The Aduramis Chronicles: Volumes 1-3: The Definitive Collection

by Harrison Davies

  ‘Come on, Coinin, there could be people dying on the other side,’ Marrok urged.

  ‘Shush, I’m thinking,’ he said. ‘This isn’t easy you know.’

  Marrok rolled his eyes and bit his lip impatiently, kicking at the timbers of the partly collapsed hallway.

  Coinin concentrated hard and then swung round to face his brother. “Did you hear that?’

  They both listened intently, and then there it was: a faint cry for help coming from the other side of the wreckage.

  ‘Hello, yes, we hear you. Who is it?’

  They listened again, and the faint response came. ‘It’s Aniol; we’re trapped.’

  Forgetting his ankle, Coinin jumped in the air and whooped for joy, tears welling in his eyes. He grabbed Marrok and shook him. ‘She’s alive!’

  All through the searching, he had held the fear that she was dead right back in the far reaches of his mind, and he had not permitted the thought to come forward.

  Marrok prised himself from his sibling and raised his brows. ‘The magic?’ He pursed his lips.

  ‘Hold on Aniol; we’re coming to rescue you. Get away from the timbers if you can.’

  Coinin stood before the collapsed hallway and closed his eyes. A spell had created a little home at the forefront of his mind and was vying to be the top choice. He raised his hands and held them shoulder length apart with the palms at ninety degrees. ‘Stand back, Marrok.’

  Marrok did as was told, though stayed at his brother's side and watched in wonder as very quickly a gold tint grew brighter and brighter before them.

  Coinin furrowed his brow in deep concentration, and sweat beads began to form on his forehead. He gritted his teeth, and his jawline squared off. His hands clawed slightly, and a deep orange glow lit up the surrounding hallway. Coinin did as Menin had instructed in their lessons and pictured the desired outcome of the spell and not the casting of the magic itself.

  Before his eyes, the timbers blocking the way began to glow several hues of orange and red, like embers in a fireplace. One by one the wood beams disintegrated into ash, the remnants gathering in a pile on the deck.

  Marrok was in awe at Coinin’s skill. The timbers appeared to burn and turn to ash without setting the rest of the hallway ablaze. There was no noticeable heat produced and no sound other than the crackling of timber.

  Soon, a sizeable hole had been created big enough to squeeze through, and Coinin clasped his fingers together and stopped conjuring. He felt momentarily dizzy and leant against the wall of the hallway for a moment.

  ‘Are you well?’ Marrok asked.

  ‘I’m fine, just a little dizzy. It’ll pass.’

  ‘I’ll see to Aniol; you catch up with me,’ Marrok added and began to squeeze through the gap Coinin had made. A cloud of ash was flung into the air, and he coughed and squinted so that none would irritate his eyes.

  On the far side of the hallway collapse, Marrok peered into the gloom. ‘There’s no light back here,’ he called back.

  ‘Hold on,’ Coinin yelled.

  Marrok blinked and shaded his eyes as Coinin emerged from the hole holding a fiery torch before him. The light danced around the hallway, and the brothers could see that this section of the ship had suffered extensive damage, so to know that there was at least one survivor brought hope there would be more.

  ‘Where did you find that?’ Marrok asked.

  ‘Magic.’ Coinin used the torch in a sweeping motion to try and locate Aniol, but could not see her.

  ‘Over here!’ she cried out. ‘I’m pinned.’

  The brothers stepped carefully over a pile of broken wood and saw a fallen beam trapping her across the legs. Marrok checked her limbs while Coinin held her hand.

  ‘Are you hurt?’ Coinin asked.

  Aniol squeezed his hand. ‘No, I just can’t move.’

  ‘We’ll get you out of there in no time,’ Marrok reassured.

  He gripped the thick beam and heaved, although, to his dismay, it remained steadfast. He tried again and this time put all his strength into it. The beam shifted slightly, but not enough for Aniol to extract her legs. ‘We need more people to help,’ he growled.

