by Rudi James
‘Any more tea?’ Drum asked.
Alex shook his head.
‘Then we'd best be on our way. It's a short walk to the banquet area and I'd like to see how Shirrac and the rest of them are getting on.’
Alex finished his tea and the two of them left the cottage. They stepped out into the bright morning sun and began to make their way towards the banquet area. Already it was very warm. Alex squinted in the strong sunlight, thankful that he had decided not to wear his blazer.
Before they reached the forest’s edge, Shirrac, Hogarth, Bremmish and the girls were already heading towards them, having been to the banquet area to help with the clearing up.
‘Everything is more or less back to normal,’ Shirrac informed them, when they were close enough to speak. ‘There's no need for you to go there.’
‘Good!’ Drum replied. ‘I can take Alex straight to my archives.’
Alex was secretly relieved that they didn't have to go back to the clearing. He was more than eager to see the archives. His thoughts were interrupted by Shirrac's companions.
‘Good morning Alex,’ shouted Leena and Jissi together. They both ran to Alex's side.
‘Morning girls,’ responded Alex.
Hogarth and Bremmish added their greetings. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ Hogarth asked.
‘Golden Dancing Hair looks fine to me,’ interrupted Bremmish, a big grin on his face.
‘I'm fine,’ replied Alex, grinning back. ‘I'm looking forward to seeing Drum’s archives.’
‘Well in that case,’ said Shirrac, ‘You'd better get going. I'd like Drum back in reasonable time to discuss matters. We've got lookouts posted for any signs of trouble.’
‘Can I go with them?’ Hogarth asked.
Shirrac thought for a moment. ‘I don't see why not, if it’s all right with Drum.’
Drum nodded and looked at Alex. ‘OK with you?’
‘Of course,’ replied Alex. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way.’
The two groups parted company and Drum, Alex and Hogarth made their way towards the forest.
‘The archives are in the forest?’ asked Alex, with a surprised look on his face.
‘Oh yes,’ Drum replied. ‘Well hidden from prying eyes.’
They reached the edge of the forest and entered without hesitation. The three of them kept a sharp lookout as they walked along a very narrow, barely discernible path. The trees became more densely packed with every step. Birds chirped and insects buzzed.
‘There are no Sand Dwellers about,’ remarked Drum. ‘The birds and insects remain strangely silent when they're around.’
Hogarth nodded in agreement.
After about fifteen minutes of twisting and turning, at which point Alex completely lost his sense of direction, they were suddenly confronted by a wall of dense bushes about three metres high. Drum stopped, turned and said, ‘Follow me.’
He and Hogarth made straight for a small gap at the base of the bushes. They went through the gap and disappeared from sight. Alex had to crawl through on his hands and knees. Once through, he was able to stand up. He was in a small clearing, completely surrounded by bushes. The canopy of leaves above them allowed just enough light in to see by.
Drum headed towards the edge of the clearing and began scrabbling in the dense carpet of fallen leaves, twigs and general debris. He grasped something, pulled, and revealed a trap door.
Alex approached the door and stared down into a dark hole. Makeshift steps sloped down into the darkness. Drum made his way down three or four of the steps and lit a small oil lamp in a recess in the left-hand wall. It gave off a friendly glow and shadows danced on the walls as the flame flickered.
Drum looked up, his face bathed in the yellow glow of the lamp.
‘Come on,’ he said, and started down the steps, with Hogarth close behind.
Alex followed. The walls either side of the steps came to an abrupt end and gave way to an underground chamber. Alex could make out the shapes of various objects, but not too clearly as the light from the single oil lamp was insufficient.
Drum made his way around the edge of the cavern, lighting more lamps. Alex was briefly startled by the roots of trees that poked grotesquely through the ceiling of rock and earth. The roots cast snake-like shadows in the flickering lantern lights. The flickering was caused by a faint movement of cool air which Alex could feel wafting gently in his face.
A movement of air, no matter how slight, meant that the cavern was not completely sealed. Alex wondered where the breeze was coming from and then saw, at the opposite end to where he stood, several narrow fissures in the wall. They stretched from floor to ceiling, twisting randomly, left and right.
