by Jenner, M
Something dug painfully into his chest, and he reached inside his jerkin. It was the medallion he had stolen from the giant. Slowly he pulled it from his pocket and studied it closely. The centre of the medallion had three crystals - blue, red, and green - with runes carved all around the rim. Turning it over, he saw that there were also delicate engravings covering the other side. Ty couldn’t make heads or tails of any of it, but he liked the look of it and thought it might be worth a gold coin or two. Glancing up, he saw Kern craning his neck to see what Ty was looking at, so he quickly slid the medallion back into his pocket.
“What’re you looking at?” Kern asked, still trying to see what it was Ty was inspecting.
“It’s a thank-you gift from your wife! She gave it to me when I left Leopard’s Town,” Ty quipped. The party all started laughing, except for Kern, who shook his head and trotted forward next to Solomon.
“Idiot. I haven’t even got a wife,” he said, which made Solomon chuckle all the more.
Chapter Seven: Deep Down
Bok and Joli looked down from the ridge at the town of Praise. “What are you thinking?” Joli asked, looking over at Bok.
“It stinks of Rat. He came this way.” He spurred his horse and trotted off towards the main gate; Joli caught up after a few moments and rode next to him.
Traders were leaving and arriving at the town in steady streams. “This is a busy little place,” Joli said, eyeing the traders. They reached a tavern called the Pig’s Tail, and tied the horses up outside. After ordering a jug of ale each and chatting for a while, Bok finally called the innkeeper over. “Excuse me, sir. I was supposed to meet three friends here, but for some reason they haven’t turned up. I don’t suppose you might have seen them?” Bok said, keeping his expression as honest as he could.
“Might have, what did these friends of yours look like?” the innkeeper replied suspiciously.
“One is a dwarf, one is a human, and the other is a small one. He has bright red hair that he wears up in a knot.”
“The only people like that that I know of are the group who slayed the giant, but there was five of them - the three you said, plus another two humans, one in robes and one looking like a paladin,” the innkeeper said.
“What do you mean, slayed a giant?” Joli interrupted.
The innkeeper told the story about the battle – though in his version the giant was bigger and the fight much longer. When he finished his talk, Bok thanked him with a silver coin and an order for another jug of ale. As the innkeeper moved away, Bok turned to Joli.
“It must be them. It’s way too much of a coincidence for two parties to be traveling south at the same time, with the same descriptions,” Bok said.
“He said there were five, though.”
“Maybe the other two were meeting them later, or maybe they picked them up on the way. But this is the only lead we have, so I say we carry on south. The guard told us they were heading towards Gateford Forest so even if it wasn’t them who slayed the giant, we may pick up a better trail down there,” Bok said, thinking out loud.
“Sounds good to me, Bok, but the stakes are higher now that there may be five.”
“Like I said, it may not be them anyway,” Bok said decisively. “Now get the ale in!” Bok said, banging his empty mug on the bar to get the innkeeper’s attention.
Solomon pointed to a pathway that led close to Gateford Forest, running east to west, parallel with the north end of the forest. He explained to the group that this was the path the King’s guards had been ambushed on. The ambush site was a bit further on, between a rocky outcrop to the north and Gateford to the south.
“I sense a strong presence of evil,” Nuran announced.
“You will do,” Solomon explained. “That forest is pure evil. Some of the stories about are legendary.”
Galandrik quipped, “It’s probably just Ty he can sense,” but the halfling ignored the comment.
Soon they reached the rocky outcrop. Just off the path they saw the wooden cart turned on its side, the King’s emblem still visible on the wooden slats now facing skywards. The two front wheels were completely smashed; otherwise the orcs would surely have taken it, Nuran thought.
Kern dismounted, squatted down and studied the ground.
“Maybe twenty orc prints, and half as many human prints. There was definitely a skirmish, but there’s been much traffic through here since then, so it’s hard to make out what exactly happened. Impossible for me to tell if the orcs went east, west, up or down,” Kern said, walking bent over and studying the ground.
“What way should we try then?” Nuran asked, lifting both hands in frustration.
