by Jon Kiln
The Captain strode forward, lighting more and more of the stone column up until he reached the empty square top. They all stared for a moment. There was no dust to even indicate what might have sat there in the past.
He looked about the chamber seeing scrapes on the chamber floor and walls. They looked fresh compared to the rest of the stone, but the Captain couldn’t tell for sure. What could have been moved? How big was the piece of the Great Artifact, if it existed?
Motion drew his eye to the walls. Water was seeping down from holes in the walls and something glistened inside. Berengar took a step toward it thinking he saw dark jewels.
Nisero held his torch up. “There, sir. On the wall.”
Berengar looked at the Lieutenant and realized he was looking to the wall behind the pedestal. Berengar held up his torch in that direction. “Yes, I see it.”
Berengar stared down at the empty pedestal and then back up at the black text on the wall. Another person that hated him had found a spot for one more curse.
“I do not believe this script requires translation,” Nisero breathed in annoyance.
“No, it does not,” Berengar conceded.
In standard language, the writing declared:
I dearly hope it is you, Captain Berengar. I see many paths, but one of them is always you. You find this chamber empty because I have this piece of the Great Artifact and with it all our futures. Your master and better, Lord Caffrey.
“Is this the emergency you need me to go up and warn the others about?” Belsh asked.
Berengar chewed at the inside of his mouth. “Go tell the others to make preparation to break camp. Tell all the scholars to gather. We need to know where we go next for the likely spot of the next fragment.”
Belsh turned, but paused as Nisero began to speak.
“Is there any chance that Caffrey has not beaten us there first as well?”
Berengar ignored the question. “Go,” he instructed the boy.
Belsh ran out of the chamber and back up the stairs along the rope and chalk arrows, back toward the surface.
The bearded scholar and other Guardsmen of the final team of three stared in the chamber from the passage outside. Berengar, Nisero, and the dark-haired scholar stood together near the empty pedestal.
“We have already begun deciphering the texts and believe we have a promising lead on the second fragment,” the scholar said next to Berengar. “If it is not where we think, we might still have the ability to follow its trail.”
“Yes,” Nisero said. “Straight into the arms of Caffrey.”
“Send two men back to the capital with a sealed message to the King about what we have found here and what it might mean,” Berengar said.
“Very well. Do you want me to include a note about the forgotten smithy and weapons at the base of the waterfall and screw too?”
“We’ll save that for another time. Let them continue to watch the western border for now.”
The three men turned back toward the chamber doorway and the Guardsmen outside stepped back.
Berengar stopped and raised his torch toward the back wall once more. “What does he mean about seeing the future? Is that figurative or does Caffrey believe he has powers of divination?”
The scholar turned and took a step closer to the wall. “There is one legend about the Great Artifact that claims it has power over time and the future for its bearer. He might be claiming he possesses that power with the fragment he retrieved or that he will have it once he has all the pieces.”
Suddenly and without warning, the spear’s shaft snapped and the chamber door slammed closed like metal jaws. The men outside began shouting.
“What’s this now?” Berengar demanded.
He heard something whiz past his ear and he felt the wind of it.
A voice outside shouted from a distance. “Go faster!”
Water rushed in around his feet and staggered the Captain. All sound outside was drowned out. Nisero dropped his torch and it snuffed out in the water.
Berengar stared into the wide eyes of the scholar. A bolt sprung out from the wall where Berengar had thought he saw the sparkle of more jewels. The point planted in the back of the man’s head. Blood splattered Berengar’s cheek. Had the man not been standing where he was, Berengar would have taken the bolt to the face. The scholar’s eyes glazed and all the intelligence drained out of them. He dropped his papers into the water and splashed down face first.
More bolts whizzed around them from the walls.
Berengar and Nisero dropped down into the rising water to avoid being hit, but the torch went out, plunging them into darkness.
Berengar swam desperately in the direction where he thought the door to the chamber lay.
Chapter 7: Expected
Berengar’s face went under and he inhaled through his nose before he could stop himself. He coughed and gagged as his hands found the steps under the water. The roar of the water filling the chamber was the only noise he could hear. He was not sure if the bolts were still crisscrossing in the pitch black above him. He did not know how low the path of the deadly arrows from the trap reached. If Caffrey knew to set them, maybe he had the foresight to aim a few of them down.
Captain Berengar tasted death and filth on the water he had accidentally swallowed. He pictured creatures frozen in death on the terrible lake outside and below the raised castle.
Berengar reached the top of the steps and hit his forehead against the inside of the metal jaws of the chamber door. He extended one hand above his head, feeling for a seam.
A pair of hands clutched his soaked cloak from the side and then released. He heard harsh breathing to his flank from the Lieutenant and fists beating the metal doors. Berengar wanted to calm his friend’s panic, but he had no better solution to offer.
The water level rose to Berengar’s mouth again, but he was afraid to raise his head higher in the darkness. This was the panicked death Caffrey had in mind for Berengar and his companions.
