So the monotonous search continued, and soon the trio came to an opening in the passage. The area branched off into three more corridors, similar to the area where they had begun their search. Artemas decided that the group would split up to cover more ground in less time.
“I’ll go straight ahead. Christopher, you search the right passage. Mr. Smithers, you go left. And remember, stay on this level.”
The group split up. Christopher was uneasy being on his own at first, wondering whether some large troll or hideous goblin might pop out of one of the doors at any instant. He hoped he could outrun such a creature. But he soon forgot his fears when he stumbled upon a small room at the end of his corridor. Bright sunlight streamed in through a window, making his surroundings warm and pleasant. It was a map room. Large colorful maps were fastened to every wall, and a whole shelf along one side contained scores of rolled up maps and charts of every place imaginable in this strange world.
Christopher first examined the largest map on the wall, and to his delight found that it was the only place he was familiar with. Before his eyes, colored in pale brown, was the kingdom of Endora. The boy slowly traced his finger along the path he had taken across the plains, stopping when it landed upon Malaban’s castle in the Pinecrest Valley.
As interesting as the map was, Christopher realized the information didn’t do him any good locating Princess Rosalind. So he turned to leave when his eye caught sight of a small map on the wall near the exit. Christopher looked closer and discovered what appeared to be a diagram of the castle. A small black dot on the map marked the very room in which he stood.
“This is just what we need!” But before Christopher could examine it further, he heard Artemas frantically calling from a distance. He dashed out of the map room to find him.
Christopher nearly collided with Mr. Smithers, who was also racing to find Artemas. They headed down the passage the magician had taken, finally discovering him inside a tiny room. He was hunched over a table cluttered with jars and vials filled with colorful powders and potions. The room resembled the magician’s own chamber in King Rupert’s castle.
“What’s the matter?” Christopher asked, very much out of breath. “We heard you calling and thought you were in trouble.”
Artemas looked up at his shaken companions. “I’m terribly sorry for my outburst, but when I found this room I couldn’t contain my joy. Look around! This is a magician’s paradise!”
Mr. Smithers smirked. “What’s so special about this room? Everything’s a mess. Dust everywhere.”
“This looks like your own chamber,” Christopher said.
“Exactly. I believe this is Malaban’s chamber where he practiced his sorcery. What a fortunate discovery. My own chamber pales compared to this!”
Artemas searched through every nook and corner of the room, making discoveries that excited him but meant little to Christopher and Mr. Smithers. The room contained five tables, each very cluttered, and a fireplace with a mound of cold ashes and charred logs inside. Yellowed scrolls and dog-eared books were piled everywhere, and a row of hideous looking animal skulls lined a shelf near a window covered by dusty drapes. Pale morning light seeped in through holes in the material. There were also three tiny storage alcoves built into one wall, each covered by a thick red curtain. Artemas read through one of the scrolls, forgetting that his companions watched and waited in silence.
Mr. Smithers could tolerate it no longer. “Artemas! We’re here to rescue a princess. We don’t have time to browse! At least that’s what you told me when I found my kitchen.” Artemas glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “Now if you intend to delay our mission and dabble with magic potions instead, then I shall go back to my kitchen and make a potato stew!”
Christopher flinched, surprised that Mr. Smithers had addressed the magician so forcefully. But Artemas took the point well and set down the scroll.
“You’re quite right, Mr. Smithers. We’ll move on at once,” was all he said, but not before gathering a few glass vials of colorful liquids and putting them in a sack he found lying on the floor. He handed it to Christopher. “These are some magic potions that might come in handy. Hold on to them for me. I forgot to pack some of my own back at the castle.”
Christopher took the sack and tied it to his belt, then started telling them about the map room as they headed for the door. Artemas suddenly stopped cold, placing his ear to the door and signaling for the others to be quiet.
“I hear something,” he whispered. “Guards! Two of them. Trolls, I believe.” Artemas turned to his friends. “And they’re coming this way.”
