by J. E. Gurley
The journey seemed to take forever. Each step became a laborious affair, as tired, aching muscles began to clamor for attention. He longed to sit and rest, but feared whatever act of providence had given them clear passage into the warren would end. In his sleep-deprived mind, Gaius began to believe the creatures had rearranged the tunnels since his last ignoble visit, creating a maze for the sole purpose of trapping them beneath the earth. Though certain each step brought him inexorably closer to his doom, he yearned for an end to the situation and a chance for either a long sleep or death.
Rashid was near collapse. His pace faltered. Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead, and his face was pallid and strained. The amulet drained his strength, using him. In spite of his declining condition, he held the amulet tightly in both hands, staring into it as if reading a map of the warren in its azure glow, guiding them unerringly through the maze of tunnels. To Gaius, he appeared even gaunter than just a day earlier. If he dies, Gaius thought, I will be trapped here in the dark with wraiths all around me. He shuddered at the idea.
“We must rest,” he said.
Rashid stared at him with lids half closed. His lips were thin and blanched and his voice was weak, as he replied, “No, we must continue. We draw near.”
“It will serve no purpose to arrive at our destination too exhausted to complete our task. We must rest and replenish our depleted energy.” He pulled a wineskin from his belt and handed it to Rashid. “Here is wine fortified with honey. It will quench our thirst and soothe our anxieties.” When Rashid didn’t accept the wine, he shook the skin in Rashid’s face. “Drink. Do not be a fool.”
Finally, Rashid nodded and took the skin from Gaius’ hand. He turned it up, drank deeply, and handed it back, smiling weakly.
“Thank you. You are right. My desire to see an end to this nightmare has blinded me. My yearning for vengeance has overshadowed our true purpose, to end Nergal’s hold on this land.”
Gaius sat down with his back against the wall of the tunnel. A spark, dark and foreboding, leaped between his flesh and the blood-soaked rock. It seemed as if the very malevolence, the centuries of death and sacrifice of the shades of the Inyosh, had imbued the stone with the taint of their horrific master. The stone drained the willpower to continue from his body like the blood-sucking, hands-width-long leeches of the Pomptinos Ager, the vast marshland along the coast where the Tiber meets the sea. His mind instantly filled with dark images of rituals and sacrifices to timeless Nergal spanning eons.
Loathsome creatures more reptilian than human offered up captured apelike hominids, using their long claws to disembowel their captives and tossing their bodies into deep chasms coursing with glowing lava. In another scene, goat-faced creatures stood on an icy frozen plain watching their high priest sacrifice a squirming human on an altar made of ice. He fell forward to break contact with the stone, and the images vanished.
Rashid looked at him with sympathy in his drained eyes. “You felt it? Such abhorrent images have inundated my mind since we first entered the cavern. Nergal senses the amulet and seeks to force me to turn back.”
Gaius had felt only an instant’s flash of the horrors, and his flesh felt unclean. He wanted to rip it from his body. “How do you stand it?”
He grimaced. “I conjure an image of my wife and children as I last saw them. It gives me strength.”
Gaius realized that if Rashid’s premise that the dead became wraiths, the Berber’s family and kin would be in the cavern opposing him. He wondered if he could carry such a heavy burden. He glanced at Marcellus to offer him wine and saw that the old soldier struggled to breath. He had fallen to his knees, holding his infected arm to his chest. The wound had re-festered. The swelling had split the sutures and viscous, stomach-wrenching, malodorous pus suppurated from the wound, staining the cloth binding it a sickly yellow.
“Why did you not inform me your wound had worsened?” he demanded.
“I would not hold you back.”
Instead of berating Marcellus, he pushed the wine skin into Marcellus’ hands. “Her. You need strength.”
The veteran stared at the wine skin and shook his head. “You and the Berber share it. It is wasted on me, I fear. It appears the creatures can kill in many ways. This slow death is an ignoble way to die. I would use my sword and strike one last blow against these creatures.” He paused. “I can but wonder if dying in such a manner at the hands of these inhuman creatures will bind my shade to them, making me one of them. That ignominy I could not endure. Better to die fighting than wasting away from within.”