The oil lanterns nearest the fissures were flickering more rapidly than the others, which confirmed to Alex that the gaps were probably the source of air movement within the cavern. With the trap door still open, a through draught was also created.
‘Shut the trap door Alex,’ said Drum. ‘We don't want to risk anyone outside seeing the light from these oil lamps.’
Alex ascended the steps quickly and did as he was asked. The breeze stopped almost completely and, descending again he was finally able to concentrate on the contents of the chamber. What he saw left him somewhat bemused. Some of the objects were recognisable, but many were not; not to him anyway.
He first noticed a cannon mounted on a sturdy wooden platform. It was mounted on a set of wheels with a pile of cannonballs stacked on each side. A ramrod lay a little apart from one of the piles.
‘They're from the days of pirates on the high seas,’ explained Drum, when he saw Alex looking. ‘This particular cannon is not from a ship though. It's actually a land-based artillery piece. From a fort to be exact. From your realm of course.’
Alex said nothing. He saw statuettes of bronze, gold and silver. A large grandfather clock stood against the wall behind him. There were carved wooden chests of origin unknown, musical instruments, including a very antique looking harp, mechanical devices, paintings and sparkling jewels. This was not just an archive but a veritable treasure trove.
Further along there was a collection of items Alex did not recognise. A crescent-shaped screen, built into the top of a crescent-shaped desk, was the largest of these items. The top of the desk appeared to be made of glass, with an array of what looked like keyboards, with all the symbols and characters one would expect on a computer, etched into it.
Alex eventually found his voice again. ‘Where did you get all this?’ he asked.
‘From my various visits to other places,’ replied Drum.
‘Meaning other time zones and dimensions, no doubt.’
Drum nodded. ‘That screen you seem so fascinated by is what your future personal computers will look like; and not the too distant future either.’
Alex stared in disbelief. ‘It looks powerful,’ he remarked.
‘It certainly is,’ agreed Drum. ‘We're talking three-dimensional viewing projection, unbelievable computing speed and thousands of gigabytes of memory.’
‘Why do you collect all these things?’
‘It's just a hobby really,’ replied Drum. ‘A kind of physical record of all the places I’ve visited. My personal museum, so to speak.’
‘Some museum,’ retorted Alex. ‘This lot would be worth a fortune where I come from.’
Drum smiled. He moved back towards where the cannon stood and fetched out an object that, up to now, had been hidden.
‘This,’ he said proudly, ‘Is my very first artefact from my very first experience as a traveller to another realm. It’s the reason I’m called what I’m called.’
Alex found himself staring at a magnificent drum which his host seemed to struggle to carry. It was blue with red and gold tassels hanging from gilt edges that formed the top and bottom perimeters of the instrument. A golden pattern of crossed rifles with fixed bayonets was embossed on the blue background.
‘I was experimenting with time travel when I
found myself at the site of a battle, at the time of your realm’s American Civil War. I was fortunate in that there was a lull in the fighting. A company of Union soldiers were resting and cleaning their equipment. They were infantrymen, riflemen to be precise, judging by the pattern on the drum. They were sitting at the edge of a copse, in the shade, in a large field. Not far from them was a large haystack and I quickly landed behind that to remain out of their view. What I hadn’t seen was their drummer boy, a lad of no more than seventeen or eighteen, approaching. He came waltzing round the haystack carrying this magnificent instrument, just as I popped into view.’
Drum had to stop speaking, finding it obviously difficult not to break out into a fit of laughter. Hogarth too was grinning from ear to ear. No doubt he’d heard the story before, but still found it immensely amusing.
‘Well,’ continued Drum, ‘The look on the lad's face was an absolute picture when he saw me. I've never seen an expression like it and doubt if I ever will again. He was so astonished he just dumped the drum and ran. When he disappeared round the haystack I could hear him yelling at the top of his lungs to his comrades.’
Drum looked at the floor, his face more serious.
