by Mark Barber
Suppressing a string of curses, Tancred made his way over to the edge of the chasm where Hugh and his aides waited with Georgis and Aestelle.
“What are our options?” Tancred asked as he approached.
“We can’t throw a line across, not from this distance and uphill so far,” Hugh grimaced as he looked up at the edge of the shattered bridge on the far peak, “and we will lose too much time in building an entire new bridge.”
“We could find another way north,” Georgis offered, his face reddened from the exertion of the march. “This can’t be the only way through the peaks.”
“You’ll lose two days heading east to the coast, even more to the west,” Aestelle shrugged nonchalantly, her blonde hair whipped out to one side by the wind. “This bridge has been just fine for the last five years. Somebody doesn’t want you following them.”
“Yes, I can see that!” Hugh snapped, turning his back on her and the sight of the impassable obstacle.
Platus immediately flashed what Tancred assumed was supposed to be a dashing and apologetic smile to the tall woman. She returned the gesture with a brief frown of contempt before suppressing a yawn. Tancred shook his head. He found Platus’ sycophancy disappointing, but not surprising. Many, if not most, men would be influenced in their actions by a woman of such incomparable beauty, but not Tancred. Rather than be seduced by something as base as aesthetic appeal, Tancred was confident that his parents would be able to arrange a suitable marriage for him based on wealth and social status, when the time was right.
“You’ve got one other option,” Aestelle continued. “There’s a cave entrance only a stone throw from here. Very cramped, very unstable, but it leads up to the path on the other side of this chasm. It will take a little over an hour to get there.”
“We can’t move an entire force, with horses and wagons, through a cramped cave!” Hugh seethed. “Especially if the damn thing might collapse on us!”
“It is a good thing that was not my suggestion, then!” Aestelle snapped irritably with a fire that clearly surprised the Dictator-Prefect. “But if you get a man with a good throwing arm up on the other side of this chasm, he could get a couple of lines down to you. Then you could repair that bridge.”
Hugh glared at Aestelle and then turned to face his aides.
“Trennio, thoughts?”
“We’re weighing up the risk of losing a few hours and one man, versus losing days. I can’t see a better option, my lord.”
“Platus?”
“Likewise,” the tall man nodded slowly.
“I shall go,” Tancred took a step forward. “I can find my way to the other side.”
“No,” Hugh held up a gloved hand, “if those caves collapse, I lose one of my best men and your paladins lose their leader. You’re not going. However, your bull of a man who insists on beating up my soldiers. How about him? He’s got a good throwing arm, I’m sure.”
Tancred felt his temper rising as his eyes shifted from face to face among the four men stood in front of him, all of whom smirked while they waited for his reaction. The fractious nature of their group had so far been nothing more than a severe irritation; now there was talk of endangering the life of one of his men with calculated deliberation.
“He is my right hand man,” Tancred argued. “He is not the best choice.”
“A moment ago you were willing to go yourself,” Georgis countered.
“And the folly of my offer was immediately pointed out to me! The same logic applies to the safety of my second!”
The legion captain opened his mouth to speak again but was silenced as Aestelle walked to stand between them.
“I’ll look after your man,” the blonde woman said coolly, her face serious as if discussing a business transaction. “As long as he does exactly what I tell him to, we shall be fine. I’ll go with him.”
Faced with the victorious smiles of Hugh and his lackeys, Tancred could only turn on his heel and stomp back to the peak to the south, down to where the knights and men-at-arms rested on the grassy slopes in the early afternoon sun. He quickly found Orion, alone on a small plateau to the east of the path, reading his Eloicon. The huge man had trimmed his beard neatly back which, combined with the few days hair growth atop his head, had completely altered his appearance. His features softened considerably, he now looked a decade younger and far closer to the handsome and heroic image often associated with paladins. He turned to face Tancred as he approached, putting his book carefully back by his side and offering a warm smile.
