Sarion tossed one of the lighted torches into the hole. Grundel stood beside him and they both watched the glare becoming dimmer and smaller. A few seconds passed and it reached the bottom of the shaft.
"A bit of a drop, but not too deep." Sarion scanned the captain's face for a reaction, but there was none.
"Wish me luck, my friend." Grundel knotted one end to his waist, grasping onto the sturdy coils with gloved hands. "All right, lower me slowly."
Rundin and Kalen obeyed his orders, and the captain entered the shaft, holding a lantern with one arm. The two warriors eased him down, and Sarion watched Grundel's shrinking form, the illuminating lantern emitting a ghostly light as he descended.
***
The shaft was smooth, and Grundel was amazed at the perfection of the hole. There were no flaws visible in the sides of the circular tunnel, or rocks jutting out. The captain looked up and saw the top of Sarion's head as he peered down at him, and then he disappeared entirely. Light now flickered beneath his feet from the brand as the bottom drew closer. In a few short moments Grundel reached the floor of the shaft, and he tugged on the rope a few times to let his men know he was all right. He raised the wick on his lantern, dispersing the shadows and revealing a spacious cavern. Objects gleamed dully from the floor of the cave.
They were bones.
Thousands of them.
The entire floor was littered with remains from the Killworm's victims. And judging from the grisly scene before him, there had been countless. They also seemed remarkably well-preserved. Grundel shuddered at the thought, chiding himself for his nervousness. The Killworm was long dead. The bones were most likely preserved by the secretions that the creature used to entrap its prey, and it appeared that the monster had been quite successful.
He moved cautiously through the cave, crouching down as he examined the piles of bone fragments. But what surprised Grundel the most was the variety of skeletons, the majority not even human. He didn't know what species the bones came from, but it pointed to a large selection of creatures, many coming from the Lowlands in all likelihood. They were now at the very edge of their frontiers, in a region where man was the intruder, and unwelcome. A lesson in biology as well as diversity could be learned from examining such specimens, he mused. Grundel continued his search, partly to gain insight about the lair of the legendary Killworm, and also to satisfy his own pangs of curiosity. The cavern stretched away for dozens of yards -- it was much larger than he'd first imagined. Bone fragments crunched beneath his feet as he paced about, the sounds making him wince. Even the idea of such a creature living in the hole centuries ago made him feel uneasy.
What a monster it had been.
He walked on, and the ceiling overhead became lower, angling down sharply as it reached the wall. The bones were less thick here, and Grundel noticed another tunnel ahead. There was a new shaft, this one leading into a different section. He bent down, poking the lantern inside. He couldn't see the end of it. And to go any further meant untying the rope. It took him only a moment to decide, and he loosened the coils holding him tight. Grundel soon had to crawl forward on hands and knees to continue.
The tunnel was musty and damp. He wondered if it led to the former resting area of the creature. It occurred to him that he might be the first person to ever venture inside the lair of a Killworm -- a dead one, of course. It stretched on for over a dozen yards, and then the sides fell away, the cavern mouth yawning open.
Grundel's eyes widened in shock.
Reflecting off his light were piles of gleaming objects. Gold and metal trinkets were scattered about. The treasures of the Killworm's victims. All the discarded belongings of the unfortunate creatures had been dragged into this chamber, being of no use to the Killworm. The captain stepped forward, examining the assortment of items. Old coins, helms, shields, and armor were pushed into a pile against the wall. Artifacts of a long-lost age. Etched into the weapons were strange designs, unfamiliar to him. One shield had a serpent coiled about a tree, another was square, carvings of an ancient language emblazoned on the front. Grundel eyed the objects, marveling at their unknown origin.