Since the sorcerer’s room was so small and there wasn’t a second exit, they had no choice but to hide inside one of the alcoves. They chose the one farthest from the door, closed the curtain, and waited anxiously in the darkness. What Artemas feared most happened next. The guards entered the chamber.
The two trolls stood nearly seven feet tall, and neither were very happy having to patrol the castle so early in the morning. They had dark leathery skin and wore ill-fitting uniforms. One punched his partner in the arm, speaking in a low gruff voice.
“I told you nobody was in here, Nagg! Why don’t you ever listen to me? You have rocks for brains!” the troll complained.
Nagg growled, exposing his sharp yellow teeth. “I know I heard voices!” He began to snoop about the room. “A shout came from down this passageway.”
“You’re hearing things, Nagg, you old troll!”
“Don’t call me an old troll, Bolo, or I’ll toss you out the nearest window!” He examined a few of Malaban’s scrolls.
“What are you doing? Let’s move on!”
“This is Malaban’s room, you fool. I’ve never been in here before. Now that he’s gone, what better time for a look?” Nagg said.
Bolo grew angry at his partner, letting a stream of hot breath hiss through his teeth. “Who cares about sorcerer’s tricks? We have to finish our patrol and get back to the meeting before Captain Urgot finds out we’ve been snooping.”
“Curses on Captain Urgot and all the other men!” Nagg sputtered. “Ever since Malaban disappeared, they’ve taken over the castle. Do you ever see men on patrol duty? Do you see men marching in the cold outdoors? Hardly ever! It’s all us trolls and goblins that get most of the dirty work. The meeting going on right now is just a waste of time. It’s all for show. I’ll bet you ten roasted squirrels that no troll or goblin will get picked as the new leader!”
“So what!” Bolo said. “There’s nothing we can do about it. If you’re so dead set against this place, why don’t you run away?”
“I just might!” he said, pointing a crooked finger at Bolo. But the sight of the curtained alcoves caught his fancy, so he dropped the argument for the moment. “Look at those over there. What do you think Malaban hides inside?”
Bolo was just as intrigued as Nagg, scratching his chin in wonder. “I suppose a quick search wouldn’t take too much time. Maybe there’s a barrel of dried mudfish behind one. I could go for a snack right about now!”
“Now you’re talking!” Nagg said, smacking his lips. He marched over to the alcove closest to the door and separated the curtains. “Nothing but sorcerer’s junk!”
Bolo did the same to the middle alcove. “Even less behind this one. Why couldn’t Malaban store something good in his chamber like pickled frog livers? What I’d give for a bowl of those right now.”
“You’re making me hungry!” Nagg said. “I’ll check inside the last one.”
Christopher, Artemas and Mr. Smithers heard every word the trolls said. Their hearts pounded and their limbs trembled, knowing it was only a matter of time until they were caught. They braced themselves, ready to rush at the trolls as soon as the curtain was parted.
Nagg trudged over to the last alcove and placed his hands upon the curtain. He was about to swish it open when a hair-raising shout from the corridor sent both trolls into a panic. “It’s Captain Urgot!” Bolo squealed in terr
or. “I told you we shouldn’t waste time!”
“Let’s get into the hallway before he catches us here!” Nagg cried, sailing past his partner toward the door. In the next instant the trolls were gone, the room silent. The trio hiding inside the last curtained alcove breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Artemas poked his head out the chamber door several minutes later. He didn’t see or hear any sign of the troll guards, so he quickly led Christopher and Mr. Smithers back down the corridor to where they had earlier split up.
“Now what?” Mr. Smithers asked, craning his neck each way for signs of the trolls. “We can’t stand here forever. Those creatures might return any moment.”
“Forget about them,” Christopher said. “I have something important to tell you.” With all the excitement, he hadn’t finished telling them about his discovery. “I’ve found a map room, with maps of every place in this world!”