“There’s a problem up ahead, Orion,” Tancred winced.
“How can I help?” the big man asked.
“The bridge is down. We need somebody to get over to the other side to throw lines down so we can repair it and keep moving. There is a tunnel leading over to the other side.”
“Alright,” Orion nodded.
“We cannot all take it, as it is too cramped. And unstable. Dangerously unstable,” Tancred explained quietly.
“Ah.”
“The Dictator-Prefect asked for you personally. Said you would be the best man for the task.”
“I’ll bet he did,” Orion laughed quietly to himself, looking down at his feet momentarily. “Alright then. Best go get this done.”
Chapter Ten
The cave leading to the higher peak was less of a tunnel and more of a sheer drop, at least to start with. Orion peered warily over the lip of the cave entrance into the dimness below, estimating how far down it was as he did so. The cave mouth itself was surrounded by a handful of skeletal, wind-bent trees and moss-covered rocks. Tancred stood by Orion with a lit torch while Aestelle carefully coiled the ropes they would need to take through the caves. Hugh and his aides looked on from the top of the hill, a few dozen yards away.
“If we have not heard anything from you after an hour, I shall come down and find you myself,” Tancred said. “I will bring a couple of our best with me, just in case you are in any trouble.”
“I am sure it will be simple enough,” Orion said as he heaved the heavy rope up over his head and shoulder to sit diagonally across his chest. “Our guide believes we should not have any difficulty in negotiating a path through.”
“Be careful, nonetheless,” Tancred urged as he looked down into the darkness below. “I will ensure no stupid decisions are made in your absence. Like moving on without you.”
“Yes,” Orion nodded, appreciative of the sentiment but now worried about an eventuality he had not yet considered, “that would be good.”
Aestelle walked over to the two paladins, the various weapons on her back and around her waist chinking with each step.
“All ready?” she asked.
Orion nodded.
“Right,” she gave a slight smile, “after you, then.”
Tancred tossed the torch down into the darkness. Its flames danced off the cave walls as it fell, coming to an abrupt halt on a platform after only a short drop. Orion sat on the edge of the cave mouth, turned, and lowered himself down before letting go of the lip. The first second of plummeting through darkness was expected, but after only the briefest of moments, he felt fear surging through him as the fall lasted longer than he had anticipated. Then the world came to a stop with a jar, and he suppressed a yell as pain flared up through his left ankle. Struggling up onto one knee, he pressed a hand against the injured area and quickly healed the affliction with his meager grasp of divinity magic.
A light thud echoed from the cave walls, and Orion turned to see where Aestelle had landed effortlessly next to him. She picked up the torch and turned to face toward the higher peaks, looking up at where a small gap in the rocks led to another cave.
“This way,” she commanded, tossing the torch through the gap and then planting one foot on a natural ledge in the rock face to vault up and through to the next cave.
Orion followed her example, dragging himself up to the opening easily enough, but then finding it considerably harder work to squeeze his armored bulk
through the same gap. Finally arriving in the next cave, he looked around at the almost unearthly sight of stalagmites and stalactites stretching up from the cave floor and down from the rocks above, pushing up through a milky colored lake of perfectly still water.
“Watch your footing, Ogre,” Aestelle warned. “Step where I step. Put a foot wrong, and we’re both in trouble.”
Orion followed the tall woman tentatively through the cave, working slowly toward the far side where a gentle slope of jagged rocks led back uphill toward their destination. He watched in interest as the blonde woman alternated between small steps and long strides, trying in vain to work out any discernible pattern to her progress.
Without any warning, the rocks below Orion gave way. He felt the ground crumble and fall, leaving him tumbling down into the blackness, bouncing painfully from hidden obstacles as all light was snubbed out of his world. It all stopped almost as quickly as it started, leaving him in silence and darkness. His head throbbed with pain and his hands felt numbly around in the murkiness as he realized he had no idea how much time had passed since he fell; whether it was a brief few seconds or even hours. His face felt cold as it pressed against the rocks, and as his thoughts began to clear, a rising panic forced its way into his mind as the thought of being buried alive leapt to the fore. A dull but welcome yellow flare of light appeared in the corner of his vision.
