9 Tales From Elsewhere 7

by 9 Tales From Elsewhere

  “What are you doing?”

  He looked down at Helene. The loose white shirt she wore hid the muscular thickness of her arms, but the tight vest accentuated her femininity.

  “I told you something would turn up,” Sean said as he re-settled himself. Taking the rolled parchment from his jerkin, he dropped it on the table in front of her. “Our money problems are over. Five hundred gold pieces will keep us in luxury all winter, not to mention the extra coppers we can pick up from recounting our adventure.”

  Helene stared at him in disbelief. “Are you insane? The Labyrinth of Skarnos is full of extremely nasty creatures who delight in killing people.”

  “Pish and nonsense,” said Sean with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It can’t be any harder than guarding a trader’s convoy from bandits. You didn’t have a problem with that. How’s this different, excepting we get paid a lot more?”

  The rolled parchment lay on the wooden tabletop between Helene’s hands where she regarded it as someone would a deadly viper. Eventually she lifted her eyes to meet his. “You are serious aren’t you?”

  Dispensing with his usual flippancy Sean reached across and covered her silky smooth hands with his. “Yes, I’m perfectly serious. We’ve trained with all sorts of weapons. We acquitted ourselves well during the attack on Marco’s caravan. We’re intelligent, talented, and experienced. Give me one reason why we can’t do this? I’m under no illusions about how hard it’ll be, but I know we have what it takes. What do you say, Helene? You have to risk something to gain something.” He kept his gaze levelled on her, watching the small motions of her face as she considered.

  Helene shook her head and sighed. “I bet I’m going to regret this, but you’re on.” Leaning across the table, Sean pulled her forward and kissed her full on the lips. She pushed him away with such force his chair almost upended again. “Watch it pointy ears,” she said a blush infusing her cheeks.

  Sean stretched his arms over his head and smiled a mischievous grin. “What ho, fair maiden, doth thou withhold thy favours from all noble knights?”

  “If you’re a noble knight, I’m a horse’s dick,” said Helene wiping a sleeve across her lips.

  Arching an eyebrow Sean replied, “And where would a lady of your refinement pick up such language?”

  Helene stood and clapped a hand to Sean’s shoulder. “Stop pissing about and let’s go. I want a good night’s sleep if we’re going after this book tomorrow.” She turned towards the tavern, ducked beneath its low lintel and disappeared within its fetid interior.

  Sean followed, but didn’t make it to the stairs and the second floor room the rented. The smell of malted beer forced him to a table and his hand into his coin pouch.

  “Helene, look at this chain-mail. Isn’t it incredible? It’ll stop a dagger dead.” Sean danced deeper into the armourer’s store. There was so much to see and so many choices to make. Each new piece of armour or weapon he inspected offered so many possibilities for mayhem. He felt like a boy who had just discovered how a slingshot worked.

  He took little notice the frowning armourer behind the counter. That was Helene’s task. She had persuaded him to let her purchase their weapons, something about haggling being instinctual for women. He hadn’t argued too hard as it meant he could spend more time assessing the weapons.

  A sword with an almandine pommel and bronze quillion hid behind some work-a-day short swords. Sean drew it from hiding. “Beautiful, a double-edged broad sword. Feel that balance. I could cleave a cow in two with this. Huzzah!”

  Sean made a wide slash with the sword. His imaginary cow parted cleanly whilst his actual swing nearly destroyed a display of halberds.

  The armourer glanced at Sean, but before the man could utter a complaint, Sean slipped behind the counter and wrapped a comradely arm around his broad shoulders.

  “We are going to be the greatest,” he said, “And you’ll be able to tell people how we bought our first weapons here. We are going to be the most legendary legends of all time.”

  “And I have a dragon to keep my forge alight,” he replied shaking off Sean’s arm.

  “Really? Isn’t that a bit dangerous? Would you like us to slay it for you?” Sean was no longer listening to the man, the gleaming battle-axes ranged on the back wall held his interest.

  As he was reaching for an axe’s handle he felt a sudden sharp pain in the tip of his ear. It pulled him back around the front of the counter.