“All well and good,” Mr. Smithers said. “But how’s that going to help us find the princess?”
Christopher placed his hands on his hips. “There’s also a map of this castle detailing every chamber. If we study it carefully–”
“–then we’ll be able to locate the prisons. Good job!” Mr. Smithers exclaimed.
“Show us this room right away,” Artemas said. “That will be a safer place than waiting here for some brute of a troll to come lumbering along.”
So Christopher quickly guided Artemas and Mr. Smithers to the map room. Since narrowly escaping the trolls and now finding a map of the castle, all were filled with a renewed sense of hope. Their chances of rescuing Princess Rosalind now seemed better than ever.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Above the Great Meeting Hall
“We’ll be safe in here,” Christopher said as he closed the door to the map room. Artemas and Mr. Smithers gazed at all the maps in amazement. “Didn’t I tell you there were lots? Hundreds, I’d say.”
“This is a much nicer room than the others,” Mr. Smithers remarked. “Except for my kitchen.”
“Oh, enough with your kitchen,” Artemas said, turning to Christopher. “Now where is the castle map you told us about?”
“Right there.” He pointed to the wall map near the door, and soon all were scrutinizing the diagram.
“Looks like a rat’s maze to me,” Mr. Smithers said.
“That’s because you don’t know how to read a map.” Artemas let his eyes wander over the paper. “Hmmm... According to this, we are standing here.” He pointed to a spot on the map. “There’s the sorcerer’s chamber we were just in. And there, Mr. Smithers, is your kitchen.”
“But where are the prisons?” Christopher anxiously inquired. “There are so many chambers in this castle.”
“Too many,” Artemas agreed. “Ah ha! Here they are. On the level below us. But in order to reach them, we must go all the way to the other side of the castle. If I’m not mistaken–” Artemas suddenly stopped to think out his strategy in silence.
“Is there a problem?” Christopher asked, studying the jumble of chambers.
“No, not a problem, but perhaps an advantage. Look here,” he pointed out. “These spaces are the prisons below, and over here is the passage that King Rupert and the others followed. Eventually they’ll pass by this door right here and open it.”
Mr. Smithers nosed up to the diagram. “What’s so special about that door?”
“This particular door leads down to the prison cells. Maybe they’ll be daring and explore below.”
Mr. Smithers shook his head. “I don’t think so. If you remember, each group was supposed to stay on this level of the castle.”
“I recall,” Artemas said. “But since this particular door opens up to a staircase and not a room, the King may get curious and check it out. If not, we’ll tell the others about it when we return to our hiding spot. Then we’ll all go to the prisons.”
Christopher had hoped Artemas would say that. Why should King Rupert, Molly and Ulric have all the fun rescuing Princess Rosalind? He wanted to be in on the action too. “Let’s go back now,” he said. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can begin the rescue.”
“We’ll leave shortly. But there’s something else I’ve discovered. Look,” Artemas said.
Christopher and Mr. Smithers studied the map again but appeared puzzled. “What’s the big deal?” Mr. Smithers asked. “You’re pointing to another chamber. They all look alike. What’s special about that one?”
“This chamber looks like an enormous meeting hall, Mr. Smithers. If I remember correctly, those two troll guards had mentioned some sort of meeting was in progress.”
“That explains where everyone is!” Christopher now understood what Artemas had in mind. “You want us to spy on their meeting.”
“Can you think of a better way to find out what is going on in this miserable place?”
“Or a better way to get us all captured,” Mr. Smithers cautioned. “It’ll be impossible to spy on hundreds of enemy soldiers without being spotted.”
“Oh, have a little faith, sir. We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?” The magician quickly filled them in on the details of his plan. “The meeting hall is on the main level, and I don’t think there is a way we can sneak in. A dozen guards would nab us on the spot.”
“My point exactly. So how are we to spy?” Mr. Smithers inquired.