Another item caught his eye. It was a small obsidian rod, the top ending in a red orb. For a moment, he thought the orb flickered with energy, the depths coming to life, but it happened so quick that he couldn't be sure if it was his imagination. He picked up the shaft, expecting it to be cold to the touch. To Grundel's surprise, the rod felt warm in his hands, despite the thickness of his leather gloves. It appeared to be something of some value, but as to what purpose it served he could only wonder. As he stuck it into his pouch, he then noticed something else. At the far side of the cavern lay a pile of ebony shards, but they were not skeletal remains. He made his way over to the heap to take a closer look.
It was a large egg.
Cracked apart.
***
"What's taking him so long?"
A worried look creased Rundin's face, and he gently tugged at the rope.
"He reached bottom a while ago, that much we know. Maybe he found something of interest." Sarion offered an explanation, but didn't feel too sure himself. "If he doesn't come back soon, I'll go down after him."
"It's not your place to do that. The captain gave me strict orders to see to your safety, under any circumstances." Rundin gave Sarion a stern but honest look.
The two warriors stared at him, and he was certain of one thing -- that all of them wished there would be no need for any of them to go into the shaft and search for the captain.
***
A shudder ran through Grundel's lean form.
An egg!
It was not possible! After all these centuries, and something had yet survived in the lair? He backed up, as quietly as he could, eyes darting for signs of what had been hatched from the egg. There was no telling what manner of creature it might be.
Sword in hand, Grundel looked warily at the tunnel, now dreading the close confines. Whatever had crawled from that egg was very likely down there with him now, perhaps in another offshoot from the main cavern. He again crept into the tunnel, silently wishing that nothing would surprise him. He managed to gain the main cavern after a few harrowing moments, and he retraced his earlier progress, wincing at every crack of an old bone fragment as he spotted the line.
The captain hurried to tie the rope again, placing it firmly about his waist. His mind raced wildly. What had been born from that egg? Another form of predator maybe? It was certainly conceivable. Some other creature might have found the lair to its liking, and now lived there, finding it an ideal location. An extremely unpleasant thought...Grundel cursed himself for ignoring such a possibility.
Grundel approached the torch, the flame still giving off a smoky glow. He watched the curls of vapor drifting upwards, ready to ascend, when he stopped in his tracks...
Beneath a pile of bones lay a long figure, his boot almost touching the motionless body. He held his breath, staring at what rested before him, shrieking inwardly at what he'd nearly stepped on. And Grundel had no doubt as to what the result would have been.
A long, sinuous creature lay in slumber, several sets of legs attached to its side, each appendage ending in massive talons. Two feelers fronted a bulbous, hideous head. Curved pinchers rested below a pair of eyes, protruding on short stalks. Pieces of shell clung to the creature's hairy body, which pulsed in a steady pattern of deep breathing. Grundel had never seen a picture of one before, but he recognized it instantly.
It was a Killworm…
A Killworm!
Alive, and recently hatched. A baby. And the size of it already.
How had he not seen it before? Did it just come out from another hidden chamber? Maybe the creature heard his movements, and came to investigate, still tired from its infancy.
Grundel didn't have an answer, knowing only that he must somehow get by the sleeping monster. He stared down at the certain death that waited before him, debating his course of action. For one rash mom
ent he considered trying to kill it, slicing into its head with his sword, but he quickly banished the thought. There was no way of gauging the strength of the creature's hide, which appeared to be tightly scaled, a natural form of armor. And he remembered the legends about the monster, although many of them were most likely half-truths or fancy, concerning the creature's strength. It was said to be magical in nature, unable to be killed with steel or fire. Fables or not, he didn't want to test their merit. Scarcely daring to breathe, Grundel moved around the young Killworm, treading lightly on fragments, each step sending new waves of fear throughout his frame. He hoped the creature was resting deeply, because it was impossible for him to circle without making any noise.
The utter terror that Grundel faced within that lair would have been too much for an ordinary man, who would have broken from the horror and met a gruesome end, but the captain was no ordinary fighter, his training and experience unsurpassed. Step by tortuous step, the he moved on the tips of his boots, a cat on two legs, and he crept towards the shaft. More than once he stopped, breath held, as the creature shifted in its repose. Those were truly frightening moments, and he feared the end several times. He felt a cough rising in his chest and he nearly choked on his own wind.
