“Let’s get to work then, Cap,” Grannie said. “Me an’ Mary ‘ere will assist you on putting together them dummies. We’ll need to conjure up some look-alike clothes an’ put a spell on ‘em so they holds tergether no matter what’s thrown at ‘em. It can get pretty rough sittin’ up there on ol’ Jerry’s back yer know!” she finished, rubbing her behind.
Jericho, who was curled up nearby, still in his Sabre-tooth form, just yawned and stretched his talon-laden paws, looking for all the world like nothing more than a very overgrown tabby cat.
“What do me and Regor do then?” Roger asked a bit petulantly.
“Well, as our only male Knight Irritant, you and our young, unhatched Princeling should grab a few hours’ sleep. We’ll need our men well rested for the battles ahead,” Grannie smiled.
CHAPTER 9:
UNDER THE VOLCANO.
Roger woke in the early hours with Regor softly piping into his head, “Wakey, wakey, Wodger. It’s times wees gets up an gets off now.”
He rubbed his eyes and peered through the Cathedral-like gloom of the Parliament Tree’s underground basement towards Nimp’s pallet bed, but it was empty. Nimp was recovering well and had already joined Gran, Mary and Captain Caprinus by the camp fire outside the tree.
“Right you are, your Lordship,” he telepathed back and stretched and yawned. Then grabbing up his ruck-sack, wherein Regor’s Egg lay, he went outside and joined them himself.
Outside he saw that the giant old oak tree, a blackened relic of what it had once been, was now ringed round with several blazing camp fires, each manned by Hircumen, warming themselves in the pre-dawn chill. At the nearest campfire sat Grannie and Mary with Captain Caprinus and his trusty lieutenants.
Gran was looking quite pleased with herself and as Roger approached them, she called out to him with a big grin on her face. “Well, good mornin’, Sir Roger, wee’s are very pleased ter see yers, an very timely too. We’ve just about done what we needs ter do ‘ere,” then, turning towards a large animal hidden in the shadows behind her, she asked him, “So tell us then, what do yer think, Master Roger? Think this’ll fool the Humdrums then?”
Roger gave a quick gasp of surprise as he stepped closer and saw the object of Granny’s pride. There, a little distance away, sat upright on Jericho the Sabre-toothed Tiger’s back, were three life-size, and very life-like models, of Gran, Mary and himself.
“By Einstein’s hairy Eyebrows,” exclaimed Roger, “they look just like us!”
“That they certainly does fer sure,” Gran beamed, “but I juss needs to cast a spell ter make ‘em stick ter Jericho’s back no matter what. There’s gonna be a lot of hollerin’ an’ hoofin’ at high speed very soon now, me dearie.”
With that she rummaged about in her oversized handbag and pulled out a brown bag with a label on it stating, “Stay Putty.” She then beckoned Jericho over and pulled out a dollop of a brown paste-like substance. Then lifting each manikin up, she smeared its bottom with the magic putty. “There that’ll make ‘em stay put,” she smiled and returned to her seat.
Captain Caprinus now came to the fore, standing tall over Roger and Mary. “It is time,” he said. “I have assigned two of my most skilful hunters to accompany you in your journey beneath the volcano. Let me introduce you to them. They are called Yllib and Taog, two brothers and both very adept climbers, well-practiced in the arts of the rope and the bow.”
Yllib and Taog stepped forward, dipping their goat-horned head’s in their race’s way of greeting. “Very pleased to meet you,” they said, in unison.
“Very pleased to meet you too,” Roger politely replied.
Mary though was struck dumb. Her face was turning red and she felt a wave of embarrassment sweep over her as she realized that they’d seen these two Hircumen before.
“They’re the brothers that nearly discovered us by the banks of the Quaggy,” Mary whispered to Roger. “And one of them had a wee, right above me! Do you remember, Roj?”
“Of course I remember,” Roger answered. “Well, they’re all decent and presentable now, aren’t they, so just bow back and pretend it never happened.”