“Down below! Are you there?” A familiar voice called out from what sounded like a long way away.
“H…here…” he managed weakly as he struggled up to his hands and knees, the sound of rock falling on rock echoing around him as a great weight lifted from his back. The stale air felt thick and close.
“Can you hear me?” He heard Tancred’s voice call distantly again.
“We’re down here,” Aestelle replied from somewhere close by, “we’re fine.”
The yellow light became something more discernible, transforming into neat squares of dark red. Orion felt a firm hand on one shoulder.
“Hold still,” Aestelle said, “you’ve taken a knock to the head. Let me have a look.”
Orion’s vision sharpened back into focus and he saw his own hands planted on the ground ahead of him. The red squares were tiles on the floor, cracked and ancient with weeds growing up between them. He stifled a grunt of pain as he felt a bandage being wrapped around his head.
“Stay there,” Tancred’s voice echoed down again, “I’ll get help.”
“We’re fine,” Aestelle called up, “we can still make it through. Wait by the bridge. We’re carrying on.”|
“I am sorry,” Orion managed as the bandage was tied around his head, “I did not mean to…”
“Not your fault,” Aestelle cut him off coolly, “don’t worry about it.”
Another wave of small rocks fell from Orion as he slowly stood, one hand pressed to the wound on the side of his head as he looked around. Pyramids of stones, waist high, were scattered across the chamber around him where they had plunged through the ceiling. Aestelle’s torch cast a circle of flickering, yellow light around them, illuminating a semi-sphere in the darkness for only a few paces. All that Orion could see was the detail on the carefully constructed tiles on the floor beneath him. Wherever they were, it was a place that had not been disturbed for many years.
A single knock echoed in the darkness and two tongues of orange fire leapt up from torches secured to the walls to either side of Orion and Aestelle. A second knock sounded and another pair of torches burst into flame, followed by another and another every second until a line of a dozen torches along the walls to either side of them illuminated the chamber. An ancient set of tall, double doors barred their way at the far end of the chamber. Lining the walls, between the torches, tall alcoves were cut into the rock. In each alcove stood the figure of an armored, long dead warrior. Their skeletal remains stood obediently to attention, their rusty coats of mail covering their bony torsos while their hands clung to circular shields and pitted, notched longswords.
Aestelle drew the huge greatsword from her back.
“They’re going to move,” she warned.
Orion opened his mouth to chastise her for letting her imagination run away.
Before he could speak, small orbs of red glowed to life in the eye sockets of each of the twelve skeletal guards, and the undead soldiers stepped casually down from their alcoves. Much to Orion’s surprise, they began to walk right toward them.
Aestelle dashed out to meet the first skeleton, bashing its shield to one side with a heavy swing of her sword before hacking the undead warrior down with three vicious strikes to the torso. Galvanized into action, Orion drew his own heavy greatsword and stepped out to meet the skeletons advancing from their right, swinging his blade in a great arc around him to decapitate the first warrior before advancing to cut a second adversary in half at the waist.
Sensing a strike coming in from his left, Orion pivoted on the spot and deflected a series of well-placed attacks by another of the skeletal horde before jumping back to dodge a swing at his head from a second undead warrior advancing from his right. The skeleton lurched forward under the weight of its own blade, giving Orion a fraction of a second to capitalize on the opening; he brought a fist around to smash into the skeleton’s face with a crunching of bone, sending it sprawling to the ground. Orion brought an armored boot stamping down on the undead soldier’s head, crushing the skull underfoot.
Deflecting another well-aimed blow from the undead swordsman to his left, Orion saw the skull skittering across the floor from the warrior he had beheaded. It joined up with the prone form of the rest of its body, and the reanimated corpse staggered back up to its feet to rejoin the fight.