Gaius offered Marcellus the only comfort he could. “Your service to the Legion and to me has been exemplary. If we succeed in this mad venture, your soul will join those of your loved ones.”
Marcellus chuckled. “Loved ones. I do not remember the faces of my parents nor can I remember any act of kindness they bestowed upon me. I have neither loved nor been loved by anyone. I have had many women, but I do not remember their names, if ever I knew them, and I am sure they do not remember me out of the hundreds or thousands of faces that have crossed the brothel thresholds. My only love has been the Legion. I have led the life I wanted and will regret nothing if only I can strike one last blow before going into oblivion.”
“Spoken like a true legionnaire,” Gaius said. “We will prevail.”
“When you say it, Centurion, I want to believe.”
“Death is but one step in a long journey,” Rashid said.
“Spoken by a man who has not tasted death,” Marcellus replied. “It is much the same as a man proclaiming he does not like dog meat having never tasted it.”
“Perhaps, but without the promise of an existence beyond death, why would life be worth the pain it causes.”
“Save your philosophies for later,” Gaius said. “Rest now.”
“Later does not have the same meaning it once had,” Marcellus quipped. “Now, later may mean our last day on earth.”
§
The increased earthquakes all too soon forced them to resume their journey. Nergal did not rest. If they did not reach the pit before him, he would bring the entire mountain down on them. Gaius forced himself to keep his feet moving though his legs ached with each weary step. Soon, no more steps. He was not fool enough to believe he would ever leave the warren. Any aches or pains he felt would soon end. He would have peace. Unless I become that which I abhor most – wraith.
They arrived at the entrance into the open chamber with the pit. Gaius half-hoped to find it still blocked, but the resolute creatures had cleared the ceiling collapse of debris. The way into the cavern was open. The rock and soil bore the marks of their claws. The crushed helmet of the soldier caught in the collapse lay gleaming in the azure light cast by the amulet. Of his body, there was no sign. A smoky haze hung over the cavern floor, hiding from view the bones of the dead. Gaius wondered if the dead of Marzuq and Fort Flacco were already among the bones littering the floor of the cavern.
The stench of death permeated the air, making each breath a challenge. Even to one used to the reek of the aftermath of a battle where rotting corpses littered the battlefield and the soil oozed blood with each step, entering the cavern was difficult. A sudden surge of panic begged him to flee before death or madness struck. He glanced at Rashid, saw the stoicism with which the Berber prince faced their end, and fought down the terror in his soul.
The base of the truncated cone of the half-collapsed tower rose near the center of the cavern, its crumpled base shrouded in smoke haze. By a trick of the azure light, it seemed to float on a gray cloud. The horrific statue, the altar of the wraiths, was shattered and thankfully unrecognizable. Boulders from the fallen tower and slabs of stone from the ceiling lay scattered about the cavern, covering much of the carnage. Gaius’ gaze moved inextricably to the center of the cavern and the great yawning chasm dominating the cavern like a gateway to Hades. It drew him as a magnet draws iron. Invisible fingers of energy enveloped him. He fought the overwhelmin
g urge to fling himself down into the dark abyss. Then, he felt Rashid’s hand on his shoulder, drawing him back to the land of the living.
“Do not let it entrance you,” Rashid warned. “That way lies death.”
Gaius nodded and took a deep breath to calm his jangling nerves. “Is there any way that does not end so?”
Rashid did not reply. Gaius already knew the answer.
The tremors had increased in intensity as they approached the cavern, a steady drumming and thundering of rock cracking from the stress of Nergal’s heavy strides. Now, the solid stone directly beneath his feet echoed the movement of the nether god returning to his lair, drawn by the arcane power of the amulet. Whatever gods or mysterious creatures had created the strange stone in eons past; its potency had remained undiminished over the millennia. It burned so brightly that Gaius had to avert his gaze to avoid blinding by its opulent luminescence.
