by James Wolf
‘Some treasures have trigger switches underneath them,’ Drual swept his gaze over the sea of countless gold coins, ‘so be careful!’
But the rest of the adventurers were far too preoccupied with ogling the treasure to take any heed of the rogue.
‘We don’t want to go and set off any alarms,’ Drual said, ‘so don’t touch any of the big treasures. If there are any traps here, they’ll be on the most valuable and enticing items – it’s always the way...’ Drual shrugged, when he realised no one was listening to him.
The group spread out, scanning for the Key-Piece, shifting through the mountains of wondrous treasure. Baek found it hard to concentrate on what they were supposed to be looking for. The Aborle and his five companions had forgotten they were in a dangerous place, surrounded by undead monsters.
‘There’s enough gold here to buy a whole country!’ Drual picked up a diamond as big as his palm.
‘Or an armada of Shacainian wave-cruisers,’ Jvarna grinned, as she tried on a sapphire necklace.
‘With all this treasure,’ Balthus said wistfully, ‘I could build an army to strengthen The Gate. Protect my city and my people, maybe conquer the Lost Realms as well.’
Baek listened to the others talking, but he just did not feel the same way as they did about riches. He would be happy with enough coin to buy a fine horse, travel the whole of Hathlore, and return in safety back to Borleon.
After a few minutes of searching, Ragad gathered the adventurers around.
‘I have it,’ Ragad held up a small black pyramid in his hand. Each of its sides had a giant ruby in its centre, and the edges were covered with ornate gold metalwork.
‘Well done, Ragad!’ Baek slapped the Croma on his enormous shoulder.
‘The Key-Piece is exactly as Hirandar described it,’ Jvarna put an arm each around Balthus and Drual.
Unknown to the rest of the adventurers, Forgrun had long since forgotten the search for the Key-Piece. The Rhungar was off in the treasure chamber by himself. He gazed enchanted at a majestic crown, sat atop its own regal pedestal. Forgrun could see the crown was made of the purest gold, with priceless emeralds and rubies banded round its middle. It looked so inviting, so beautiful. He gaped at how the lantern light reflected off the shiny metal, and the gems glowed as if with an inner light. Forgrun thought it the most splendid piece of treasure, in this room full of riches. There was no harm in trying it on, Forgrun decided, as he reached out to take the crown. He could put it straight back once he had seen how it looked on his brow. The Rhungar stared in disbelief as the crown crumbled to dust in his hands. With a shake of his head, Forgrun came to his senses as the pillar the crown had sat on receded into the floor, and a wailing alarm sounded.
‘You idiot!’ Balthus screamed, seeing what Forgrun had done.
‘I said not to touch anything like that!’ Drual cried, as all the companions looked over to Forgrun. ‘We’ve got to run for it!’ Drual shouted, as he led off to one of the passages. The rogue had been in situations like this before, and he was the first to react. ‘This place will be swarming with the living dead in no time!’
As Drual said it, Skeletons were ambling into the treasure chamber, through one of the other passages. The six adventurers ran and ran, through tunnels and passages, until Forgrun, Drual and Jvarna could take no more.
‘Let’s rest for a minute,’ Jvarna gasped, and the heaving warriors stopped in the middle of an empty corridor. But there was not to be a moment’s respite for the adventurers.
‘I’ve had enough of this,’ Balthus snarled, as he drew his sword and brought the point up to Drual’s chest. ‘You are Maliven, I’m sure of it.’
The other companions were all shocked by the murderous glint in Balthus’s eyes.
‘I’m not the one who set the alarm off!’ Drual said desperately. ‘The Rhungar did.’
‘Ye crown,’ Forgrun said bashfully. ‘It do be so beaut’ful. I could nay do take me eyes from it,’ the Rhungar shook his head, and looked to the floor in shame.
‘I don’t know who it is,’ Balthus’s gaze skittered around the group. ‘But one of you is Maliven. When you’ve been fighting the Dark as long as I have, you see things others would miss.’
‘Like you saw your own advisor was a Dark Servant?’ Drual said sarcastically. But wished he had not as soon as he uttered the words.
Wrath filled the Lord of Dolam’s eyes. Baek thought Balthus really did look crazy enough to kill the rogue. Balthus’s sword trembled in his unsteady hands, inches from Drual’s sternum.
