“I think this time we’ve found the monk,” said the hunter.
The company watched in silence. Ty’s thoughts were ablaze in wonder at the bravery of these beasts from the north. Or was it stupidity? Or insanity? The assault on the central tower went on and on. Yet, slowly, the gnolls appeared to learn the best route to take up the tower wall, and each wave of climbers ascended higher than its predecessors. Gradually they grew nearer the slit window high in the tower.
Suddenly a blue strobe of light flashed in the tower window. A thick cobalt vapor surged out of the opening and down the wall. A wave generated by the flash struck the gnoll attackers clinging to the stone blocks, and some were knocked off. The rest were quickly drenched in the blue light and simply exploded. Their body parts rained down on the courtyard below. A moment of stillness preceded the roar of the gnolls bellowing as never before. The number of tower climbers lining up to make their attempt increased threefold. More rushed into the yard.
From the stone wall, the company of four watched in wonder. Then Quillen rolled over on his back and looked up into the hazy sky. “It’s him,” he said. “Lamus is in there.”
“Do you think it is him?” said Hasdel.
“You saw that blue light force. Only Lamus could deliver such power,” said the hunter.
“Can he hold them? They are attempting to breach the gate and come up through the tower’s center,” said Hasdel.
“I can see more blue light near the entrance!” said Ty. They all focused on the gate to the tower. It was clear that the monk had created a barrier of magic to prevent a breach at the gate.
“It’s Lamus for certain,” said Quillen. “He’s holding them off, that old monk!” The hunter then added, “But he can’t hold out forever.”
“Look!” said Hasdel, “Trolls!”
Quillen reached over and pulled Ty back to the ground as the young hunter raised his head above the protection of the wall. Ty had never seen a troll. His heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and fear as he watched the four huge beasts approach the tower. They stood hunched over at the neck, seven to eight feet tall. Maybe even taller, thought Ty. Their massive bodies were corded with muscle tightly wrapped under thick gray skin. Metal plates were riveted across vital places on their chests and arms, making them look like living pieces of armor. Each of them carried an enormous club. The much smaller gnolls moved quickly out of the path of the trolls as they pushed their way through the throng. Even from a distance, Ty saw the dominance of the race. When they reached the base of the tower, they turned to face the direction from which they had come.
At that moment, a frail, shrouded rider mounted on an emaciated black steed stepped into view. Gnolls near the ruin where the shrouded one entered hurriedly moved out of its path.
“Their master,” whispered Kellenor softly.
Chapter 27
From behind the crumbled wall, Ty and the small company watched the shrouded rider approach the gate to the scarred and battered stone structure. His bony steed moved in slow and deliberate but strangely powerful strides. The gnolls pulled back and stood frozen, apparently afraid to move in the presence of their master. The four imposing trolls stood armed with clubs by the massive doors to the ancient edifice harboring the aged monk.
The mounted creature raised its arm and held it there. The arm dropped as a signal, and the trolls swung their clubs into the tower portal. A great roar went up amid the gnolls. As the trolls beat on the gate, the gnolls resumed their attack on the tower window. The assault on the Tower of Melda surged forward with great force as the battle escalated.
The four giant trolls swung in sequence, one after the other, two on each side of the huge double doors safeguarding the entrance to the tower. It was as though the metal-covered barriers were built to keep out just those who were now determined to break in. The attack on the doors began with a steadfast cadence: one-two-three-four, one-two-three-four. The rhythm held steady as the four giant trolls worked as one battery. In a short time, the tone of the hammering changed. Ty could hear it shift. A roar went up among the gnolls. The doors must be giving way, he thought. It stirred the gnolls into action, and they resumed their attack up the wall of the tower. Ty moved along the low wall to get a better view. An entire column of gnolls set out to scale the bulwark at once. They rose as one slowly. Then a few found better footing and advanced above their comrades. Another row formed below them and started the climb. The base of the tower was soon covered with gnolls crawling slowly upward.
Suddenly, another blue light burst from the high tower window, and a cobalt-laden fog spilled out of the opening and down the tower wall. As the mist reached the climbing gnolls below, they exploded off the tower. One after another, as the bright blue fog covered them, their muscular bodies burst like melons, their remains strewn across the courtyard below. Still, more gnolls started up the wall.