The jaws flashed open, pouring in torch light that seemed incredibly bright in contrast to the near dark. The water rushed out in a wave into the outer chamber. The fast flowing liquid made sucking sounds as it overtook drains along the base of the walls deeper in the passage.
The bearded scholar and the three Guardsmen staggered into the blocks against the walls, shielding themselves from the torrent of water threatening to take out their legs. The scholar dropped his texts which were swept away. Other pages dropped by the fellow with the bowl cut inside the deadly chamber swept past. The old scholar reached for them and was nearly swept away himself before one of the Elite Guard grabbed the man’s shoulder and pushed him back against the wall.
Berengar and Nisero tumbled out past their men with the flow of water until it drained down into the floor, far enough for them to find their footing again to stand against what remained.
Berengar could hear the trickle of water tapering off from inside the chamber as the water level fell in there as well. The torchlight did not penetrate far into the chamber, but he could see the light reflected on the thin lines of water coming down the walls. As far as he could tell, the water was coming through the same openings where the bolts had been set for the trap.
It could have been a trap from the time of Faithcore, but he doubted it very much. Caffrey had time to set his plot into motion.
Berengar moved forward, sloshing through the remains of the flood and stood just outside the chamber. He stared in at the body of the scholar with the bolt embedded in the back of his skull. The academic floated face down on the surface of the dark water. His papers floated around him.
“How did you get the door open again?” Berengar asked.
The bearded scholar spoke up. His voice was high and thready. “I completed the puzzle as we originally intended to do.”
Berengar nodded wearily. “Then I thank you. Did you know our friend here well, sir?”
The scholar’s already high voice broke as he spoke. �
�I’ve studied with him most of his life. There is no way for me to explain to you how terrible his loss is for the knowledge of the world. So many ignorant people go on living across the land, but his vast intelligence is snuffed out senselessly.”
“Every death is a tragedy,” Berengar said. “I’m sorry.”
“I cannot speak for the death of every man,” the scholar replied. “I know this loss is terrible.”
“Men, I want his body retrieved and properly prepared. He fell in service to the King. Use tools to avoid stepping in the line of fire from Lord Caffrey’s trap.”
“We need the papers, too,” the scholar added.
Berengar stared at the man. “Papers?”
“Yes, sir. We need to gather and dry the pages.”
Berengar directed his men to comply. “Gather the papers as well, at the scholar’s instruction. Lieutenant, with me.”
Nisero sloshed through with the Captain. Berengar took one of the torches and made his way around the corner to floor that was damp, but without standing water. The men at the next doorway saluted.
One of them asked, “Sir, are you okay?”
“There was a trap. We lost one of the scholars. I’m sending down men with tools to chisel out the jeweled dragon for the King. You three wait here and then carry it up to the wagons.”
The men saluted again.
Berengar and Nisero continued up through the passage and mounted the stairs for the long climb back to the grand chamber above.
“We need to approach this with a level head, sir.”
“Do I seem unlevel, Lieutenant?”
“I know you don’t take well to losing men, and the conflict with Caffrey is personal.”
“No right thinking person is good with losing men,” Berengar stated. “I’m not new at this, Lieutenant. I understand how to manage forces in conflict.”
“Yes, sir, I know you do.”
“Caffrey is no more personal to me than any other enemy I’ve had to face.”
“As you say, sir,” Nisero relented, but then added, “He singled you out on the wall though. He is targeting you with his attacks.”
Berengar shook his head. “I’m singled out on all the walls in this castle, Nisero. It is personal for those that face me because I am so successful in bringing them and their plans down in defeat. That is the price of victory. If Caffrey is fixated upon me, that is his weakness and not mine.”
“So we are going to try to find the other pieces of the Artifact even after Lord Caffrey’s trap?”
“I don’t see that we have any other option other than to wait on him. Whether this Great Artifact is real or not, Caffrey and the King both seem to think that it is, and that it holds power. Our best chance of finding the man at this point is to continue on the trail that he is following and hope it leads us to him.”
“I suppose we should duck upon entering chambers in the future,” Nisero suggested.
The light from the chamber over them came into view.
“He will probably anticipate as much, Nisero, and then next arrows will be fired low.”
“I’ll let you go first then.”
They reached the lowered platform below the floor level of the grand room and the men reached their arms down to help the leaders up. Berengar extinguished the torch before they were pulled up to the cobbled floor.
Belsh ran back into the room. “Captain, I heard about the trap.”
“I am fine. Did you fulfill the task I sent you to do?”
Belsh opened his mouth and then closed it again. “No, sir, I’m sorry. I will continue now.”
***
After three days, the bearded scholar and the Lieutenant approached the Captain. Berengar was on the grounds of the castle where he sat upon a fallen stone, leaning back on a wall with dark curses scratched above his head.
“I think we have our next destination,” Nisero informed him.
“You know where the next piece is?”