Mary pulled herself together and did as suggested and then Caprinus continued, “The Illustrious Company of the Dragon’s Egg is now assembled and ready, I believe. We have a most wonderful Witch and two extraordinary Humdr … er, excuse me, Humans, accompanying the Royal Egg, along with a remarkable Night Imp and two intrepid Hircumen. I suggest you leave immediately. The rest of us have to quietly make our way south and west, down the hillside and then to noisily break cover, racing parallel to the north bank of the river Quaggy, just as the sun rises. By doing so, we will ensure the enemy catch sight of us and most importantly, of your decoys sat upon Jericho’s back. We have planned this so that when the sun rises, in a few minutes time, they’ll see us but at a time when their vision is at its least acute.”
Gran stood up and took Roger and Mary by the hand, one on each side of her. “Agreedy indeedy, Captain. Come on then, you lot,” she called, “follow me, a witch in time saves a whine!”
“What on Erf does that mean?” whispered Roger.
“No idea!” Mary replied, shrugging her shoulders.
“Fare well!” Caprinus boomed, “and remember your oaths, Egg Bearers, and remember your true friends, always!” he added, as they made their way to the Owl’s Parliament-Tree once again.
As Roger entered the tunnel he could hear the muted thudding of many hooves cantering away. The courageous Captain Caprinus was now leading his wood-wise troop of Hircumen down the volcano’s slope, towards the camp of the awaiting Humdrum army.
The five adventurers made their way down the tree’s spiral stair into the gloomy, root basement. Nimp led the way, taking them to the entrance of the very same tunnel through which he had first found the Parliament-Tree. He now quickly explained, he intended taking them back the same way. This would eventually bring them to the vent that branched off from the volcano’s main, central shaft. They would then make their way down that side shaft into the heart of the volcano and then somehow make their way across the central shaft to the other side.
“Vee vill needz to all stickz clozely togevver. Although I am a Night Imp, I am not of ver deep and shadowless landz.; for it iz only ver Dark Imps who are used to zuch places; my realm, it iz that ov ver shadowy shades of ver woodz and for that vee needs zum light zumtimes. I far prefer ver places of ver night, and not ver darkness deeper than a tree’z rootz. My powerz vill fade awayz the deeper I goez. But I vinks vat I can still rememberz ver vway if I conzentrate.”
“Me can helpsh you with that!” piped up Regor, telepathing to them excitedly.
“Oh yes, of course,” Roger exclaimed, “Regor has a wonderful way with maps and finding his way around places, he naturally comes from the Under Erf realms, doesn’t he?”
“Very vell, vee now go to ver very dark and dangerous plazes under ver Volcano!” Nimp said. “Any help vee can get, it iz very velcomez.”
Regor, the unborn Dragon, now scanned Nimp’s mind and saw clearly the route that the Night Imp had taken before. He then reached out and probed into the volcano with his own mind. He strained to go as far as he possibly could. Although he beat his previous record when practicing this at the Manor House, he could still only manage a few hundred yards before his mind-vision darkened. But at least he had a clear layout of the map in the Night Imp’s mind.
“Never mind, Regor,” said Roger soothingly, “you’ll get better and better the more you practice, won’t you, and any clue as to what’s ahead is better than none.”
“That’s right, dearie,” murmured Grannie Maddam, “but I think we got to be real careful when we gets near to the centre coz that’s where the volcano’s main magma chamber’ll be; an’ there’s no knowin’ what sort o’ filthy monsters are lurking in that lake of lollipin’ lava, is there?”
The intrepid company made their way down the tunnel under the arch as indicated by the Night Im
p. Grannie Maddam handed out some Moonberries she’d had tied onto sticks to each and these now served as makeshift lanterns to lighten their way.
Right behind Nimp came Roger with Regor snugly egg-bound in his rucksack, then Mary followed with Gran right behind her, and then Yllib and Taog the two Hircumen bringing up the rear. Truth be told, the Under Erf was something even more fearful for these stalwart Goat Men than it was for most of the creatures of the surface, They reveled in high, rocky places on the surface, up on the crags and ridges of mountains and on the steep sides of wind-swept hills and moors. Not these dark and dismal dungeons of the deep and dangerous underground.