  As if on cue, a door ahead of them splintered and broke in two. It was pushed open, and the two halves fell to the floor. Len’i and Jericho stepped from the cabin and looked about them dazed.

  ‘What happened?’ Jericho asked, spotting them.

  ‘Aniol is trapped. Can you help us?’ Coinin asked.

  Without a word, the two strong warriors came to Marrok’s aid and together they were able to move the damaged beam high enough for Coinin to drag Aniol from under it. Once clear, the timber was dropped with a crash and a billow of dust.

  ‘Thank you,’ Aniol said in gratitude.

  ‘Is there anyone else alive?’ Len’i asked.

  ‘There are some survivors, though sadly we’ve lost a few good people. I’m sorry to say Captain Menin among them.’

  Aniol made a noise, and Coinin saw her turn away with a hand across her mouth, her eyes closed.

  Jericho looked pained. It would break Laliala’s heart to learn of her brother’s death. ‘With your kind indulgence, Curator, I should be the one to tell Laliala,’ Jericho insisted.

  Coinin knew of their past and friendship and agreed with a simple nod.

  ‘What now?’ Len’i asked.

  ‘Let’s treat the injured and get them to safety up on deck. The dead we can bury later.’

  ‘Where’s Axl? Aniol suddenly shrieked. ‘He was right with me.’

  Marrok took Coinin’s fire torch and ventured deeper into the hallway. Just before he reached the end, he spotted that a tree had penetrated the hull and was now sticking up through the decking. What surprised him most was that a figure was dangling in mid air from its trunk.

  ‘There’s someone here!’ He shouted back. The figure had his head bent to his chest, and fearing the worst, Marrok approached the seemingly dead man and lifted the head to see a bloody gash on his forehead. He felt for signs of life and found a pulse. ‘He’s fine, just knocked out. Some help please!’

  ‘Is it Axl?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  Jericho and Len’i joined Marrok once more and helped the young man down from the tree. His belt had been caught by a branch as the tree crashed through the flooring and he smacked his head as he was hoisted into the air.

  They laid him down on the ground and Jericho knelt next to him to tend to his wound. ‘It’s Axl, Aniol. Don’t worry; he’s fine. But he’ll have one big headache when he wakes up.’

  Aniol broke down in tears and scrambled unsteadily to her feet, the feeling slowly returning to her limbs.

  ‘Aniol, no, you must rest,’ Coinin warned.

  ‘There’ll be plenty of time for rest later,’ she replied a little haughtily. ‘Right now, I need to tend to him.’

  Coinin did not argue. He threw his hands up in the air and headed back through the gap he had made in the debris to help the other survivors.

  ❖

  It took the remaining crew, soldiers, and former prisoners the rest of the day to carefully carry the injured to safety aboard the deck of the ship. At Captain Dalia’s order, makeshift canvas tents had been erected by fastening stout rope between the remaining uprights.

  She had set up her own system for treating the wounded. Those who were quiet would be seen first as they were the most likely to be bleeding internally. If they yelled and screamed it meant that their lungs were working and it was probable that no internal injuries had occurred, so their treatment could wait.

  Mending broken bones was one thing—dealing with deathly ill patients was not her area of expertise and, despite her best efforts, many died of complications. Sadly, the healer had also succumbed to death.

  Now the grisly task of removing the dead had begun in earnest. Len’i had briefly suggested that they set fire to the ship and honour the dead with a pyre. Coinin stated that he had promised Hur’al that he would bury
the dead, and that put pay to the idea of any quick funeral.

  Spare sails and cloth had been cut into large enough strips to wrap a body inside, and then each body was brought up on deck and lowered over the side of the ship onto a flat, featureless land.

  The sun-baked earth had cracked into intricate patterns that snaked away as far as the eye could see. It did not appear that water had visited this place in a long time and that worried Coinin. He was up to his neck in a trench that the uninjured survivors had been digging all evening, and the little water they had was quickly running out. They were down to one gulp per person, every hour.