Rashid stood suffused by its arcane power, glowing from within. At that moment, Gaius felt a spark of hope. The magic that withered the Berber’s body, as it drew upon his flesh and blood for nourishment, enveloped it in a coat of azure armor. He held the amulet like a sword aimed at the very heart of the evil despoiling the land – Nergal.
Around them, the tunnels filled with the disquieting yammering, as the Inyosh gathered to watch their dark master deal with the frail human interlopers, unable themselves to approach the amulet’s azure conflagration. Gaius had difficulty remaining on his feet, as the ground groaned and swayed in agony at Nergal’s approach.
Ancient words spilled from Rashid’s mouth, sending icy chills racing through Gaius’ marrow. That such words issued from a human throat filled him with dread. Their meaning still eluded him, but now the words seemed more familiar, as if by concentrating, he could repeat them. The words and phrases were multi-dimensional, existing in many planes of existence at once, in many times. He knew that if misused, their power could unravel the threads that bound the fabric of time and space together. The world would cease to be.
The force of their creator’s fashioning quickly became evident. The amulet erupted with power, sending tendrils of light lancing from Rashid’s fingers. The azure glow enveloped Rashid’s arm, searing his flesh, but he refused to relinquish his grip on the ancient talisman. His drone of alien words continued unabated. The power within the stone that had healed Rashid now drew deeply from the Berber’s body. He seemed to shrivel before Gaius’ eyes, becoming almost transparent, as if he stood in many different places and many times at once. The light intensified, burned into the substance of the rock, sending tendrils of arcane energy racing throughout the mountain.
Marcellus faced away from the pit and the Berber, keeping watch on the unseen enemy lurking like shadow rats within the tunnels. He ignored the fever that wracked his body and the agony of his infected arm. He held his sword in his good arm ready to defend Gaius and Rashid. He was once more a Roman Legionnaire, duty bound to protect his comrades and his Centurion. The grizzled veteran would fulfill his obligation until his last gasping breath.
Gaius could not wrest his gaze from the Berber, though the light burned his eyes until they wept. Rashid stood, his right hand grasping the amulet extended into the air, as if a Roman statue carved from the finest marble, the heroic figure made manifest in flesh.
With a final shudder that rocked the entire cavern, Nergal completed his journey back to his lair. A cloud of dust that carried with it the odor of ancient unholy tombs billowed from the abyss and settled over them.
Rashid’s glazed eyes fell on Gaius. Gaius could distinguish the cavern’s far wall through the Berber’s translucent body. He was but a shadow cast by his body from some other place and time. He lowered the amulet until it touched Gaius’ sword. Power leapt from the amulet to the steel blade. The eldritch power of the amulet pulsed through the hand gripping the sword. Gaius fought to keep his fingers laced around the sword’s hilt, as power flooded his body until he felt as if it would burst from his pores.
“Go now,” Rashid said, his voice as much in Gaius’ mind as in his ears.
Did the Berber sense how badly he wanted to run away? Gaius gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw, but he did not move. “No, I came this far, prince of the Berbers. I will remain by your side.”
Rashid smiled and shook his head. “I was born for this task. I cannot defeat the creature; only imprison it. You must make the world aware of the danger it faces.”
Before Gaius could reply, a roar so loud it rattled the cavern’s ceiling erupted from the pit, sending a cascade of dust and rock falling from the ceiling over them. The debris bounced off the azure glow surrounding them as if it were a shield.
“Go!” Rashid repeated more forcefully. “Live, Roman!”
Gaius stared at Rashid, refusing to leave. It took all his willpower to keep his feet planted in the dirt beside the Berber. He had never deserted a comrade in battle. He would not desert the Berber. They had started the battle together. They would end it together. Then, he felt Marcellus tugging at his sleeve.
Marcellus’ single eye, ever watchful, darted between Gaius and the dark openings surrounding the chamber. “He is right, Centurion. We cannot add to this battle. It has passed beyond the realm of mortal men. Let the Berber complete his task.”
Rashid had already dismissed them from his consciousness. He stared down into the dark depths of the pit, willing the azure light to penetrate its depths. Waves of cerulean light poured over the lip of the pit and washed down its sides. Marcellus was right. His sword was useless. Reluctantly, Gaius followed Marcellus away from the pit. He stopped at the edge of the cavern and looked back at Rashid.
