by Tonke Dragt
“You would think nobody ever comes here,” Piak remarked. “But they must, as the road is so well maintained.”
“But what is there to maintain?” said Tiuri. “Nothing grows here.”
Piak pointed at a nearby slope. “Look, a load of stones have tumbled down over there,” he said. “Do you see them? But there’s not a single one on the road itself. Someone’s neatly stacked them up on the roadside. Though,” he continued, “it could have been done a while ago, I suppose.”
“That’s true,” said Tiuri. “But you’re right. It’s likely that people often pass this way. And we may well meet some of them…”
“At least the good road means we can make quick progress,” said Piak. “And the lower we go, the easier it’ll be. We should aim to walk at night, too.” He looked around and said anxiously, “I just pray we don’t have any snow.”
Piak’s prayers were heard, and until noon the following day their descent went without incident. It had taken a lot out of them, though, as they’d had to face enemies including cold and exhaustion, fear and thoughts of despair.
That afternoon they saw the first sign of people: a dilapidated mountain cabin close to the road. The hut looked uninhabited, but of course they couldn’t be sure.
“I wouldn’t like to live there,” whispered Piak as they walked by. “There’s no good meadow for grazing and…” He paused.
A shadow moved across the road in front of them. Tiuri and Piak peered up to see an eagle, slowly beating its wings as it flew over. As they looked at each other, they tried to smile.
But that nervous, apprehensive feeling remained.
The day went by and was followed by another night with far too little rest. But the next morning brought a little cheer. It was not as cold, the road was dry, and the landscape became green and more welcoming.
But then something spoiled their good mood. They heard a cry and saw a man standing on a hill, waving at them and beckoning. Not wanting to make him angry or suspicious, they waved back, but then walked on quickly.
“Maybe it was foolish of us,” said Piak, “to be so nervous. He wasn’t even dressed in red. But he was armed. Did you see his bow? I don’t trust anyone around here. How about you?”
“Me neither,” replied Tiuri. “If we could, I’d take a different road.”
“There must be other paths at this height,” said Piak. “But we can’t take them…”
“Or we’ll miss the gong,” Tiuri said, completing his sentence for him. He watched as the man walked away.
A little later, they passed another mountain cabin; there was definitely someone living in this one. Two grumpy-looking men were standing in front of it. They eyed Tiuri and Piak suspiciously, and didn’t respond to their friendly greeting. As Tiuri and Piak walked past, though, one of the men approached them.
“Hey,” he said, “wait a moment!” He was armed with a bow and arrows and may well have been the same man they’d seen earlier. He and his companion were shabbily dressed. Perhaps he was a hunter who eked out a living up here. But the two friends did not like the look of him.
“Is there a problem?” Tiuri asked in a calm tone.
“What are you doing here?” came the question in return.
“We are walking along the road,” replied Tiuri coolly, “and heading down the mountain, as you can see.”
The man looked him up and down, as if weighing up an opponent. Then he said gruffly, “Oh, no offence meant! I wish you a good journey. Be careful you don’t take a tumble.”
He turned around, walked back to his friend and the two of them disappeared into the hut.
“Phew!” said Piak quietly. “That’s him dealt with.” He didn’t speak the thought that these men could quite easily follow them, or take other paths and wait for them somewhere down below. But he held tightly onto the stick in his hand, and Tiuri reached for the hilt of his sword.
3 THE WAY TO THE VORGÓTA GONG
Across the mountains, then down below.
Wide path through forest of pine.
“This must be it!” whispered Piak, as the road led them between tall pines. The day was already drawing to a close and it was dark beneath the trees, and not the most pleasant of places to walk. There was a hushed silence and their footsteps were muffled by the pine needles underfoot. But high above them the wind whistled in the treetops.
“I’ll be glad when we can take that right turn that Tehalon told us about,” said Piak.
Me too, thought Tiuri. He could hardly believe they’d be able to complete their journey without any opposition from the enemy. Eviellan would surely be guarding the road in the western part of the mountains, too.
That night they did not keep walking for long, but spent it in the forest, some way back from the road. And yet they could not rest properly, because they had to take it in turns to sleep and neither of them could settle. Twice they thought they heard something, but no one came near. At sunrise they went on their way and soon left the wood behind.
The road here was not nearly as well maintained. It twisted and turned even more than it had high up in the mountains, and every turn revealed a different view. They caught glimpses of the flat land at the foot of the mountains – the east of the Kingdom of Unauwen. It looked inhospitable and was covered almost entirely in forest. But their destination could not be far now.
How much longer? thought Tiuri. He could not shake off the feeling that they were being followed.
They passed streams and green ravines and sunlit meadows. They heard water flowing and, as the sound grew louder, they thought of the words Tehalon had taught them.
Take a right turn into the valley deep
where flow the Twin Cascades.
The rushing became a roar… and there they were: two waterfalls plummeting alongside each other down a steep cliff before joining to form one river below, which flowed to the west.
“That’s it! The Twin Cascades!” said Piak excitedly. “Now quickly, down into the valley.”