Grundel never took his eyes off the monster, and he'd already decided to strike at the Killworm's head if it indeed roused from sleep. Grundel believed he might be able to get one jab at the beast, and perhaps not even that. There was also no way to judge the Killworm's speed.
He tried to will himself into his surroundings, every fiber of his body focused on silencing his movement. Despite the frailty of his situation, he finally managed to reach the torch, pulling at the rope and taking the dwindling flare with him. Immediately he felt himself being hoisted upwards, and the ground fled below him. Grundel's feet passed through the narrowing shaft, and as he moved higher, a sound caught his ear that froze the very blood in his veins.
There came a soft rustling from the lair. Had the Killworm awakened?
He was pulled up soundlessly, and couldn't dare risk calling out. If the creature suspected that its lair had been invaded, then it would swiftly clamber up the shaft and find him helplessly exposed.
Time crawled agonizingly by as the captain moved closer to the surface. Sarion's head appeared above him, and Grundel gestured with his arms, hoping that the man would recognize that something was wrong. The hole opened up, and the three men pulled him out, seeing the captain's sharp gesture for silence.
Sarion knew that something was dreadfully wrong by Grundel's expression. The captain quickly pointed down to the other warriors, one hand to his lips. Kalen led the way down, and the men carefully picked a path among the strewn boulders. Only when they had reached the bottom did Grundel voice his intentions.
"The horses, swiftly. Gather the men, we leave now. Make no sound." The warriors obeyed wordlessly, and the posted guards were signaled to head into the forest, away from the clearing.
While the fighters grabbed their belongings and hurried off, Grundel gazed back at the top of the hillock, awaiting any indication of movement. With luck, they might yet escape before the creature came to the surface. Most of the men started away, and Sarion returned to Grundel, leading two horses with him.
"What is it?" Sarion hissed to the captain, but the man only shook his head in return.
The company left the grassland, and Rundin's vigilant form waited for the pair to catch up. The sky was cloudless overhead, the moon nearing full splendor as it illuminated the clearing in a radiance of milky brightness. Sarion hazarded a glance behind his shoulder, his mouth aghast at the movement he saw on top of the rock pile as something large emerged into the night. Grundel noticed the stare, and they urged their mounts forward as a shrill noise broke through the area -- a high droning sound.
"Captain, make haste!" Rundin held his hand up, pointing to their former resting area.
The sky over the clearing glinted silver, as the moon glow reflected off strands of vast webbing that issued forth from the creature. The trees were a few yards ahead of them and they kicked their steeds for speed, knowing that death descended from above.
"Hurry!"
Rundin gestured frantically, his own face pale as he realized what was happening. The landscape looked surreal, eerily beautiful as the webbing rained down from the sky, glistening and deadly, falling quietly and clumping onto the ground below. The two men raced desperately forward and their horses bounded into the forest as the strands descended only a few feet behind, narrowly missing them.
Rundin turned his own mount as they finally reached him and all three entered the trees at once, storming into the forest as they escaped the deadly net of the Killworm.
***
Sarion gazed at the orange glow from the young fire, seated next to Grundel's crouched form as he chafed his hands together, stealing the warmth.
"Fortune smiles on you tonight, captain."
Well over an hour had passed since the near escape from the Killworm. The company had bolted into the forest, not stopping until the captain was convinced they were out of danger. They had no idea if the Killworm would pursue them, but Grundel guessed that it would stay near the lair, especially since it was newborn. Two guards were posted as Sarion and the captain held deep discussion, the other warriors attempting to catch a light sleep. The group had to settle for a treeless stream bed, which offered little protection but gave them a clear view if anything approached.
"Good fortune for all of us, my friend." The captain leaned back, weariness settling into his lean frame.