‘Enough of this!’ Jvarna demanded. ‘No one is a Dark Servant.’
‘I agree,’ Ragad said calmly. ‘Lower your blade, Balthus,’ the Northman said, but the barbarian gripped his warhammer, ready to smash down the Lord of Dolam.
‘Let’s just get out of here,’ Baek said, and everyone nodded at the Aborle.
‘Aye,’ Forgrun said quietly, still embarrassed he had set off the alarm.
‘I still think there’s a Servant of the Dark amongst us,’ Balthus muttered under his breath, as the six adventurers started on again.
‘Stop being so paranoid!’ Jvarna said fiercely.
Baek thought that was brave of her, considering how unhinged the Lord of Dolam was. The Aborle drew his broadsword, in case Balthus attacked Jvarna.
‘Pull yourself together!’ Jvarna said to Balthus. ‘You’re being ridiculous! We may yet need to fight again, for which we need you with us, and thinking straight.’
To the Aborle’s amazement, Balthus sheathed his sword and nodded at Jvarna.
‘Maybe you’re seeing things,’ Jvarna said softly, as she put a hand on Balthus’s arm, ‘seeing Dark Servants all around, because you’re still shocked by Isornel’s betrayal.’
‘Perhaps,’ Balthus sounded tired and confused, ‘I am overreacting, and seeing things that aren’t there. But I could have sworn…’ Balthus paused, with a troubled look on his face. ‘Let’s just get out of this cursed pyramid,’ Balthus added, saying the first sane thing he had said all day.
‘Lights out,’ Logan whispered back, from in front of Hirandar and Taem.
Hirandar’s magic sphere winked out, and Taem blew out his lantern’s wick. The last thing he saw was Logan motioning for them to stand flat up against the passage wall. Fifty feet up ahead there was a faint glow, where their passage crossed another tunnel. As the trio waited, they heard voices and footsteps approaching, and Taem realised they were not the familiar voices of his friends. Taem stood still as a statue.
‘They’re here,’ rasped an evil voice up ahead. ‘They’ve stirred the walking dead.’
Taem felt a shudder across his back at the sound of that voice.
‘No matter for us,’ said a sharp voice. ‘I can control the undead easily enough.’
Hirandar, Logan and Taem were silent. They did not dare make a sound. They all knew the rasping soulless voice could only belong to a Baku Nightdemon. The other voice had to be Isornel’s. Only a Dark Wizard, well versed in the black arts of necromancy, could command the undead.
‘Do you think our spy has made his move yet?’ Said a different snivelling voice.
Taem felt Hirandar tighten up, and he pricked his ears. Had Taem heard right? Were they talking about a Dark Servant spy within the Hand of Fire?
‘Quiet, you imbecile!’ Hissed the Baku. ‘Or I’ll cut out your tongue.’
‘Oh, Remar,’ Isornel said disdainfully, as he came into view at the crossroads. ‘You can be useful, but also moronic beyond words. I’d hate to have to kill you, and send you to meet our Great Lord – before you’ve had chance to fulfil The Pledge.’
‘No, Highseer Isornel,’ Remar said fearfully, ‘forgive me.’
‘You Baku are right,’ Isornel sneered, as he passed out of sight, ‘humans are pathetic.’
Taem watched as seven men, four women and two Rhungars followed after the Dark Wizard.
‘Alyssa,’ Logan whispered, as the Dark party passed.
Taem did not think Alyssa had looked as if she were a prisoner, as she glided alongside the Dark Servants.
‘There is a Maliven betrayer amongst our company,’ Hirandar said gravely, once the evil party was well gone.
‘Do we follow?’ Taem asked. ‘We could take them by surprise?’
‘We can’t follow,’ Logan murmured, as he stared up towards the intersection. ‘We have to go back.’
Coming down the passage, Taem could make out shadows stumbling towards them in the darkness, hear their spine-chilling moans.
Turning back the way they had come, Hirandar said, ‘The Maliven traitor may already have made his move on our friends. We must find the others, before it’s too late!’
