by Helen Gosney
“Do you really think this is the right way?” Rose asked as they rested after they’d managed to get past this narrow part. Rowan’s limp had become noticeably worse on the uneven footing, and he’d been grateful for the troll’s assistance at the rougher bits. At least his headache had improved.
“I don’t know,” Rowan shrugged stiffly, “All I know is ‘tis either this... or we go down the stairs in the shaft and start looking again; and we’ve already seen that the outside stairway goes nowhere. But I think we might have found the ‘rough darkness’ the song mentioned...”
“Well, this bit is certainly rough enough and dark enough for anyone. Why do you suppose they didn’t make a proper tunnel like the first one, the lazy sods?” Cris said.
“Maybe they just got fed up with the whole business of digging holes and tunnels and making stairs, and they took their marbles and went home… or maybe they thought it might make us do that,” Rowan replied thoughtfully.
“Ha! Maybe they did too. But now we’ve got this far, I think we should at least try to get to the end of this if we can, and see what’s there, don’t you? Wasn’t there something about ‘stars’? Surely that must mean it comes out somewhere…?” Cris said encouragingly.
Moss nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
“I suppose so...” Rose said doubtfully.
They continued on for a little longer. Moss suddenly stopped and stood very still. A big smile spread slowly across his face.
“My friends!” he said quietly, “I can smell fresh air... and trees... and flowers...’
As they went cautiously around the next turn in the tunnel they saw the bright dazzle of sunlight ahead of them, framed by a heavy stone archway.
“Carefully, now...” Rowan warned softly.
He and Cris peered warily around the edge of the archway. It opened into a small square windowless building, with a mosaic floor patterned with a complex swirl of stars and a single narrow doorway through which bright sunlight was flooding. The little building was completely empty, except for the enormous black furry creature sleeping peacefully in the sun.
**********
35. “I’m not going to kill it. Why would I want to?”
“How are we going to get past that... that thing?” Cris whispered nervously. Dazzled by the sunlight after having been in the dark with only the glowbaskets’ soft light for so long he couldn’t even see what it was. All he knew was that it was very large and very black and it was snoring slightly.
“What is it?” Rose wondered, “It looks almost like a... like a...”
Her voice trailed away as the creature rolled over in the sunlight and stretched itself luxuriously, showing its impressive physique. It was an enormous cat of some sort, jet black, with a heavy mane and a long tufted tail, with huge paws and long whiskers, and wicked fangs that gleamed as it yawned lazily.
Suddenly its great head came up, and in an instant it was on its feet, staring at them with glowing amber eyes. Its long tail twitched a little, but otherwise it was very still. As the others stared at it in shock Rowan rummaged quickly through one of the packs, then stepped through the doorway and limped forward a few steps.
“Rowan... come back... you can’t kill that thing as you are!” Rose said in an anguished whisper. Moss and Cris quickly grabbed her arms in case she thought to follow him.
“I know that, Rose...” he replied calmly, “But I’m not going to kill it. Why would I want to?”
“What... Rowan! What the hell do you think you’re doing!” It came out as an almost agonized wail. She struggled against the restraint of the others, then stood stiffly between them, trying desperately not to scream as her fool brother walked serenely to certain death.
“Rowan, thou must be very careful... it is a cave lion. They are very swift, and they are unpredictable,” Moss called softly.
Cris said nothing. He was terrified, but fascinated as he watched Rowan edge closer to the great cat. He could hear Rowan’s soft lilting voice speaking to the creature, crooning almost, but he couldn’t make out the words. He didn’t realise Rowan had instinctively spoken in his native Siannen.
The cave lion growled deep in its throat. Rowan stopped and carefully placed something on the ground, his eyes never leaving those of the cave lion.
“There you are, my beautiful one. I thought you might understand Siannen, ‘tis much the best tongue for talking with cats. Now, try this... I’m sure it will taste much better than I would, I truly think I’d be a bit tough,” Rowan murmured, stepping back a pace.
The lion’s black nose twitched and its long black whiskers quivered. It stared at Rowan for a few moments longer, then it snarled and stretched forth a massive paw, claws extended.
Rowan was pale, but he stood his ground as the terrible claws sank into the big piece of cheese he’d put down. The cave lion drew it back towards itself, sniffed at it, sniffed again, and then licked at its paw experimentally. In a moment the cheese was gone. The lion licked its whiskers with its long pink tongue, and gazed at Rowan. Its head was almost on a level with his chest and if it stood on its back paws it would probably be taller than Moss.
“A bit more...? There you are...”
Again the cheese vanished.
“Umm... can someone bring me a bit more cheese?” Rowan said, as the lion ate three more chunks and looked around for more, “Just walk out very slowly, and don’t turn your back on the cat. And whatever you do, stay behind me.”
Moss was holding Rose very firmly. Before he thought about it, Cris grabbed the pack of food and stepped out through the doorway. He began to shake so much that he thought he’d fall, but somehow he managed to walk out to where Rowan stood. The cave lion was magnificent and fascinating and absolutely terrifying at such close quarters.
“Thanks, Cris... well done,” then Rowan carefully placed the cheese on his palm and extended it to the lion.