  “I thought we’d agreed to let me do the purchasing?” Helene hissed into his throbbing ear.

  “What?” Sean asked bewildered. His gaze flicked between Helene and the armourer until he noticed both their scowls. “Sorry, was I interrupting?” A gleam of light in the corner caught his attention. “Wow, is that Mithras armour?” With wraith like skill he slipped Helene’s grip and dashed off to investigate.

  After admiring his reflection for a heartbeat, Sean became less enamoured with the armour. It looked like the Mithras armour of legend, but he had no way to check its veracity. The last follower of Mithras had been killed in battle three hundred years ago, which somewhat sullied the armours invincible reputation.

  The sheathed sword resting next to it now looked more promising than the armour itself. Sean slipped it free.

  “Sean, were done,” Helene called from the counter.

  The dim light in the shop made the blade glow like it was on fire. “This blade has got to be enchanted,” Sean said. He held it at eye level and peered along its edge. “Keen as a newly wed.”

  “Sean, it’s time to go. Get the sack.” Helene was now sounding impatient.

  Sean sauntered over to the counter slaying invisible foes all the way. “Lay this aside for me, my man,” he said slapping the blade onto the wooden counter top, “I’ll be back for it after our little jaunt.”

  With arms folded across his barrel chest the armourer snorted his opinion of Sean’s statement.

  “Just get the sack,” Helene said. She picked up an iron bound wooden buckler lying next to it and headed for the door.

  The sack was heavier than Sean expected and he grunted as he hefted it to his shoulder. “How much armour did you get? There’re only two of us you know?”

  “Stop moaning, this was all your idea,” Helene said.

  Outside the shop Sean pulled up short as Helene stopped and took measure of the sun. It was midway up the sky.

  “We don’t have time to go back to our room to suit up, not if we want to do the labyrinth today. We’ll stop outside town somewhere to put our kit on.” Helene headed towards the town’s west gate as abruptly as she’d stopped. The road from there travelled into the forest, and then into the Skarnos mountains.

  Having had the decision made for him, Sean decided not to argue it. He sensed it was one of those times when he had no hope of winning. The sack clanged as he adjusted its weight on his back. “Aren’t you going to help?” he asked.

  “No. You’re doing a fine job. I wouldn’t want to interfere.” Helene quickened her pace to keep ahead him.

  Sean hurled a string of invective after her, but to no avail. She didn’t break her stride. The sack wasn’t as heavy as his barrage of hexes and curses claimed. He had more than enough breath to issue his profanities, but it was the principle that mattered.

  An hour’s walk from town, where the wheat fields gave way to woodlands, Helene stepped from the road into the shade of a giant oak and waited.

  Though he had only been a dozen paces behind Sean adopted the aggrieved expression of a person who had toiled for hours longer. He threw the sack of weaponry at Helene’s feet forcing her to jump back to avoid a crushed foot. “Thank you so very much for all your help.”

  She smiled sweetly at him. “I was just trying to ensure you maintained muscle tone.”

  Sean kneeled next to the sack and bowed his head over the knot so she wouldn’t see his frown slip into a grin. The short piece of hemp that tied the sack shut was no match for Sean’s slender fingers. He soon h
ad it undone allowing him to see what Helene had purchased. “Hey, where’s my chain mail?”

  “We can’t afford it. This,” said Helene nudging the sack with her boot, “Cost us everything we had. Just count yourself lucky we had enough for both weapons and armour.”

  Sean upended the sack, spilling its contents on the ground. He was looking for anything that gleamed. He picked up a cuirass and ran his hand over the tanned leather. It was rough, covered in a spider-web of splits and cracks from lack-lustre maintenance. The sword was little better. Testing his thumb on the edge he was pleased to find it sharp, but the blade was dull metal, even the hilt.

  This wasn’t how he’d envisaged his first step towards fame and fortune, but with the money they’d receive from Alyonsius he would buy something much better. He might even go back and take a chance on the Mithras armour. Five hundred gold coins was more money than he and Helene made in a year. He slipped the cuirass over his head and shrugged to settle it comfortably. “Do me up,” he said raising his arms so Helene could reach the clasps down his sides.