“The monk cannot last,” said the hunter as he pulled away from the sight of the battle to face his companions.
“My prince sent us to find the monk,” declared Hasdel. His eyes narrowed and his lips held firm. “We have found him, and we are now only waiting to witness his demise.”
At the moment Hasdel spoke, the shrouded rider who had been sitting on his steed moved forward. The mount was solid black, even its eyes. Instantly, the trolls stopped their assault on the gate and the gnolls retreated from the tower. The rider raised his arm again, pointing toward the blue glow at the small window. Abruptly, a red bolt of light shot from his covered arm into the blue glimmer. The two light sources exploded with such radiance that both man and beast shielded their eyes.
Ty slid back behind the wall and blew out a gust of air at the sight of the shrouded rider’s power.
Huddling behind the road wall, Hasdel said aloud, “We’ve got to do something.”
The dwarf captain nodded. “There may be a way.”
“How?” queried the gava.
“I recognize the laying of the stones. My ancients designed this Melda. I have seen its likeness before.”
“What does that tell you, Captain?”
“There should be a tunnel under the terrace leading to the tower.”
“Would not the monk know of the tunnel?”
“He would,” Quillen interrupted. “No one knows these ruins like Lamus. There must be a reason he cannot use it.”
“Then let that be reason for us to go to him.” The gava grasped the dwarf by the shoulder. “Where is the entrance, Captain?”
“I will have to find it.” And with nothing more said, the huge dwarf rolled over the crumbled rock wall and crawled on his stomach toward the terrace wall. He quickly strode to the stone bulwark supporting the terrace. The horde’s attention was so focused on the fight being waged at the tower entrance that the dwarf reached the terrace undetected. He touched the stone bulwark with both his huge hands. As he felt the stones, he moved to his left. The remaining company followed his path in parallel, concealing themselves behind the road wall. At one point, a section of a building ruin jutted up higher than the surrounding area, cutting off the view of the fight at the tower entrance. Quillen rose to his feet. He jumped over the rock wall and raced to the stone bulwark where the dwarf stood. Ty and Hasdel followed. The four pressed up against the stones. The dwarf continued to feel the stones as they slowly inched their way along. The sound of the battle at the tower carried over from the terrace above. The hammering of the trolls against the gate resumed and the cries of the gnolls rose again.
“What is he looking for?” asked Ty.
“Captain, how can we help you? What are you looking for?” Hasdel offered.
Without turning, Kellenor replied, “The stones at the entrance will be cooler.”
Immediately all the hands of the company raised to glide gently over the weathered and darkened stones of the bulwark supporting the terraced base of the tower. Ty and Hasdel moved far to the right of the barrier without being exposed to the forces attacking the tower. Quil
len had moved to the left of the Captain. His hands slid quickly over the stones as if he were washing them.
The dwarf moved slower over the stones and then stopped. “Here.” He pointed to the stones before them. “We dig here.”
Without speaking, they frantically dug into the side of the terrace with their knives, removing the stones from the bulwark. A small pile of stones quickly took form behind them. The dwarf captain removed more stones than the other three together. Promptly Quillen motioned for Ty to step aside. “Climb up and keep watch for us,” the hunter said. Ty complied without a word. From his vantage point, he could see only a sliver of the blue light at the tower entrance. The light would fade and then return. Ty felt a strange, deep ache—the monk was losing his power.
“We’re through!” called the hunter softly, and Ty tumbled back down the side of the terrace. A hole the size of a man appeared in the side of the stone bulwark: a tunnel.
“He’s not doing well,” said Ty. “The monk in the tower, I mean.”
“Wait,” said Hasdel. “How can we let him know we are coming? He will cut us down as soon as he sees us if he does not know we have come to aid him.”
“Give me the king’s ring,” said the hunter to Hasdel. He reached his hand back for the ring without looking at the messenger. Instead, he looked forward and studied the tower. He moved down the road carelessly, looking up at the tall structure, trying to attain a specific view, his hand still extended and waiting for Hasdel to deposit the king’s ring given to him by Prince Andre.
