The Andor: Book One of the Legends of Tirmar

by Mark Dame

  The trail zigzagged up the side of the mountain, avoiding the steepest parts of the slope. Although he doubted anyone would be able to see them from this distance, Flyn still felt exposed. Almost as if the tower itself seemed to be watching them. The scattered boulders and rock outcroppings provided little cover for the travelers. The others seemed to feel it too, glancing at the tower every few minutes. Finally, as the trail bent around to the northern slope, and the black tower slid from view behind the peak of Mount Yemsok, they paused for a rest.

  “Did you feel it?” Randell said. “Something was watching us. Something evil.”

  “I felt it,” Flyn replied. “Let’s just hope they didn’t pay any attention to us. After all, we are traveling away from the city, not toward it.”

  “Unless they figure out we’re looking for the entrance to the tunnels,” Harvig said.

  “If they’re as well hidden as Gunnulf said, I don’t think they would expect that.” Flyn felt like he was trying to convince himself as much as the others.

  “Even if we find the right place, how are we going to get to it?” Harvig said. “If Gudbrant had a plan for that, he failed to mention it.”

  “Leave that to me,” Sigrid said. “I’m a dwarf, remember? Moving around in the mountains is what we do.”

  “Come on,” Flyn said after a few minutes. “Let’s get moving again.”

  They shouldered their packs and continued along the trail.

  “Watch down the slope for a plateau,” Flyn said.

  “How will we know which one it is?” Harvig pointed out.

  Flyn didn’t know the answer to that. He held out hope that if Gunnulf could find it, then they could too.

  A rumble in his stomach reminded him of their lack of food. If they didn’t find the plateau soon, they would be forced to turn back. They might find some nuts or berries in the forest below. Or maybe a few squirrels. But they wouldn’t find anything to sustain them above the tree line. From the trail to the peak, he could see nothing but rock and, higher up, snow.

  The trail again became hard to follow, washed out in places and covered in rock from landslides in others. Fortunately, there was no other way to go, so each time they thought they had lost the path, they found it again a short time later. Still, the lack of a clear path made for awkward footing, slowing their progress considerably. The sun was already beginning to throw long shadows, and Flyn was wondering what they would do if they lost the light altogether, when the path turned sharply to the right and the ground straight ahead fell away.

  Flyn stopped and peered over the edge.

  Below him, perhaps forty or fifty feet, was a small plateau.

  “I think we found it,” he said, turning back to the others.

  They all moved forward and looked down.

  “I’m not sure I would call that a plateau,” Harvig said. “More of a ledge.”

  The plateau wasn’t very wide, about twenty feet at the widest. Trees covered most of it, obscuring their view of the cliff. They had no way to tell if there was an entrance to a tunnel there or not.

  “It’s the first place we’ve found that even remotely resembles what the old man described to us,” Flyn said. “We have to try.”

  “And if it’s not the right spot?” Harvig asked. “Then what do we do?”

  “That’s the easy part,” Sigrid said. “I’ll go down and look. Then you can pull me back up.”

  “You have rope?” Flyn asked. His own rope had been in one of the packs the mule had carried.

  “Aye, I do. There are some things you should always keep in your personal pack, ’cause you never know what might happen.”

  Sigrid took off her pack and rummaged through it. After a moment, she pulled out a bundle of rope.

  “I’m going to show you how to climb down a cliff with just a rope,” she said, grinning at their stunned faces. “First thing we need is an anchor.” She found an outcropping a few feet up the slope from the trail and wrapped the rope around it, then threw the ends of the rope over the cliff.

  “Now the fun part.” She picked up the rope ends and wrapped them around her back, then between her legs.

  “Here’s the important part,” she said. “Make sure you keep both ends together and wrap them around your arm so you can control your speed. To go faster, just loosen up a bit. To slow down, just swing your arm forward and tighten your grip.”

  She stepped to the edge of the cliff and looked down.

  “Watch for me. After I check out the ledge, I’ll tie myself off and you can pull me up so I can tell you what I found.”

  Before anyone could object, she was over the side of the cliff. Flyn watched from the top as she descended. In less than a minute, she was at the ledge. She unwrapped the rope and waved to her companions at the top of the cliff, then disappeared into the trees.

  “There’s more to that dwarf than meets the eye,” Harvig said. He sat down and leaned against a rock.

  “I’ve never met a dwarf before,” Flyn said. “I guess I don’t know what to expect from her.”

  “I’ve met a few,” Harvig said. “Most of them don’t like heights. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever heard of one that did.”

  “Gudbrant once told me about a dwarf he knew who lived with the elves of the Losalf clan…” Randell trailed off.

  No one spoke for a bit at the mention of their fallen friend.

  “Is a dwarf living with elves unusual?” Flyn said finally.

  “It’s unusual, but not unheard of,” Randell said. “But the Losalf clan builds their cities in the trees, which would make most dwarves uncomfortable.”

  Flyn wondered how they could build entire cities in trees, then remembered the large trees of the forest he and Kel had traveled through when they had first gotten to Tirmar. He wondered…

  “Did the elves used to live along the coast?” he asked. “On the other side of the Estlaeg Mountains?”

