Medallion of the Undead

by Anthony Rudzki

  * * * *

  Delas walked on, looking at the others through half-closed eyes. Her legs were a dull ache that seemed a million miles away. She could hear and feel the steady hum of the rain as it tapped a steady beat on her. The noise had a mesmerizing effect on her and she fought to stay alert.

  Delas slowed down as she walked through the scattered rocks. She carefully made her way forward, keeping an eye on the back of the dark figure walking in front of her. Her mind drifted with thoughts of each member of the group. She couldn’t tell who it was ahead of her in the darkness and rain, but she hoped it was Adam. She debated whether she should call out to him, maybe maneuver next to him so they could walk abreast and talk. She decided it was worth a try and opened her mouth to call and closed it again when she heard her name.

  As she turned her head toward the voice, her foot landed wrong on the edge of an upturned stone, and she slipped, calling out as she fell to the ground. Her head struck a stone and she lay motionless in the rain.

  * * * *

  “Delas,” Amber knelt at Delas’ side. She gently shook her, calling her name several times, to no avail.

  Legan muscled his way next to Delas and slipped his hand inside the hood of her cloak. He felt the matted hair and the broken skin beneath it. He quickly slipped his pack off of his shoulders and opened the flap. He pulled a shirt free, grabbed each side of a seam and gave the material several strong tugs. The stitching gave and soon he had a large piece of cloth in his hand. He folded it over several times onto itself.

  He tossed the remaining material to Kyle. “Tear a long strip. We need to fashion a way to secure this bandage.”

  He pulled Delas’s hood back and pressed the cloth tightly over the wound.

  “Here,” Kyle said, jamming the torn cloth strip into Logan’s outstretched hand.

  “Hold your hand here,” he commanded Amber, and she held the bandage tightly over the area of the injury. He tied the cloth strip around Delas’ head, holding the bandage in place. Rain continued to fall upon the upturned, peaceful face of the unconscious Delas, as Kyle knelt down next to Legan.

  “Is she okay?” Adam asked, forcing his way between Kyle and Amber. He stroked her cheek with his fingertips.

  “She received a pretty good blow to the head. The pressure should stop the bleeding, but I’d like to get her out of this rain if we could,” he said looking around, “but that looks to be out of the question.”

  “Wait,” Kyle said, holding his hand over his brow, keeping the blowing rain at bay.

  “What is it?”

  “I don’t know, I think I see a light over there. It’s gone now. Wait, there it is again.” Kyle pointed ahead of them and off to the left. “It is just a pin point, but with the weather...”

  “I can carry her, let’s go.” Adam said.

  With Adam carrying Delas, the group traveled slower. The reduced speed was a blessing as they almost walked past the source of the light.

  Buried in the hillside behind a rock outcropping, was a narrow sliver of a passage that disappeared deeper into the stone. A gentle glow reflected off of the slick rock face. Small chips of quartz were embedded in the stone, and when wet, reflected the light from deeper inside the passage. Amber saw the almost hidden passage first and disappeared for several seconds before reappearing to the group.

  “It goes back a short ways and there’s a wooden door that’s in pretty bad shape. The light you saw reflecting off these walls is coming from inside.”

  With Legan leading the way, the group made their way through the short passage. Legan pushed the door and it opened uneasily to the screech of rusty hinges.

  He stepped inside the large room and called out. “Hello?”

  The room was open with wooden benches along one wall and a large table in the center. Several torches burned in holders bolted to the walls and a set of candles in a silver candle holder on the table gave the room its flickering light. Across the room was a rough-hewn doorway carved from the rock, and the passage beyond was black but shadows played inside the passageway.

  “Yes?” came the quiet voice from down the dark opening.

  “Hello?” Legan called again.

  Adam muscled his way past Kyle at the door and laid Delas down on the tabletop. He slipped his pack off and eased it under shoulders to support her head.

  He checked the bandage and found it still secure. “Legan, it looks like the bleeding has stopped.”

  Legan touched Delas’ head around the wound and grinned at Adam. “Aye lad. That is good news.”

  From the passageway, a tall, thin man stepped into the light of the room. He was dressed in worn clothes, patched and repaired in several places, and sandals covered his feet. He held a dual candelabrum in his hand.

  “What is going…What happened to her?” he asked, setting the candle holder on the edge of the table. Quickly, he grabbed a bowl from a small side table and filled it with water from a pitcher next to it.

  Dipping a cloth into the water, he wiped away the blood that had dried on Delas’s forehead.

  “She slipped on the stones outside and fell, hitting her head. Do you have any medicines that could help her?” Kyle asked.

  “No, I’m afraid. I’m just a poor traveler who managed to find this...place. I’ve made it into as much of a home as I can. You’re welcome to stay, if you like. Perhaps with some rest your friend will recover on her own.”

  “We would appreciate…” Kyle said.

  “The Gods,” the man exclaimed, slapping himself on the forehead, “I’m sorry, where are my manners? I am Omen Pine, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, holding out his hand, first to Kyle and then to Legan, shaking their hands vigorously.

  From the dark passage a large black cat emerged and walked to the far side of the room. Omen saw it first and swept his hand in a grand gesture.

