by Max Anthony
“I think it’s time we made efforts to escape,” said the wizard. “I haven’t found a metal stave, but I’m pleased with these boots. And your crossbow is a prize worth talking about.”
“On the other hand, I’ve lost my favourite dagger to slug acid,” said Viddo. “All I’m left with is this comparatively shoddy second dagger, that might better suit a thief of middling-fair ability. How many coins were there in that chest?”
“I didn’t count them exactly, given the circumstances,” admitted Rasmus. “I think there were ten or twelve platinum coins and perhaps eighty gold coins. Their weight is beginning to drag on my robes.”
“I’d hoped for a few more coins than we’ve found,” said Viddo. “We’ve got enough to hire comfortable lodgings for a few months and get drunk every night, but there’s nothing like enough to buy a new dagger.”
“Can’t you make do with just your crossbow?”
“Good heavens no!” exclaimed Viddo. “A crossbow is a complement to my main weaponry. Ideally, I should carry two daggers, a long sword and a crossbow such as this one I have found. All things considered, I’ve not really come out of this at all well.”
“Are you planning to stay here for an eternity in your hunt for magical items?” asked Rasmus in confusion.
“Of course I’m not. It just sticks in my craw somewhat. I think I’m in agreement that we should try and escape for now, though I would dearly like to return when we are able, in order to better plunder these depths.”
Neither man spoke that which they did not wish to mention: they had no idea at all about how they were going to escape. After a time, during which they journeyed along over a mile of bland corridors, Rasmus broached the subject.
“We should be on the lookout for a set of stairs, I reckon. Ones that lead up this time.”
“Do you remember that adventurer we found at the bottom of that spiked pit? I doubt we were too far from some stairs at that point, if we’d been of a mind to search for them,” said Viddo.
“A shame we have no hope whatsoever of finding our way to that place again. I’m not looking forward to the climb, either. I’m sure we’re well over two miles down. That’s an awful lot of steps.”
“It’ll help get rid of your paunch.”
“I do not have a paunch,” protested Rasmus, sucking in his stomach and running a hand down his front to demonstrate the flatness.
“It might be those robes you’re wearing. They’re a bit baggy and they make you look plump.”
“Plump?” gasped Rasmus, who was definitely not carrying any spare meat on his bones. Eventually he realised he was the target for some gentle baiting. “There’s still time for me to stumble upon some more flattering robes,” he said. “And it would be nice to think that there were some hot springs here as well. A warm bath would be a wonderful way to clean off all of this turd I am plastered in.”
The corridor ended, presenting them with a left or right option. Viddo went to the right, claiming that it was because it sloped upwards. Rasmus couldn’t immediately detect a gradient, but soon it increased to a noticeable slope which continued for another two hundred yards, before levelling off. There were more rooms here and the pair noticed that the colour of the rock was changing. It wasn’t an abrupt shift, but over the course of a hundred or so paces, it went from the drab grey, to a lighter colour. It wasn’t quite the yellow of a soft stone, but was of a brighter and cheerier hue than what they’d become used to seeing. Since they’d left the fissure, there’d been nothing to indicate a purpose for the tunnels they’d found themselves in, but now there were doorways at regular intervals.
“More living quarters. Or places for people to come and work. Perhaps they had craftsmen who could sculpt beautiful things from the rock and who needed somewhere to operate,” said Viddo, letting his imagination run away.
“I don’t see why they wouldn’t have such people,” said Rasmus, quite taken by the idea of artisans toiling in these places. “Every other society has them. People have always appreciated beauty and been driven to create it or admire it.”
“Or destroy it,” added Viddo cynically.
Further along, the rooms became progressively larger, until some of them were twenty or thirty feet to a side, with high ceilings. In one or two, there were carvings on the wall. Viddo spent a short time looking at the first such markings, but concluded that he was looking at drawings, rather than writing.
“More gods-related stuff,” he said. “There are at least four different gods depicted on this wall alone. Either that or there’s one god and these are his captains.”
Rasmus was interested in his friend’s findings, but poked around the room as he listened. “Another stone bed,” he said. “Do you remember that stone bed we saw in the first underground city? Here’s another one.”
“Early civilisation must have been an uncomfortable place to be born,” said Viddo, reiterating his displeasure at the thought of sleeping on a block of stone.
They left this room, continuing their journey in the same direction as they had been going. Soon it became apparent that they’d entered another distinct area of the underground complex. Corridors went off in all directions and the familiar glass light balls appeared in the walls at irregular intervals. Viddo observed a few empty sockets and concluded that this area had once been well-lit, but that many of the balls had been stolen over the years and taken elsewhere.
Halfway down one corridor, they investigated another room – the largest of the ones they’d seen amongst the yellow rock.
“Now here’s some writing,” said Viddo, furrowing his brow in concentration. There were carved symbols all across one of the walls.
“And here’s a chimney breast with a fireplace!” said Rasmus, thirty feet away. “And a stone chair and a stone table. They had all the modern facilities in here. They must have been lords amongst the others.”
“Shush,” said Viddo, waving his friend into silence.