‘I don't know why I did it, perhaps I shouldn't have, but I just grabbed the drum, threw my powder in the air and made a hasty retreat back to my own time. That's how my collection started.’
‘And so you were nicknamed Drum,’ remarked Alex.
Drum nodded. ‘Yes, my real name is Tandil.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘It was the first time anything had been brought back from another realm and it caused problems. I happen to be a direct descendant of Shanglo,’ he announced. ‘He was my great great great grandfather. I have a lot to live up to, but unfortunately I am not a scientist; just a traveller.’
‘A master traveller,’ said Alex.
His remark had the effect of restoring Drum's usual smile. ‘Yes I suppose so. Shirrac says I have the makings of the greatest Realm traveller of all. Realm travel is my forte, whereas science was Shanglo’s. I don't think that he ever did any more than very basic time hopping. As Shirrac says, we can’t all be great in the same way.’
‘I agree,’ said Alex. He thought for a moment. ‘Do you mind if I carry on calling you Drum? I've got kind of used to it.’
Drum smiled. ‘Not at all.’
At this point in the conversation Hogarth interrupted them.
‘Sssh, I can hear something.’
The three companions fell silent and, with heads cocked, listened intently. Sure enough, a faint rumble could be heard from the far wall. ‘That noise is coming through those narrow gaps in the wall,’ observed Drum. ‘I've always suspected that this chamber is a disused Sand Dweller bunker. I'll bet they’re the ones making the noise. They sound far enough away but I think we'd better get out of here, can't risk them hearing us or seeing the light from our oil lamps through those cracks in the wall.’
Alex and Hogarth quickly agreed and the three of them made preparations to leave. Hogarth and Alex opened the trap door and Drum began snuffing out the lanterns.
‘I hope this doesn't mean we have to start looking for a safer place for the artefacts. That would be most tiresome,’ said Drum as they clambered up the steps.
Chapter Five
A Sand Dweller Ally
Once back in the clearing and with the trap door firmly closed
on the archives and re-hidden with earth and leaves, Drum suggested they make a hasty return to the village. ‘We’d better get going quickly; I want to know what Shirrac has planned.’
The three of them started back to the banquet area. Drum led the way, but on a different path to the one they’d used previously.
‘I’m taking another route back,’ he explained, ‘because I don’t want to fall into a routine that would allow anyone to predict our movements.’
‘Very wise,’ agreed Alex.
They carried on walking in silence, the path twisting and turning, like the one before, in a very dense part of the forest. The canopy of leaves was so thick that it blotted out most of the light. The eerie gloom that this created sent a shiver down Alex’s spine, particularly as there wasn’t a sound to be heard; no birds, no insects, only the cracking of twigs as they marched along the path. He wondered if this was an indication of the presence of Sand Dwellers.
After about ten or fifteen minutes the forest became less dense and it began to get lighter again. Hogarth stopped suddenly. ‘Ssh!’ He said. ‘Can you hear that? It sounds like someone crying.’
They all stopped in their tracks and listened. Sure enough the faint sound of sobbing could be heard.
‘It’s coming from ahead of us,’ said Drum. ‘There’s a clearing coming up and I think someone’s there. We’d better approach very carefully.’
They began to walk very slowly towards the sound, finally coming to the edge of the clearing Drum had mentioned. The bushes at this point were still reasonably dense and the trio, crouching as low as possible to remain under cover, peered furtively through suitable gaps to try and catch a glimpse of whoever or whatever was making the noise. They saw nothing at first except bright sunlight streaming in on the open ground. Then, suddenly, Drum raised his arm.
‘There he is, on the far side of the clearing, sitting on a log. My goodness,’ he whispered, with a sharp intake of breath. ‘It’s a Sand Dweller.’
Alex raised his head as far as he dared and looked into the clearing. There, on a log with its back to them, sat one of the hairy creatures that had attacked the banquet area. Its head was down and the shoulders heaved in a fit of uncontrollable sobbing.
Just then, Hogarth, who had been craning his neck around the bushes to get a better view, lost his balance; in so doing he inadvertently stepped on a twig which made a loud cracking noise; disproportionately loud, it seemed.