  With the clasps closed Sean stretched and twisted, lunged and parried to test his manoeuvrability. “I don’t have the kind of freedom and flexibility I’m used to,” he complained.

  “You could always leave the armour here,” Helene said. Lifting her own arms, she smiled at him and asked, “Are you going to do me?”

  “Anytime,” Sean said with a grin and began fastening the clasps on her armour. As the last one clicked into place, he stood and slapped her between the shoulders. “All set?”

  “I guess so.” Helene’s face was paler than usual.

  “Come on, don’t back out on me now. We can do this. I know we can. This is our beginning. We are good, and we’ll get better.”

  Sean handed Helene a sheathed sword, which she strapped on. After strapping on his, he stooped to pick up the buckler. Then side by side, they marched along the forest road towards the Skarnos Mountains.

  “Thank the Gods we’re here,” Sean said as he leaned his sword against a birch’s trunk and dropped his buckler to the ground. “I’m beginning to cook in this leather.”

  “Do you have a death wish?” asked Helene. Her eyes darted between patches of shadow while her hand rested on her sword hilt. “We arrive where the nasties are and you throw away your weapons.”

  “Relax, these are only the foothills.” Sean removed the stopper from his canteen and splashed water onto his face before taking a long draught. “The labyrinth is much higher in the mountains and none of its denizens would venture this far down. When we find the labyrinth, that’s when the fun really begins.”

  Sean peered out from under the shade of the birch. “It’s not quite midday yet. We have plenty of time. Let’s take a little break here, recover from the hike, and then go find the labyrinth. Piece of cake.”

  “I’m not hungry.”

  “What?” Sean turned to Helene. Her back was to him and she was scanning the woods surrounding them. She had her sword drawn and was advancing on a shrub. He was about to ask what she was doing when he noticed the shrub’s lower leaves rustle. He tensed and reached for his sword, senses straining for the snap of a twig or the rotten stench of an ogre’s breath.

  Helene lunged, her blade sliding through the heart of the shrub. A ball of dirty white streaked from the bottom.

  “Oh, well done Helene,” said Sean, “You saved me from the dreaded fluffy bunny.” He sat by his untouched sword and rested against the black and silver tree trunk. “Will you relax? Sit down for five minutes, that’s all. We can discuss how we’ll tackle this labyrinth and then go to it.”

  Helene re-sheathed her sword, but continued to watch the shrubs and shadows that surrounded them.

  Picking up a stick from the dry leaf litter Sean started doodling in the dirt between his feet. “After you went to bed I met this bloke in the tavern who gave me some great tips for surviving the labyrinth.” Jumping to his feet he cast the stick aside and started pacing. “It’s going to be great. This labyrinth is simplicity itself. The guy said it lies five hundred paces to the east of the main road. The entrance is hidden beneath an overhanging rock shaped like a dragon’s claw.”

  “Sean,” Helene interrupted, her tone measured and patient, “This bloke you met in the tavern, you didn’t happen to buy him any drinks did you?”

  “Yes, but it was money well spent. Not only did he tell me exactly where to find the labyrinth, but also where in the labyrinth Koton’s book of magic is stored. It’s on the third and deepest level inside an ironbound chest. The chest hides inside a concealed floor cavity in a great hall. A rug and large chair sit atop the cavity. Those few drinks have saved us hours of fruitless searching. We can go straight to the third level, snatch the book from its hidey hole, and be away in time for supper.”

  Helene massaged the sides of her temple with her fingers. “Didn’t it ever occur to you that the guy was just making it up to get a few free drinks? If his information is so damn good why isn’t he going after the book himself?”

  “Give me a little credit. I’m not a complete fool.” Helene rolled her eyes. “Stop that. And as it happens I did ask him.”

  “So what did he say?”

  “He said he was too old, and he certainly looked it. Grey haired, gap toothed, bowed legs, and he smelled funny, in that way old people do. He really was the full kit. If I ever start to look like that, please kill me. Anyway, he said it needed young fit brave fighters to dare the labyrinth. He wanted to help us so he might get a mention in the tales the bards will sing of us later.”

