"Arch-shaman, two shamans, and three soldjas," Logan sheathed her sword, "and two victims for the stewing."
"And the acorns, where are they?" asked Achtisanor.
"Aco… what?" asked the soldja.
"The golden acorns, where are they?" said Achtisanor.
"Ah, the gold…" smiled the soldja, "no rat! Why do I have to tell you?"
"Logan," said Achtisanor and winked to Logan, who drew her sword again.
"Let's see you," said the soldja. "They are going to kill me anyway if I tell you. Besides, only the arch-shaman know where they are."
"Come on, let's go," said Achtisanor, "we'll find them."
"What about him?" asked Fitz.
"Yeah, what about me?" asked the soldja.
"Good night," said Achtisanor and winked to Krunch.
"Close your eyes without hesitation, just like a bear into hibernation!" Krunch lifted his two hands to the sky and then pointed them to the soldja, who looked already sleepy.
"Sai, do you have the colour box?" asked Logan.
"Yes, it is in my pocket, why?" replied Sai.
Chapter 14 - Mistaken Identity
"Ready?" asked Achtisanor.
The torch in Krunch's hand flickered in the wan light and made their shadows tremble. De-Stik bald head was painted in black and a long red line was drawn from the top of his head to his chin. Krunch's face was painted in dark brown and two white fangs were painted on his lips; he looked like a horrible midget vampire. The squibs wore fur that they took from one of the soldjas, and tied black handkerchiefs on their noses – to lessen the fur's stench and to hide their faces.
Logan painted her hands, face, and hair in grey. She tied her black wool blanket on her armour and covered the oak sign emblazoned on it.
Achtisanor ripped a black ribbon from his cape, punched holes in it, and tied it around his face; only his eyes were seen. He lifted his hood and hid his long ponytail in it.
"Well, well," De-Stik looked at the painted companions, "if I had not known that you are my friends, I would have been sure you were spawned in hell."
"You look like some demon yourself, you black pate," smiled Krunch.
"How do I look?" asked Logan.
"Like a stone," said Achtisanor, using the nickname for a grey elf.
Fitz and Sai looked around excitedly.
"Do you remember the names?" asked Achtisanor.
"Arch-shaman Sin," said Logan.
"Shamans Krissum and Tessus," added Krunch.
"And the soldjas?" asked Achtisanor.
"Gringo, Simiko…" said Fitz.
"And Krump," finished Sai.
"Then let's go," ordered Achtisanor, "and I remind you all, be bad."
"We are bad," replied Sai and started to walk back to the clearing.
"Very bad," said Fitz.
"The kings of evil," said Krunch.
They crossed the clearing and reached the mine's entrance between the rocks. Krunch extinguished his torch. A light flickered inside the path that led into the hill. The companions marched inside, Achtisanor leading them on.
It was clear that soldjas built this cave. The corridor was long and wide, and his walls were rough-hewn. They heard snores from ahead. Logan approached and peeked.
"The snores come from the room to the right," she whispered and jumped to the room entrance. Then the corridor turned to the right. Achtisanor waited at the turning point and waited for a sign. Logan motioned him to approach slowly and quietly. The party passed the room. Two soldjas slept on the floor and snored. Their swords were lying under their hands, and their shields were used as pillows.
The six companions continued to walk inside the twisting corridor, looking around them with worry. After a few dozen meters, a yawning and lit room opened, smelling like smoke and burnt meat. When they approached it, they saw another opening to the right. In the left corner, a fire was lit in a makeshift fireplace made of stones and galvanized grill. Bone remains were scattered around it and a blacken poker was set above it. At the ceiling of the high room, exactly above the fireplace, a large crevice was open and showed the black sky. To the right of the fireplace a closed wooden door was situated, and they hear the sound of clanking dishes from beyond it. In front of them was a small steel door locked with a large lock.
"The kitchen," whispered Logan, and at that moment, the wooden door opened. It revealed a soldja wearing a white apron, holding a spice rack.
Achtisanor, Logan, and De-Stik drew their weapons and stood in a row in front of him.