The scholar looked at his notes and showed it to the Captain. “We think we know where it was, long ago. Whether it was moved again or retrieved first by our enemy, I can’t say. This is likely where the man went next looking for it. We are still translating and referencing the texts to understand where the other two fragments might be.”
“This is all we have to go on for now,” Nisero said.
“Then, go we shall.” Berengar stood. “Where are we going after old legends this time, gentlemen?”
The scholar pointed at the map he was holding, tracing his long wrinkled finger along the route. “Southward, sir. We travel down through the Blue Mountains to the Valley of the Tear Drops. There is a temple complex cut into the cliffs on the southernmost wall of the valley, from the time of Faithcore. It is where he and the ancient kings went for spiritual guidance, for visions, and for blessings before great battles. The riddles are complex, but we believe now that the clues point to this place for the hiding spot of one of the quarter fragments. It makes sense logically for the man to hide one piece there knowing the history of King Faithcore.”
“Is it history or legend?” Berengar asked.
“I understand your meaning,” the scholar said, “but given this much time, it is hard to separate the difference without going to see for ourselves.”
“So, there are four pieces and Caffrey has at least one.”
The scholar carefully rolled his notes and placed them within his robes. “We think there are four pieces. It will be easier to tell once we see at least one or two of the pieces.”
“Let’s gather the forces and find a trail southward that still exists.”
Nisero turned to pass the orders.
The scholar began to go, but Berengar put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I’m sorry about your friend. I will see that Caffrey pays for that death along with all the other trouble he has caused.”
“I appreciate what you are trying to do, Captain, but no amount of vengeance settles the loss of life. If you are seeking revenge on my behalf, I excuse you from that commitment.”
Captain Berengar grunted and released the man’s shoulder. “Then take what comfort you can in knowing I’m going to do so anyway.”
The scholar nodded as he walked away.
They followed the stone bridge out from the ruins of Faithcore. They swung farther north before hooking around on a roadway that turned south and weaved through the rocky bases of the mountain beyond the deadly lake.
They passed petrified trees still partially standing. Scouts often returned reporting blocked passes that required the party to detour wide along side trails before coming back toward the center.
After several days of travel, they took to a rise that weaved up the side of the mountain, leading to a wide valley.
When they topped the rise and looked down the curving trail to the lush forest below, it almost seemed too brightly green in contrast to the gray and blue of the mountains. Lakes shaped like tear drops dotted the valley all the way across.
On the far side, they could see a city that seemed to cling to the side of the cliff.
“It appears we have arrived where the gods do their crying.” Berengar lifted his hand across his brow, shielding his eyes from the sun and squinted into the distance. “Does anyone have any idea how far away from the kingdom we are?”
Nisero pulled up rein beside him. “I’ve been checking with the scholars daily. We are about eighty to a hundred miles southwest. That is over mountain peaks, so it might as well be another world.”
“Do we know which kingdom controls this land?”
“They are a scattering of lords without a king,” Nisero told him. “I’m not certain how far their claims extend, nor which, if any, claim this valley. The most current geographic information our sages possess is not very current. As far as we know, none of these lords are behaving like bandits, but we don’t know much.”
“What of the Southern lords?”
“Their influence does not extend this far, if that is what y
ou are asking,” Nisero said, relating the information given to him by the scholars. “With the conflict on the southern border of the kingdom, we don’t know which ones hold malice toward the King and which ones do not. At any rate, their attention does not extend this far even in times of peace, as far as we know.”
“As far as we know,” Berengar repeated. “Which is not much knowledge at all.”
“No, sir,” Nisero agreed.
“Nothing left to do, but to go worship in the footsteps of Faithcore.”
They curved down into the valley approaching the treetops. As they drew closer, they spotted fishing boats out on the lakes along with scattered cottages in amongst the trees.
Belsh moved up beside the Captain. “Do you think those people will be friendly toward us, sir?”
“Hard to say. We pride ourselves in knowing very little on this quest,” Berengar answered. “People who live without a king are not always happy to see the King’s men. I’m hoping that they will just ignore us as we cross over to visit the temple in the air.”
“Temples, plural,” Nisero corrected. “My understanding is that there is more than one.”
“We should be quite blessed by the time we find what we seek then.”
They descended into the trees and weaved between the trunks of the forest, moving south through the valley as best they could. As they came upon lakes that proved to be much larger than they appeared from above, they went around. The journey was long and often required wider detours around marshes that extended out from the water.
Berengar began to think he might have to make camp in the valley before they ever reached the temples on the far end.
They passed a few of the clusters of cottages and fishermen grouped together with their nets upon the lakes. The people were darker skinned than most from the kingdom. Berengar found that odd, as the valley was sunk deep within the mountains. It was still early afternoon and the sun was already threatening to disappear behind the stone high above them.
The Captain wondered if these people had not migrated here at some point from more arid regions where they and their ancestors would have experienced more sun exposure. Berengar supposed this was far nicer and safer than a desert, and he did not know how far the deserts lay beyond the Blue Mountains.