The sobbing stopped immediately and the Sand Dweller stood up with surprising speed and whirled round.
‘Who . . . who there?’ It spluttered. ‘Who there?’ it repeated, its deep voice becoming more demanding.
The creature was only about seven metres away and Alex could see it clearly. It wasn’t particularly fearsome-looking, but it was big; very big. The fact that it had been crying now seemed impossibly ludicrous to Alex. There was also something vaguely familiar about it, Alex thought. It stood over two metres tall and was covered with long, thick brown hair from head to foot, except for the face, which was completely clear. The hands and feet had only sparse patches of slightly darker hair. They were huge and seemed out of proportion to the rest of the creature, despite its height. It stood perfectly upright and its arms appeared long and gangly. It then occurred to Alex that the giant now standing before them was a perfect match for the descriptions of the legendary "Bigfoot" in his world.
‘We’d better make a run for it,’ said Hogarth desperately.
Drum nodded his head vigorously. ‘Agreed.’
The pair of them were about to take flight when Alex stood up in full view of the Sand Dweller.
‘Don’t be so hasty,’ he said to his two companions. ‘The creature is obviously distressed and he doesn’t appear to have any weapons. You two stay hidden while I talk to it, I’m curious.’
Drum and Hogarth stared at Alex in disbelief as he stepped out into the clearing.
To Alex’s surprise, the Sand Dweller shuffled back a couple of paces.
‘Who . . . what . . . you are . . . ’ The creature spluttered. It began to move slowly and cautiously closer until it was only a couple of metres away. ‘I never see of you the like.’
Alex didn't back off. For some reason he didn't feel there was any threat to worry about. He turned to Hogarth and Drum.
‘He seems more afraid of me than we are of him.’
He turned back to face the giant. ‘My name is Alex. Who are you?’
The Sand Dweller didn’t reply straight away but after a few moments asked, ‘Who with you?’
‘My friends,’ replied Alex.
‘You ask them please to come out,’ said the Sand Dweller. ‘I mean not harm anyone, but feel better if all of you I see.’
Alex had to listen carefully to the creature. The way its words were strung together wasn’t exactly the norm. He turned to his friends once more. ‘Come on out you two, I think we’re safe.’
‘You are you are!’ The Sand Dweller sounded indignant. ‘I tell you, I mean not harm.’
After a great deal of whispering, rustling of leaves and general discussion from behind the bushes, Hogarth and Drum stepped gingerly into the clearing. They stood behind Alex and stared up at the giant apprehensively.
The Sand Dweller stared back with large brown eyes. His features were leathery with a short blunt nose, but the expression was one of kindness albeit a little sorrowful. ‘Me think right,’ he said at length. ‘Kigaali!’
‘Kigaali?’ said Alex.
‘Yes, in my language it mean of small people. Me am from big people; Koogaali. They Kigaali.’
The Sand Dweller paused and looked at Alex. ‘But you not either, you are not Kigaali and definitely not being of big people. I have never seen of you before.’
‘Never mind that,’ interrupted Alex. What fear he’d had was fast disappearing and he was growing impatient. ‘Who are you?’
‘My name Boris,’ was the matter of fact reply.
Alex couldn’t help but smile. Once again he was expecting a completely unpronounceable name, just as he had when he’d first met Hogarth.
He was not alone; he heard Hogarth stifle a chuckle and then whisper, ‘He looks more like a Yemsangipoon to me.’
‘Keep quiet and stop making up ridiculous names,’ Alex heard Drum whisper back.
Alex returned his attention to the Sand Dweller. ‘Well Boris, these are my friends, Hogarth and Drum.’
Boris’s deep voice suddenly boomed out in a fit of laughter. ‘Drum,’ he chortled. ‘What kind of name that?’ He laughed again but more quietly. ‘And you are thinking my name amusing.’
Sorry about that,’ said Alex, ‘but it was completely unexpected. Anyway what are you doing here? We saw you were very upset at something, so I decided to talk to you.’