by Rudi James
‘Yes,’ said Jissi, ‘and they have lots of our people as hostages, including our mother.’
‘Don't worry, something will be done,’ Drum said, with more confidence than he felt. ‘All our problems would be solved if only we could bring Shirrac's brother Droch to book. It’s a pity we don't have any weapons.’
Alex felt helpless at not being able to do anything. But he was a stranger here and he didn't, after all, know the full background to their crisis. ‘What were those fearsome weapons the Sand Dwellers were holding when they attacked us?’ he asked.
‘They weren't weapons,’ replied Hogarth. ‘Not in the true sense; although I dare say they could be used as such. They are actually what the enemy use as a drilling tool. They aren't called Sand Dwellers for nothing you know. Come to think of it they don’t actually live in the sand. Their homes are huge cavernous bunkers dug out of the solid earth, in a large expanse of ground between the edge of the forest and the beginning of the sand dunes. They were called Sand Dwellers because it was thought, a long time ago, that that was where they came from. What’s very disturbing is that we were quite friendly with them once, until Droch trapped them in his evil influence.’
Alex could see the first cottages were very close now. All was silent and the moonlight was strong and bright. Swaying tree shadows had given way to the more solid outline of house shadows, static and clearly defined. It had become quite cold, which surprised Alex considering how hot it had been during the day.
‘Well here we are,’ said Drum, stopping at the first cottage they came to. ‘Are you all coming inside for a hot drink?’
They declined his offer, saying they wished to get to their own home as quickly as possible. As it happened they lived only a few cottages further up.
It occurred to Alex that he hadn’t met Hogarth's parents and that Hogarth appeared to be staying with Shirrac and his daughters.
Drum unlocked his door and Alex stooped down and entered. As he stood up Drum lit two or three oil lamps and Alex was relieved to find that he could stand up straight. The ceiling was further above his head than he’d expected, although it was quite low by the standards he was accustomed to. The room he stood in was cosy. Two small armchairs were arranged in front of a tiny hearth in which glowed the dying embers of a log fire. A little apart from the small chairs stood a much larger one.
A small wooden table with four chairs stood by the side of one wall and a chest of drawers by the opposite wall. Apart from two pictures hanging crookedly that was all the little room contained, which was just as well, for it could not have held much more.
‘Please sit in the large chair,’ Alex's host invited, picking up a poker lying next to the hearth. He prodded the embers of the dying fire, before adding more logs from a neat pile stacked next to where the poker had been. ‘I’ll soon have this going again; I lit it hours ago, just before I came to the banquet, in preparation for our very cold nights.’
Alex sat himself down in the large chair and found it to be very comfortable. Flames began to lick at the fresh logs that Drum had put on the fire, adding flickering shadows to the static ones already cast on the sandstone walls by the oil lamps. The room became even cosier. Alex began to feel sleepy. The day's events had taken their toll, but there were so many questions buzzing around in his head he had to stay awake.
‘Would you like some tea?’ asked Drum.
‘Yes please,’ replied Alex.
‘I'll put on a kettle,’ said Drum, leaving the room.
‘Pretty awful day today,’ remarked Alex, when his host returned from his kitchen.
Drum nodded in agreement.
‘I couldn't help noticing that Hogarth went to Shirrac's cottage with the girls,’ said Alex.
‘That's because he lives there,’ Drum confided. ‘His parents were killed in a freak storm about two years ago,’ he added, sadly.
Alex felt awful for having asked about Hogarth. ‘I'm so sorry; I thought maybe they had been taken by the Sand Dwellers.’
Drum shook his head slowly. ‘But I think they are preparing for another offensive against us. That evil Droch is behind it. I know it.’ Drum looked perplexed. ‘How can two brothers be so different from one another?’
‘So why is Droch the way he is?’
‘The same reason why so many go off the rails. He's drunk with the lust for power,’ replied Drum.
