by Kris Kramer
Chapter 4 - Duren Olan
Just before dusk on the fourth day of the trip, the party returned to the banks of the Mirken River, having finally crossed to the north end of the Cliffs. They approached the river cautiously, Iago having made them aware that travelers could be nearby setting up camp or refreshing water supplies before heading south in the mountains.
After confirming that the area was clear, Iago brought everyone down to the riverbank where they refilled their water skins, and snuck in a few minutes of rest while he scouted ahead again. Galen welcomed the respite. The party had traveled hard past the Cliffs, always moving carefully and deliberately, taking less used, more difficult routes. Galen was used to a tough life being in the Wind Riders, but the last two days had him still catching his breath.
Half an hour passed before Iago wandered back into the camp.
“We need to move. I found a place for us to stay tonight,” he said as he unpacked a canteen and a water bag.
Galen rose from his resting spot, making sure his pack was in order. “Are we finally past the mountains?”
“Aye. We’ll reach the foothills in the morning, then it’s two more days until we’re in the steppes.” Iago walked over to the river bank and filled his canteen. “Three days from now we’ll be in Tyr.”
Galen nodded, hoping to cover up the tinge of nervousness he felt. “Good, the sooner we do this the better.”
Hal threw his pack over his shoulder, smiling. “You sure we can’t just stay here tonight, Cap’n? Take a rest from all this walkin’?” Saalis chimed in with his agreement.
“No. It’s not safe here.” Iago didn’t even look up.
Hal turned to Saalis. “So much for restin’ my legs.”
Iago led the group northeast from the river, up a narrow, rocky trail and along the top of another sheer cliff face, although this one was only thirty feet high, instead of several hundred. They walked about half an hour along that ridge when Iago finally stopped and motioned the others to the edge. On the ground directly below them, carved out of stone into the side of the cliff, were seven man-made structures, buildings, each a single story except for the one in the middle, which was twice the height of the others. Each stood wide and rectangular, built with very hard and precise angles, and intricate circular designs were carved into the walls along the top, designs Galen didn’t recognize. They seemed too small to be houses, though, or any kind of useful building. Galen didn’t think he could stand upright in any of them save the center one, and only then if the first floor had no ceiling.
The buildings faced forward, across a wide, flat outcropping, punctuated by another structure, a tower, built away from the cliff wall, directly in front of the center building. The tower, which was roughly three or four times the height of the other buildings, and barely big enough around for a large person to fit inside, stood at the edge, overlooking the rolling hills to the north. At the top was a small, railed platform, a watchtower, which probably had a view for dozens of miles.
“What is this place?” Galen said, transfixed on the elegantly simple architecture. No, not simple. Practical.
“An old Happaran outpost,” replied Iago, “It’s called Duren Olan. But the Happs left it a long time ago.”
Galen nodded absently. Happarans were the original miners of the Lore Mountains and had numerous towns and outposts throughout the foothills, but the steady push of Anzarins to the south had driven the Happarans out. Galen had never met a Happaran before, and unfortunately he doubted he would see any in Tyr. From what he knew of them, Happarans preferred to avoid human settlements entirely.
Jonir studied the buildings. “Are they empty?”
"They are tonight."
Iago continued along the cliff face about forty more feet, where he stopped and crawled down over the edge. Galen came closer and saw that there were steps, like a slightly inclined ladder, carved into the rock and Iago used them to climb down to the buildings below. He followed, as did Jonir, Margis, Hal and Saalis, though Margis hesitated at the top of the ladder.
“What do you mean by ‘tonight’?” he asked. “Is it usually occupied?”
“Occasionally. Some of the more experienced trackers and patrols use this place sometimes. But trust me, as late as it is now, if there’s no one here, then no one will be here until late tomorrow. We can camp here tonight, out of the wind, and tomorrow morning we can use that watchtower to see anyone who may be headed up the river this way. You can see into tomorrow up there.”
Galen was not amused. “You brought us to an outpost used by Tyran guards and trackers? Do you mean for someone to just stumble upon us in the night?”
Iago shook his head. “No one is anywhere near us, Pilot. Any Tyrans in the area who know of this place would already be here. Anyone else coming this way is camped farther down the river.”
Galen pursed his lips. “I hope so.”
Iago led the group to the taller, center building and opened the thick wooden door. He led everyone inside, where Galen was actually able to confirm that he could not stand straight. The ceiling stopped about a hand’s width above his shoulders, forcing everyone to crouch as they walked around the room. Iago dropped his pack in a corner and moved to the back wall, kneeling and lifting up a grate in the wall that no one else could even see in the dark. He reached into the opening and smiled, motioning Galen over.
“Pilot, there’s wood in here. Maybe you can use some of your Fire Magics to get us some light.”
Galen knelt down next to Iago and peered in the opening. He could see the silhouette of something solid. He hoped it was wood. “Right in there?”
“Aye. It’s safe.”
Galen nodded and began to concentrate. He did not work on Fire Magic very often so he was happy to get a few chances for practice on this trip, even if all he did was start campfires. He closed his eyes and recited the Irahdan mantras in his head, over and over, until he felt the warm glow of the crystals around his neck. Once he had the mantras ingrained in his consciousness, he opened his eyes, focused on the objects in front of him, held out his hand, and… a warm light suddenly filled the room. The firewood crackled as it caught fire easily, and Iago closed the grate while Hal and Saalis clapped their hands, grateful for the heat.
The grate kept the light from the fire subdued enough to give the room a comfortable, yellowish-orange glow, rather than just light up all the corners as a fire would normally do. The room itself was bare, as any furnishings had long since been stolen or destroyed. The walls, though made of stone, were finished with a different material on the inside, perhaps chalk or some other softer material. There were no markings on the inside, like the ones carved into the outside walls, but Galen thought he could see a faint discoloration around the top of the room, where some decorations may have once been painted. A narrow stone staircase snaked up the side wall, left of the fireplace. It led towards the back of the room, to a wood hatch in the ceiling that covered the opening to the second floor, hinged at the side. The hatch was closed but Galen wondered if he should go up and check the top room, just to be safe.
Jonir crouched by the front windows, making doubly sure no one else had wandered by while they enjoyed some comforts. “You’ve been here before?” he asked Iago.
“A few times. This might be my fourth, if I remember right. There’s another Happ outpost east of here, east of the steppes even. I used to roam those lands a long time ago and I used that outpost a lot. That one was called Kolqan Olan I think.”
“How did you know about the wood in the fireplace?” asked Margis as he settled against the wall.
“It’s a custom of these outposts. When you use it for the night, you restock the wood the next morning before you leave, for the next visitor, or bad fortune will visit you.” Iago winked at Hal and smiled.
Saalis chuckled. Hal slapped him on the arm. “Don’t laugh at bad fortune. I know these hills have evil spirits in ‘em.”
“Don’t worry
about evil spirits, Hal,” Iago said, “we have cover from the wind and a fire to keep us warm. Now let’s eat and get some good sleep. The rest we get tonight has to last us three days.”
No one stayed up late. Everyone ate quickly and settled in to their blankets with a minimum of conversation. Galen stayed up slightly later than the rest, but only by a few minutes. Like Jonir, he was unable to rest easy without taking one last look out the window. Seeing nothing in the darkness except for the stars in the sky, Galen at last lay down and closed his eyes.