The tunnel continued level for a little while and then began to gradually climb, getting steadily steeper as they walked in single file along its gloomy confines. Strangely distorted shadows now flickered about them on the rocky walls, cast from their softly, glowing Moonberry Lanterns.
Soon though, the tunnel floor became too steep for them to walk along either easily or safely.
“I remember zis bit!” cried Nimp. “Don’t worryz, it flattenz out again in zee little vhile. Az I rememberz it ver tunnel went over ver cliffs, an’ zen flat at least vree or vour timez before it camez to ver roots of ver Owl’z Parliament-Tree.”
“Yesh, itsh alwight, evwybody. Mister Nimpsh is kwite wight,” Regor telepathed to them. “Look, I’ll show yoush all the map I can sees sose yoush can all sees it too!”
With that Regor mind-cast them all the map he’d been following, he’d held in his head from Nimp, so each member of the company now had the comfort of sharing it in their own heads. But now the party of explorers had to become climbers. The tunnel was so steep that it had to be climbed like a cliff for them to go any further. It went up for over thirty feet before tapering off.
Seeing this Yllib and Taog came to the fore. With their coils of rope they’d brought with them, they began to tether the group together into two parties. Yllib then started the climb, bringing Roger and Nimp along with him and then Toag followed, with Gran and Mary tethered to him.
Roger and Mary were in fact quite used to such places and arduous exertions from their previous adventures underground. Grannie Madden however was not at all used to such outdoor activities. Although a witch, she was after all an elderly lady too and for many years she’d preferred the quiet life, keeping herself to herself, free from the meddling officials of Humdrum bureaucracy. This had also meant minimizing her dealings with magic and magical folk, as she’d suppressed her natural ‘witchery’ instincts as best she could. It had been a great relief to at last let her true instincts run free again. But despite this, without the intervention of magical spells and daily, powerful potions, anything over-physical, on a sustained basis, was just too much for her.
Mary noticed that Gran was now wheezing as she fumbled her way up the rock face. Half way up Mary told Toag to let her rest a short while. While she did so, Gran took a quick sip out of a flask she had buried in her bosom. “Just a quick pick-me-up is all,” she said, smiling a bit guiltily.
Mary shook her head, “Now, now Gran, let’s not have you gettin’ over-medicated, again, OK?”
“Now don’t you’s be a fussing, dearie,” Gran answered. “I’ll be alright, it’s juss a nip!”
After a few more minutes scrabbling upwards in the dark, Yllib and Taog managed to get their respective burdens of Grannie and Mary and Roger and Nimp up onto the sloping brow of the cliff face. They then tied their ropes around a nearby stalagmite to ensure they stayed at the top.
Grannie was definitely feeling the physical hardship of their journey now and Mary repeatedly got the rest of the party to agree on a few moments rest and respite. Truth be told, both Roger and Mary herself, were quietly glad about the breaks. They were both sweaty, dirty and tired.
“How long before we get to the branch vent, do you reckon?” asked Roger of Nimp.
“Vell it vill be another two hourz of ver walking an ver climbing like viss an then vee vill be there, but after that vee enter ver unknown, az vee vill ven be in ver vent I vell down and vee vill be going down vis towards ver volcano’s main shaft an ver central magma chamber.”
“Holy Hoyle!” Roger exclaimed. “Oh yes, I see,” he said, now looking at the head-map Regor had got from Nimp and shared with them all. “I can see the vent branch above us, but then it all goes dark. I can see that vent angles back down toward the centre of the volcano, but then, nothing. It’s all black!”
“Exzactly!” Nimp replied. “I thinkz viss is really ver easy part of our journeyz here!”
Mary winced inwardly, hearing this. It wasn’t for herself she was worried, but for her poor old Gran. A powerful witch she might well be but even a witch couldn‘t survive just on magic alone. Mary knew that she would have to keep a very close eye on her Gran and do all she could to help her on the arduous journey ahead of them.
The predicted two hour’s journey easily stretched to three. This was mainly due to Mary insisting they all take regular breaks along the way; especially after climbing the further steep cliffs they encountered. The reason she always gave when calling for a break though, was for her still recuperating from her own injuries from the last time she’d adventured under Erf.
