Florm arched his neck and lifted his head in surprise. “Whatever for?”
“There is something there that is mine. Joktan thinks that I will need it.”
The horses stared and then Florm asked in hushed tones, “You have seen the king?”
“I have.” Aram nodded and then fixed his gaze on Florm. “He told me what you did for us on that terrible day, my lord; how you saved the remnants of our family. If not for you, I would not stand here today. Forgive me; I did not know that we owed you such a debt.”
Florm was silent for a long moment; then he blinked his luminous black eyes and looked away. “I have not spoken to the great king since that day, so I could not ask him – but in my heart I knew that you were descended from that child. There is no debt, Aram. The mission on which Lord Joktan sent me saved my life as well. Had I stayed in that fight, my bones would also lie beneath the wounded ground along with his – and those of my brothers, my father, and my grandfather.” He swung his head back and met Aram’s gaze. “If not for that commission by your ancestor, the king, none of the three of us would stand here today.”
Aram stood quietly and stared back at him, feeling the surge of powerful emotion in his chest. He did not trust himself to speak. Florm remained quiet as well. After a long moment, Thaniel looked up at the sun. “We should go, my lords, if we wish to reach the city before the coming of night. I will bear you as always, Lord Aram.”
Aram climbed up on the great horse’s back and then Florm and Thaniel turned back southward and broke into a steady gallop that ate up the ground and rolled the grassy plains behind them. The pyramid rose up steadily before them and by evening, Aram could make out the lush green of the thick jungle that surrounded it. By sunset, they had passed the city’s western edge and circled around to the south. At twilight, they camped in the same copse of trees that had sheltered them two years earlier. Aram decided to rest for the night and enter the jungle at daylight.
At first light, he parted from the horses. They were going back into the south to reunite with their people but pledged to return before the evening. Aram found the place where he had exited two years before because it was aligned with the city’s main avenue and went into the gloom beneath the immense, gnarled trees. His passage through the dark jungle and along the avenue beyond seemed not as long as before, but perhaps that was because he knew what to expect from the ancient city and its environs.
When he reached the gorge of the old quarry, he went down the steps without hesitation. He knew what to expect there, as well. He also knew that if the Choalung attacked again, he could immerse the sword into the water and boil the beast in its own environs. But the great creature did not appear.
He reached the pyramid just after midday. The stones he’d used to open the door before were still on the landing by their respective stone pistons. He rolled a stone onto each piston, depressing each one in turn, and the door leading into the pyramid swung wide.
He stepped inside and let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the great structure’s interior. It was brighter than the last time he’d been inside, because the sun was overhead and rays of light came readily down the long shafts in the stone created for that purpose. The long stairwell that began a hundred feet inside the door seemed longer than he remembered. He was not in as great a hurry as he had been two years earlier and he took some time to explore around him as he went. But the narrow, steep stairway did not change as it descended and there were no side passages branching off from it.
Down he went over the seemingly endless steps until, as before, he felt sure that he’d gone below the surface of the earth. At last he came into the large rectangular room with its tiled floor and raised sarcophagus inside of which the remains of the woman who had been Joktan’s consort lay in ancient repose. The unattended flame still burned in the circular pit in the floor. Aram could not fathom how it burned unceasingly but now he was certain that he understood its purpose.
He looked up at the golden sarcophagus resting on the top of the black structure. The flame was for her. Joktan had not left the earth to join her in their long home but he kept the fire of his devotion burning at the place of her burial. He would like to have known the veracity of his assumption, but he would never consider asking the ghostly king about something so private.
Moving across the floor and around the structure’s right side, he knelt down at the corner and found the tile. After a few attempts, it came loose and he lifted it from the floor. Beneath it, there was a dark, square hole. He put his arm into it and felt around until his hand closed on the lever. It was in the upright position, as Joktan had said.
He tried to force it downward but it did not move. Again he tried without success. Leaning over the opening, he tried to see if the handle had rusted beyond usage with the passing of centuries, but his eye could not resolve it in the darkness. He felt it again, running his fingers as far down the shaft as he could reach. It did not feel rusted; there was no roughness to its surface and no crust of erosion. Besides, it felt as if it were made of smooth, hardened steel rather than iron.
Reaching deeper into the cavity, he probed down along the length of the lever’s shaft until his fingers found a bolted joint in the metal. And then he realized his error. The handle could be depressed in one direction only, toward the wall of the onyx structure. Once again he put pressure on the handle, this time in the proper direction. And this time it moved.
As he depressed the handle until it would move no further, he heard a scraping sound in the onyx structure. Leaning back and looking around the corner at the structure’s eastern side, he saw that a narrow door had opened inward. Beyond the door, there was darkness.
He stood and went to the opening, and peered inside. There was no light in the interior of the room below the sarcophagus, but as his eyes adjusted he could make out the shapes of many small objects – all of them, apparently, of the exact same size and shape. They appeared to be crates, stacked floor to ceiling all around the room, allowing only enough space in the center for one man to stand.
