and splashed to a stop. The others barreled past, but saw him slowing and sawed at the reins of their own mounts. Aldrick jumped down, and quickly retrieved his swords from his saddle pack. In a heartbeat Garrick was beside him, his own sword in hand and all shred of hesitation from the previous day gone.
Aldrick nodded to his king. “Welcome back.”
“I wish I could say I was happy to be here,” Garrick quipped, a glimmer of his old self surfacing.
The thundering shadow sprang into the torchlight, and the ground trembled as it slid to a stop before them, panting and slobbering.
Dathan and Warren stood behind, their torches held high. In the guttering light of those dual flames, the face of the underworld was revealed.
Warren spoke, and his voice trembled. “That explains why no one has ever made it out of the forest.”
Chapter 10
Twin marble lions stood guard over the immense stone fireplace of the ancient library, watching enigmatically as Tiberius lit his pipe with a sliver from the fresh crackling fire. He stood and rubbed his hands briskly before the flames, with his pipe clenched between his teeth. Winter had settled in full force, and he did not need the howl of the wind whistling down the chimney to remind him that the temperature had dropped below freezing. Only standing directly in front of the roaring fire helped to mitigate the chill in the cavernous library on a cold winter morning like this.
A single set of footsteps approached from the palace entrance, echoing hollowly in the quiet morning. Tiberius spoke with the pipe still clenched between his teeth. “That doesn’t sound like Jelénna.”
“You always were a pinnacle of perception,” Jarvus quipped, appearing from behind an old bookcase with a tray in hand and feather duster tucked under one arm.
“I’ve heard it said I’m intelligent because I study so much,” Tiberius replied, “but I truly believe my own intellect pales next to your acumen and perspicacity.”
Jarvus chuckled. “And I live solely for your witty repartee, without which I would surely have slipped into my dotage by now.”
Tiberius sighed dramatically, but couldn’t hide his smile. “I will ignore your effrontery for today, as I see you’ve brought tea.”
Jarvus bowed low. “You truly are a bastion of kindness.”
Tiberius ignored the retort, and sat at his favorite table. He enjoyed its proximity to the roaring fireplace, yet it was not so close as to feel overheated. Pouring a cup of steaming tea, he laid down his pipe and picked up a biscuit with honey.
“Have you seen Jelénna and Adrias? They should have been here by now.”
Jarvus straightened from arranging the teacups. “Your son’s wife and her...offspring are on their way, hence the arrival of breakfast.”
“Take care how you speak of Adrias,” Tiberius said brusquely. “Amusing banter aside, he is my grandson.”
“I’m well aware of that,” Jarvus said with a sigh. “They are late because your…grandson was deciding whether he wished to attend.”
“What do you mean?”
“He was throwing a tantrum.”
Tiberius cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. “Yes, well...I’m sure he’ll be fine. He misses his father.”
“Of course,” Jarvus replied as innocently as possible.
There was a loud bang as the distant doors to the library slammed shut, and a heavy set of footsteps approached. Tiberius looked in the direction of the sound and felt a flash of disappoint when he saw Gormond come around the corner. The obese noble smiled widely when he spotted them at the table with hot tea and biscuits.
“Oh, I love biscuits and honey! Do you mind?” Without waiting for permission, he plopped down and began helping himself.
Tiberius grunted and took a draw from his carved bo
ne pipe. Exhaling, the de facto regent heard more footsteps approaching, a pair this time. Momentarily, Jelénna and Adrias appeared around the bookcase, a frown on both their faces.
“Good morning!”
Adrias perked up a little upon seeing Tiberius and called out, “Grandfather!”
“Come along boy and give your grandfather a big hug,” he said, laying his pipe back down on the table.
Adrias ran over to embrace him, after which Tiberius said, “So good to see you both this morning. I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Hello,” Gormond mumbled around a mouth full of biscuits.
Jelénna had a confused look, but forced a smile and looked at Tiberius. “Why wouldn’t we come?”
Tiberius glanced at Jarvus, and then turned his attention back to Jelénna. “No reason, I’m just happy to see you. Cold this morning, isn’t it?”
Jelénna involuntarily shivered. “Yes it is, I’m very happy to see there is a fire going.”
“I didn’t want to get out of bed,” Adrias added with a frown.
Tiberius ruffled the boy’s hair playfully. “That is understandable on such a chilly morning. Come, warm up with some tea.”
Jarvus poured two more cups of hot tea and passed around what was left of the biscuits with honey. With a glance at Gormond, he gave them a dramatic bow and announced, “From the look of things, you’ll soon be needing more biscuits, but first I must get some cleaning done. If that’s alright with you, of course.”
“Thank you Jarvus,” Tiberius nodded after sipping his tea.
“Your benevolence knows no bounds,” Jarvus replied before scooting off, feather duster in hand.
“I sincerely wish that man would retire,” Tiberius thought out loud.
“He is so old,” Adrias said, following the retreating servant with his eyes. “Perhaps he’ll just die.”
“Adrias!” Jelénna scolded. “Why would you say that?”
Adrias shrugged but said nothing, and turned back to his biscuit. Silence fell over the table as they ate and sipped their tea. Gormond also sat quietly while he chewed, but Tiberius suspected his silence would last only as long as the biscuits held out.
It was clear to him from the expression on the faces of his family that something was bothering them, but he remained quiet while they ate. It was his fervid belief, that worry and confrontation hindered digestion. Besides, considering how it was starting, it was likely to be a very long day, and the last thing he needed was a heavy biscuit sitting like a lump in his stomach, as delicious as it might be now.