  Soon the trench was of sufficient depth and length to accommodate the dead, and carefully each victim was lowered into the hole and placed neatly in a line. Coinin’s conscience ate away at him yet again upon seeing the bodies of the brave men and women who had willingly given their lives for the greater good. He had requested that Hur’al be buried separately as a way of showing honour to the man who had given so much to them; first his own love, Lacretia, and then the ultimate gift, his life.

  The hard earth was shovelled over the bodies and patted down, after which, those who could stood solemnly around the fresh graves and offered thanks to the departed.

  Jericho offered to say a few words of thank you and Coinin gratefully accepted, thankful that he did not have to speak in front of the gathered who he felt sure would blame him for the death of their friends.

  ‘Friends, old and new. It is at this sad time that we offer thanks and praise to the brave souls who have paid the ultimate sacrifice in an effort, nay, a struggle, to better this world. Each of them knew the risks and yet willingly ventured forth with such vim and vigour that I was astounded. Captain Hur’al Menin, a man of such outstanding courage who believed in, without question, our plight and dedicated himself, his ship and his crew to our cause, I thank you, Sir. You are an inspiration. Each of us here today must give sincere praise, not mere lip service, to our friends who now journey to the after-life. I, for one, will never forget them, and I will honour them for always. I invite you to do the same. May the mighty Lord Rindor bless you. So be it.’

  ‘So be it,’ a chorus of voices said in unison. Even Len’i added his voice to the throng.

  Saddened and tearful faces remained and stared blankly at the graves until slowly, one by one, the gathered wandered back to the ship.

  Draken placed an arm around Coinin and squeezed him lightly. ‘I’m sorry this had to happen. Hur’al was a good man.’

  ‘Yes, he was.’

  ‘Do you have a plan for getting us out of this mess?’

  ‘I will know that when I’ve spoken to Axl. He seems knowledgeable and resourceful enough to find a way out of our predicament. When I know, you will know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do.’

  ‘Certainly. Just don’t leave it too long; the water is running out.’

  Coinin shrugged off his uncle. ‘I’m aware of that,’ he said hotly and limped away.

  The night began to draw in and with it the cold of a desert at night. Extra blankets and cloaks had been salvaged and what food they could find was being cooked in open braziers on the remainder of the bridge.

  The food smelled good, though no one felt like eating. Jericho, however, was on the war path and demanded that everyone eat despite their feelings. Food was often a morale booster, and yet so was wine, which is why he ordered that a surviving barrel be brought up from the hold and distributed among those remaining.

  Before too long, merriment ensued, and people pleasured themselves with stories and singing. Many reminisced about their fallen comrades and honoured them with toasts. Then slowly, it began to grow quiet as tiredness set in and sleep overtook them.

  Across the deck, humans, elves, dwarves and an orc all found as comfortable a section of deck as they could and curled up to sleep.

  ❖

  It was three in the morning, judging by the moon, and Jericho smiled to himself. Why he was smiling he had no idea, he certainly did not feel like it. Images of his deceased wife played before his eyes, fond times and memories that warmed him. He missed the way she would greet him of an evening, play with his hair until he slept or just be there to listen to his constant moaning. He had taken her for granted sometimes and now he felt lost and alone without her. She had been everything to him and the funerals today had brought home to him just how much he missed her.

  A low rumbling sound grabbed his attention, and he looked about him wildly for the source just as the ship juddered sharply and listed to the port. He held onto the railing of the bridge and peered over the side of the ship. It was pitch black, and he could see nothing.

  The ship juddered violently again and this time rocked from side to side. Several bleary-eyed crewmen and women, still drunk, complained about the noise. A handful of his own troops woke up and reached for weapons.

  Before he had a chance to say anything, his stomach leapt into his throat as the ship dropped at terrifying speed.

  Had they not landed already? How were they falling?

  Before he could answer his own questions, the ship crashed into water sending huge waves over the deck. Jericho was thrown to the floor, and he held on to the railing as cascading water soaked him and threatened to sweep him away.