“Southeast to the orc temple, where Finn said Queen Valla will be!” Galandrik suggested.
“Right. Because that won’t be too hard, will it?” Ty said, shaking his head.
“Well, they might help us decide,” Solomon announced. Everyone turned to look at him.
“What are you talking about, Sol?” Ty asked with a frown.
“Orcs!” Solomon said, pointing west.
There were at least twenty orcs thundering towards them. “There’s more over there!” Ty shouted, pointing towards the east, where another score of orcs were galloping in their direction.
“Get into the forest,” Kern shouted, kicking his mount into a gallop as the others followed him towards Gateford Forest.
“That place is evil,” Ty screamed from behind, trying to get Kern’s attention over the noise of the horses’ hooves.
“You’d rather fight?” Kern shouted back, turning his head.
“We could outrun them!”
“No chance, the forest is our only option!” Kern looked for an opening in the wall of trees.
“Over there!” Nuran shouted, pointing towards a path leading into the forest.
Solomon turned to look at the army of orcs behind them. “Quickly! They’re gaining on us!” he shouted. They spurred their mounts into one final sprint, just as arrows started to fly past their heads.
They were within twenty feet of the forest opening when an arrow struck Galandrik in the shoulder blade. He dropped the reins and fell forward with a shout. Nuran, seeing the arrow hit home, leaned over, grabbing the loose reins from the dwarf’s left side as Kern held Galandrik up from the right. “Hang on, Galandrik!” Kern shouted at the dwarf. They flew through the gap in the trees and crashed on, deeper into the forest, until they were sure no orcs had followed them. Slowing as they approached a small clearing, Solomon and Nuran supported Galandrik as Kern slowly eased him into their arms. They laid him on his side, and the group gathered around.
“How bad is it?” Ty asked, concerned.
“I don’t know yet; I’ll have to pull the arrow out and see. It doesn’t look like it’s struck anything nasty. It’s only in an inch or so,” Kern answered.
Galandrik’s eyes rolled and he looked pale. “He doesn’t look good, for such a shallow wound,” Nuran said. “I think it’s poisoned.”
“If it is, he’s in big trouble,” Kern sighed. “Right, hold him down and I’ll pull this bloody thing out.” Kern grabbed the shaft of the arrow as close to the wound as he could manage. The others knelt down and held the dwarves head, legs, and arms steady. “One… two… three!”
Kern ripped the arrow out and tossed it to the forest floor. Galandrik shuddered like a fish on a riverbank but they contained him well. Kern fumbled in his pack and pulled out the healing balm and bandages Conn had supplied. After rubbing the balm into the wound, Kern bandaged it the best he could. When they rolled Galandrik onto his back, his skin was deathly pale and his eyes had rolled back into his head, sweat beginning to drench his face and neck.
“What now?” Nuran said.
“We sit and wait,” Kern answered, looking Nuran in the eye.
“Wait? He’s drifting in and out. He’ll be dead within hours! What about taking him back to Praise?” Nuran urged.
“It’ll take a day to get back, at least, and
that’s if the ferry is there waiting to take us. We’ll have to literally carry him in. He’s in no shape to ride, and even if we tied him to his saddle, we’d have to guide his horse – and stopping him falling off would be nearly impossible.”
Nuran walked away, kicking a fallen branch off into the trees. Solomon sat with his back against a tree, holding his head in his hands.
“What about a spell, Sol?” Ty asked the guide.
“No good. I can heal wounds, but I can’t fight poison. Sorry. I wish I could help.”
Ty punched the ground, then rose and stalked off, shaking his head and muttering. He couldn’t bear to look back at Galandrik sweating and shaking, helpless on the ground.
Kern sat back and began tidying away the remaining pieces of bandage, tucking them into his open backpack. At the bottom of the pack, he spotted the wooden box. “Potion!” he shouted, lifting the box from the backpack.
He opened the box quickly, and pulled out the bottle with the green liquid inside. “Look – a drip with a red cross on it; that must be anti-poison!” Kern said excitedly.