This was of course just a useful excuse to cover up her real motive, which was giving her Gran as much rest and respite as she possibly could.
“Well, we’re here at last, me dearies!” Gran exclaimed with a relieved wheeze as they eventually entered the key fumerole vent they’d been aiming for. It sloped downwards into the inky and unknown depths below. This was the limits of Nimp’s head-map. From here on, their only clue as to what lay ahead was whatever Regor’s Dragon sense could pick up for them.
“Yesss! Ant ver last time I vos here I don’t vish to remember!” hissed Nimp grimly.
“I can understand that,” Roger murmured softly, “still, we’re here now and we must press on and cross the inside of this blasted volcano no matter what.”
Roger could feel the warm current of air billowing past him as it made its way up the vent from the central magma-chamber. This vent was much larger than the one they’d so far followed. This was a major, fumerole vent that had erupted with the pressure of the boiling hot magma building up below. Roger knew that if they turned and clambered their way up it just a few hundred yards or so, then they would reach the surface again and be able to breathe night air and see the stars.
For a moment the temptation was strong for him to do just that, but he steadied himself for the much longer and more dangerous journey downwards, into the very bowels of the volcano.
“I think it’d be a good idea if we kept ourselves tied together from here on,” he said.
“Agreed,” Yllib answered, “and I will lead the way. Let’s all keep to the same order and keep close together. If the floor slants too steeply or becomes too rough, we will halt at once and investigate the best we can before going on, is that understood?”
They all agreed. The gradient downwards was at first quite gentle but then began to get steeper as they progressed, once again lighting their way by means of their Moonberry sticks. The vent floor was heavily scarred with jagged rills and ruts from where rocks had scoured their way as they were violently ejected when the volcano first erupted.
Roger could now taste the acrid smoke that was wafting up to them. He could also hear strange rumbling noises in the distant depths, as if the mountain itself was suffering from a bad case of stomach-ache. Roger well knew how the Erf could suddenly shake and erupt with terrific force.
He, along with Mary, had become quite expert on Erfquakes, and he prayed fervently to himself that they didn’t have to experience another one now.
They travelled steadily onwards down the sloping tunnel. This time there were fewer turns and no cliffs to climb at all. There were though, many deep cracks that had to be jumped over. It was Regor’s ability to look ahead, at least the distance he could that saved them many a bruising fall.
T
he Moonberries were becoming less needed too as they penetrated into the volcano’s heart. The fiery glow from the seething cauldron that bubbled and boiled beneath them seeped into the tunnel, creating a red, eerie gloom. As they walked on through this, their large and strangely twisting shadows stretched out on the walls behind them like giant phantoms. The air itself grew hot and was full of dust and sparks and the fumes and stench of sulphur made their eyes water.
“Well if there was ever a door to Hell, me dears, I thinks we’ve found it!” stated Gran.
At last they’d arrived at the main, central vent. They were now well and truly under the volcano.
Roger looked over the lip of rock that protruded for some feet into the great vertical throat of the volcano’s central shaft. It was indeed a sight drawn straight from the depths of Hell itself. His eyes were stinging and weeping from the fumes billowing about him and his face crinkled with the heat, blasting up from the boiling lake of magma he could see far below.
“Boyle my Roger Bacon!” he exclaimed. “Just how are we supposed to get across that then? It’s easily two-hundred yards wide and the nearest vent opposite is well below our level.”
Each member of the group was thinking the same thought. Yllib and Taog stood and frowned, both realizing the predicament they were all in, no matter their great climbing skills. Mary and Nimp came up and both bravely peered down into the fiery pit as well, one to each side of Roger.
Gran though took the opportunity to quietly sit down on a nearby rock and mop her face with a hanky and then have a quick nip from her flask.
Mary turned to Roger and whispered anxiously to him, “I don’t see how Gran’s going to get across, Roj. We’ll need magic or a miracle for her to make it all the way to the other side the state she’s in, even if we had a bridge and a road all the way from here. She’s really done in.”
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