The creature sniffed at cheese and hand very thoroughly indeed. It looked up at Rowan again for a long moment, undecided, and then it bent its head and delicately took the cheese off his palm. It had taken several more pieces in this way when Rowan first stroked its fur.
The cave lion stiffened and Cris thought that his last moment had surely come. He closed his eyes tightly. He heard nothing for a few seconds, and then there was a deep rumbling sound. Suddenly he heard Rowan’s soft voice again.
“There... you see, my handsome Puss... I won’t hurt you... and neither will any of us. We just need to get past you, ‘tis all. I’m sorry we woke you up. Now, you have a little bit more of this... while I just...”
When he opened his eyes again, Cris saw that the cave lion was standing very close to Rowan, and it was purring like a gigantic house cat as Rowan gently stroked its black silken fur and caressed its velvet ears.
“Rowan...” Cris said weakly. He was afraid he was about to faint, whether from relief or terror he wasn’t sure, but it wouldn’t matter. The result would be the same.
“’Tis all right, Cris, you’ve done a good job there....” Rowan replied in a low voice, “I think… I think he’ll let us go past now, but go very carefully and don’t run, for the Gods’ sakes. Perhaps if you could give me a bit more cheese or something... Then go outside and wait for me, away from here, and don’t turn your back on him.”
“When thou hast gone, Cris, we will follow thee,” Moss called quietly.
Cris disappeared through the outer door as quickly as he dared, and then Rose and Moss walked gingerly through the chamber. Poor Rose was nearly in tears, but she made it through and Cris grabbed her hand and pulled her away. The three friends waited anxiously in a small group of trees about a hundred paces from the building. Rose had flatly refused to go any further.
After several minutes that seemed an eternity, Rowan and the cave lion appeared in the doorway. He ruffled its mane familiarly, and it licked his hand with its big rough tongue; then the lion sat washing its face with its paw and blinking in the sunshine as Rowan limped awa
y.
“Don’t you ever do that again!” Rose said fiercely, as she hugged Rowan. Then she burst into tears.
“Rose... it was the only way...” Rowan said as he tried to comfort her, “It would have killed us all if we’d tried to run... or to fight it. And we couldn’t lose it in that narrow tunnel…”
“Truly... even trolls do not hunt cave lions...” Moss said thoughtfully. I was right, Rowan, he thought. Thou art truly a Beast Master.
As Rose became calmer, they began to look around. They were high on the walls of a deep, wide crater. Above them was the little stone building where the cave lion still sat in the sun, and above that again was a near-vertical cliff topped with great icy slabs of rock. They were in a small group of trees that formed the start of a little wood, and below that were wide terraces filled with bushes and flowering shrubs. The terraces swept down to the shores of a deep blue lake in the bottom of the crater.
Here and there around the lake and in the trees they could see the roofs of buildings. In the centre of the lake, connected to the land by a graceful arch of stone, was a small island crowned with a mist-shrouded grove of trees.
**********
“Where do you think we should start? Somewhere nice and close, I hope?” Cris asked. He was feeling much better now he’d been away from the cave lion’s terrifying presence for a while; he was ready to look around a little bit before they stopped for the night.
“Aye... somewhere close...” Rowan replied rather vaguely.
“Rowan? That doesn’t sound like you. ‘Somewhere close’ indeed! Surely you meant to say we should start searching the third building on the right...?” Rose teased him.
“Hmm...? Oh, sorry, I was just... umm...”
“Looking at the island, wast thee not?” Moss said helpfully.
“Aye... I was. There’s something odd... but no matter...” Rowan said, pulling his attention back from wherever it had wandered, “Why do you want to start in the third building on the right, Rose? What’s wrong with that nice close one, there?”
The others laughed in delight at his puzzled face; after a moment of complete bafflement, he grinned sheepishly and joined them.
They approached the structure cautiously, although there were no signs of habitation. It was a circular building, made of a greenish-grey stone that was beautifully marked with veins of clear light green. There was a row of plain columns around the outside, with an inner circular wall pierced by eight tall doorways, and the whole was topped by a lovely dome. It was completely empty.
They decided they’d done enough for that day. Rowan was starting to struggle with his knee and they were all tired from the long climb up the Stairway the previous day. And now they’d had time to think about it, the incident with the cave lion had left them all - except Rowan, of course - feeling wrung out and exhausted. They found a sheltered spot for a campsite and set about making themselves comfortable for the night. No-one wanted to move into a building while the weather stayed fine. It was surprisingly warm within the crater, and they’d all developed a fondness for sleeping under the stars when possible.
**********
“Is this really Plausant Bron, do you think?” Rose wondered lazily, as she watched Rowan trimming the long piece of oak that he was using as a staff. He twirled the wood idly and tossed it from hand to hand. Yes, the balance was almost right. He trimmed it a little more.
“Aye... I think so. It all fits too well to be anything else, and we even found the ‘stars’, I think, in that mosaic at the end of the tunnel where the cave lion was... but...” Rowan stopped and looked around him. No, something wasn’t right, he thought.
“...But it’s deserted and it looks sort of... neglected...” Cris finished for him.