Without speaking, Hasdel produced the ring and placed it in the hand of the hunter.
Quillen drew up his longbow. He looked through his quiver and chose a fine polished hardwood arrow. He placed the arrow through the ring and wrapped the ring with thread he pulled loose from his cloak, so it held firm near the quill. The others watched the hunter without speaking as he climbed onto the knoll above the tunnel. Ty scrambled after him. Quillen glanced back at Hasdel and grinned. The hunter slowly drew the arrow back. He held it there and then released it. The arrow flew in a low arc straight for the tower. The company watched in astonishment as the arrow with the king’s ring sailed cleanly through the slit window of the tower of Melda.
“That should announce our coming,” Quillen said as he turned back toward the tunnel. Ty, his mouth open, marveled at the placement of the arrow. Quillen tugged on Ty’s outer garment to draw him off the knoll and down to the tunnel’s entrance. “Come,” said the hunter. “They will have seen the arrow and will be searching for the archer.”
“Take hold of my belt,” said Kellenor to Hasdel. Without being told, Ty grabbed Hasdel’s belt, and Quillen placed his hand firmly on Ty’s shoulder. The hunter nodded to the huge dwarf, and the company entered the pitch-dark tunnel.
Chapter 28
As they stumbled out of the light of day and into the black hole in the side of the terrace, Hasdel turned and spoke to Ty. “Dwarves can see well in the dark.”
The company moved quickly forward. An ankle-deep layer of dust covered the floor of the tunnel. Except for the dust, the flooring was surprisingly clear of debris, testimony to the craftsmanship of the ancient builders.
“Take a deep breath,” came a final instruction from Hasdel.
Spider webs filled the chamber like a cocoon. Kellenor held his stout forearm shield in front of him with two hands like a battering ram as they surged forward. The compact company of four, covered in a blanket of webs, picked up the pace and began rushing down the tunnel passage. A cloud of dust rose quickly from the shuffle of the lead dwarf, whose feet did not rise above the powder on the floor. The company advanced directly toward the center, no turns, only straight ahead. Kellenor must have known the path, thought Ty, because he kept up a charging pace. Then Ty understood why they were rushing forward. Air. Breathing became harder. He could hear the deep breathing of the dwarf up ahead. He could feel Hasdel’s body as he clung to the gava’s belt. He felt his own legs start to go numb. Hasdel seemed to be pulling farther ahead of him. He clung to the gava’s belt. Ty stretched out to keep connected to the messenger. Suddenly, he fell. Down he went, face first into the dust floor.
Quillen reached down and pulled the boy’s upper body up out of the layer of dust. The hunter stepped alongside the young Riverman in the narrow passage. He reached under Ty’s arm and lifted him as they struggled forward. “Pick it up, young tracker,” he whispered. Ty began to cough; it was his first reaction after being pulled up from the floor. The hunter and the boy pushed ahead, one step after the other on the strength of the older man. They kept moving forward. Then abruptly they stopped. Hasdel ran into the back of the dwarf, and Ty and Quillen collided with both of them. The three men fell to the floor of the tunnel. They lay there for a moment, taking short, panting gasps. Ty launched into involuntary coughing. He fell on his side, his body lifting off the floor with each cough.
The dwarf felt the walls with his huge hands.
“Can I help?” asked Quillen, his voice hoarse.
“The wall swings into the tunnel,” said the dwarf as he took slow and deliberate breaths.
“It was not designed to be opened from the tunnel side, was it?” said Quillen.
The dwarf did not reply. His hands moved over the wall, feeling for the hinge at the separation between the stones. His thick fingers probed each crevasse. He took up his long knife from the scabbard tied about his calf and traced the pivoting section of stone. “Here,” he grunted, “push here.”
Quillen rose and, guided by the hands of the dwarf in the pitch darkness, found the pivotal hinge stone and threw his body into it.
Hasdel felt the body of the boy lying next to him. He patted the convulsing boy’s shoulder and spoke to him through halted breathing. “Come, lad. Lift your head up.” Hasdel moved his arm around the boy, and, crawling, he dragged himself and the boy farther into the tunnel, out of the way.