Chapter 27 – The Darkness Within
The six adventurers trudged on, led by Jvarna and Baek. Ragad was silent as ever, Balthus had become pensive, Drual thought it best to let someone else try leading their group, and Forgrun was keeping to himself, embarrassed after setting off the alarm. They did not know which way led back to the entrance, so they decided to keep going straight. If the path forked, Jvarna always took them left – in an effort to keep track of their route.
One of the six was plagued with a different fear. The Dark Servant had not slept well since he joined the Hand of Fire. He repeated the Black Pledge in his mind. Words he had not realised would be so binding, in his younger days. How reckless and foolish he had been. Those Dark words tormented him. He wished he could take back the Pledge, but it was too late for that.
Looking at the companions around him – friends he had made, or rather the people that had befriended him – made the Maliven sick to the pit of his stomach. The thought of betraying them made him hate himself. He looked at the amiable Rhungar stomping alongside him, and he was ashamed to think he would kill them all to claim the Key-Piece. But what choice did he have?
The Dark One only liked treachery to happen one way. If a Dark Servant were to betray the Black Cult, the Maliven’s revenge would be brutal. If he renounced the Black Pledge, it would make him the hunted – his name passed to all the Maliven in Hathlore. If he went for help from the forces of Light, he would have to try and explain why every Dark Servant wanted him dead. Besides, it was like that trusting old fool of a Wizard said, if the authorities worked out he had once been Maliven, he would be executed for his crimes. Even if he renounced the Dark One and begged The Light’s forgiveness – even with his fame and fortune – it would not save him. Plus, he knew, first hand, how saturated the authorities were with Maliven.
If he renounced the Dark One, the Maliven would catch him, and he would die a long and excruciating death. He knew he would suffer the worst agony imaginable before the end. It made him shudder, just thinking of the murders that had been carried out on Maliven turncoats. He had heard of traitors being force-fed live rats, and then being eaten from the inside out by the frenzied vermin. Those that betrayed the Maliven were flayed till they died, or slow roasted over hot coals, or lowered inch-by-inch into a pit of Nargs.
The traitor knew his only option was to continue as a Dark Servant. But there were certain advantages to that, he reminded himself. Perhaps he would just stay on the Dark path. Yes, he would have to. For the Dark path had, thus far, given him great benefits in his wretched life. If he could retrieve the Key-Piece he would be well rewarded – he might even be raised to become an Overseer. He just had to deal with the good warriors of the Hand of Fire first. His task had been made considerably easier, with their separation from the Wizard and her Sodan guard dogs. Without them, the group was leaderless. It had been easy for him to prey on the insecurities of the remaining companions, creating distrust and suspicion.
‘Are you all right?’ Baek asked the traitor.
The Maliven nodded his head, as the six warriors walked on, following the lantern Jvarna carried. The Dark Servant thought the woman was bright, but was a trusting fool, taken in by his lies. Like the Wizard, easy to deceive. The Rhungar was faithful and stupid. One of the men was suspicious, but his ignorance was his downfall. Maybe the wild man might be a threat to him, if things continued as they had done. The traitor might have to kill some of them first, before he disappeared into the darkness with the Key-Piece. The Maliven would enjoy murdering some of these warriors, and the others he did not care either way. If he had to, they also would die by his hand. He would leave these fools clueless and bewildered – the Dark Servant thought to himself, as his companions walked on around him, oblivious to his evil thoughts.
‘There’s light in the chamber ahead,’ Logan said, as the three old friends walked down a wide passage. ‘And it cannot be Isornel, from the direction we left them.’
‘If it’s the others,’ Hirandar said sternly, ‘act normally. Say nothing of one of them being Maliven, but stay on guard. I’ll draw out the traitor.’
Hirandar’s sphere of magic light shrunk away to nothing, as the Wizard closed her palm. Taem shut the metal door of the Rhungari lantern he was carrying. The three of them had not discussed who the treacherous Dark Servant was, but the list of possible suspects was short. Taem knew it just could not be one of his friends, Baek or Forgrun, and it was not Jvarna – the Dark Servants had implied the traitor was male. Taem did not want to believe Ragad, Balthus or Drual was capable of such a betrayal, but one of those three was the traitor.
Taem, Logan and Hirandar could make out six silhouettes, by the approaching lantern light they carried. The Wizard and the two Sodan got ready to meet their companions and be normal. Taem steeled himself to conceal the strain and anger he felt.
