Valley of the Black Dragon

by B A Fleming

  Curran, Nathe, Veer, Gameard and Dralan sat around to discuss their plans once everyone else had been briefed about what lay ahead. Curran undertook silent task of dismembering rabbits from their coats and using his dagger to precisely slice through the tendons. Dropping the pieces into the now boiling water finally gazed around, absently noting the constituents of the various conversations.

  At some stage, soon they would need to climb up through Indramur Pass. The trail was within a days’ hike. One option was to climb along the top of the steep escarpment to avoid the trolls. Although there was less chance of being seen, with the recent snow falls any path would be slippery and perilous.

  The other idea was to hug the bottom of the mountains and pick a path along the steep scree where the mountain walls met the thin band of forest. This was possibly a slower path as snow gathered heavier there but it was a far safer route. They chose the upper path and set off steering clear of the mountain trolls.

  Shortly after they passed a few remaining goats steadfastly stuck to the huge rock walls above them as if held there by some sort of glue. The party moved through the waist deep snow step by step, with those previously injured travelling further to the back. Yet no one was fully recovered from the battle. Within the first hour of making their way along the edge of the steep and inconsistent walls the scout returned again with disheartening news.

  They had found a small trail ten minutes along leading up out of the snow to a rocky outcrop some hundred and fifty feet above the path they were currently on. Ice Gols scouts were on the path no less than an hour ahead of them. Something was happening ahead and they needed to make it to a safe spot.

  The group moved quickly through the snow and then climbing, skidding, but generally trying to be a quiet as possible as they scrambled up the goat trail to a rocky outcrop to hide within the cliff face in between boulders and curved rock where a group of stone pinnacles had separated from the main cliff face.

  Five minutes after they settled and broke out some dried nuts, Ice Gols scouts were spotted on the path they had just left. Curran and his men had made enough side tracks and back tracks that the Ice Gols scouts would at least be confused for a while.

  “Oh, shit,” whispered Daak, closest to the northern end of the hideout with a small view along the walls through a crack between stones.

  “What do you see?” whispered Gameard in return.

  “Ice Gols. A lot of Ice Gols all flowing down from the pass.”

  “How many?”

  “At least a hundred so far, but they are still coming. Actually, they don’t seem like they are going to stop anytime soon.”

  Almost half of those that had reached the flatter sections of the trail from a steep mountain pass had set into slashing undergrowth and small trees along the path, essentially doubling or tripling its width. Scouts combed the surrounding forest and soon after the mountain trolls could be heard hurling abuse at the Ice Gols scouts as they came across their campsite.

  The morale of the party sunk as hour after hour passed with a horde of Ice Gols making their way down from Indramur Pass, forming up and marching in disparate formations of a hundred or so. Nathe and Veer sat close to an opening considering the mass.

  “I estimate over two thousand so far,” observed Nathe.

  “I’d put the numbers closer to three,” replied Veer.

  “Here comes the big boss,” whispered Daak. The word was passed along. A procession of yaks had been herded down the trail from the pass, with the last one saddled. As the ground had begun to flatten a large Ice Gol wearing a black suit and the black hide of a yak as a cloak climbed back aboard it. He wore a large broad

  sword by his side and was surrounded by five Ice Gols magicians similar in statue to the one they had faced previously.

  “I can sense something magical about him,” mentioned Thais, sitting directly behind Nathe.

  “I think he can sense your magic too,” he whispered without turning. “He seems to be scanning, as if looking for us.”

  With this Thais curled up tightly behind him as if trying to make herself small. Dralan, put his body over hers protectively.

  The mountains trolls exited the forest and fell in behind the Ice Gols leader. They trudged along the path created by those before them as still more soldiers made their way down the trail from the pass.

  For several more hours the horde passed by them until a few hours before sunset the path emptied as stragglers made their way down, often arguing and fighting over pieces of meat and goat they had obviously hunted during the journey.

  “With that many men, the only path that they could take down into the valley is further to the south of the ones we came up,” discussed Veer. “And therefore, through the Grangols’ territory.”

  *****

  His father had taken him to the mines of their duchy on many occasions. Twice they had been trapped due to rockslides and his father, more an optimist than doubtful, had taken those occasions to teach his son some measure of miners’ craft. He felt for the gentle breeze of wind which would signal a passage near the surface or the scant sound of someone moving in passages over two hundred feet away. He counted turns and distances and made a detailed mental map of his travel. A simpler route was to seek to turn left then right in turn. This meant keeping tab of any tunnel entrances that appeared upon his trail.

  Casperi realized that he had no sense of time in these caves. He had slept on several occasions but was unsure just for how long each time. As much as he tried to use his body clock to sense the difference between day and night the heavy knock that he had suffered several days before still left him in a daze.