The dwarf, using his long knife, dug into the edge of the opening side of the movable stone section. Quillen pressed hard, his deep guttural noise eclipsing the coughs of the boy in the tunnel.
“It moved!” said the exhausted hunter.
Kellenor slid over and took up the position of the hunter. He threw his body into the stone wall. The wall moved again. This time, a faint light shone through the crack in the wall. Kellenor now reached his hands about the wall and pulled. Slowly, the stone door opened. Dim light sliced through and cool air rushed in. Quillen leaned against the wall near the opening and took deep breaths.
The dwarf reached down and lifted the gava, who was nearest him, by his clothing. Hasdel righted himself and rushed toward the bright opening, breathing through his mouth. Kellenor stepped back and lifted Ty from the tunnel floor, pushing him through the opening. Ty fell facedown on the stone steps and rolled over. His chest heaved as he gulped air. Quillen followed Ty through the opening. Last, the huge dwarf stepped through, spider webs of untold age clinging to his body. Ty lay on his back across the step at the opening. His upper body and face were covered in a paste of gray dust. Hasdel sat on the steps above Ty, and Quillen rested on the steps below the opening. Three steps down, the small landing ended abruptly in a stone wall. Kellenor stood upright but sideways in the passageway, being too broad to stand otherwise. No one spoke. All that was heard was the deep breathing of the four companions over the rhythmic drubbing sound of trolls beating on the huge doors to the tower.
The only light in the small space of the stairway column came from a slit window several levels above the tunnel opening. The inside walls of the stairwell curved on both sides with steps only the width of a man’s shoulders. The chamber was filled with a thousand years of debris that had blown in through the narrow window and chips of stone that had flaked off the walls as the structure expanded and shrank with the temperature fluctuations. Spider webs glistened in the sliver of light and danced to even the slightest movement.
“Where are we, Captain?” asked Hasdel.
“We are
in a concealed passageway inside the tower wall. The main spiral staircase inside the tower is on the other side of this inner wall. This narrow stairwell we are in will lead to the loft room. Your monk must be up there,” answered Kellenor.
“Where do these downward steps lead?” asked Quillen.
“Nowhere. That landing is the base of the tower. The entrance to the tower is just beyond the wall,” said the dwarf. “We should go up now.” He waited for the others to respond.
Hasdel rose first. “Ty, come on, lad.” Without another word, the messenger ascended the stairwell.
Next came Quillen, who had to step over the dust-covered boy lying on his back. “Up,” was all he said to Ty as he passed over him. At Quillen’s command, Ty lifted himself onto his elbows and turned out of the way of the dwarf. Kellenor then stepped past the boy and followed the hunter up the narrow passage, moving sideways so his shoulders could slide through.
Ty felt too weak to move and remained sitting on the lower steps. The three others stopped a few steps above him.
Hasdel looked past Quillen and the dwarf, around the curve in the inner wall, to Ty. “Come, Riverman,” he said. Ty pushed himself off the wall only to fall back. His body flexed in a shallow cough.
Kellenor intervened. “We can pick him up when we return. It is a long climb to the top.”
Quillen looked long at Ty, then nodded and gently nudged the gava’s shoulder. He looked again at young Ty, slumped over at the foot of the stairwell.
“The captain is right. Leave him here,” said Quillen. The two men and the dwarf began the slow climb to the top.
Ty was alone. With the others gone, he became aware again of the sound of the battle being waged outside. The cadence of the trolls beating on the doors continued. Ty now felt a faint vibration in the stone steps he was seated on. The muffled cries of the swarming gnolls filtered down into the chamber; from where, he knew not. He sat, still covered in the gray dust. The outcome of the battle was unmistakable, he now reasoned. The old tower could not withstand the onslaught for much longer. Soon the doors would give way and gnolls would storm in. His companions had gone to fight alongside the monk, who they were certain was trapped in the tower’s loft. He, on the other hand, sat in the dirt and debris of a thousand-year-old chamber, waiting.
The Ruins of Melda Page 16