“If I could do more, I certainly would,” thought Glaide, saddened by it all.
“Right, let’s move,” declared the father of the boy guide. “We should start by gathering as many stones as we can.”
“For the time being, don’t do anything with the torches. They’ll let us see our enemies coming, if need be. We’ll remove them when the wall is almost finished.” Everyone nodded, and then they divided the group into two. Glaide and another man worked to gather the usable rocks from the underground chamber, while the other three returned to the main cavern to do the same.
Within a few minutes, the boy found himself sweating. He set aside his cape and leather jacket, leaving on only his leather pants and his light, long-sleeved shirt. It was hard to breath there underground, because the air circulated so poorly, but the two workers didn’t complain. Their companions organized a chain gang through the tunnel leading to the surface, and soon, they had enough stones gathered up. Glaide let them take a break while he wondered to himself if the villagers were on the way yet. A response was not long in coming. The father of the young man came barging into the underground room with a big smile. Despite his excitement, he forced himself to speak softly, since he knew drawing the goblins to them would ruin their plan.
“We’re ready, everyone is here. I’ve already asked them to look for wood. The children are gathering twigs and fallen branches, while the men are using axes to cut down some trees. The women are also ready to lend a hand. Those with gloves are looking for poisonous and prickly plants to add in. I figure, that can’t hurt! Or it can’t hurt us, at least!” The man could barely hold in his laughter, and Glaide smiled in return, even if he couldn’t share in the man’s excitement, since he remembered that innumerable monsters were wandering around nearby, and it was vital that they not reach this room before it had been plunged into darkness.
“And the cement for the stones? Is it ready?”
“You’ll need to be patient. They’re making it in the village, but it will take time for them to bring it here.”
“Feel free to use my horse. If you can attach a cart, you’ll be able to transport it more quickly.”
“Right, I’ll tell my son to do that.” With that, he quickly headed back through the tunnel.
“Okay,” declared the man that had helped Glaide collect stones. “There’s nothing more we can do here for now. We should head up above to see if we can offer some help there.”
The adolescent nodded, then gathered his things and followed the tunnel in turn. As he went, he noticed that more torches had been placed on the ground to illuminate the way, and when he reached the cave, he found that a number of metal braziers had been set up, leaving no darkness in the space. With a smile, he thought to himself that in very little time, it had been transformed into a proper construction site. His impression was reaffirmed when he reached the entrance of the cave and saw almost the entire village, each occupied with a specific task. The children continually came and went, setting what they gathered in a pile that was already growing quite consequential. Off to the side, he saw another mound of poisonous and prickly plants, and Glaide saw three men cutting a tree into smaller logs to allow for faster transportation. What surprised him the most, though, was that when he appeared, everyone stopped their work to call out, “Long live the stranger!” The adolescent couldn’t help but smile.
“My name is Glaide,” he called out over the noise. Then, he encouraged them in their work. “Keep going like that, and in an hour or two, you will once again be safe!” At that, everyone returned to their work enthusiastically. The young man stayed there for a moment, watching them with their work. He wondered what Kezthrem would think of it all. Would he have had a different idea? A better one, perhaps? The adolescent shook his head. “He isn’t here, though,” he thought to himself. “So whatever he would think, it is what it is.”
He wondered to himself then if the injured man had survived. He had appeared to be in really bad shape, and the journey alone could have proven fatal for him. “But thanks to him, we’ll be able to block these tunnels in time. A few days later, and it would have been too late. The monsters would have scattered across the plateau, and battle would have become impossible.” The young man shivered as he imagined the scene.
The fact that they’d arrived exactly when they’d been needed had been pure luck, and that made him think back on his first moments on Galadria. He had wondered if chance would play an important role in an adventure like the one he was about to experience. He could now confirm that luck was essential! However, he still couldn’t say much about this Destroyer business. Up until now, he’d experienced no special powers, mystical aid, or anything else that proved him different from anyone else. Except, of course, for all of the problems he’d accumulated! “But if Baras is looking for me so carefully, he has to have a reason...”
As he reached that thought, his horse arrived. He pulled a cart with a huge cauldron in it, and Glaide approached to see that it was indeed filled with the mixture he’d asked for. He dipped one finger into it and noted it formed a paste that was a bit sticky, and thick enough to do the job. The four men and the boy that had accompanied him approached then.
“Six of us will be enough to build the actual wall,” the adolescent declared. “The stones are ready, but we need to bring down this cauldron.” They pulled the cart up to the entrance of the tunnel, then the six each grabbed part of the cauldron and, with great effort, managed to carry it to its destination. Glaide asked that more of the mixture be made, just in case there wasn’t enough, then he removed all of his clothes but his pants and boots. While his companions did the same, he thought to himself how lucky it was that he didn’t have to keep his sword permanently at his side. Here, it would only get in the way, and be a burden more than anything else.