He stepped into the room and waited a few minutes to allow the dim light from the larger room outside to illuminate what it could. There were, in fact, many crates, dozens upon dozens, more than a hundred. Perhaps as many as several hundred or even a thousand. Each small crate was composed of a dark metal, like brass or bronze, and was about eight inches wide by twelve inches long, and eight or ten inches deep.
Aram felt a twinge of confusion. Joktan had said that he would find a weapon inside the room below the sarcophagus but, look as he might, he could find nothing else in the small room. Perhaps there were many weapons, small, contained in the boxes. Curious, he took one of the crates down from the top of a stack, intending to move it outside, and found it to be terrifically heavy. The weight of it caught him by surprise and he nearly dropped it.
Amazed at the box’s heaviness, he hefted it in his hands. It weighed easily sixty or seventy pounds, maybe more. Easing back through the door, he took the box over near the flame in the pit. He set it down and examined it for a way to get it open. There was no hasp or lock on it anywhere. Nor were there any handles or levers to move or compress. He picked it up to turn it over and to his amazement it seemed to grow in his hands and become taller.
He let go of it and it shrunk again, though not back to its normal size. And then understanding came. The box was not locked. It was in fact composed of two parts, the top piece just slightly larger than the other and fitted over the bottom half like a sleeve. He grasped the top half and pulled it gently off the bottom.
Inside the box there were three mesh bags, looking and acting like some sort of cloth but he was reasonably sure that they were in fact made of metal. He removed one of the bags and opened it, pouring its heavy contents out onto the tiled floor.
Discs of gleaming metal poured from the bag – golden in color, small, thin, hard, and heavy. He picked one up and examined it in the light of the flame. There was a different marking on
either side of the disc and an inscription around the edges. The markings on either side of the disc were embossed into the metal with raised parts he could feel with his fingers. On one side there was a four-pointed star inside a circle; the other contained the profile of a man with a band encircling his head above the brow.
Aram had never seen money in the whole course of his life, nor gold; but he instinctively knew that that was what he was looking at now. And then he understood Joktan’s referring to it as a weapon. Aram had only a rudimentary understanding of commerce, based on his experiences with the sophisticated people of Derosa. But he’d heard Findaen and his friends refer to money and to gold in such ways that he understood its value to – and power over – people. Many things could be accomplished with wealth that no other power could bring to pass, and often its influence was greater than that of the sword.
He went back and looked into the small room containing the treasure and made a cursory count of the crates. There were about eight hundred. Aram had no basis for computing the value of what he saw but he knew that it was indeed a king’s fortune. And Joktan had said that it was rightly his.
He decided to take some of the golden discs out of the city with him, leaving the rest of the fortune until he knew what he could do with it. The box, though relatively small, was too cumbersome to carry because of its unnatural weight. It would make his task of going back through the jungle extremely difficult.
After considering the matter, he decided to take two bags of the coins, carrying one in each hand – they were more manageable and could be set aside momentarily if it became necessary on the journey back through the city – and then he stored the crate back into the vault beneath the sarcophagus. The day was wasting away outside so he replaced the crate with its single bag, reset the lever and positioned the tile back into the floor. Then he went up the long stairway and out of the pyramid.
The sun was halfway down the sky to the west when he came out of the pyramid and he knew that he must hurry to get clear of the city before nightfall. But now, after two trips into the city, hacking at the undergrowth and getting a sense of the city’s layout, his return trip would be much easier. He had, in effect, created a worn path into and out of the overgrown city.
Holding a bag of gold in each hand, he went back along the avenue, crossed the quarry – the Choalung did not show itself – and came out of the city. He exited the jungle on the southern limits of the city and stepped once again onto the high plains just as the last of the sun slipped over the rim of the world. Florm, Thaniel, Jared, and Ashal were waiting for him in the small copse of trees.
Jared approached him eagerly. “Lord Aram, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“And you, my friend.” Aram raised his right hand and saluted the rangy brown horse. He felt a deep kinship with the mighty but quiet Thaniel because of their shared experiences, but he had always enjoyed Jared’s openness and enthusiasm. “You are looking well, as always.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Jared answered, and then with his characteristic frankness, introduced the topic that most interested him. “I have spoken with Lord Florm and know of your plans to build an army – Lord Aram; I must be allowed to stand first in line for recruitment.”
Aram laughed. “And so you shall, my friend, just as soon as we find someone worthy for you to bear into battle. He will have to be a brave man, for he will need to share your spirit.”
Jared was pleased at this praise and turned to look at his cousin. “The next time, Thaniel, I will be at your side.”
“I always knew it would be so.” Thaniel answered quietly.
“Yes, yes, Jared,” Florm interjected impatiently, “if we can only keep you from charging ahead of everyone. Lord Aram, my spouse wishes to greet you.”
Grinning at Jared, Aram followed Florm through the twilight to where Ashal waited under the trees on the hill. He bowed low. This beautiful, queenly horse had always discomfited him, made him feel common, though he knew that it was never her intention to do so.
“My lady, I am most pleased to see you again.”