"Maybe it was a good thing that you searched the lair. The creature might have risen during the night, catching us off guard. It would have certainly been the end." Sarion pulled his cloak around his shoulders, fighting the cool night air.
The captain paused. "A horrible thought, but you may be right. I shudder to even think about it," he replied. "What worries me even more, though, is the fact that such a monster still exists . And outside Grammore yet. After all these centuries?"
Both men stared at the burning embers, and Sarion caught a glimpse of a warrior pacing at the edge of camp, vigilant in the night.
"I'm afraid there is no easy answer to that question, captain. And if there is one still living, then perhaps there are others. You saw only the one egg?"
Grundel nodded, his eyes closing.
"I can't believe the incubation period could last for so many generations. Something is gravely wrong here." Sarion absently brushed against the stubble on his chin, mind grasping at the dark implications that fluttered through his mind like bat wings.
"If we're to believe the ancient records, the Killworm is a long extinct species," said Grundel. "The relic of a dangerous and wild age. Hmm, I wonder what else will be proven false."
Sarion lifted his head up, staring into the sky. "That is my own fear as well. And I have a sinking we'll know a lot more about Grammore before our journey is finished if we fail to reach our quarry in time." He was quiet for a moment. "More than we would ever care to know," he added.
"I'll take the next watch, you should find some rest. There will be little for any of us in the next few days. We should see the Lowlands sometime tomorrow."
Sarion stood, peering westward as his mind wrestled against fears of the unknown, and the threats that awaited them in the days to come.
He knew there would be many.
***
The next morning dawned a cheerless and gloomy day, dark rain clouds hovering over the boughs of the forest, brooding and heavy. Routine took over as the fighters quickly packed their belongings and secured their weapons, with the full knowledge that they were entering a fierce and unpredictable wilderness, danger now behind and in front of them. The ogre's trail had been lost to them, and Sarion suggested they cut northward, angling in the direction where he believed the beast was most likely to travel, but admittedly it was only intuition. He hoped to catch the creature before nightfall, if luck was on their side,
although he didn't trust to such things. Those who relied on fortune would likely end up in an early grave, especially traveling inside such harsh country.
Sarion rode at the head of the company, the reliable Chertron by his side. The two men scanned the terrain, searching for any movement or traces of the ogre's passing. Sarion took in everything around him, consuming the sights and scents of the region. The instincts of a tracker were highly refined, adding an additional sense to those with mastery. And Sarion was one of the select view bestowed with such talents. He'd worked ceaselessly in his pursuit of learning the art and it had come to fruition at an early age for him, but he never stopped trying to improve. Just like with his practice of weaponry. These were skills that needed constant honing, and despite his relatively quite life on the farm, and he sparred regularly with members of his household and others from the nearby village, although his prowess was unmatched, and many came to him for advice on training, especially those entering the Western Watch.
Conversation was subdued, the fighters still unnerved by the previous night's harrowing escape from the Killworm. Gradually, the ground started to rise as they reached the line of hills that stood above the Grammore Lowlands. Sarion pressed the captain for the group to remain quiet and alert as they approached the edge of the increasingly dangerous region. Anything could happen, he told Grundel. And at any given time...
The day crawled on without event, and by early afternoon a chill rain began to fall, dampening their clothes and spirits alike. They brought out their cloaks, hardening themselves against the dismal and unfriendly weather. Upwards the ground rose, steeper and rockier. They took only one brief pause, and Sarion urged the captain for greater speed, knowing that the ogre was getting closer to its homeland, and the advantage would soon be on its side.
By late afternoon, the rain had progressed into a steady downpour, and it became difficult to see far ahead. The elevation continued to increase, noticeably higher as the day drew on. Faced with a choice, the company traveled along the higher edge of a heavily wooded gorge, deciding to pick that path over the easier vale below. Grundel rode in the middle of the company, a position from which to exercise the greatest control while affording him the maximum protection, although it was more from the stance of protocol than his personal desire for safety.
Ogre's Passing Page 5