They ate quietly; the only sounds in the cold stone library being the occasional pop of an old oak log in the fire, and Jarvus’ incongruous lighthearted whistling in the distance. Tiberius sat back and relit his pipe while scanning the faces of his companions, who both sat quietly with glum expressions.
After watching them awhile, he could take the silence no longer. “You two are awfully quiet this morning.”
“I’m sorry Tiberius,” Jelénna sighed, a touch of chagrin in her voice. “I realize we aren’t very pleasant company this morning.”
Tiberius hated bringing up painful memories, but felt compelled to ask, “Is it because of what happened with Phalstave? He claims that he was merely trying to play with the boy, and that his only crime is being extremely socially awkward.”
“I’m sorry,” Jelénna began with a snarl, “but what I saw did not look like playing.”
Gormond smacked his lips. “I don’t like that man, he gives me the creeps.”
Tiberius grunted, ignoring the stout noble. “Trust me my dear, I believe you, and I’m not happy about this. I’m taking the matter seriously, but Phalstave is a noble and has powerful friends. I have Paden and his men keeping a close eye on him, although so far he has done nothing but stay in his room, recovering from his injuries. For now I have no choice but to pretend we accept his apology, pathetic as it may be.”
“I appreciate it Tiberius,” Jelénna smiled, but it was obvious from her expression that she was not happy about the lack of punishment. She glanced at her son and added, “Unfortunately that is not the only matter, is it Adrias?”
Tiberius nodded thoughtfully. “Alright Adrias, we’ll start with you. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Adrias replied with a sullen expression.
“Are you hungry?” Gormond interjected.
Tiberius sighed. “Don’t give me that Adrias. Something is wrong.”
Adrias looked at his mother, who nodded. “It’s just that people are saying bad things about the king, but he is with father. Mother says they are not dead, but if they aren’t, then they are both off having fun adventures while I’m stuck here. It’s boring here! I should be having adventures too, I’m grownup now!”
While Adrias spoke, his voice grew louder and more impassioned until he was nearly shouting.
Tiberius was a little startled by his fervency, but was familiar with the argument. “We have talked about this before Adrias. I understand you find it boring here and want to have adventures of your own, but you must realize that your father and the king are on an important mission. I’m certain they are not out having fun.”
“They have been gone far too long,” Jelénna said with a tremor in her voice.
As much as Tiberius trusted their new king, this was one concern he shared. “I know they have been gone longer than was planned, but I trust them both and their ability to take care of themselves. I also trust their mission is important and vital to the future of this country.”
“I trust Aldrick of course,” Jelénna replied, “but where are they? What are they doing?”
“Father and the king are probably dead!” Adrias blurted.
Gormond gulped at the outburst, and stuffed a biscuit into his mouth.
“They most certainly are not dead!” Tiberius replied, a little harsher than he had intended. He paused, and took a deep, calming breath. “I sent a small contingent to Karkerech to track them, but I’ve yet to hear back from the group. Wherever they are however, I’m sure they are safe.”
“Why wouldn’t they send word?”
Tiberius wished he had a better answer for her, but all he could think to say was, “They must not have the means.” Changing the subject, he said, “What’s this about people saying bad things about the king?” His question addressed what Adrias had said, but he looked at Jelénna.
She cleared her throat with a pointed glance at Gormond. The pudgy noble appeared oblivious as he sat munching biscuits. Tiberius simply nodded, and so she continued. “You must have heard the rumors.”
“There are always rumors,” Tiberius replied sagely.
“Rumors yes, but outright rebellion?”
“Rebellion?” Tiberius was startled. “I’ve heard nothing of rebellion, other than what you’ve already told me. I must add that I still do not approve of what you have been doing, by the way.”
“As you said, it’s only a possibility,” Jelénna acknowledged with a guilty look. “But the rumors of the king being an Illyrian, and of troops massing on our border are everywhere. Those are no secret. No one understands why Illyria would invade us if our king is Illyrian, but he isn’t here to answer that, is he?”
“Go on.”
“I know you don’t like it, but after that time Adrias and I escaped from those men in the alley, I’ve visited the market several times listening for more information. Yesterday, I went shopping again in the square, and overheard two men speaking. After what happened, I’m amazed that these men would still gather in public to talk, but what I heard went way beyond any rumor. They spoke of an underground resistance that believes Gilmoure is an Illyrian spy, and framed Brodan for murder in some sort of diabolical plot. I missed some of what they said, but it seems the resistance is planning to break into the palace and free Brodan.”
Tiberius was stunned. He had heard many rumors, everything from Gilmoure being Illyrian to being dead. The latter had apparently been a secret plot by Br
odan to have him assassinated. He had heard nothing of a secret resistance planning to free Brodan, other than her suppositions from her encounter in the alley. If this piece of information was true, it did indeed go beyond the typical rumors he could ignore, and straight into the realm of treason.
Gormond stared quietly at the fire, as Jarvus continued to whistle, occasionally darting out from around a bookcase. His feather duster danced about the shelves, raising little clouds of dust which settled gently to the library floor like snow. What is he so happy about? Tiberius thought to himself crossly, before the answer came to him. He isn’t in charge of a country falling apart; their Illyrian king disappeared with his only son, and facing an apparent invasion from the same foreign kingdom. Why wouldn’t he be happy?
The Key of Creation: Book 03 - The Temple of Kian Page 8