“What if it isn’t?” Nuran asked, dashing back and kneeling next to Kern and Galandrik.
“He’s dying anyway. Sit him up and pass me the water canteen,” Kern said, steel in his voice.
Ty, who had come running back when Kern shouted, passed him the canteen; Sol and Nuran propped Galandrik up, his head flopping forward to rest on his chest.
Kern lifted Galandrik’s chin with his left hand and slapped him in the face with his right. “Galandrik, it’s Kern! Wake up,” Kern shouted at the delirious dwarf. Galandrik’s eyelids fluttered as he tried to focus, but it was not nearly enough. Kern splashed water from the canteen onto his face; it seemed to have some effect as Galandrik mumbled something incoherent.
“Drink this potion, it will make you better!” Kern carried on shouting, slapping the dwarf once more.
“Better… I must… d…d…riink,” Galandrik slurred.
“Hold his head back,” Kern said through gritted teeth. Sol and Nuran tipped Galandrik’s head back as Kern uncorked the potion bottle. Slowly he poured the liquid into the dwarf’s mouth, trying not to spill a drop. Galandrik drank it down well, considering the circumstances. When the bottle was empty, they laid the dwarf back down and waited, anxiously watching and waiting. You could have heard a pin drop in those moments; even the forest was eerily silent.
After several nerve-wracking minutes, Galandrik’s eyelids flickered, then slowly opened, his eyes trying to focus. “Wh… What happened to the orcs?” he asked.
Kern collapsed in a heap next to his backpack and heaved an enormous sigh of relief. Nuran punched the air and spun round on his heel, shouting “Yes!” and Solomon placed his hand on the dwarf’s shoulder. “Welcome back, friend,” he said.
“Back? I haven’t been anywhere!” Galandrik said, sitting up. Then he felt the pain in his back and let out a groan.
“Oh, stop your moaning, it’s only a graze,” Ty said, smiling widely at the dwarf. “Glad you’re fine,” he quickly added.
“Of course I’m fine, it’ll take more than a blasted orc arrow to stop me! Now help me up,” Galandrik said angrily, disgusted by the thought that orcs might have gotten the better of him.
Kern smiled to himself as Nuran and Ty helped the dwarf to his feet.
They rested briefly and then Ty and Solomon went on a quick scouting mission back to the entrance of the forest. They saw a few orcs camped there, waiting for them. Realization set in that they had no choice but to press on – through the forest. When they returned to the clearing, they talked through their options, and there was only one.
“There’s no way we can take the horses through here. It’s far too dense,” Solomon added to the list of problems already facing them.
“No, you’re right, Sol. What do you recommend we do with the horses?” Nuran asked.
“I know some animal lore; I could instruct them to go to another meeting spot.”
“What about Finn?” He would remember our horses, and maybe look after them until we returned,” Kern mused.
Ty turned to Kern as if to say something, but then looked away, silent.
After some more discussion, they all agreed that Finn was their best option. Solomon whispered secret words to the horses, stroking each one as he did, while the rest of the group stripped the horses of the gear and baggage that would be needed on the rest of their journey. Still, the horses stood placidly, showing no signs of departing.
“Why haven’t they left, Sol?” Ty asked.
“I told them to wait a day. That should give the orcs time to realize we are not coming out, and move on.”
“Hm. Good thinking.”
After the group had gathered up their equipment and said their goodbyes to the horses, they moved on through Gateford Forest, following the only track available. It had grown over many lifetimes ago, so they used their weapons to hack their way through the dense forest growth. Strange animal noises followed them as they moved cautiously forward, and red eyes peered at them from deeper within the trees.
After what seemed like hours, they reached a large circular clearing. At the far side stood a stone chair, moss climbing up one side. The clearing looked as if it had once been a gathering spot for the ancient forest people; it was easy to imagine the leader of that lost tribe seated regally on the rough-hewn throne, looking down at his or her followers as they bowed respectfully. Around the edge of the clearing stood a circle of stones, also covered in moss. These rocks had been carved into head-shaped figures, each one different from the next. All had seen damage over time from wind and weather, and some had lost parts of their once well-crafted faces.