The soldja yelped and dropped the spice rack. A small peppered cloud rose from it. The soldja looked ahead, and without hesitation, he fell on his knees and put his head against the floor.
"I ask humbly' your dark majesty, to ach…" the soldja held his nose and looked at Logan, "the spices… achoooo!" His loud sneeze echoed between the walls and afterwards some disgusting grunting was heard from him.
"Bless you," said Fitz and Sai and closed their mouth immediately when they noticed De-Stik frown.
Logan looked to Achtisanor, and he motioned her to talk to the soldja.
"Aah," she cleared her throat, "rise!" she said in her deepest voice.
"Yes, yes, your blackness…" muttered the soldja and rose to his feet. "Simiko did not know you will arrive. If I had known, I would have make preparations. I have kitchen duty. Today there is a big surprise," he smiled. "I am going to tell the arch-shaman that you are here. He will be glad. I will be right back, his most evil Narook, the foul of the foulest." The soldja bowed six times and stepped back to the right-hand corridor, turned and ran away.
"Narook?" whispered Logan.
"He is a relative of Hubris," said Achtisanor, "it is interesting, you look like a grey elf, but why did the soldja think you are Narook?"
"I guess he never saw Narook," said Logan, "and when he saw me, he thought I was – him. It is strange. Maybe he is due to arrive today?"
"It is good he didn't thought you are Hubris," said Krunch. "If I were you, I would have been offended."
"Let's also hope that the shamans never saw him before," said De-Stik. "Otherwise we might be shown the door."
"We'll keep playing the parts," said Achtisanor. "Be as evil as you can, or even more so, Narook," he smiled at Logan. "Try to think on things that annoy you the most. And you," he turned to Krunch, Fitz and Sai, "do not make a mistake, be quiet and obey all that Logan says."
"Yes his darkness, the foul of the foulest," the three of them bowed to Logan and tried not to burst out laughing.
"They are coming," whispered Achtisanor. The party turned towards the corridor, and four figures approached them.
"Oh, the honourable Narook!" said the leader with joy, "My Deepfire prince and the greatest of the Ashman's disciples, welcome to the cave, you arrived just in time."
The speaker wore a red priest garb adorned with black symbols, which looked like Lucifer letters, in which the Ashman writing of the elder days was written. He wore a tall black hat on his head, his moustache long and his beard was narrow. His two companions were dressed like him, but their bald pates were covered in black skullcaps. The soldja, Simiko, stood behind them.
One of the shamans noticed the spice rack on the floor and looked angrily at the soldja. Simiko leaped from his place, took the rack and returned it to the kitchen, bowing all the way there.
The arch-shaman looked at Logan and started speaking. The companions thought that his speech sounded like indecipherable whisperings. The three evil priests bowed to Logan. The companions did not understand the Ashman language, in which the arch-shaman used. Their worried eyes sought the confused Logan, who stood in her place, closed her eyes and stayed silent for a long minute. After the prolonged silence, the arch-shaman lifted his head and hesitantly murmured some unintelligible words.
"His holiness, Sin," said Logan in a low voice, "Krissum and Tessus, our loyal servants."
Logan's friends were astounded. Logan talked in the same whispering l
anguage. The arch-shamans lifted their heads, beaming with pride. Such accolades were not known to be uttered from the demonic race of stones.
"You, honoured ones," continued Logan in the whispering tongue, "have managed to send to high heavens and to the gods dimensions…" The three priests looked satisfied from the compliments. "...all the rage and hate that burns in my vein!!!" thundered Logan's voice in a tone that her friends had never heard before, a deep and gravelly one. Any trace of a smile disappeared from her face.
The dark priests grew pale, and so everyone else.
"How did …" muttered Krunch, but De-Stik slapped him on the head to silence him.
"M…M…Master Narook, why are you angry?" muttered the arch-shaman.
"Why am I angry?" asked Logan. "Go to the cave's entrance and see why I am angry!"
The arch-shaman and the other priests looked at one another. Where are the guards?"
"Are… they not there?" wondered the arch-shaman.
"Are you trying to mock me?!" admonished Logan.