  “A long time ago,” Harvig said. “After the Revolution, most of the Losalf clan settled in the Garlunder Forest, in southern Tirmar. But some settled along the coast. Supposedly, there was only one small forest of giant cedar trees that they settled in. The forest that’s there today was planted by those settlers. Eventually, though, they joined the others in the south. No one really knows why.”

  Flyn nodded and wondered what their cities would be like. Maybe he would get a chance to visit one day.

  “She’s back,” Randell said.

  Flyn went to the cliff and looked down. Sigrid was tying the ends of the rope around herself. When she was done, she looked up and waved. Flyn and Randell grabbed the rope and started pulling her up. Sigrid was a lot heavier than she looked. Harvig joined in and between the three of them, they hauled the stout dwarf back up the cliff.

  “What did you find?” Flyn asked as soon as they pulled her over the edge.

  “I think this is the place,” she said as she untied the ends of the rope. “I found a cave that looks like it hasn’t been used by anything in a while. I didn’t have a torch, so I couldn’t go far, but the ground is definitely constructed.”

  “How can you tell?” Flyn asked.

  “A dwarf knows stonework when she sees it, and that cave is definitely stonework. It looks like a natural cave, but that’s no work of erosion. It was built. Probably by dwarves, if I had to guess.”

  “No guards?” Harvig asked.

  “Not near the entrance.”

  “So how do the rest of us get down?” Randell asked. “We can’t do that fancy rope thing you did.”

  “Sure you can, lad. There’s nothing to it. I’ll show you. Who wants to go first?”

  Randell and Harvig didn’t answer.

  “I’ll go,” Flyn said. “It looked like fun.”

  Sigrid chuckled. “Just be careful. It’s a long drop if you mess up. And be glad you’re wearing leather armor and gloves. This really hurts without it.”

  She threw the ends of the rope over the cliff again, then showed Flyn ho
w to wrap the rope around his back and legs to create a makeshift harness.

  “Now hold the two ropes together and we’ll wrap ’em around your arm.” She wrapped them once around his forearm and put the ropes in his hand.

  “Now just lean back to keep tension on the ropes.”

  Flyn did as she told him, surprised that he didn’t fall back.

  “Now just let the rope slide through your hand a little bit and start walking backward to the edge.” She showed him how to move his arm to control how fast the rope slid through his hand.

  At the edge of the cliff, Flyn leaned back on the ropes and looked down. His head swam and his stomach tingled. The ledge below looked to be thousands of feet away. Beyond the ledge, the cliff seemed to fall forever.

  He looked back up at Sigrid. She must have figured out what he was feeling by the look on his face.

  “You’re doing just fine, laddie. Just take a few deep breaths and don’t look down. The first few steps are the hardest.”

  Flyn closed his eyes. The wind blew across his face, cool from the sweat on his skin. Far below him a bird called out. He forced himself to relax. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Sigrid was still in front of him, holding the ropes to keep him steady. Behind her, Randell and Harvig watched with wide eyes.

  “One step at a time, laddie. One foot, then the other foot, then let a little bit of rope slide through your hand. Make sure you’re leaning back or your feet will slip and you’ll be dangling by your armpits.”

  Flyn moved one foot from the top of the cliff to the side. Then the other. Slowly he relaxed his grip on the rope. He felt it slide through his fingers and around his arms and legs and chest. He clamped down on the rope and the sliding stopped.

  “Just like that and you’ll be at the bottom before you know it.”

  He took another step and let a little more rope slip through his fingers. He was now hanging completely over the side of the cliff. There was no going back. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath before continuing. Left foot. Right foot.

  His foot slipped and he fell. A scream began to erupt from his mouth, but before it could escape, he slammed against the cliff, knocking the wind out of him. He instinctively tightened his grip on the rope. His heart raced and his breath came in ragged gasps. The rough rock of the cliff poked his face.

  “Flyn!” Randell yelled from above him.

  “Just relax a minute, lad,” Sigrid said. “Then get your feet back on the cliff. You’ll be fine.”

  Flyn did as she instructed. The rope bit into his arms in spite of the armor, so he didn’t wait too long to work his feet back onto the cliff. Once his feet were back on the cliff and he was once again leaning back in his harness, he paused to catch his breath. To his amazement, he was only about a foot lower than he had been when he lost his footing.

  “I told you you’d be all right,” Sigrid grinned at him. “Just take your time.”

  He took another step, this time making sure he was secure before moving his other foot. Slowly he worked his way down the cliff. He slipped two more times, but both times he was able to catch himself before he fell.

  Ten minutes or ten hours later, he wasn’t sure, he reached the bottom. Sigrid waved to him from the top of the cliff. Exhausted, he unwrapped the ropes and collapsed on the ground.

  Harvig came next, followed by Randell, who took ten minutes to just make his first step over the cliff. Both slipped several times, but eventually they were all together on the ledge. Sigrid came last, walking down the cliff like she was taking an afternoon stroll through the park.

  “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Sigrid said once she reached the ledge with the others.

  No one answered. Flyn was just glad it was over.