Artemas referred to the map again. “Notice here along the top of the meeting hall. A narrow balcony encircles the entire chamber. The stairway leading up to the balcony is at the end of the passageway we’re in right now. We can scramble up there in the blink of an eye. This is too important an opportunity to pass up.”
“I think it’s worth the risk,” Christopher agreed. “Now that Malaban is gone, we should find out what his troops are up to. Maybe they’re planning another invasion of Endora to rescue him.”
“Good point,” Mr. Smithers said. “All right. I’m willing to go along. But I’m warning you, if I see any goblins or trolls look up at us, I’m running out of there as fast as a pig to a mudhole! The last thing I want is to be a guest in their prison.”
Satisfied that the passageway was clear, the trio left the map room and hurried along to the very last door on their right. Christopher opened it, revealing a dimly lit spiral staircase. Artemas entered first and the others followed.
They ascended the stone steps one by one. Christopher attempted to count them but gave up after forty-two. His legs began to ache and he didn’t care how many steps there were anymore so long as they came to an end.
“How high up is this balcony?” Mr. Smithers panted.
“Patience,” Artemas advised. “Look on the bright side. Chances are nobody will want to follow us.”
“They won’t have to. We’ll probably collapse and die before we reach the top.”
Despite the anguish of the steep climb, they eventually conquered the very last step. “At last!” Christopher said, plopping down on the floor. “Meeting or no meeting, I’m taking a break.” The vote was unanimous, so they rested for a brief spell, catching their breath and allowing the pain to ease out of their tired limbs.
They sat in near total darkness except for a patch of light that slipped out beneath a doorway a few feet off. Artemas stood and explored the area, only to find that they were in a tiny passage with hardly enough room for a half dozen people.
“The balcony is behind this door,” Artemas whispered. “I can hear the rumble of voices below. It must be an important meeting from the numbers I estimate.”
“How many do you think are down there?”
“I would guess hundreds, Christopher. So when we go through the door we can only open it the slightest bit. Just enough for us to squeeze through on our hands and knees. If someone happens to glance up, we’re finished.” Artemas paused to let his warning sink in. “After we’re out there and I close the door, we must crawl along and keep our heads down. Let me have a look before we begin.”
Artemas went to the d
oor, gently turning the knob and opening it only wide enough to let a beam of light peek through. The rumble of voices in the meeting hall grew uncomfortably loud. They sounded harsh and boisterous and apparently on the verge of exploding. Artemas closed the door.
“What did you see?” Mr. Smithers asked like an eager child. “What’s happening down there?”
“I saw hundreds of angry faces–men, trolls and goblins. They were everywhere! I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about, but I’m sure it concerns Malaban’s disappearance.”
“Is there cover for us out there?” Christopher asked.
“The balcony railing is nearly three feet high and made of old, dry wood with many splits in it, so we should be able to see and hear what’s happening. Just keep down! Are you ready?”
“Yes,” Christopher said confidently. Mr. Smithers merely nodded.
“Then let’s begin,” he said in a solemn voice as if they were about to meet their doom.
Artemas opened the door wide enough to crawl through. The angry voices below grew louder and louder as the three spies made their way onto the balcony. Christopher followed Artemas and Mr. Smithers was last, closing the door behind him. After pausing a moment, satisfied that none of them had been spotted, each found a place to watch the proceedings below, cramped and uncomfortable the entire time.
The great meeting hall was ablaze with torches fastened to every wall, pillar and archway. Large wooden tables were crowded with throngs of noisy men at some, trolls at others and goblins at all the rest. Mugs of warm ale cluttered the tabletops, and all drank as steadily as they argued. A wooden platform with a table on it was built along the center of the back wall. Seated at that table were the higher ranking officers in Malaban’s army. Most were men, though a few trolls and a goblin or two sat there as well. All in all, the vast chamber was hot and noisy and smelling of ale. Shadows from the flaming torches danced wildly on the walls, keeping time with the furious waving of fists of the raucous soldiers.
The Endora Trilogy (The Complete Series) Page 8