"No, of course not, lord of the bloodrock," muttered the arch-shaman and nodded to one of the shamans to check to cave's entrance.
"While our loyal Tessus examines it," said the arch-shaman, "let us return to the dining room. The midnight meal will be ready soon, and you have come just in time to join us for the main course." He smiled a scary grin and continued to walk down the corridor, the shaman Krissum walked beside him. The party followed them, headed by Logan.
"How do you know this language?" asked Achtisanor.
"I don't know," answered Logan, looking distracted.
The corridor ended with a big and ornate room. Thick carpets covered his floor. In the centre of the room was a large rectangular table, and on it was spread a red and black cloth. At the head of the table was a large and red velvet-cushioned chair, and beside it were two more chairs, less majestic, cushioned with black velvet. The rest of the chairs were old and rickety. In one of the corners, there was a little shrine, lit with a dozen black wax candles. A picture of a black dragon hung on it and beside it was the picture of the evil and grinning image of Hubris. Several pillows were thrown on the floor around a small cauldron, which was spattered with dry blood. To the right of the opening, there was a small cage with dozens of rabbits, all of them trying to escape. They sniffed and searched for food scraps at the bottom of the cage.
"Sin, what is the main course?" asked Logan in the dark language, sat purposefully on the adorned chair and motioned to Achtisanor and De-Stik to sit beside her on the black chairs. Krunch and the squibs gathered some cushions from the shrine and used them on other chairs around the table.
"I would have told if I knew, your honour," replied the arch-shaman and sat on one of the rickety wooden chairs beside the shaman Krissum, still keeping silent, "Simiko says it is a delight that they found in the forest," he smiled.
Logan looked at him disapprovingly and clutched her black blanket that covered her body.
"Your highness, high Narook," the arch-shaman turned to Logan, "I believe you have arrived early because of the good news."
"Yes…" said Logan without understanding his words, "this was one of the reasons."
"I must say our soldjas have done a good job. I did not believe that they will find it so soon."
"Hmmm…" murmured Logan, still speechless. Her friends, each one of them interprets the arch-shaman sentence in a different way, looked at her expectantly.
"Gaist's sword! Who would have believed it?" continued the arch-shaman. “To tell you the truth, your honour, I don't know if this discovery is for our benefit."
"Do not question or decisions. It is important to us," said Logan.
"Oh… I never, your honour, never, only… what else brought you here?" the arch-shaman changed the subject.
"The gold ones," answered Logan, "the matter is more pressing that we have first conceived."
"Oh, the gold ones," nodded the arch-shaman, understanding, "of course."
Steps were heard from the corridor. It was the shaman Tessus, returning from the cave entrance. When he entered the room, he bowed to the arch-shaman and whispered in his ear. The companions looked at them.
"It is understood, then," announced the arch-shaman after Tessus bowed and left the room, "ten soldjas went to scout in the forest about an hour ago, including the entrance guard. I will punish him myself when he returns. Gringo, one of the soldjas sleeping in the guard room, is guarding now the entrance. Tessus and Krump have gone to search around. I hope it pleases his wickedness."
At the same moment, Simiko entered the room. He held nine large plates in his hand and he started to put them on the table.
"Simiko!" Logan turned to him.
"M…M...Master," Simiko fell immediately on his knees and hid his head between his hands.
"What is the main course?" asked Logan using the common tongue for her friends' benefit.
"S…spies," Simiko lifted his head and smiled.
"Spies?" repeated Logan.
"Y...yes, spies, your evilness," Simiko rose to his feet and bellowed his chest. "I cook a very delicious traitor's dish of them, squib meat in lard, and roasted Carpaccio Elven in rabbits jam. These are good dishes, I cook very good. They are roasted in a little while."
De-Stik looked towards Achtisanor.
"Don't you think you are forgetting something?" asked Logan.
"What… ah… yes, no, forgetting?" said the soldja, shaking with fear. "You want another sauce?"
"No, you fool!" admonished Logan. "You must interrogate the spies before you cook them."
"Narook is right, you fool. Bring them here," said the arch-shaman.