  The water subsided quickly, and he was able to sit up and look around. Above him was a gaping ship-sized hole in what was once the floor of the desert. Stars could be seen glinting down at him through the gap. They had fallen through a rupture in a natural cave system that held a fast flowing river, that much he could hear, yet he could not see anything else of their new surroundings in the poor light.

  Terrified screams made him jump to his feet, and he crossed the bridge and leant over it. ‘Will you shut up! Screaming and crying isn’t going to help anyone!’ he yelled.

  Despite their fears, the majority of the crew grew quiet and listened to what he had to say. He had thought quickly, his lightning sharp mind already forming a plan.

  ‘It would appear that we’ve fallen through the earth above into a cave. Now, the good news is that there is a river running through it because we all know where rivers lead.’

  Several scared faces brightened at this. The river would most likely afford them escape to the sea, and from there they could follow the coastline till they found civilisation.

  ‘I want everyone to gather water and then rest. Tomorrow we will begin to build whatever craft we can and sail our way out of here.’ That was a plan he was sure even Coinin would approve of.

  The once terrified crew cheered and whooped for joy. If only they knew that Jericho did not share their newfound optimism. Far too much had gone wrong on this journey as it was.

  ❖

  The daylight brought some comfort to everyone as a beam of light streamed through the gaping hole above them and warmed the occupants on deck. Not only that, it gave a clear indication of their surroundings.

  As Jericho had said, they were indeed inside a cave system that seemed to stretch for miles and appeared to be angling downwards slightly. Stalactites that had grown over hundreds of years hung from the roof, whilst dozens of stalagmites extended upward as if to meet their counterparts. There was a river roughly as wide as the ship and fast flowing. Thankfully it wasn’t deep enough to sink it.

  The General spotted something odd in the gloom of the cave and off to the right. He ventured towards what appeared initially to be a rockfall. What had caught his eye was more than that. A metallic glint of a large hinge had. As he neared, he saw to his annoyance, that a gigantic pile of rocks covered a doorway. Old and intact, only the top portion of one leaf was exposed. He clambered over the rock and reached the exposed section. As he attempted to knock on the dark oak door, his hand was repelled by a shimmering field of light.

  ‘Magic,’ he grumbled and instantly knew that they would not be able to use the portal as an exit even if they could move the rocks. Dejected, he made his way back to the others to inform Coinin
of his find.

  Stiff, sleepy-headed survivors began to wake up one by one and marvel at their surroundings. They were far too deep to be able to climb back through the hole in the roof of the cavern, and so Jericho’s previous suggestion that they build rafts and ride their way to the sea seemed like the best option.

  The ship’s carpenter kicked at Jericho’s boot. The General had gone to bed later than everyone else since he had taken guard duty until relieved by a junior officer.

  The General opened an eye and grunted. ‘What is it?’

  ‘It’s daylight, Sir. What’re your orders?’ The carpenter said. Several other crewmen stood behind him.

  Jericho was taken aback. It seemed that the crew were looking to him as a temporary leader in the absence of their Captain, and he had not expected that. Leaderless, they were lost. He had consulted with Coinin during the night, and they agreed his plan was sound.

  ‘I want you to strip this ship of everything we can use as a resource and build enough rafts to get us down this river,’ he told the carpenter.

  ‘That will take some time.’

  ‘Take all the time you need. Use whatever men you need to get the job done and hopefully we’ll be out of here before too long.’

  The carpenter nodded. ‘Anything else, Sir?’

  ‘Yes actually; fetch Axl. I think you may find him invaluable.’

  Jericho spotted him and waved him over. ‘Quindil, I want to send you on a scouting party to search for food and an alternative way out of this cave. Head downriver and then report back if you find something.’

  ‘Aye, Sir.’ Quindil saluted and too hurried away, no further instruction needed.

  Jericho sighed and hung his head. He had done as he had promised, now he needed to seek out Coinin and Marrok. Some things needed to be discussed, and he desired some time alone with them. Several minutes later he found them below deck attempting to straighten out a cabin so that an injured soldier or two could be made more comfortable.