“My husband and I, indeed all of our people, are happy and relieved to see you come back from the mountain of Kelven, Lord Aram.” The wonderfully calm and fluid voice seemed to flow like soothing waters inside his mind. “My husband tells me that you came down through the impassable mountains in the midst of winter. I do not mean to rebuke – indeed I could not reprove someone of your stature – but that was dangerous and a bit foolish, was it not?”
Aram found it unsettling, but strangely pleasant that she could remark on his status in the world, and at the same time chide him like a mother. He cast about for an answer but could only think of pointing out the obvious.
“I am here, my lady.”
“You are indeed, but only by virtue of taking great personal risk.” She arched her neck slightly. “Lord Aram, you must learn to appreciate your value and importance in the world. You are not a barbarian warrior – you are the heir to a king. Think on that.”
Aram glanced at Florm standing behind her and thought he saw a bright flicker of amusement in the horse’s great black eyes. Biting his tongue, he bowed to Ashal again. “You are right as always, my lady. I promise I will be more circumspect in the future.”
She made a noise that sounded suspiciously like quiet laughter. “I suspect that you will ever behave in the manner that is peculiar to you, Lord Aram. At the same time, I would ask you to reflect on that word, circumspect. It is a word that is well known to the wise.”
As Aram looked into her large, luminous, and soft brown eyes, he suddenly comprehended that her concern was genuine and deep. And not just because of what he meant to her people, for whom she cared deeply. She cared for him in a personal way, as if he were her son.
He inclined his head respectfully. “Thank you, my lady. I promised to be more careful – I will. I would never purposefully cause you to worry.”
He met her gaze for a moment, and the atmosphere changed. Even Florm, standing to one side a little way behind his wife, seemed more somber. The twilight deepened and a gentle breeze stirred in the branches of the trees where leaves were just starting to bud and open. Aram turned to Florm and the old horse broke the quiet.
“What did you find inside the pyramid, Lord Aram, if it is not secret?”
“I have no secrets from you, my lord.” Aram answered. “It was the treasure of the king, golden discs of money.”
“Ah, yes, your people have always desired the precious metals. What will you do with it, if I may ask?”
Aram looked up at the sky, filling rapidly with stars. Automatically, he looked eastward, toward the horizon, to see if the Glittering Sword of God had risen above the earth, but it was still too early in the year. It would arise later, deeper in the night. He returned his gaze to Florm.
“Actually, I thought about that as I was coming out of the city. We are going to need armor for all the horses. For the men, as well. We need to acquire the materials and have the armor crafted. We’ll need weapons assembled by the hundreds, hopefully by the thousands. I know from listening to the citizens of Derosa that people will do much for gold. Joktan was right – it is a weapon, but more than that, it is a tool.”
He retrieved the sacks and poured the contents of one of them onto the ground. The starlight reflected off the gleaming metal. He looked up at Florm.
“What is the value of this, do you think, my lord?”
Florm considered it a moment. “I do not know, Aram. My people have never had use for currency. But I suspect that that is a substantial amount. Is there more inside the city?”
Aram nodded. “Much more than this. It would require Thaniel, Jared and several more horses to carry it all out.”
“But we cannot get into the city.” Jared interjected.
Aram looked at him. “I don’t want to bring it all out at once, anyway, Jared, until I have a clearer understanding of its value. But, until the pass opens to my valley, I might move a
good amount of it near the edge of the city where I can access it more easily in the future.”
“How long until the pass opens, my lord?” Thaniel asked.
“Joktan said less than a week, if the good weather holds.”
Florm glanced at his son and then looked at Aram. “What are your plans then, Lord Aram?” He asked.
Aram looked up at Thaniel and then stood and faced Florm. “My lord, is it your intention to let your horses train in my valley again this summer?”
“As I promised. We will come as soon as the mares have foaled. That will occur in about a month. I may not come myself, at least not right away, but I will send Jared and Huram with the rest. I assume Thaniel will go with you now, when you leave.”
Aram nodded. “Yes. Thaniel and I must leave as soon as the pass is clear and I would rather be there waiting on it to open rather than lose even a day. I need to know what happens in the world beyond the western mountains. I will move as much of the gold as I can to this side of the city tomorrow and Thaniel and I will leave the day after. It is two days for a horse from here to the mountains. Perhaps the pass will be open by the time we arrive.”
Thaniel snorted. “It would take a great deal of snow to stop me, my lord.”
“Yes,” Aram chuckled, “I know.”
The breeze picked up and the night grew cooler. Aram was wearing his regular clothes except for the gauntlets, which he never removed, and he shivered suddenly.
“I think I will start a fire and try to sleep,” he said. “I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
Florm looked down at the coins gleaming darkly in the starlight. “What about those?” He asked.
Aram glanced at them. “They can stay there until morning.”
Florm considered him for a moment.
“In my experience,” he said, “your people are not generally so careless about their money.”
Aram shrugged. “If the little animals of the night want it to adorn their nests, they are welcome. There is plenty more inside.”
Kelven's Riddle Book Two Page 16