‘So Hogarth, because he lost his parents, is now looked after by Shirrac.’
‘That's about the size of it,’ replied Drum. ‘Shirrac was a very good friend of Hogarth's mother and father.’
Just then the kettle began to whistle and Alex's host disappeared into the kitchen once more.
Alex decided that he must try and help the Realm People and he would have to stay; but he couldn't shake off the feeling that he was already being missed at home. He had visions of police, search parties and so on scouring the countryside looking for him. Still, he had been reassured that they wouldn’t know he'd been away. He thought about what Drum had said about not having any weapons and was just beginning to have the glimmerings of an idea when his host returned.
Drum came in carrying two steaming mugs and a plate of cakes. He handed Alex the larger of the two mugs, offered him a cake and put the plate on the hearth in front of the fire. His tanned face shone and his green eyes sparkled in the firelight as he leaned forward.
‘I'm going to help you,’ announced Alex, sipping his tea.
Drum looked at him in surprise and then smiled rather sadly.
‘It’s very kind of you to offer but it would seem that there is very little anyone can do. However, any help will be greatly appreciated.’
Just then there was a knock at the door and Drum got up to answer it, to find Shirrac standing there. Alex could hear footsteps and voices outside.
‘We’ve cleared up most of the damage,’ said Shirrac as he approached the now blazing fire and warmed his hands.
‘Want some tea?’ asked Drum.
‘No thanks, I shall go home and make sure Hogarth and the girls are all right. I suggest we all turn in for the night and resume our repairs in the morning. I shall call an emergency meeting of Elders to discuss what to do. We have to do something.’
He turned towards the door, bade them goodnight and went out into the dark.
Drum closed the door. ‘That sounds like good advice to me.’
Alex agreed; he was feeling very tired himself.
They finished their tea and Alex was shown his room. To his amazement it was much larger than the tiny sitting room they had just left – about four times larger, approaching a size he felt comfortable with. A huge bed was the centrepiece.
‘This is my special guest room,’ explained Drum, ‘Normally reserved for a very very good friend of mine. I trust you will be comfortable’.
‘I certainly shall,’ said Alex. ‘Your friend must be a giant,’ he added, eyeing the bed.
‘He is that,’ agreed Drum. ‘I'll bid you goodnight. Please remember to snuff out the oil lamps before you go to sleep. There are some night clothes in the cupboard and I trust you will find something to fit. There is also a small washroom through that door next to the bed. Tomorrow I’ll show you my archives and perhaps tell you about him. Maybe we can come up with some ideas, together, about defeating the Sand Dwellers and Droch.’
Chapter four
Drum’s Archives
When Drum had gone, Alex looked in the wardrobe and selected a one-piece garment made of a very light but warm, silk like, material. It was a little on the large side, but it would do.
It was warm in the room as a result of air, ducted from the log fire in the sitting room, blowing gently from built-in louvres.
Alex eyed the huge bed and he began to remove his school uniform. It was a great relief to take off the dark blue blazer, matching trousers, light-blue shirt and black shoes. He had taken off the blue and black striped tie earlier and stuffed it into one of the blazer pockets. ‘Soon,’ he thought,
‘I won't have to wear this lot.’
Having finished his toiletries in the bathroom, Alex tucked himself under the covers of the bed, its massive proportions allowing him to stretch and sprawl to his heart’s content. He thought about the events of the day before putting out the oil lamps. Dozens of questions buzzed around in his head and he wondered, again, how he could help the Realm People. He could scarcely believe that he was in a different time dimension
and almost expected to wake up from a dream. He also wondered who Drum’s giant friend might be and if he would ever meet him.
Eventually he dozed off.
****
Alex awoke to bright sunlight breaking through the thin curtains. As he lifted his head and rubbed his eyes to dispel what was, in effect, momentary disorientation, the door opened and Drum walked in with a cup of tea.
‘Wakey wakey,’ he said, rather cheerily.
