They weren't really helping Atock run; it was more like they were dragging the big man. His legs were moving, but without their help, he would have collapsed.
Behind them, Flare could hear the glee in the cries of the goblins as they closed in. There were taunts and threats and promises of vile things in those voices, and Flare tried not to listen to them. He also resisted the urge to keep looking over his shoulder to see how close they were. It really didn't matter how close the goblins were, because if the goblins caught them then they were dead. He had to just concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other, and as fast as possible.
Philip and Flare both stumbled at the same time, both of them tripped and fell head over heels. Of course, Atock tumbled over with them.
Flare flipped twice and landed hard on his side. Ignoring the pain running up and down his right arm and leg, he quickly climbed to his feet and drew his sword. “Philip, take Atock and keep going.” Gulping for air, he looked around to see what had tripped them and was surprised to see they had reached the base of the mountain. They had tripped on some of the stones of the road. The road may have been smooth once upon a time, but it most certainly wasn't now.
Philip's response was to draw his sword as well. “I'm not leaving you. You wouldn't leave me.” He too was out of breath.
Glancing over at Philip, Flare wanted to shout at the soldier, but he found that he couldn't. Philip was bent over, his hands resting on his knees, gasping for breath, but he held his sword in his right hand, with the tip resting in the dirt. The overall affect was only slightly dampened by him leaning on the sword.
Nodding, Flare turned back to the goblins, and froze. There were fifteen to twenty of the brutes less than ten yards away from him. He hadn't realized they were that close. They had stopped still just on the edge of where the ground starting sloping upwards and they were watching the guardians.
“What are they doing?” Philip asked.
“Come and see,” the largest of the goblins called out in a deep guttural voice. “Swords not save you.”
Flare and Philip glanced at each other, and as one they started backing away from the goblins. Flare didn't stop until he almost tripped over Atock. Keeping his sword pointing at the goblins, he leaned over and pulled Atock to his feet. He was still woozy, but at least he was standing on his own.
“We offer quick death,” the goblin called out. “If follow the road, will regret it.”
Suddenly Flare understood. “You're scared of the ruins!” He burst out, without thinking.
The goblin roared at him and took a step forward, hate showing in his eyes. He stopped, though and quickly took a step back. “Go on, then.” Without another word, the goblins began moving back away from the mountain. All the time the goblins retreated, they watched the guardians.
They approached the ruins cautiously shortly after mid-day, but their wariness proved unwarranted. The only thing that moved was the dust that the mountain winds stirred up. And the mountain winds were blowing, and Flare pulled his cloak tighter around his neck. He was sore and tired, and his body was covered in bruises from the long run in the dark, but he was alive and it felt great.
They had spent several hours in a small hallow on the side of the road. Melting snows had washed away the edge of the road, and the stones had collapsed in a heap. Where the dirt on the side of the road had been washed away, a cramped sort of cave had been formed. There was a tiny entrance that had required them to get down on their knees, and then crawl in. It had been cramped, but they had felt safe enough for all three of them to sleep.
Flare had been worried about Atock, afraid that he had seriously hurt his head, but although dazed, Atock seemed to be okay. He spat blood for about an hour, having bit his tongue when he stumbled, but at least he seemed alert.
He had been sure that he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he had fallen asleep within moments of lying down. The light peeking through the small opening had been what had woken Flare up.
The fortress had once been magnificent, that much was evident from the crumbling remains. It was also obvious that it had been a lot more than just a fortress; this had once been a splendid looking city, as well. It most certainly did not compare to Telur, but what this city had lacked in accessibility and size, it had made up in defensibility. There was one main road that led to the city and that was the road they were traveling. It curved up the side of the mountain, with the rest of the mountain rocky and steep; it was plain that no army would have snuck up on the city defenders. The road had fallen into a bad state of repair, with sections having washed out along the sides.
Approaching the city, Flare could see the huge holes the demons had knocked in the walls. Long sections of the wall had collapsed, but it was impossible to tell if it had happened when the city was attacked, or if the collapse was more recent. Dirt and dust had collected up beside the walls and buildings, and resembled snow drifts, to the point where some of the piles of stone were completely buried.
“Look at that!” Philip called from behind Flare.
Flare and Atock both turned to see what Philip was indicating. He was pointing back the way that they had come, back towards the valley floor. There was a huge semi-circle on the ground; it stretched for miles, with the center being the base of the mountain. At first, Flare thought it was something growing, but he quickly realized that it was just the opposite; it was a lack of anything growing.
“What could cause that?” Philip asked.
Atock shrugged, but Flare thought he had the answer. “I read in the books that Osturlius ordered the demons to sow the ground with salt.”
“Salt!” Philip exclaimed, looking confused.
“Of course,” Atock said, nodding his head. “I've heard of that, but I have never seen the aftermath.”
“But why?”
“It's to keep anyone from being able to grow crops down there,” Flare explained. “If you can't grow any crops, then it's awfully hard to support a city up here.”