They quickly set to work constructing the wall. They started by placing the biggest stones on the bottom. The floor here was luckily perfectly flat, so they could settle the first blocks firmly in place. They carefully applied mortar, then added a second line of stones, then a third. They were soon breathing hard and sweating, but no one complained. Glaide and the boy who’d served as their guide worked from inside the underground room. They also carefully verified that from their side, illuminated by the torches, the illusion looked correct, and they occasionally added bits of stone to block small gaps.
More than once, the group stopped working when they heard cries or footsteps, but each time, the sounds disappeared into the distance again, and with a sigh of relief, the men returned to their work. After half an hour, the wall had been built up two thirds of the way. Glaide checked that it was solid by tapping here and there with a big rock, and decided he was satisfied.
“It’s perfect. As long as our enemies don’t throw themselves against it, it should hold. Plus, it looks the same as the other walls in the room. Now, we just need to put out the flames and, once we’ve crossed over,” and here he pointed to himself and his companion, “we’ll be able to finish the construction.” The villagers nodded, and Glaide and his companion gathered the torches from their metal holders and passed them to the others, who moved them out of the way. Then, they went to crawl over the wall which, though not finished, was already even with Glaide’s neck. He gave his companion a leg up, and he reached the other side without incident. It was another case entirely for Glaide, however. He had to pull himself up. He gripped the recent construction, hoping it would hold his weight, and finally fell roughly to the ground on the other side, covered by scrapes from scaling the stone. “Let’s go,” he said, as he pulled himself to his feet. “We need to finish this wall, and then we can send the branches and such into the tunnel.
The work went much more slowly this time, since all six were now on the same side, and there wasn’t a lot of space. Plus, their only light came from the torches around them, so they had to be careful not to get burnt. It took another half an hour to finish the last rows.
Chapter 26
&n
bsp; THE six companions sighed a deep sigh of relief. Just as they turned to head back up to the surface to announce the good news, they again distinctly heard the sound of footfalls. This time, however, they could tell that the creatures were about to enter the room just on the other side of the wall. Glaide barely breathed out an order to extinguish all the torches but one, and to hide the light from that one as much as possible. If necessary, they could use the light of the last one to quickly return to the surface. Then, Glaide made his sword reappear, holding it at the ready, but motioned for the others to stay still. For them to draw their swords noisily now and divulge their presence was a complete non-option. Almost as if the mere sound of their breathing might betray them, they all held their breath.
In a moment of sudden lucidity, the young man—for whom all of this seemed like little more than a game—realized that if his plan failed, an entire village would be decimated. After all, only a few yards away were all of the men, women, and children, and none of them knew how to fight. If the wall fell, their chances of survival would be slim to none. But then, and without really believing it, he heard the sounds of the footsteps and growls fading into the distance, and then they disappeared entirely. The boy’s sword arm fell back to his side. He was completely astonished. He’d counted on the stupidity of his enemies... and he’d won! “My plan... worked!” he murmured incredulously. “It actually worked!”
He turned around to see the dumbfounded faces of his companions illuminated by the light of the one remaining torch. They, too, seemed unable to comprehend what had just happened. After a few seconds, they began to blink, and seemed to return to reality. Glaide put a finger to his mouth to remind them to be quiet, and his companions held in their cries of victory.
“Let’s head up,” he whispered. Though the cauldron of mortar was heavy, the six reached the cave in record time. There, they took the time to put their shirts and jackets back on, then rushed to tell everyone to bring down the wood and twigs. First, they piled up the poisonous and toxic plants, then, they added the branches from the children, and finally, they shoved in the collection of bigger logs until they had entirely filled the tunnel into the cave. Finally, they put out the flames in the last of the braziers, and everyone left the cave in silence. It was not until they’d passed out of the woods and reached the plain that Glaide finally heard a cry of victory, and then it was like none he had ever heard before. People threw themselves into each other’s arms, some crying tears of relief, and others laughing hysterically. The young man realized then that the sun was just beginning to set. He realized, too, how oppressive the cave had felt in comparison.
“And that’s that,” Glaide thought to himself. “We spent about a day here. That put us a bit behind schedule, but I think it was worth it.” One shadow remained in everything, though. What had become of Kezthrem, and of the injured man he’d taken with him? As everyone returned to the village, their voices became softer and softer, until silence gradually fell on the group once again. Passing from the excitement of their first victory, the villagers began to think about Fordel. Before they could celebrate anything, they wanted to know what had happened to him. They gathered about on the main road, speaking in quiet tones, silencing their cries of joy out of respect for the woman and children who were waiting to find out if they would ever see their loved one again. Glaide went over to them to inform them of everything that had taken place. He noticed that their faces were calm, and for a moment, he wondered to himself just what they might be feeling as they waited to find out if someone close to them still lived or not, while also learning of something happy that would affect them as well.
“Excuse me,” he began. The woman turned to him and smiled.
“You were a great help to us today,” she said. “Thank you.”