"Yes, his holiness, I am sorry. Simiko is a dog. I thought… I bring them now. I am such a dog…" Simiko turned and ran to fetch the prisoners.
"You," Logan pointed to De-Stik, "go with him."
De-Stik stood obediently and followed the soldja.
"So, where are they?" Logan asked the arch-shaman, returning to the whispering tongue.
"As I have said, your honour, the soldjas went to scout in the forest," answered the arch-shaman.
"Not them. The gold ones!" said Logan.
"Ah… yes… the gold ones," said the arch-shaman. "They are in the treasure room, inside my little chest."
Chapter 15 - The Treasure
De-Stik followed Simiko to the kitchen. Occasionally, the frightened Simiko looked around to look at his companion. "Here," he opened the wooden door, "in the kitchen. Come, follow me."
De-Stik looked at the small steel door to his right and saw a little sign above the big lock, on which 'Don't Upen!' was engraved in big letters.
The soldja opened the door and entered inside, De-Stik followed him. The kitchen was small, cramped and had the smell of rotten meat. The floor was stained with oil, mud, feathers and fur. All along the wall was a shelf holding pans, pots, and other tools. Inside the makeshift fireplace, a large cauldron bubbled.
"Here," pointed the soldja towards a large cage hanging from the ceiling. Inside the cage lay Dunlop and Serdamus, their eyes covered, hands and feet bound. Their hair was tangled and faces dirty. On the floor beneath the cage was a smaller cage, from which the tail of a boar emerged.
"We caught them in the forest, the spies," the soldja went to the corner of the room to lower the cage.
De-Stik looked around, and took a large pan from the shelf and hid it behind his back. Simiko loosened the rope and the cage was lowered slowly.
"The wicked Narook wants to see you, spies," said the soldja in an evil tone, "and after that I will cook you for the main course."
The soldja opened the cage and pulled out the confused Dunlop and Serdamus.
"I have told a hundred times, sir." The blindfolded Dunlop said, "We are not spies. We are journalists of the newspaper 'Notizia'. We have press credentials. You can't do this to us. We have rights, based on the 'preview' agreement."
"Ha ha… I don't care about Nitizia and papers," said th
e soldja, "you are spies and Narook wants to see you."
"I said… Narook?" muttered Dunlop.
"Narook?" murmured Serdamus.
"Yes, yes! Narook, get on your feet!" the soldja shouted and untied their feet.
"Great," said Serdamus when the soldja lifted his blindfold, "I wanna talk to him. He pr'bably knows that press people gave rights, ye know. I'll get ye punished all the way for this treatment, not letting us do our job and all."
Dunlop and Serdamus blinked and stood on weary feet.
"Go on," said De-Stik from behind the soldja, "move along, so we don't need to be strong."
"Ah…" said Dunlop surprised. "I know that voice..." he tried to look behind the soldja's back.
"It sounded like…" Serdamus said.
"Just like…" wondered Dunlop.
Simiko looked at them both, then at De-Stik, again on the two… and suddenly a large pan hit him on the back of his head.
The soldja stood transfixed, as if he did not feel the heavy smack. He turned towards De-Stik, sill holding the large pan. De-Stik hit him again, this time right in the face.
Simiko eyes rolled and his head wobbled a little. "I am such a dog…" he muttered and fell unconscious to the floor. De-Stik smiled to the stunned Dunlop and Serdamus.
"Come on," De-Stik unbounded the two of them, "don't just stand about, tie quickly this lout."
"The troubadour De-St… Eh, De-Fontain Fantastick, you saved us," Dunlop jumped in excitement and hurried to hug De-Stik, but changed his mind after he saw his frown. "But, Dunlop," said the little Serdamus from the rear, "shouldn't De-Fontain Fantastick be a little more, whatchacallit? Whiter?"
"Yes, silly boy, he wears makeup," answered Dunlop.
"And just any makeup we chose," said De-Stik with a smile. "Mister painter, we used yours."
Dunlop and Serdamus tied the unconscious soldja with the ropes that bound them just a minute ago.
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