  “This is Cathandra. She was living here when I moved in.”

  Amber saw the cat and cried, “Oh, look at the cat.” Her face beamed.

  She started in the direction of the feline, her hands already out in front of her ready to scoop the creature up. Before she cleared half the distance the cat reared up, the hair on its back on end and hissed at her, teeth bared. Amber stopped her advance immediately and backed up.

  “I’m sorry, Cathandra is not very comfortable with strangers. Once she gets used to you though, she’s very friendly,” Omen said, smiling before a more serious expression replaced it.

  “I’m sure you would like to get your friend settled down somewhere softer than that table. Please follow me.” Omen lifted the candle holder again and headed toward the dark passageway.

  Adam took Delas into his arms again and followed the group as they filed out of the large room through the passage and into another large area beyond. This room took them all off guard as it was some kind of holding area. Along one long wall were a series of cells enclosed in twisted iron bars, each with a narrow door hanging open. Inside each cell was a single rack bed holding a thin mattress filled with lumpy padding. The air was damp and carried the odor of mold.

  Kyle was the first to break the silence of the group when he saw the cells.

  “What is this?” He said loudly and more sharply than he had intended.

  Omen smiled sheepishly, his hands open and surveying the room as he spoke. “I’m sorry, this is how I found this place. I guess it was some sort of jail or holding area. I thought whoever owned it would return, but after six months, I’ve claimed it as my own, warts and all.”

  Legan pulled a torch free from its holder on the wall and held it high over his head. “Is this all there is?”

  “Actually, back there, on the far end of the room is a long passageway that leads down a set of stone stairs, but the ceiling collapsed in on itself, blocking the passage off. I ask you not to go there as the ceiling is very unstable and I wouldn’t want you to be injured by falling stone. Off of the main room we were just in, is my room, a small cooking area with pantry and
a storage room.”

  “We wouldn’t be staying long,” Kyle said.

  “As I said before, you are welcome to stay. I would really enjoy the company. It gets pretty lonely out here.” Omen’s voice trailed off.

  Adam carried Delas toward one of the cells, but paused before he crossed its open threshold.

  “Those locks are disabled on the cells,” Omen said.

  Adam stepped into the cell and gently laid Delas down on the cots. He brushed the hair from her forehead and knelt down at her side, looking at her still face for a moment before standing and exiting the cell.

  “I vote that we stay,” Adam said.

  Kyle looked at Amber and then Legan. They both nodded slightly without being asked if they wanted to stay.

  “We accept your kind hospitality, Omen. We will only be an intrusion until our friend feels better,” Kyle indicated Delas with his hand, “and then we will be on our way. For your trouble, I would like to offer you a fair rate…”

  Omen waved his hands in front of Kyle, pushing his hand away as it reached for the small money pouch at his waist. “That is ridiculous. You are stranded travelers, just as I was. You are welcome to stay as long as you like. That door there is a small storeroom. During my initial exploration of this place I found it stocked with blankets, but unfortunately, no pillows.”

  Kyle laughed, “I think we’ll survive.”

  “I’m going to put something on the fire for dinner for us all, I’m sure you must be getting hungry,” Omen said and disappeared into the passage that led to the front room, leaving the small group alone.

  Kyle stood staring at the dark passage Omen disappeared through. The sound of the storeroom hinges creaking broke the spell, causing him to turn toward Legan.

  Legan pulled several blankets from the stack on the shelf in the storeroom. He handed them out, giving an extra one to Adam to use as a pillow for Delas. Kyle took the blanket from Legan.

  “What’s wrong Legan?” Kyle asked, looking the dwarf in the eyes.

  “It shows, does it? I’m sure everything is fine, I just have an odd feeling, that’s all. I have a suspicious nature, as anyone who knows me would tell you, so it’s probably nothing.” Legan said, looking at the floor, embarrassed.

  “You too?” Kyle asked.

  Legan eyes narrowed. “You?”

  Kyle shrugged his shoulders. “It’s-It’s nothing. If you’re feeling uneasy about Omen, then by all means, stay on your guard. I just hope that we’re mistaken.” Kyle glanced at Delas’ still form. “And I hope we don’t run into any trouble.”

  A short time later Omen called to the others the food was ready. Kyle, Amber and Legan joined Omen at the table in the front room. He put plates of steaming meat and vegetables in front of them. Cathandra sat on the floor across the room, keeping her distance from the group and eyed them silently.

  “Where is…” Omen started and paused.

  “Adam? He’s sitting with Delas, keeping an eye on her in case she wakes up. If you don’t mind, I’ll just bring him a plate of food so he can stay at her side,” Kyle said.

  “Oh, completely understandable.” Omen filled an additional plate with food and handed it to Kyle.

  Legan intercepted the plate. “I’ll bring this to Adam.” He picked up his own unused fork and headed off down the passage between the two rooms, the sound of the conversation between Kyle, Amber and Omen fading with each step.

  “Adam, I brought you this. Didn’t want you to be wanting for food,” Legan said, stepping into the cell and handed the plate over. He looked around the room through the rusting bars of the cell. “How is our young lass doing?”