It took them a while to find a path that led down below. The track was very narrow, and almost entirely overgrown. The valley, too, was full of lush growth, and the stream they had to follow danced through the vegetation, splashing high over white stones.
There was no path as such, but it was not too difficult to walk alongside the water, hopping from one bank to the other.
At around midday, they had the stream to their right; the side of the valley rose up steeply beside them, and their path took a turn to the left. Tiuri was walking in front; he was warm and tired, but he’d decided not to rest until they’d reached the place where Tehalon’s instructions had promised they would find a sign. He turned a corner; perhaps he would see it now…
Follow the stream to where it disappears…
In a flash, he caught sight of a man standing on the slope ahead… Then he felt a hard blow to his chest, followed by an intense, stabbing pain.
And Tiuri fell, struck by an arrow.
Piak did not realize what had happened. He raced to his friend’s side and saw, to his horror, an arrow sticking out of Tiuri’s chest; it was just under his left shoulder. Then he heard a swish – and a second arrow tore past his ear.
“Run!” gasped Tiuri. He pulled himself up and knelt on the ground, supporting himself with one hand and clutching at his wound with the other. “Take cover!”
Now Piak saw the man on the slope; he was aiming his bow to take another shot.
Piak ducked, but the arrow stopped some way ahead of him, quivering among the stones. Gently, he put his arm around Tiuri. His friend was alive – thank God! – but he had to get him to safety… back around the corner…
“Get away, away…” Tiuri panted.
“Can you walk?” asked Piak, holding him around the waist. “Lean on me.” All of his attention was on his friend and he didn’t dare to breathe again until they were beyond the reach of the enemy’s arrows.
Tiuri had sunk down against the rocks, his eyes closed and
his face as white as a sheet. Fear gripped Piak when he saw the cruel, feathered arrow, and the trickle of blood seeping through Tiuri’s clothes.
But then his friend looked up at him and whispered, “Make sure that… that he doesn’t… hit you.”
“He can’t hit us here,” said Piak. “But you…”
Tiuri slowly turned to inspect the wound. “I don’t think,” he spoke haltingly, “it’s as bad as it seems…” He tried to sit up straight, and managed to do so with some help from Piak. “Is it sticking out of the other side?” he asked in a whisper.
“No,” said Piak, looking in concern at Tiuri’s face, which was contorted with pain.
Again they heard that familiar swishing sound.
“Look out!” gasped Tiuri. “He’s still there. Leave me…”
“I’m not leaving you here alone,” said Piak. Carefully, he leant his friend back against the rocky slope, then he quickly crept down the path to locate their enemy. He was still in the same place, with his bow, but he was no longer looking in their direction. And then he turned, walked away and disappeared from sight. Piak did not take the time to wonder why, but returned to his friend.
“He’s gone,” he said, as he knelt down, wishing he knew more about how to treat this kind of wound. “That arrow…” he began.
“It has to come out,” said Tiuri with a much firmer voice. He grasped the shaft, but his face turned whiter, even his lips. “I… don’t dare,” he whispered. “I think it has barbs.”
Piak remembered the arrow he’d just seen on the ground. “You’re right,” he said. He took his friend by the shoulders, as he seemed about to faint.
Tiuri soon recovered a little, though. “I feel better now,” he whispered.
“Do you want me to do it?” Piak asked quietly. “I don’t know if I’ll do it right. But if I have to…”
“No,” said Tiuri after a brief pause. “Not yet. I fear it would only make matters worse. Leave it there for now. It’ll stop the bleeding. Don’t look so frightened! It really is the best thing to do. I’m scared I won’t be able to take another step if I pull it out, and we can’t have that, not now. But…” He gritted his teeth, grasped the arrow more firmly and snapped the shaft with his other hand. “Give me a moment,” he mumbled, leaning forward. “We have to get away from here… Where is he?”
“Disappeared,” said Piak.
“He can’t have done,” said Tiuri weakly.
“No, really. I saw him leave,” said Piak, putting his arm around Tiuri again. “Maybe he ran out of arrows… How are you feeling now?”
“I want to stand up,” said Tiuri.
A few moments later, he was on his feet. Piak held onto his friend, supporting him.
“We have to sound that gong,” said Tiuri, “and so we need to keep going. It’s the only way.”
“It could be nearby,” whispered Piak. “Can you walk?”
“Yes. Shall we? You can let go of me. Honestly, I’ll be fine.” Slowly, Tiuri took a few steps.
“Wait…” said Piak. “I’ll take a look first, to see if there’s any danger.”
“One of us has to get there,” said Tiuri. “Do you understand, Piak? I… Just be careful nothing happens to you too…”
The valley was still just as sunny as before, and there was no sign of anyone around. But the deadly danger must still be lurking and lying in wait – if only they knew where. They couldn’t walk alongside each other and Piak insisted on taking the lead. He kept glancing back to check on his friend and he stayed on the lookout for anything suspicious. Tiuri wasn’t as alert; he needed all his strength and concentration just to keep on walking. But after a while he became more used to it; the stabbing pain eased a little and he began to think he could keep on walking for hours, as long as nothing out of the ordinary happened. The world around him felt unreal somehow, even though the stream still babbled along beside him and the white rocks flashed away. But Piak was real and close to him, and he answered his questioning looks with a weak smile.