  He estimated it had been at least two days since the battle and since no one had come looking for him it was reasonable to think that they were either dead or more likely they thought him to be. His knew that his going was slow and often contorted through the tunnels, weaving and back tracking to avoid the worms that were either many in number or moved around a lot. When the worms were about he tended to run in bursts, changing direction where possible, down impossible corners that he knew the worms could not take. He didn’t let himself become frightened by the desperation of the situation.

  He had only one torch which he used sparingly for when he was moving. If he came to a stop or heard any sounds the torch went out instantly. He also extinguished it when he slept and by now had become far more comfortable with the complete darkness about him and the process of

  lighting and extinguishing the torch. He kept his eyes closed most of the time when there was no light. He realized that he could actually see shadows more clearly once he opened them and that his mind would wander less from fear.

  For now, he could hear only his own breath and his heart pounding. He rested, trying to calm his senses so that they could become useful to him once more. After another hour Casperi sat down for a moment, his heavy breath easily giving away his position if anyone would have come upon him.

  He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. Deep, long breaths to bring his heart rate down and regain his composure. After a few minutes his body temperature had dropped and he felt the sweat soaked shirt on his cold back. He closed his eyes and thought. Taking stock Casperi realized that he still had his small saddle bag with him. He had been running so much during the previous hours that he had completely lost sense of it.

  He felt around inside. A small water flask, almost empty, and a few biscuits wrapped in cloth. A flint and hand knife. At least he wasn’t going to starve this day, that is, if he wasn’t killed first. It was a maze of passages and he quickly resolved that even if he could recount some of the thousands of steps he had taken the creatures were still lurking somewhere. His best chance of survival was to keep going forward in hope of finding a way out before them.

  Time had again drifted and hunger now started to consume him. He came to a large cavern, making a cross mark in the dirt at the point that he entered. He scanned around the edges of the cavity that rose up into the
darkness above him. Four tunnel entrances and no signs of anything passing recently. That was both good and bad. He propped his almost depleted torch up between two rocks and sat on a third fumbling for one of the biscuits. He then set off again aware that if he was to not find a way out shortly he would be trapped in this labyrinth without a torch and almost no chance of finding a way out.

  He ran until he entered another cavern.

  There were signs that someone had passed this place. Not during the past few hours, but at the very least within the past week. He picked up an almost spent torch and lit it from his own. That would give him a few more minutes of light. From the foot prints it was evident that these were human type tracks and not from the barefooted creatures that were tracking him when he entered. He scanned the ground slowly, finally deciding on the path that they had taken from this place.

  Within a few minutes the path began to climb, first gently, almost imperceptibly, and then slowly steeper and steeper. Then darkness. His torch had touched the side of the cavern wall as he adjusted his footing. He cursed to himself under his breath and put it down.

  He would have to continue in darkness.

  The path was clean cut but not smooth and the height of the ceiling had decreased to a level just lower than his full standing height. With a slight bend, he stepped slowly measuring the solidity of the ground before each step, using his back foot to take most of the wait. He imagined that people had died in this black abyss and didn’t intend to add his name to that list. The corridor twisted and turned only slightly as it made its way upwards. Sometimes the path flattened out for a few minutes but he could not tell if the side passages branched off except on a few occasions where his hand slipped in the darkness whilst searching for a hold.

  With his eyes now more adjusted to the darkness he finally saw some faint glimmer of light ahead. The path seemed to branch off to his right and he followed it to where the light was. He could smell something long before he could define it.

  Casperi crept up carefully to the end of the opening. He sat a few paces in so as to still be in shadows and to protect his darkness adjusted eyes. He closed one eye to retain his night vision and scanned the scene. Three men, speaking a language he didn’t recognize and wearing foreign clothing. They spoke in a friendly manner towards each other, unaware of his presence.

  They feasted on something that had been cooking on the fire. His hunger burning inside him got the better of him

  and he called out to them, stepping into the light. They all jumped to the feet, weapons half drawn, surprised and exchanging glances but not aggressive.

  Casperi dropped his sword in front of him, raising both his hands and indicated that he was hungry with a gesture of eating food. One of the men laughed and smirked towards the others indicating a place to sit as the others stepped cautiously to the side before sitting again a short distance away. Casperi chose to leave his sword where he had dropped it for the moment and move forward to the campfire.

  When he was seated, and eating the first man strolled back to where he had come, sword drawn, glancing into the darkness of the passage to make sure that their visitor was alone. He picked up Casperi’s sword and walked back towards him. He stopped eating for a moment as the man presented his sword back to him. The other two men remained calmly settled, watching the exchange, before the man sat back down near the weary traveler.

  The man introduced himself as Aryz Coun and indicated the names of his companions Temar and Maler. All three men possessed darker skin than any people Casperi had ever seen. Their hair was wild, like his easily becomes, but their dark unkempt beards, full lips and penetrating eyes were different to any he had known. They wore full length, similarly detailed woven cloth shawls decorated in bright designs of triangles and squares, and the occasional figure or scene. Each seemed to possess one leathered and one silver arm band. This man before him wore three braided strands of hair with red and white cloth woven into its ends, and stitched fur moccasins.