Baek led the adventurers into a huge chamber, floored not in stone but with sand underfoot. To the Aborle, this chamber seemed more a subterranean cave than a constructed room. Baek froze when he saw someone had entered the far end, under the cover of darkness.
‘There’s somebody over there,’ Baek whispered, and his five companions stopped, drawing their weapons. The Aborle notched an arrow. But to Baek’s tremendous relief, one of the figures lit up a magic light to illuminate their way, and he saw it was Hirandar, Taem and Logan.
‘All’s well,’ Baek whispered.
‘Ha ha!’ Forgrun boomed. ‘By ye luck o’ ye Gods!’
Of the group of six, only the Aborle saw the wariness with which Taem approached – for Baek knew his friend well. Though Hirandar and Logan let nothing show, they also must have been heedful of something, which made Baek uneasy. The other five warriors alongside him did not see it, as they rushed forward to greet the members of their company.
As the Hand of Fire reunited in the chamber, they all felt the ground begin to shudder. The companions shot worried glances between themselves. Taem looked to Logan as the rumbling grew, but the Sodan Master was scanning all around the chamber, hand on his sword hilt. Hirandar leant on her staff, fighting to retain her balance. Ragad stumbled into Drual as the chamber jolted, and Balthus dropped to one knee. The whole cave was shaking, not just the floor. Taem planted his feet in a wide stance, bent his knees, and held out his arms.
‘The inner tomb is sealing itself!’ Drual shouted.
Jvarna screamed as something grabbed her ankle in a vice like grip. Taem looked down at Jvarna’s feet, and saw a skeleton hand had broken through the sand and latched onto her. Balthus cut the grasping arm away with a deft swing of his sword. All over the juddering floor, Taem saw skeletons punching up through the sand.
‘It’s a trap!’ Logan roared.
‘The pyramid is stirring the living dead!’ Hirandar yelled over the thunderous rumbling, as hundreds of skeletons struggled up through the sand.
Taem gaped in horror, at how the chamber floor was strewn with a crop of grasping, fleshless arms, a nightmarish vision of a netherworld.
‘Run for it!’ Balthus bellowed.
All the company sprinted to get out of the sandy chamber – their running clumsy and jagged as the floor shook. In the chaos of the skeletons’ raising, and in their haste to escape, the companions starburst in dif
ferent directions.
‘Wait!’ Logan cried. ‘Everyone this way.’ The Sodan Master halted at the mouth of a passageway, but it was too late. The company was separated again by a new horde of the living dead.
Most of the adventurers had followed Hirandar’s sphere of light, but Ragad’s way to the Wizard had been blocked by emerging skeletons, so he was forced to take a different passage. Lucky for him, he held one of the company’s Rhungari lanterns to light his way. Ragad could not go back through the skeletal horde, so he would have to follow this tunnel, going on alone. After a while, he remembered he had held the Key-Piece before all the chaos.
Worried it had fallen from his pocket, Ragad set the lantern on the floor and searched. To his relief, he found the Vokra in his right trouser pocket. Ragad took out the small black pyramid to examine it. It was a strange thing that had caused all this trouble, the Croma ran his finger down the Key-Piece’s sleek obsidian sides. The Vokra was warm to touch. It was such a small thing, yet so many desired this trinket. So many would do anything to possess it, and now he held it. He smiled at the irony.
Ragad flinched. He heard a sound in the darkness behind him. The Croma brought his attention back to the passage. He pocketed the Key-Piece and brought up his huge warhammer. The giant Northman pricked his ears, listening, waiting motionless. He heard nothing. Ragad dismissed the sound as his imagination and bent down to pick up the lantern. As he relaxed his guard, he heard something move again. Ragad turned to face the noise, and was hit hard between the eyes. The giant man collapsed to the passage floor, his vision blurred. Ragad put his hand up to his head, and felt the wet blood flowing down his face. But whatever hit him had been blunt, not sharp. The blow had been meant to hurt, not to kill. Through his dazed eyes, Ragad could not make out his attacker’s features. But as his head slumped face first to the floor, he recognised the distinctive boots. Ragad’s last thoughts were confused, as the world went dark and his eyes closed.