Rasmus complied, but continued to stroll around the room. There were stone alcoves in one wall, with stone hinges, many of them snapped. There were four of the light balls – one in each corner of the high ceiling. There was another stone slab with raised stone sides and a raised stone back. Rasmus looked at it in puzzlement for a time. Then, it came to him. A stone settee, he thought with a giggle. I wonder if they brought friends around to show off their furniture.
By this point, Viddo was ducking and leaning in front of the text on the wall as he tried his best to decipher the meaning of what it said.
“Another lunchtime menu?” asked Rasmus, sauntering over.
“No, not a lunchtime menu,” said Viddo. “The writing here is almost exactly the same as the writing we saw in the city above and similar to that in the earlier temple rooms, though with notable differences.”
“Meaning that it was made by the same people?”
“Perhaps, or was influenced by those people. I’ve been thinking about it some more since we left those earlier temple rooms.”
Rasmus also thought about it, though he did it on the hoof. “We thought that the people above came digging for their gods below and whatever they found, it killed them.”
“Yes, yes,” prompted Viddo.
“But the similarity of the writing suggests that either the people from above were more successful in their endeavours than we initially thought, and they managed to populate this area below.” Rasmus thought some more. “Or the shaft from the city above wasn’t made from the top coming down, but was made by the people down coming up!”
“These are the thoughts that I have had,” confirmed Viddo. “It suggests that whatever killed the people above and turned them into undead didn’t happen at the same time as the hole was made, since this writing exists both up and down.”
“Or it suggests that an entirely different people or race made both sets of writing and perhaps used those grey folk above as their slaves.”
Viddo threw his hands up, though it was in excitement
, rather than exasperation. “This place produces conjecture upon conjecture! How I would love to find out the truth of it all!”
“What does the writing say?” asked Rasmus.
Viddo turned back to the wall, and started tracing a line across some of the symbols with a fingertip. “Another countdown,” he said. “More gods-related stuff, too. The thing about language is that it can only convey the meaning of something that’s relevant to the people who created it. The people who lived here were so far removed in how they thought and how they recorded those thoughts, that a lot of what they say here is meaningless. They might have had a thousand words to describe the texture of rock, but none of those words would make any sense to us.” He pointed to an etched figure. “I think this is someone of significance. Not a god, but I don’t know what else it could be.”
“A high priest?” asked Rasmus.
“Yeah. Maybe a high priest,” came the reply.
Viddo wanted to inspect the writings for longer, but Rasmus had found himself become increasingly fascinated by the fireplace, since it implied that wood or something else flammable was available to the occupant of the room. He tugged his friend over and demanded an opinion.
“I suppose they could get wood down here if they knew the way to the surface, which I assume they did,” guessed Viddo. “You said before that the surface might have been barren and that these people lived here through necessity, but if there were woodlands and forests, then it’s not really an immensely long trip to get up there, cut down a few trees and then return with the wood. Five or six miles each way – I’ve known people walk far greater distances to get something they need.”
“And the people in this room must have been wealthy by the presence of these opulent furnishings,” said Rasmus, waving a hand to encompass the stone settee, bed and table.
“I wonder where this chimney goes to,” pondered Viddo. He looked at the opening – it was two feet square and two deep. Dropping onto all fours, he twisted his neck and looked upwards. “It can’t go all the way to the surface, surely?” he asked himself out loud.
“It probably vents into someone else’s room or a corridor above,” said Rasmus. “If they were wealthy, they likely didn’t care where the smoke went, as long as it was out of their room.”
“I’m sure you’re right,” said Viddo. As he spoke, the vibrations of his voice dislodged a small quantity of ancient soot. The rattling sound as it fell gave the thief enough warning to pull back his head before it became showered in dirt. “It looks as if it tapers further up and might not be such an easy place to explore. Chimneys can be a thief’s best friend at times. Even the most well-guarded of mansions has chimneys and no one ever thinks to put guards at the bottom of them.”
“They’re certainly not a wizard’s best friend,” said Rasmus sniffily. “You’d not catch me climbing up one of those things for all the money in the world.”
“I wouldn’t dream of asking,” said Viddo. “I would hate to feel responsible for your sparklingly clean robes getting covered in grime.”
Rasmus ignored the reference to his filthy state and the two made to leave the room. Viddo was ahead and as soon as he reached the doorway, he stopped suddenly as if he’d walked into another invisible force barrier.
“Footsteps!” he whispered. “Get back inside!”
Rasmus stepped a few paces away and watched as Viddo turned his head this way and that. The wizard recognized what his friend was doing – he was trying to gauge the direction and distance of whatever it was that approached.
Viddo withdrew his head from the corridor and spoke quickly in hushed tones. “Dread knights,” he said. “At least two and coming from both directions.”
“Balls!” said Rasmus.
“Yes, balls indeed. However, I have formulated a plan that will ensure our escape.”
“I’m all ears,” said Rasmus.
“You’re going to hide in this room, and I’m going to distract them and lure them away.”
“Why don’t we kill them with spells and crossbows?” asked Rasmus, eager to test his mettle.