“Aye.” That was it. He hadn’t been expecting a welcoming committee, but still…
Moss came back from where he’d been inspecting the stonework of a terrace.
“Thou art right...” he said slowly, “No-one has done anything to these terraces for a very long time... many of them are crumbling. One has collapsed entirely over there...” he pointed to an area where the others hadn’t yet been, “And the trees and bushes...” he shook his head slowly, as if puzzled.
“They don’t look natural...” Cris said, “Well, no, not that exactly; but they look like they’ve been planted... if you know what I mean.”
“Aye, they do, at that; but I think they’ve been left to their own devices for a long time, too,” Rowan said thoughtfully, looking up at the oddly regimented tharlen trees above him. And he was supposed to be a forester, he thought wryly.
“Yes... and the buildings... they are deserted as thou hast said, but... I think they have always been empty...” Moss said, frowning ferociously as he tried to explain himself clearly, “There are signs of neglect, to be sure. Some of the stones are crumbling, and some have fallen, and there is a badly cracked dome down there... but even so, I think they have never been... well... used for any purpose.”
Rose looked up at him. “What does it mean, do you think?” she said.
“I don’t know,” the troll admitted, “Maybe we will have an answer when we look through some of the other buildings tomorrow.”
They slept well that night, though they heard the coughing roar of the cave lion a couple of times at about the time the smaller moon rose. Rowan woke sometime after midnight and lay quietly watching the stars for a while, thinking. He smiled to himself as a slight breeze whispered through the night and a huge white owl ghosted overhead, intent on its own business and then he raised his head to find a pair of glowing amber eyes watching him from a nearby bush.
“Hello, beautiful one, there you are… I wondered if I might see you again,” he murmured. “I don’t think anyone will mind if I give you this now…”
Being careful not to wake the others, he tossed one of the rabbits they’d planned to have for breakfast to the great cat, and was rewarded with a rumbling purr as “Puss” daintily ate his unexpected gift then disappeared as silently as he’d come.
**********
36. “I’ve never seen a dog like that…”
They searched the remaining buildings over the next few days. There were quite a few scattered here and there around the crater and each was different from the last - one was a long dark basalt structure, flat-roofed and brooding atop its plinth of twenty-nine shallow steps; another was built on several different levels, made of light brown stone, with many octagonal windows and much ornamentation; a third was little more than a series of fluted white columns, connected by graceful arches to form a long rectangle. All were as empty as the first, and they all had the same air of neglect about them, but none of them showed any sign that it had ever been used for anything at all.
They made a more permanent camp a little above the shore of the lake. They were perhaps two hundred paces from the bridge that led to the island. It was a beautiful bridge, made of pale, fine-grained golden stone, and it had a single high, graceful arch spanning the water and a guardian statue at its end. There seemed to be a patch of fine mist at the centre of the arch.
Of course, Moss was the first to look at it all closely. He spent quite a while there, looking under the arch and running his hands over the fine carving of the railings and endposts and statue, but he didn’t step onto the bridge himself and he wouldn’t allow the others to do so either.
“I do not think it is safe,” he said, looking very perplexed indeed, “There is something about this bridge that I do not like... please, my friends, do not try to cross it, do not even step onto it...”
Cris and the twins didn’t argue with him - after all, a Bridge troll knows all there is to know about bridges – but still they crowded around to have a closer look for themselves. Rowan turned away after a moment and stood on the shore looking across at the misty island.
Cris was surprised and intrigued to see that this bridge had a guardian statue at its end, as Moss’s Bridge had had too: bridges in Gnash certainly didn�
�t have these. They didn’t seem to have Bridge trolls either. Presumably they looked after themselves, he supposed. But this one… it was a very lifelike sculpture of an enormous dog that seemed taller than he was, a terrifying creature standing there with hackles raised, huge jaws agape in a silent snarl, its teeth longer than his fingers.
“Bloody Hells,” he said uncertainly, “What is this damned thing? I’ve never seen a dog like that…”
Moss and Rose smiled at him.
“No, Cris, it is not a dog. It is a wolf of some kind, I think. A very big wolf… Thou dost not see them in the cities,” Moss tried not to laugh at his friend’s discomposure.
“A… a wolf? What’s it doing here? Rowan, come and look at this thing!”
Rowan turned back to them, his reverie broken. His eyes widened as he took in the carving that dwarfed Cris and a long ago conversation came back to him.
“‘Tis said that Rasa the direwolf guards the Gods. Or, er, the way to the Gods, or something like that,” the g’Hakken Crann had laughed at him as they’d returned from a hunt. It was just after he, Rowan, had won his first Trophy. He’d been staying with the g’Hakken while they crafted his sabre and on this particular day he’d saved a little dwarf lass from certain death in the jaws of a worral, “’Tis said to be bigger and fiercer than any wolf you’ve ever seen, but she’d be a poor bloody toothless old thing by now, I’d have thought. The tale’s been around since Beldar was a boy.”
“I wonder if this could be, er… Rafa? No… no, Rasa, I think Crann said it was called… Bloody Hells! ‘Tis so damned long ago! But I wonder if this is the direwolf that’s supposed to guard the Gods?” Rowan said slowly.