Atock nodded again, “The valley floor was probably covered with villages that farmed the land to provide food for the city. I guess Osturlius felt the best way to stop this fortress from being rebuilt, was to take away its food supply.” Atock said, studying the valley floor. “It's hard to believe that the salt still prevents things from growing. I mean, it's been over two thousand years.”
“I guess magic could have also been involved,” Flare added after a moment. “Whatever it was, it certainly was effective.” Turning back towards the ruins, he resumed their slow ascent of the mountain. “Come on. No reason to delay any more.”
The closer they got to the city, the louder the winds seemed to howl around them. The temperature was certainly dropping, and the dark grey clouds in the sky seemed ominous. It seemed a good bet that it would snow before the next morning.
They slowly moved closer to the ruins, the road leveling off as it approached what had been the city gates. There was little left of them now, the walls and gates were missing at this point. The walls on the left side started up again about a hundred yards from the road, but the right side it was even farther, perhaps as far as two hundred yards. Buildings had been built up against the city walls, but whatever had taken out the walls here, had also carved a path of destruction through the nearby buildings. There was little more than rubble, and they had to pick their way through. Small half walls were all that remained of the buildings that had once stood this close to the gate.
The homes and shops had been built out of bricks and small stones, with the roofs apparently made from wood. The buildings that still stood were open to the sky, their roofs having decayed a long time ago. There were very few buildings where all four walls still stood; most of the structures had suffered some type of damage over the years.
“What now?” Philip asked as he stopped and looked around. He didn't look overly excited to be here.
Flare also stopped, and climbed up on a large stone. Looking forward, the city seemed to run sligh
tly uphill to the side of the mountain, where the mountain rose steeply into the sky. “Let's go toward the mountain.” He said pointing. “It's got to be the oldest part of the city, and perhaps we can find something that way.” He hopped back down from the stone and wiped the dust off of his hands.
Philip looked disgusted. “Perhaps we can find something that way.” He repeated. “Didn't any of those books you read tell you anything about what we are looking for?”
Flare shrugged and shook his head, “No, just that the catacombs are supposed to lie under the city.” Looking ahead of them, the buildings were more complete than those here at the gates, but they all still looked damaged. And any number of things could be hiding in those buildings.
“Under the city! What if we have come this whole way and can't find the damn sword?”
Atock sensed that Philip was about to settle in one of his moods, and he acted quickly to cut off any argument. “Well, let's not jump to any conclusions. Give it a day or so before we start worrying.”
Flare's jaw had tightened at Philip's words, but he took a deep breath and motioned toward the mountain. “Come on. Let's find a place that we can use for a campsite, just in case.” He glanced at the sky again. It was getting darker, and it was only mid-day. It definitely would be snowing soon; he shivered again at the thought.
Late in the afternoon, they finally were approaching the far side of the city. It had been slow going, due to the piles of stones and rubble, and physically exhausting, although some of that might have been due to their lack of sleep.
The far side of the city was without walls, as the steep mountain side rising up from the plateau had been its protection. The homes and buildings on this side of the city were on a larger scale than the smaller ones that they had first passed near the city gates. This had obviously been the richer part of the city, and right up around the mountainside, were mansions, and that was the only way to describe them. Huge marble arches and columns lay in broken heaps surrounding the estates of their former owners. Here and there, small weeds had pushed through the stone blocks of the road, but the weeds were few and far between. Ice covered small puddles that lay in the shadows, and it felt like the temperature was dropping quickly.
Flare was beginning to have doubts, similar to Philip's, when he climbed over a collapsed portion of a house, and promptly fell ten feet or so through the road. He landed hard and rolled, coming to a stop on his back, choking on dust. He lay there for a moment, trying to catch his breath. The only thing that saved him, had been the large pile of sand that had collected under the hole he fell through, otherwise, he probably would have broken both of his legs.
“Flare! Flare! Are you all right?” He heard Atock and Philip calling to him from up above.
“I'm fine,” He finally managed to say. “I've just had a bit of a nasty fall.”
“Where are you?” Atock called down, his head visible as he looked down through the hole. “Is it a cellar or something?”
Where had he fallen? He looked around, trying to get his bearings. He was in what looked to be an underground covered road. It ran the same route as the road above followed, but this underground road had been made of hard baked bricks. Everything was made of the bricks, the walls, the ceilings, and even the floor. There didn't seem to be any other rooms or doors off of the road, at least not where he could see them, and he was stumped as to what it was. The center of the underground road was lower, as the edges sloped downward to the center. The hole above seemed to be the only source of light, and the darkness swallowed the road about twenty yards away. “I'm not sure what it was. It looks like an underground road, and it seems to follow the road above.” Flare climbed to his feet as spoke, and while trying to keep an eye out for danger, he began gathering up his pack and everything that had fallen out it.
“We'll be right there,” Philip called down, and sure enough, Philip was soon being lowered down through the hole. He clung to the rope with a death grip, but he paid it little or no attention, as he scanned the surroundings for danger. He let go of the rope as soon as his feet touched the floor and quickly pulled open his pack and retrieved a torch. Within moments, he had the torch lit, and handed it over to Flare. He then started digging in his pack for a second one.