“If there are three of them and if the lich is close by, we may find that discretion is a more favourable response than a head-on scrap with numbers unknown,” replied Viddo. “I am sure I can get past them and lead them a merry dance, whereupon I will lose them and return here once more to collect you.”
“What if they can see the trail of our life energy as we have previously speculated? You would never manage to escape them.”
“This is no time to discuss such matters - let me worry about that if it happens. Now, quickly, get yourself up that chimney!”
Rasmus wasn’t a gambling man, but if he’d had one copper piece and was looking for a long-odds wager, he’d have bet that Viddo had contrived his plan purely to get the wizard up the chimney.
With no time to argue, he hurried towards the filthy opening in the opposite wall. “I’ll get you for this, you bastard!” he said with an evil look at Viddo. The thief had an expression of hurt innocence, which didn’t fool Rasmus for a moment.
“Shut up with your moaning and climb. Don’t forget to shut off your light spell,” said Viddo. “I’d hoped for a bit of thanks for my sacrifice.”
At this stage, Rasmus could hear the clashing sound of heavy metal boots, which echoed along the corridor. The wizard crouched and then crawled into the fireplace. With a wriggle, he got himself upright, shuddering when he felt a shower of soot particles cascade down the back of his robes.
“There are hand and footholds,” whispered Viddo.
“Yes, there are,” grumped Rasmus. He was too late for his grumblings to reach uninterested ears – with the faintest of rustlings, Viddo was gone.
Alone in the chimney, the wizard shuffled his way upwards, trying his best not to dislodge any more clumps of grime, which seemed to get thicker the higher he went. After a minute, he heard metal footsteps close by in the room beneath. He froze, becoming utterly still in order that the noise of falling soot wouldn’t alert the creature close by. There was silence for a time, before the footsteps resumed. Their volume receded rapidly, and soon all was quiet again. Rasmus climbed a little further, discovering that the chimney did indeed taper, which limited his ability to climb higher. Luckily, there was a narrow ledge on the rock here, albeit covered in a thick layer of soot. Rasmus sat on this ledge and used his legs to prop himself in place. Fifteen feet above the floor of the room below, he settled down to wait. He wasn’t sure how long it would be until Viddo returned, but he knew the thief was thorough in his work and was confident that he would lead his pursuers as far away as he dared and then make good his escape.
Two hours later, it was a weary thief that crept into the room in which he’d left the wizard hiding. He felt exhilarated at the chase, having led all three dread knights and a smattering of smaller, weaker undead through corridors both familiar and unknown. During the chase, he’d made notes of the layout and had found something of great interest that he was looking forward to telling Rasmus about. It had been tricky to lose all of them and he’d had to use two of his precious crossbow bolts to kill a rapidly-moving creature with claws and fangs of a type that he’d never seen before. It hadn’t ventured close enough to attack him and had kept its distance, presumably with the intention of leading other creatures to the thief’s location. A couple of bolts in the throat had put paid to its mischief.
Viddo poked a head up the chimney. “Rasmus?” he whispered. There was no reply. He squinted into the darkness, suddenly concerned. There was a shape up there, but it wasn’t moving. “Rasmus!” he whispered again, louder this time. Of words, there were none spoken in reply, but another sound reached the thief’s ears.
“Snoring!” he said. “The bastard has fallen asleep!”
At first, he considered throwing something hard in the wizard’s direction, to give him the rude awakening that he definitely deserved. Then, he reconsidered and instead crawled into the chimney. He climbed upward
s with ease and found Rasmus on his ledge, dead to the world. The ledge was wider than two feet, but less than three. Viddo nudged and pushed until Rasmus was to the far side of it and then squeezed into the gap he’d made. At no point in the process did the wizard give any indication that he’d woken up, though he did snuffle and grunt once or twice.
Shortly, there were two soft snoring noises to heard, though one would have needed to be listening most carefully to hear them. Viddo’s last thought before he fell into a long-overdue slumber was to tell himself how glad he was that he could sleep almost anywhere.
Eighteen
Some hours later, Rasmus popped awake with a start. His legs were stiff and one of them fell quickly into cramp.
“Ooh you bastards!” complained the wizard, before his brain intervened, telling him that he was still in a hazardous location and that just maybe, he should shut his mouth in case there was something dangerous outside the fireplace. Rasmus stifled any further cursing, and did his best to extend his cramped leg, a task made almost impossible by the confines of his makeshift sleeping arrangements.
The sounds of grumbling woke Viddo, who had been dreaming that he’d fallen asleep on the crust of a huge puff-pastry pie. His stomach growled alarmingly, but not before his mouth had told him how dry it was and how keen it was for him to put some water into it.
Rasmus wasn’t overly surprised to note that his friend had returned while he slept, nor that he’d stolen the lion’s share of the ledge. Neither of them spoke, and Viddo dropped lithely down the chimney breast, with hardly a scattering of soot to betray his passage. Seconds later and with considerably less grace and rather more groaning, Rasmus emerged, bringing with him whatever soot he hadn’t dislodged during his initial climb.