  “She seems to be doing better. If I didn’t know better I would say she’s sleeping, but I know that’s not the case. I guess it’ll just be a matter of time before she’s ready to join me-us again.” Adam looked at the floor. Legan put his hand on Adam’s shoulder.

  “You like her, don’t you?”

  Blood rushed to Adam’s face. “Like her? She’s alone. The guild she’d been training with, everyone she’s known for half of her life are all dead. I just think someone should look out for her. Be a friend to her, that’s all.”

  “Ahh, it’s good to have someone to care about. Warms the heart,” Legan said. He walked out of the cell, looked in the direction of the murmur of voices and then started off toward the collapsed passage at the far end of the room.

  “Legan, be careful. You heard what Omen said about the weak ceiling,” Adam called out.

  * * * *

  Legan pulled a torch free of the wall. “Lad, I’m a dwarf. If I don’t know about tunneling and can’t judge the strength of rock strata then we will have truly entered a dark age.”

  Legan peered down the tunnel at the huge piles of fallen stones. He stepped gingerly over some smaller stones into clear footing. He raised the torch over his head, looking for deep cracks in the stone or splintered supports. He examined them for a long moment, deep in his own thoughts.

  The stone around him made him think back to the first sixteen years of his adult life when he and his extended family spent most of their time underground in the mines of Maalar. The mines were almost fifty knots deep and thousands of knots in all directions. Heavy knotted rope had been strung through iron rings planted in the right hand wall and to indicate distance as well as to keep non-dwarves from becoming disoriented and lost in the vast underground labyrinth. Knowing the number of knots you were from the surface or the nearest rescue area could be the difference between life and death if a cave-in should occur.

  His mouth became suddenly dry. He licked his lips and then walked on, sweeping the walls and ceiling as he went.

  The tunnel bent to the left and Legan lost sight of Adam and the iron bars of the cells as he followed the bend. Soon he reached the point where Omen mentioned the collapsed tunnel. Any further exploration was impossible due to the stones piled around him.

  With a deep sigh, Legan leaned back against the rocks blocking the remainder of the passage. With pin-wheeling arms and a solid thud, he fell to the ground, facing upward, the wind taken from him. He lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

  What had just happened?

  Getting back to his feet, he picked up the sputtering torch and held it aloft again. He willed his breathing to become regular again. The torch recovered and the passage lit up in all directions.

  The huge stones he’d leaned against seemed intact and unmoved. He reached out to stone and found he was able to reach into the stone’s surface, his fingers cutting off as they pierced the stone’s plane. He stepped through the phantom stones, his hands sweeping before him as if he were struck blind.

  His hands didn’t make any contact in the damp air and soon he found himself at the top of a spiraled, stone staircase. Torchlight shone weakly from a room at the bottom.

  Stepping tentatively onto the top step he was relieved to find solid footing on the narrow staircase. He descended the stairs, making sure that each step was solid and what it appeared to be.

  “So Omen’s a magic user or illusionist. There is more to that man than first appears,” Legan whispered, a bit upset at himself for being taken in by the fake stones in the passageway.

  As Legan descended the stone stairs his thoughts went back to Maalar. He had gone back to the surface to replace a broken tool and was on his way back, descending a rough stone staircase, much like the one he was on now. He remembered being half way down when a huge cloud of heated soot blasted past him, knocking him onto his back and into unconsciousness. When he was found, he had somehow made his way to the mine floor, and was sobbing at the side of his badly burned mother. That was the beginning of the end of his mining days.

  “So what are you hiding, Omen?” he whispered, his foot touching the stone block floor at the bottom of the stairs.

  Looking around he found several torches set into the walls. He touched his torch to each of them and they ignited, flooding the area in light. The heavy musty od
or that he smelled at the top of the stairs was much heavier now. He stepped through the little area at the base of the stairs and into the room beyond.

  Legan stared in wonder at what he saw. On the right side of the room were several large piles of helmets, armor and weaponry of all types. He stepped forward and pawed through plate and mail armor being careful of the sharp edges from the various swords and daggers mixed in the pile haphazardly. All of it gave him the impression of being discarded without regard to its value or usefulness. The chaotic pile made no sense, Legan decided.

  Legan turned to head back the way that he came and stopped in his tracks. On the left side of the room, hidden in an alcove was a huge pile of bones.

  Human bones.

  Chapter Ten

  Legan gingerly pulled one of the bones loose from the pile. The bone was clean of any flesh or residue. It wasn’t completely without any damage however. Legan saw what looked to be pitting. He touched the damage, running his fingers over the arc.

  Teeth. The image flashed in his mind. He involuntarily shivered and dropped the bone back onto the pile as the horror dawned onto him of the possible danger that their group could be in.

  He started back toward the stairs. Hesitating at the pile of discarded weapons, he thought to grab one for himself, but continued on, thinking of his own weapon, the one he was most familiar with, strapped to his pack in the room above him. Taking the stairs two at a time, he reached the top of the staircase and started moving cautiously again, feeling the air in front of him to keep from running into real boulders among the imaginary ones.