  Helene sighed and buried her face in her hands. “We’re going to die. I never should have agreed to this.” She raised her head and looked Sean in the face. “Perhaps we should call it off, go back to town.”

  Sean dropped to his knees in front of her. Taking her hands in his he rubbed his thumbs over them, easing the tension he felt there. “We can’t quit now. We stand on the brink of greatness. All we need is a little resolve. Besides, we don’t have any money left. You spent everything we had on this stuff.” Sean waved a slender hand to encompass their swords and armour. “If we go back now we’re broke. We have to succeed.”

  “If we live through this, I’m going to kill you.”

  “That’s the spirit,” said Sean rising to his feet and pulling Helene with him.

  “Okay. Which way did the soak in the tavern say we had to go?”

  “Five hundred paces east of the road. Come on.” Sean grabbed up his shield and sword and began pacing off into the forest. The Skarnos Mountains rose steeply on his left.

  “Look there it is,” Sean cried, dashing towards a rock outcropping. “It’s just like the bloke in the tavern told me.”

  A spire of granite from higher in the Skarnos Mountains had tumbled down its side to become wedged between two boulders. The point of the spire jutted out and downwards overshadowing a fissure in the mountain’s side.

  Helene stood back from the outcrop and eyed it critically. “This doesn’t look anything like a dragon’s claw, unless it chews its talons.”

  “Where’s your sense of style. You can’t very well say the great Labyrinth of Skarnos lies beneath a nothing overhang of rock. That sort of thing simply isn’t done.”

  “It’d be accurate,” said Helene.

  Sean ignored her remark and peered beneath the overhang. “I can see some stairs leading down into a tunnel. Come on Helene, fame and fortune beckon.”

  “Sean, wait,” Helene said as she reached out and grabbed his arm stopping him from bolting down the tunnel. She turned him to face her, her hands resting on his shoulders. “What we’re about to do is dangerous. I need you to take this seriously. This isn’t make-believe. There are creatures down there who will try to kill us. Do you understand?”

  Sean sighed and placed a hand over Helene’s. “I know what we are doing. I know the dangers. Have a little faith in me, Helene. I may act the fool, but that doesn’t make me one.”

 
“Sorry, Sean,” Helene smiled, “I should know you better than that by now, but you play the fool so well I sometimes forget.”

  “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.” He drew his sword. “Shall we go?”

  After taking a deep breath, Helene drew hers. Together they ducked beneath the overhanging rock and started down the stairs.

  The stairs were deep, designed for creatures with a larger step. They descended cautiously. The tunnel at the bottom was flat and even. It was gloomy, but not dark. Pitch covered torches burnt in sconces spaced at five-metre intervals along the tunnel. The vaulted roof was twice as high as the tunnel was wide.

  “There’s got to be something down here keeping these torches lit,” Sean said. He kept his voice a whisper but it sounded deafening in the still dry air. Whoever kept the torches lit was fastidious about their labyrinth. The flagstone flooring was clear of grit and there was not a cobweb in sight.

  The labyrinth began with twenty metres of featureless stone passage before branching at a T-junction. With their swords held in front of them Helene and Sean advanced, their feet silent on the flagstones. This was both good and bad. Good, as no-one would hear them coming, bad as they wouldn’t hear anyone coming. It was an even playing field, when what Sean wanted was an unfair advantage.

  They crept up on the junction each hugging a different side of the passage. The stonework they pressed against was of the highest standard. The face of each stone was smooth, though not polished, and the seams between blocks wouldn’t accommodate a knife-edge.

  A metre before the junction Helene gestured for Sean to stop. She looked across to him and pointed to the branching tunnels. A shrug indicated she didn’t know how to proceed.

  Sean glanced from one tunnel to the other, considering. If they moved any nearer the junction one or the other of them would be visible from the cross passage. As he saw it there was only one option, a double front. After all, bold choices created legends. Raising a hand he pointed to Helene and the tunnel on her left. After tapping his chest he pointed to the right tunnel. Finally, he held up three fingers.