Flare could hear Atock climbing down from above, but he didn't wait. Instead, he moved forward, looking in confusion at the strange passageway. The more he saw of it, the more it looked like an underground road. There were other passages that connected in, but no doors or rooms.
With a thud, Atock dropped to the floor. By now, Philip had the second torch lit and it flickered, making the shadows seem to move.
“Any idea what this might have been?” Flare asked, rejoining the other two.
Atock took the torch from Philip, and began looking around. “Yeah, I think so.”
Philip and Flare looked at each other, and then toward Atock. “You do?” Flare asked, the surprise obvious in his voice.
Atock grinned, “Yeah. I think it was some type of sewer system. They probably threw their waste and garbage in, and routinely ran water through to clean things out.”
Flare nodded, “Makes sense.” It was kind of awe inspiring actually. The amount of planning and work that went into the construction of the sewer was astonishing.
“Do you think this is the catacombs?” Philip asked, seeming not even to notice the engineering marvel that surrounded them.
“No.” Flare answered, shaking his head. “I don't. But, I imagine that we can find a way in through the sewer.”
Atock pointed along the sewer, “This is the way toward the mountain. Do you want to continue this way?”
In answer, Flare nodded. “Come on.”
Several hours later, they stopped to rest. In these tunnels, it always seemed to be night. Occasionally, there would be a hole in the roof, and the guardians could see the sky above. If not for that, they wouldn't have known what time it was.
They were all tired. All of the passages looked alike, and they seemed endless. They had kept walking for hours, trying to keep going in their initial direction, but it was hard to tell which direction was which. In several places, the tunnel had actually collapsed, and they had to backtrack and find another way around.
None of them liked the idea of camping in the middle of a passageway, but after a while, exhaustion won out.
Flare volunteered for the middle watch, but he didn't think that he would be able to sleep, worried like he was. But as soon as he lay down, he was asleep. He was shook roughly awake by Philip, when it was his turn to watch. Later, when it was Atock's turn to stand guard, Flare promptly fell back to sleep.
Philip and Flare awoke the next morning, or at least what they assumed was the morning, Atock was warming up some old stale biscuits and pieces of salted meat.
Flare took the offered food without comment. He was sure the food was decent, but they had been eating the same thing for weeks, and he would have greatly appreciated a change. He ate slowly, without much enjoyment.
Atock, who had been tending the fire, settled back next to Flare. “I went exploring on my watch.” Flare's eyebrows shot up, and Atock quickly added, “I stayed close by, so that I could see the campsite.” Flare nodded and Atock continued, “There's a crack in the wall up ahead that slants downward. It might be our entrance to the catacombs.”
“How big is this crack?” Philip asked moving closer.
Atock shrugged, “Maybe two feet. I couldn't tell if it narrowed as it went down.”
“Two feet.” Flare repeated. “Doesn't sound too big.”
Atock grinned, “Doesn't look too big either, but it might be a way into the catacombs.”
“Let's clean up camp, and we'll take a look at it.”
'Crack is the right word for it,' Flare thought, looking at the crumbling wall. The crack ran downwards at a steep angle, but it was impossible to see how far it went. “So who wants to go first?” Flare asked. Philip and Atock just stared back at him.
/> Atock was even grinning slightly. “You're thinner than the rest of us.”
Flare groaned, looking back at the crack. He reached in with his torch, trying to see where it went. “It's not even smooth,” He said, to no one in particular. He just knew that he was going to get cut and scraped.
“I guess we could tie a rope to your foot.” Atock said thoughtfully, “At least that way we could pull you out, if something bad happened.”
“Great,” Flare groaned, dropping his pack on the ground. He pulled a long sleeve cloak on, hoping that he could protect his arms from getting all cut up. Then holding a torch out in front, he slowly eased himself into the opening. He paused there for a moment, while Atock tied the rope to his right foot, and then started slowly moving forward.
It was slow going, as the crack was awfully narrow, and it seemed to be getting tighter. Within moments, Flare's hands were bleeding and sore from the rough rock of the crevice. He moved downwards at a slight angle. It wasn't really like crawling, because the crevice wasn't high enough to crawl. Instead, it was more of a balancing himself with his hands. Sometimes, he had to pull himself, to get himself moving. Other times, he had to push with his hands, to keep from moving too fast.
The torch in his right hand didn't help either. He held it horizontal, with the flame a foot or so in front of his face. His knuckles on his right hand were already skinned from the rock.
Flare had gone about ten feet downwards, when his hands slipped and he slid headfirst downwards. He grabbed frantically, his hands aching in protest. He almost dropped the torch, and the flame nearly burnt his face. He regained his grip on the torch quickly, and the rope around his ankle pulled him up short.
“Are you okay?” Atock called down from up above.
His heart pounding, Flare turned his head, trying to see back the way he had come. His view was blocked, but still breathing heavy, he shouted, “Yeah. I just lost my grip.”
Ossendar: Book Two of the Resoration Series Page 46