  “If we leave the rope here, we can use it to climb back up when we come out,” Sigrid said.

  “It would also tell anyone who came along where we went,” Harvig said. “We’ll have enough problems with what we find inside. I don’t want any extra surprises sneaking up behind us.”

  “That means the only way off this ledge is down,” Sigrid said. She walked over to the edge and looked over the cliff. “At least we have enough rope.”

  “Gunnulf said that was the only way to go,” Randell said.

  “That slimy snake doesn’t know the first thing about mountaineering,” Sigrid said.

  “I think it would be a bad idea to leave the rope hanging,” Flyn said.

  “Suit yourself,” Sigrid said. She grabbed one side of the rope. “Last chance.”

  “Do it,” Flyn said.

  Sigrid pulled the rope down.

  “No choice now.” Sigrid coiled up the rope and stowed it in her pack.

  “Just show us this cave,” Harvig said.

  Sigrid walked past the group and into the trees. They followed her to the back of the ledge.

  In the cliff wall was an opening, eight feet tall and four across. A few feet from the opening, the light faded into darkness.

  “I don’t suppose you have a lantern in that pack of yours,” Harvig asked Sigrid.

  “No.” Sigrid sighed. “I had one in the gear that witless weasel took. But I do have the oil for it in my pack. Chop a couple of limbs off one of these trees and we can make torches. I’ll need a couple of strips of cloth.”

  While Sigrid went to work cutting a branch off one of the trees, Flyn pulled a spare shirt from his pack and ripped off the sleeves. In a few minutes, they were standing in front of the cave again with two torches, Sigrid with one and Harvig with the other.

  “I hope this it,” Randell said. “We’ve put in a lot of effort if it’s not.”

  “This has to be it,” Flyn said.

  “Only one way to find out,” Sigrid said and stepped through the opening.

  The walls and ceiling of the cave seemed like any other cave to Flyn. Not that he had been in many caves. In fact, he had only been in one cave in his life and that one had ogres living in it. But this cave seemed no different to him. The floor of the cave seemed normal too.

  “How do you know this cave isn’t natural?” Flyn asked Sigrid. His question echoed into the dark.

  “Keep your voice down,” Sigrid said in a loud whisper. “If there are guards down here, we don’t want to let them know we’re coming.”

  “Sorry,” Flyn whispered back. “I’m new to this cave thing.”

  Sigrid chuckled softly. “As to your question, first look at the floor. See how smooth it is? In a natural cave, the floor is uneven and littered with rocks of all sizes. You may find areas that are flat and smooth, but they aren’t very big. Maybe a few feet across. A dozen or so at the most. But even those aren’t generally smooth from wall to wall.”

  Flyn looked at the floor. Now that she had mentioned, he could see it. The floor was completely smooth and seemingly level from side to side, though it was gently sloping down. A few cracks here and there were the only noticeable imperfections.

  “Now look at how the floor meets the walls.”

  Flyn looked. The floor curved up into the walls where it transitioned from smooth to rocky. Water dripping from the roof ran off to the sides of the cave where it collected in almost imperceptible troughs that carried it down into the depths of the mountain. The more he looked, the less natural it seemed.

  “And see where the water is dripping from the roof of the cave? Stalactites are starting to form, but the biggest ones are only a few inches long. That means they’re only a thousand years old or so.”

  “So?” Harvig asked.

  “Well, that means the cave itself is only that old. Geologically speaking, this cave is a newborn. But it’s too smooth to be that young. It should have a lot of rough edges where different bits eroded at different rates.”

  Sigrid stopped to examine a section of the wall.

  “Still, they did a pretty good job,” she said as she continued down the tunnel. “You certainly wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t pointed it out to you.”

  Flyn nodd
ed, wondering how much work it must have been to build the tunnel. He tried to imagine teams of dwarves, toiling day and night to dig through solid rock, then taking the time to carve the walls and ceiling to look like a natural cave to the untrained eye, even centuries later. He still couldn’t fathom why someone would go to all that effort.

  The one thing Flyn did notice without Sigrid’s help was how straight the tunnel was. Although the walls weren’t straight, giving the illusion of bends in the tunnel, they had been walking in a straight line since entering the cave.

  The floor was mostly dry, in spite of the water dripping from the roof. A fine dust covered the dry spots, marking their passage and leaving no doubt that someone had been there. The sound of their feet scuffing along the floor created strange echoes that sounded like someone was following them in the dark, just outside the reach of their torchlight.

  Behind them, the light from the opening to the cave had disappeared. Beyond the orange glow of their torches, only darkness. Shadows danced and jumped on the walls and roof of the cave, adding to their disorientation.

  Flyn tried to keep track of how long they had been in the tunnel by counting their steps, but soon lost count. With no outside reference, he couldn’t be sure if they had walked ten minutes or an hour and ten minutes. The descending tunnel seemed not to change, other than an occasional rock that had fallen from the roof.

  The damp air grew colder as they went.

  After a time, the tunnel leveled off. Sigrid stopped and whispered to the others.

  “I would guess that this tunnel will meet up with the dungeons under the citadel before long. Stay as quiet as you can to avoid alerting any guards.”