“I can only hope that my master, too, will have succeeded at his mission. It is thanks to your husband that a great catastrophe has been avoided. Because we could act so quickly, we were able to contain the threat.” The young man was about to add something else, but he realized the woman was no longer listening. She was looking at something over his shoulder. Her children stared, too, frozen in place.
Glaide turned to see Kezthrem’s horse coming up the path. Behind him, the three men who had accompanied Kezthrem were pushing the cart, Fordel still inside it, though no longer covered in blood. The adolescent looked for his master, and with relief saw him bringing up the rear. Beside him walked a man who must have been about fifty years old. His black hair was sprinkled with white, and from his carriage and how he walked, the young man could tell he was in good physical shape. He carried a pouch filled with the herbs he’d just come from collecting. Glaide remained where he was, but he saw the woman dash toward the cart, her children on her heels. The healer and leader of the village spoke to the woman quietly while Kezthrem, seeing his disciple, headed in his direction.
“Master, you’re back!” he exclaimed. “And how is the injured man?” His master didn’t have time to respond, however, because the villagers drew closer to the cart then, and the woman burst into tears in the arms of their leader. The adolescent couldn’t believe his eyes, and for once, he felt a deep sadness grow inside him. Even he seemed to have grasped the seriousness of what had just happened. However, Kezthrem placed his hand on his shoulder and murmured, “Don’t worry.” And then, the healer announced in a loud voice, “Everyone, Fordel lives!” The declaration was followed by a profound silence, and the boy realized that the woman was crying tears, not of sadness, but of relief.
“He just needs some rest,” Kezthrem murmured to his disciple. “But this man who healed him is a true master of the art. If it took us a long time to return, it was only because he wanted to be sure his treatment was taking effect.” Glaide nodded slowly. Then, it was their guide’s father’s turn to speak.
“We, too, have good news! However, I’m hungry, and thirsty, and I think it’s time now to celebrate!” A cheer rose up at his declaration, and everyone headed to their houses to gather tables, chairs, food, drink, and many other things, and then to set everything up in the open plain a little ways away from the village itself. Naturally, Glaide and Kezthrem offered to help, and among all of their comings and goings, they learned from the mouths of different villagers more and more details about how each side had accomplished the exploits that would live on in the memories of the inhabitants of this place.
Kezthrem and his group had gone down to the prairie around the rocky area that sheltered the village. From there, they’d headed north. The injured man had remained comatose throughout, and it was only from his shallow breathing—which one man had checked almost constantly—that they’d even been able to tell he was still alive. After about half an hour, they’d reached a forest, and once they’d entered, their guide had done an excellent job of guiding them to the healer’s cabin. Unfortunately, the man they were seeking hadn’t been there.
For a moment, they’d thought he was already on his way back, in which case they’d have had to transport Fordel back again. However, since they weren’t sure, they’d settled the injured man down on a mattress to wash his wounds. Once they’d finished, the man they’d been looking for had appeared. He’d healed the man, but had repeated constantly that the man really owed his life to the fact that Kezthrem had come across them. The alertness of the master of Iretane, and his ability to make decisions quickly, had been the man’s salvation. Once he’d become certain that the salves and ointments were doing their work, the group had headed back.
Kezthrem was very interested to hear about his disciple’s plan, as well, and when he heard how well it had worked, he smiled a little. Glaide noticed and wondered if it meant that he was proud of him, or if it was just that he expected no less of the student he’d trained. He got his answer when Kezthrem, after finding a seat at a table covered with all kinds of food, said simply, “Congratulations.” They settled into their chairs and dove into the food. The master and his disciple had been given places across from
the leader, and the adolescent was happy to have the chance to speak to him.
“And so, you saved Fordel’s life!” he exclaimed.
“And you saved that of my entire village,” replied the man. Glaide was stunned, and he sat there for a moment, not sure how to respond. The other man had a sober look on his face. “It’s all my fault. I knew that there were dwarfish tunnels under the mountain, but I never spoke of them, because I didn’t want to worry anyone. But without your intervention, my idiotic lack of prudence would have brought about a massacre.”
“You... You knew?” stammered the young man.
“I thought that all access to them was blocked by the stones that had fallen after the earthquakes. And everything looked so old, that I never imagined how easily a troll could destroy it, or that it was such a thin layer of protection.”
Glaide didn’t know how to reply, because for him, the whole day had been little more than a game, though he’d tried to forget that. Kezthrem, though, didn’t see things the same way. When he spoke, his voice was hard.
“You knew the there was a risk, and nonetheless, you brought all of these men and women to this rocky plateau? You know very well that in this day and age, the dwarves’ tunnels are dangerous, and they will remain so until the dwarves return and empty them of their occupants.”
The man didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the table in front of him. There was obviously nothing to add, and he was already well aware that it was his fault.
“Master,” Glaide murmured softly, so that only his master could hear. “Do you think they’ll leave this place?”
Chronicles of Galadria III - Lessons Page 19