‘Thanks a lot. For a moment I couldn't fathom out where I was.’
Alex rubbed his eyes again and looked at his watch. The hands showed eight-fifteen. He realised that would be the time in Wainfirth, or so he thought, but whether morning or evening he had no idea.
‘What time is it?’
‘Ten a.m.’ replied Drum.
‘My goodness, my watch is almost two hours slow. I didn't mean to sleep in so long. You should have called me earlier.’
Drum smiled. ‘You were absolutely out for the count; seemed a shame to wake you. Don’t take any notice of your watch. The time it shows may haverelationship with the time in your realm. jumped forward or back when you travelled here with Hogarth. It certainly won’t have any ’
‘What's the order of the day?’ asked Alex. ‘Seeing as what happened last night.’
‘You'll be pleased to know that there have been no further disturbances. It's my guess, from past experience, that the Sand Dwellers will probably leave us alone for a while. It'll give me time to fill you in as much as possible on what exactly our situation is here. Also I'd like to show you things. Your mind must have been buzzing last night.’
Alex nodded. ‘It certainly was.’
‘When you've finished your tea you might like some breakfast?’
‘Toast will be fine,’ replied Alex, still rubbing his eyes.
‘Fine, then I'll be able to show you a thing or two and try and answer most of those questions in your mind. I will fill you in on the whole story as far as possible.’
‘That would be great. I've been wondering what's actually going on here. I can piece some of it together, but not all of it.’
‘Well, finish your tea and then come through to the kitchen for your toast,’ said Drum.
Alex drew the curtains, finished his tea, washed, got dressed and made his way into the tiny sitting room. The log fire was now just a pile of smouldering embers. Alex surmised that Drum would allow it to die out, because the day would probably be hot again.
Drum’s voice sounded from the kitchen. ‘Come through here.’
A small passage off the living room led to another door which was slightly ajar. Alex pushed it open and walked through. The kitchen was a small L-shaped affair with lots of little cupboards built haphazardly around it. A large ornate-looking clock hung crookedly on one of the walls. A small wooden table with a couple of stools stood in the shorter part of the ‘L’. Alex thought there would be just enough room for him to squeeze in and sit down.
Toast had already been piled on a plate on the table. A pot of tea stood next to the plate.
‘Come and sit,’ Drum invited.
Alex took his place at the table; the stool he sat on was just large enough for him. He was about a foot taller than Drum and the top of the table seemed a bit further down than the ones he was used to; but it was comfortable enough once he had settled himself.
‘Are you quite sure all you want is toast? I can do some pancakes or something,’ said Drum, pointing to a small wood burning stove standing in the other part of the kitchen.
‘Toast is fine,’ said Alex. He looked at the stove and it struck him that, so far, he hadn't seen any of the modern gadgetry that was part of his own realm. No cars, no television, phones, radio or computers and so on. That, coupled with the amazing life span of the Realm People and their magical powders must have made for a very unusual existence.
‘You seem surprised at something,’ remarked Drum.
‘I was just wondering,’ replied Alex, ‘you don't appear to have any of the gadgetry that we have at home. You know, television, cars and so on. No electricity.’
‘Oh we have the capacity for very advanced technology,’ said Drum, ‘but we prefer to live as we do. We find it cleaner, safer and less stressful than having all the modern-day things that your realm possesses. You must admit that you’re beginning to have some very serious problems with pollution and what have you. We have our powders and we’re quite happy to live as we do. If necessary they can supply our needs. At least, the source that the powders come from can.’
‘You have a point.’ Alex nodded, wondering what the source of the powders could be.
‘Anyway,’ continued Drum, pouring Alex and himself some tea, ‘You'll find out just how advanced we can be when I show you my archives and some of the artefacts from the future I've collected.’
‘I can't wait,’ said Alex.
‘All in good time my friend, but first I think I should tell you about our situation.’
Alex agreed.