“This looks like a good enough spot to camp,” Galandrik said.
“I don’t think the owners are coming back any time soon, do you?” Ty said, standing next to the dwarf.
Kern peered at the ground and after several moments said, “No one has been here for years. There are no tracks, apart from the odd fox, warthog, or deer. No human tracks at all.”
“I’ll start making a fire then,” Solomon offered.
“Plenty of wood around,” Kern joked.
“How’s the shoulder?” Nuran asked Galandrik.
The dwarf rotated his arm round and round, “Feels fine.”
“That’s good – then you can make dinner!” Ty said, jumping up onto the stone chair and shouting, “I am King Ty, your illustrious leader: Now make my lunch!” He stood with his arms folded, trying to look imperious.
Nuran chuckled. “Very nice,” Kern laughed, “now get down before you fall down.”
Ty leaned on the high back of the chair, still enjoying his pretence of being King. He shouted, “How dare you mock King – arrgggh!” as the chair tipped backwards, sending Ty flying.
The chair had locked in place, angled back horizontally to reveal a circular staircase opening up underneath it, leading underground. The cobwebs and moss that had covered the entrance broke away to reveal the stairs, and the void below seemed to suck the air down into it, making a sort of vacuum noise. A swirl of dusty white smoke whooshed up and out as the underground compartment filled itself with fresh new air. It was plain to see that this hadn’t been opened for ages. The light from the forest glade illuminated some twenty steps before the staircase fell into complete darkness.
Ty rolled to his feet as the others gathered round to peer down the stone staircase. “Didn’t see that coming,” he said, brushing dirt from his shoulder. Kicking a stone down the newly-opened stairwell, he listened as it clattered down into the darkness, echoing as it bounced down the stairs.
“Like tossing a coin into a well,” Nuran muttered as the noise finally faded away. “I wonder what’s down there,” he said, kicking another stone down the stairs.
“A dungeon full of monsters?” Galandrik offered hopefully, ever eager for a fight.
“It’s none of our business,” Ty scoffed. “It’ll just lead us complet
ely off track. Now, what’s for lunch?” He dusted his hands off as he walked away.
Kern glanced back at Ty. “You’re right, Galandrik. Probably loads of monsters, guarding all their monster treasure.”
Ty stopped abruptly. “Well. That is. Now that you… I suppose we could have a little peek down there; what harm could it do?”
Kern smiled to himself.
They forgot about lunch and gathered up their equipment. Nuran and Kern both lit torches; Kern led the group into the stairwell, with Nuran bringing up the rear as they slowly made their way down the stairs. The walls were carved of solid blocks of stone, damp to the touch; the smell was horribly stale, like swamp water left standing for decades. At the bottom their progress was halted by a stout wooden door.
“What do you think, Ty?” Kern said, raising the torch at the door.
“Let’s have a look,” Ty said, bending down to study the lock. “Hmmm, it’s an old one, only three core barrels. Should be easy enough to do.” Ty reached down to retrieve his bone-handled thieves’ tools and went to work. After about two minutes they heard a soft click.
“Bravo! Nice skill, that,” Nuran commented.
“Don’t start him off!” Kern laughed.
Ty stood up and waved an elaborate bow in the direction of the door, inviting them to go through. Kern listened briefly for any sounds from beyond the door, then pushed it open; behind it was a square stone room with two more exits, a wooden door to the east and a barred metal gate to the west. In the centre of the room was a large stone pillar with a red ruby set in the top.
Ty examined the wooden door. “No lock on this, just a star-shaped hole. I guess we need a star-shaped key,” he said, standing up and wiping his hands on his leather leggings.
“This metal door hasn’t got anything, just bars,” Nuran said, looking closely at the metal portcullis.
Kern looked through the bars and spied a lever on the other side. Getting the rope from his backpack, he tied a noose and began trying to flick it over the lever. After several tries, he finally made the shot, but just couldn’t get the leverage to pull it downwards.