“Get that door open!” Aestelle shouted from his side as she ducked beneath an attack aimed at her head before kicking an undead warrior back against one of the dusty walls. “We can’t hold them off forever!”
“You go!” Orion answered. “I will keep them back!”
With an angry yell, Aestelle slid beneath the attacks of one of the five skeletons that surrounded her, batted aside a strike by a second, and then shoulder barged her way through a third and fourth undead warrior to sprint for the door at the far end of the chamber.
Bringing his own blade slicing down from above his head, Orion cleaved another of the skeletons in two from crown to groin and then dashed through the opening he had created, turning his back on Aestelle and the door to face the remaining skeletons. He felt a strike clang off his breastplate from a skeletal swordsman who had come around to the right; he turned to face his attacker just in time to see an arrow whistle through the air and smash straight through the skeleton’s nasal cavities, lodging itself firmly in the undead creature’s face. The skeleton staggered in confusion for a few moments before crumpling to the ground. Orion looked over his shoulder and saw Aestelle stood by the open door, notching another arrow to her bow.
“Hurry up, for the Ones’ sake!” she shouted from the far end of the chamber.
Orion turned to run and immediately felt a strike on his back, again impacting harmlessly off his breastplate. Accelerating to a sprint, he winced as Aestelle loosed an arrow that shot straight past his face and over his shoulder, resulting in the clattering of bones behind him. Orion kept the pace for the remainder of the chamber, hurtling through the open doorway and into the darkness beyond. The doors closed with a heavy, echoing thud behind him, and he turned to see Aestelle positioning a heavy wooden beam across the doors to lock them in place.
The tall woman picked up the blazing torch from where she had discarded it near her feet and turned to look at Orion, fixing him with a narrow-eyed stare of disapproval and accompanying smirk that he somehow found simultaneously patronizing and charming.
“We’re in a burial chamber,” she explained as she paced past him, holding up the torch to examine the room they had entered as the dull, distant echo of hammering sounded from the far side of the thick doors. “I am going to assume that you have not
found yourself in a location such as this before.”
“Well, I have been to a few funerals,” Orion offered, straight-faced.
Aestelle suppressed a smile and raised her brow.
“Funny,” she continued, taking a few tentative paces around the narrow tunnel they had entered, “but the dead don’t walk at funerals, Ogre. You’re heavy cavalry, you dominate the battlefield, I understand that well enough. But this isn’t the battlefield; you’re in my world now, and this is how I make a living. This mountain range is littered with places like this, most of them from The Time of Ice. They tend to follow a certain pattern.”
Orion looked along the tunnel ahead, his eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness but still failing to see any ending to the passageway. The same red tiles continued underfoot but far less effort had been put into the bland tunnel walls.
“I do have a name,” Orion offered to Aestelle.
“You are ‘Ogre’. I don’t need to know your name. Consider yourself honored that I have given you a nickname. In my experience, which is extensive, your skills are even a touch above mediocrity. Now be a good fellow and do exactly what I say from here on in.”
Orion let out a sigh of exasperation and turned again to make his way down the tunnel. He had taken only a single step when Aestelle grabbed him by the back of his breastplate’s neck seam with surprising strength, jolting him into motionlessness.
“I said, ‘do exactly what I say’,” Aestelle hissed through gritted teeth, drawing her blade and pointing the tip of the weapon down near Orion’s feet. Through the darkness, he made out a thin line suspended at ankle height lying just over his toes.
“Trip wire,” Aestelle said, before planting a fingertip on his chin and guiding his head to look down at a tiny, rusted metal box at the foot of the wall and then up at a slit built into the brickwork at head height. “Trigger mechanism, decapitating blade.”
Orion shivered involuntarily as he realized how close to death he had just found himself. He stared, fixated on the slit in the wall and the blade that lay hidden within.