Tentacles as large as the bole of an oak tree rose from the pit. They danced around Rashid, now completely cloaked in indigo, as if fearing to touch him and with cause. Each time the light touched the creature’s flesh, the flesh bubbled and smoked. Nergal exploded in rage. The tentacles thrashed around wildly, smashing the base of the collapsed tower, hurling boulders through the air, and scattering the piles of skeletons littering the floor of the cavern until fragments of bone and bone dust fell like rain. The ground shook and cracked. The ceiling groaned under his Titan assault.
Finally, one of the tentacles reached out and grasped Rashid. The air around him exploded in lances of azure power. The reek of seared corrupt flesh filled the chamber, an odor so acrid it ate away at the stone. Still, the Berber’s litany did not diminish. The glow surrounding him intensified until it became a brilliant blaze as bright as the sun. With a howl of rage, the creature released him. Rashid fell at the edge of the pit. Only the power flowing through and around him sustained his broken body.
He looked toward Gaius and smiled; then, flung the amulet with his last remaining strength toward him. It arced through the air. Gaius caught it with one hand. Its glow did not diminish. He stared at the amulet for a moment; then, looked back at Rashid. Rashid’s body, thoroughly infused with the arcane power of the amulet, glowed as brightly as the amulet itself. His eyes glowed azure, his flesh cerulean. Cobalt droplets poured from his pores like sweat. His pale sapphire lips trembled and moved.
“I see now,” he said. “I am the power that will bind Nergal to his prison. Keep the amulet safe in case the world had need of it again. Listen to it. It will teach you its secrets.”
The floor of the cavern trembled violently as the creature pounded on the walls of the pit. The edge split and cracked; then, crumbled and slid into the chasm. Gaius caught one last glimpse of Rashid; now glowing so intensely that to look at him was akin to staring into the blazing sun. A soundless explosion of azure light spilled from the pit and bathed the walls of the cavern. It swept through and past Gaius and Marcellus. The Inyosh, caught in its beam, wailed as one before exploding in a burst of ash. With the sound of snapping tree branches, sections of the ceiling broke away and began falling. Gaius knew the time to leave had arrived.
With his glowing sword in one hand and the amulet clutched in the other, he and
Marcellus retraced their steps to the outside world. Only once did a wraith attack. His sword reduced it to ash. The remainder of the creatures swarmed to their god. Gaius hoped every creature in Tripolitania joined them. Their defeat must be in one fell swoop. Behind them, the battle continued. The glow grew in intensity as it permeated the rock, sanctifying it. The ground shuddered and danced. The deep, resonant groans of dying rock mixed with the high keening and wailing of frightened and dying creatures.
By the time he and Marcellus reached the fresh air of the entrance, the mountain’s collapse upon itself was inevitable. Barely noticing that his sword no longer glowed, he turned his back on the caverns and walked into the desert away from the city of Hamad Rus. The ground rocked and the landscape tilted, throwing him and Marcellus to the ground. A great, billowing cloud of red dust erupted from the city, hiding the city from view. When it had dissipated, the city of Hamad Rus, having survived for millennia, was no more. Only a sand-filled depression remained where the city had once stood.
Behind them, the bluff continued to shake itself to pieces. The cavern entrances were gone, hidden by tons of rock. The sides of the bluff cracked open, bathing the surrounding desert with azure light. With the roar of a gigantic wounded beast, the top of the bluff collapsed into itself. A column of blue light stabbed toward the heavens through a cloud of dust. As Gaius watched, it slowly faded and the rumblings silenced. Nergal was trapped within.
Night had fallen while they were in the cavern, but Gaius no longer feared the darkness. The light generated by Rashid’s sacrifice had cleansed the cavern and tunnels of the dark god’s minions. The souls of the dead were now free. The Berber, not the amulet, had been the key necessary to seal Nergal in his tomb. Gaius wondered if Rashid had suspected this all along.