  Although Casperi did not understand the language that was spoken he realized what was being said and repeated their names, then pointed to his own chest several times saying his own name in return.

  He ate and started dozing as he sat. Temar pointed to his bedroll. Casperi nodded and within a few seconds was sound asleep.

  Chapter 11

  Thais and Curran looked up along the trail that was Indramur Pass. All of the Ice Gols had now descended and passed their position. Of the remaining mercenaries, only Veer had claimed to have made his way up the steep trail that lay before them.

  Veer passed his stick along to Vabnar, who was still struggling with a leg injury suffered during the battle. Nathe gave public praise to Veer, who had carefully analyzed the situation and plotted out a path based on the capabilities of those around him.

  The party had waited out the night in their small cavern even though they could see the Ice Gols campsite further along. The sun made a short appearance in the early morning, just enough to warm them, rest wounds and gain feeling in their fingers and toes, however the sunshine quickly retreated back in to the clouds. With already wet equipment and limited food, morale had already started to fall.

  As they made their way up during the first hour the air thinned more than any of them had ever experienced, and each breathe increasingly aching deeper down their throats with the cold. All of them had now covered their faces with cloth and wore woollen hats with ear flaps, the standard winter garb for soldiers and mercenaries alike throughout the valley.

  Curran was the first to notice significant changes as now barren rock, vultures and some small birds were the only animals in sight. The weather started to cloud in and thicken as the minutes past, with light snow starting to fall again after two hours of starting up the trail. Several of the travelers started feeling lightheaded, in addition to the now ongoing sensation of being very, very cold. In what seemed like only a few minutes the mist had dissipated and they took in amazing views across the valley of farming lands squashed between rocky outcrops and giant open areas of forest.

  Thais looked up the trail to the top of the mountain pass.

  In one moment it had looked just above her, but as she rounded a corner it seemed an equally similar distance still left to climb. Her legs ached, but she didn’t want either the Catheridge soldiers nor the mercenaries to see her to be weak.

  Nathe called for a break and water to be gathered from the adjacent glacier. Orate and Edgar hiked slowly but surely on the faintly marked path for a few minutes to gather it. Edgar felt an inner coldness that seemed to shatter his bones. He had never remembered being this frozen in his entire life.

  The mist seemed to close in more. Within five minutes the men had returned and the party rose and started up the mountain again. Each settled into their own rhythm as they paced up, taking care of each other, looking for safer spots to stop if they happened upon Ice Gols.

  An hour and a half later they stopped to refill their bags from a small waterfall that flowed across the steep, narrow path and under a small bridge. Most of the time the trail was wide enough for three to easily walk aside, although in thinner sections two would struggle to stay on the path next to each other.

  Many had wanted to stop and drink a lot, which the front members managed to do as they halted regularly to wait for the rest of the party. The track became increasingly steeper and harder with the lack of air.

  Snow began falling again, more thick and constant now, then lightning strikes started to light up the mountains to the north. Dwane had commented that every time the group thought they had reached the peak, they would reach the shoulder and see that there was another section to climb. As if they were experiencing different phases of their own lives, their emotions rose and fell in succession.

  The group started to break into twos and threes as injuries from the previous battle began to take their toll. Various men were left to give support to each other, taking their own time as Gameard and Soze protected the rear of the
group whilst Curran and Dwane scouted at the front.

  The snow increased, hitting them like small shards of ice. Everyone started eating the limited snacks of dried fruit, yak meat that they carried.

  The storm passed once again and although there was no sunlight, the air hung thickly around them.

  Thais sat upon the trail during a rest break. The ground was very cold. She practiced some of the mediations that Priest Nolan had taught her, calming her mind and listening to the sounds that crisply echoed across the snow.

  The dream was dampened once fog surrounded them again and the path to the top was no longer visible. Veer estimated there would be three hours of possible sunlight left in the day. Although some had found themselves questioning their motives this news mainly brought relief and they now seemed more determined to reach the top of pass.

  Within the hour, the snowfalls started again. A gloomy fog that hung around them now combined with increasingly heavy drops of snow. Every five to ten steps some had to stop, in order to synchronize their rhythm of paces. For a few minutes the blizzard obstructed their view and covered the path, adding another degree of difficulty to the trek. Then the snow decreased, eventually stopping. The party sat together, cold and cramping.

  “If we cross the pass we will be able to make our way in the next valley where there are caves not far. I hope the snows will be lower and allow our pace to increase,” offered Veer to those around him.

  Curran and Edgar went forward, returning five minutes later with news.

  *****

  Casperi awoke to now find five men sitting around the campfire.

  “Can you understand me in this tongue?” asked Aryz Coun. His dark curling hair swept back with a receding hairline. His eyes were dark as well, easily penetrating all that they saw.

  “Yes,” answered Casperi suspiciously.