‘It all started when Shirrac's brother, Droch, began to abuse his knowledge of the powders and use them for personal gain. He started with mischievous pranks and then progressed to petty pilfering and then finally tried to put himself, unelected, into positions of power. His ultimate goal is to obtain the secret location of what we call the Shanglo Crystals. I'll explain what they are in a moment. Only a master traveller such as Shirrac, the other Elders and I, know where they are.
The crystals are a very powerful source of apparently magical powers but are in fact the result of an extremely advanced science.’
Drum allowed this information to sink in.
‘So why are they called Shanglo Crystals?’ Alex asked.
Drum smiled and drew a deep breath. ‘A very very long time ago we had a great leader; one of the greatest, if not the greatest Elder of all time. They referred to him as the Shro-Shar, which in our ancient language means ‘The Great Magician’. His name was Shanglo and, as you can now guess, our village is named after him. He was not a magician but the founder of an extremely advanced science. It was the power of his science that imparted an impression of magic.’ Drum smiled wistfully.
‘I have a deep rooted feeling that some of the things he achieved had an element of magic, but I can't prove it and I don't think he ever admitted to it. Anyway, one day he got caught in a freak storm while walking in the forest with one of his aides. An extremely powerful bolt of lightning struck Shanglo and, to the amazement of his companion, he was reduced to a collection of strange crystals and not burned to a cinder, as one would expect. The aide himself was completely unscathed. Some documents written by Shanglo himself indicated that he knew what was going to happen. He knew that he would leave a legacy for his people, the very powerful legacy of the crystals. He was over a thousand years old when he died and many believe, as I do, that he sacrificed himself. He felt he had lived long enough, and that it was time to leave something for his people. Some, including myself, even believe that he conjured up the storm that killed him. The powders you have seen in action are only a part of that legacy. Whoever possesses the crystals also possesses unlimited power. And that is exactly what Droch wants.’
Alex listened to this amazing story intently. ‘So the crystals are the essence of Shanglo himself?’
Drum nodded. ‘Quite right.’
‘So what are the crystals for?’ asked Alex.
‘I'm afraid I can't explain all that just now,’ Drum replied, ‘but rest assured what you have seen of the powders is child’s play compared to w
hat the crystals are capable of.’
Alex allowed himself to analyse Drum’s incredible story, bizarre as it sounded, before asking his next question.
‘What kind of science could possibly allow someone to be reduced to crystals, after being struck by lightning?’
Drum looked extremely thoughtful. ‘As I've told you,’ he said at length, ‘Shanglo was highly advanced. From what we can make out from his scientific journals, he had extensive knowledge of chemistry, genetics and so forth. We do know that he was forever experimenting with various liquids, concoctions and potions; some of which he took.’
‘You mean he swallowed them?’
Drum nodded.
Alex stared down at the table for a few moments. ‘Where is Droch now?’ he asked after a while.
‘He was banished, together with his followers, to live away from us and without the use of any of the powders. Unfortunately he managed to concoct some of his own. As far as we know he’s in one of the many chambers built underground by the Sand Dwellers. From there he masterminds his attacks on us and organises his snatch squads. The chambers are interconnected by a labyrinth of tunnels and we assume our people are dispersed in a number of them; the chambers that is. As far as we know none of them have come to any real harm, because Droch is using them as a bargaining tool to get what he wants. He probably uses them to carry out whatever tasks that require manpower. He promises to return them as soon as he has the location of the crystals, or better still the crystals themselves.’
‘So where do the Sand Dwellers fit in?’ Alex asked.
‘The Sand Dwellers are essentially a peaceful race. We think that Droch used his evil powers to influence or coerce them somehow. We believe he has employed some sort of mass hypnosis, with the aid of a mutated form of the various powders we use. He has somehow managed to change the characteristics of the powders, which we think he stole from his hostages.’
Alex was at last beginning to see the plight of his new found friends and he was determined more than ever to help them.