Then they found themselves walking in the shade. The stream went to the right and they had to struggle through high undergrowth. Tiuri stepped into a hole and a jolt of pain brought him back to reality. A cliff rose upwards, completely covered in climbing plants. At the bottom was an opening into which the stream disappeared.
Follow the stream to where it disappears.
Then find a sign to show the way.
“Now you need to rest a little,” said Piak. “And I’ll look around for this sign.”
That wasn’t the first thing he did, though; before starting his search, he gave his friend a drink from a cup that he skilfully made by folding a few big leaves together, and gently mopped Tiuri’s damp brow with cold water from the stream.
“Thank you,” said Tiuri, nodding at Piak. Whatever would he have done without his faithful friend? Then he looked around. “I don’t see any sign,” he said. “How about you?”
“Give me a moment, I’ll find it,” replied Piak. He walked around and then disappeared. It was a while before he returned. “There are two paths,” he told Tiuri. “One of them goes up along the side of the valley and then back down; you can see it over there. The other one’s lower down. The first part has been swallowed up by plants, but I found the path again where the rocks begin. Both of the paths go to the west.”
Two paths – one leads to the gong,
hidden song, Vorgóta Gong.
“It has to be one of the two,” he continued. “But I can’t see any sign to indicate which one.”
“Follow the stream to where it disappears…” mumbled Tiuri. He struggled to his feet and walked with his friend to the point where the stream went into the mountain. What kind of sign? What should they be looking for? Would it be a signpost, like the ones beside the paths in the Wild Wood?
“See if you can find a stone,” he said, “with something written on it.” But any stone would be buried beneath all those plants after so many years.
Piak searched everywhere, but after a while he said, disheartened, “I can’t find anything. No stone beside the paths either. But that sign must be here somewhere.”
“Perhaps it’s disappeared,” whispered Tiuri. “The gong was hung such a long, long time ago.” He stared at the cliff and thought, We have to move onwards, and quickly. I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep on going for much longer… Then he said, “Do you think the sign might be carved onto this rock face?”
Piak immediately tried to find out, nimbly clambering up the steep slope and tugging away the plants. He removed the greenery from a few areas, but they couldn’t see anything of interest beneath. Perhaps there had been something there, once upon a time, but it had been erased by the passage of time.
“I give up!” he said, panting as he went back to join his friend. “No, no, I don’t. Let’s think about this…”
But Tiuri shook his head. “Who knows how much time we have?” he whispered. “Whether the gong’s here now or not… both paths go to the west. We’ll each take one of them.”
“I was afraid you’d say that,” mumbled Piak. “Are you sure you can manage it, Tiuri?”
“I’d rather you told me I have to keep going!!” replied Tiuri. “Do you have a better plan?”
“No…” sighed Piak. He took a good look at his friend and frowned at the broken shaft of the arrow.
“It hurts a bit. Of course it does,” said Tiuri, “but see, the wound’s stopped bleeding. Which path shall I take?”
“The lower one,” said Piak immediately. It was the easier one, as far as he could make out.
“Fine. Whoever finds the gong has to sound it. The other one will hear it – and then he can come back, and we’ll see each other again.”
“But…” began Piak.
“I’ll see you at the gong,” Tiuri said, gently interrupting him.
Piak took Tiuri’s hand and shook it firmly. “Good luck!” he said.
Without any more words, they each took a path �
� and so their ways parted.
4 THE VORGÓTA GONG
Tiuri first had to struggle through the undergrowth and the effort made him dizzy. But, once he was through, it was easy enough to find his way. The path descended between two cliffs and then alongside a deep valley. The stream reappeared at that point, flowing in the same direction as he was heading – westwards. He looked down into the valley as little as possible, as the drop was making him even dizzier. Fortunately, the path soon took a turn and descended, twisting and turning through surroundings that became more grey and barren. After a while Tiuri could no longer tell which direction he was going in. The sense of unreality returned, even more strongly than before. It actually made it easier for him to walk quickly, in spite of his wound, as if he were sleepwalking. At a certain point, he had to become more awake and alert, as the path led him into the mountain, and he knew he might stumble or bump into something in the darkness. But before long, he saw light again and, soon after that, he came to a stop.
As he gazed around, he realized he was looking at something quite extraordinary. For a moment, he was reminded of the Green Grottos. These were not caves, though, but actual rooms, halls inside the mountain! They were connected to one another and to the world outside, and the sun shone through them. Above his head was a high vaulted ceiling; it was almost impossible to believe it had been formed by nature. Blue sky peeped in here and there through holes in the rock.
Tiuri leant against a wall and struggled to fight his rising dizziness. He spoke out loud, drawing strength from the sound of his own voice. “Here ends my path… The world has such wondrous places in it! Does the Gong of Vorgóta hang here?”
Slowly, Tiuri walked onwards. He stopped again when he saw a large, round, flat metal disc hanging on two iron chains.
