Revelation (28 page)

Braden looked upon his fallen kinsman. “I would guess that this guard saved my life. He most probably fell defending all the prisoners in the holding cells, giving us the time we needed to flee from this place.”

“He did not know it,” Mari said, “but he might have died to protect the first steps to bringing about the restoration.”

“What do you mean?” Braden asked.

“Without you leading us here, there would be no one trying to regain the Book of Aleth,” Mari explained.

“I never thought of that,” Braden said. “It makes me wonder how many there are who never know that they’re heroes.”

“A real hero may never know,” Mari added.

“Let’s find the exit out of this room,” Aaron interrupted. “Take these candles and hold them for later.” He handed them to Braden.

The door leading out of the guardroom stood directly opposite the gate they had crashed through so Braden took the lead again and the three others followed. This time the hall proved wide enough so that they could walk two abreast with ease, and the ceiling no longer threatened Aaron’s forehead. With the illumine stone in one hand and his axe in the other, the dwarf led his companions into the heart of the ancient city of the dwarves.

Though excavated in centuries past, the passage showed no signs of decay. Exquisitely carved pictures of ancient times decorated the walls, depicting scenes of bygone days and a peaceful era. One picture in particular caught Aaron’s attention. It was a relief of several tall men walking amongst the dwarves. One man carried a book and seemed to be sharing information with a small gathering of what Aaron thought could be dwarf leaders. He stopped at the image and examined it closely. The carving was done with exquisite design and detail. The rock itself carried the colors, making the picture appear painted with a master’s touch. Aaron was amazed at how well preserved the illustration remained and mentioned it to Braden.

“Yes, indeed Captain,” said Braden. “My people were master craftsmen, and during the days of the King our skill was at its height.” He motioned toward the depiction on the wall. “This picture illustrates the time when the King met my ancestors and taught the dwarves the ways of his kingdom. He imparted to the great chieftains the wisdom and skill that became the hallmark of the dwarf realm.” Braden looked long and hard at the image. “I can remember seeing other artwork like this as a boy. I longed to be in those days, living during the great awakening of the dwarves.”

“I can understand why,” Lorik said. “It seems those days were full of grand experiences.”

“Oh, they were!” Braden said with excitement. “I was taught that the early days of the dwarves were filled with great learning and rich in adventure. Most of the mountains were still new to my people and they delved into them with an enthusiasm unsurpassed by any age. Now, in Brekken Dahl, most dwarves dwell in stone houses and live in cities, glorious to be sure, but nothing like the days when our kinsmen lived in the mountains.”

Aaron listened with intense fascination as Braden expounded about the ancient past. But restlessness had gripped him and he wanted to keep going. Something, some intuition, urged him with great need to recover the book. He wasn’t sure what, but something wasn’t right. “Braden,” he asked, “what is the swiftest way through this ancient city to the great hall?”

“The way we are going, Captain,” Braden replied.

“I feel quite certain that we must make haste, and the faster we can recover the book the better.” Aaron’s agitation and his anxiousness urged him on.

“Then let’s go,” Braden said and took off again down the wide passage. For several hours they walked without diverting to the right or the left, though many paths led away from the main tunnel. With each step Aaron grew increasingly hurried.

“I can see that you’re anxious, but I assure you that we are taking the fastest route.” Braden tried to encourage the captain. “We could run the entire length of the journey, but it would still take time.”

“I know,” Aaron replied. “I am convinced, however, that something’s amiss and that the Book of Aleth is in danger of being lost again.”

“Be that as it may,” the dwarf retorted, “we can do nothing but press on. You must trust that I know my own city and can lead us along the fastest road.”

Aaron nodded, knowing that he could do nothing but try and stave off his own anxiety.

Lorik carried the pack and fumbled through it as they walked, distributing some food to each of the party. They didn’t stop for a rest, and the passage maintained a steady descent deeper into the mountain. However, for the distance they traveled, no other creature appeared. Occasionally they would stumble on the remains of some long-fallen dwarf, usually charred, evidence of the deladrin’s fiery form and their presence. No other occupants seemed to exist.

Finally, Lorik spoke up. “Captain,” he said, “I don’t like this!”

Aaron stopped, tired from the forced march and needing a rest. “Don’t like what, Sergeant?”

“We’ve been led to believe that mighty creatures occupied these halls. We saw one of the daemons fly overhead not two days ago, heading for these mountains. Where are they?” Lorik was clearly concerned to the point of being alarmed.

“I don’t know, but I am not about to try and find them. If they’ve abandoned these halls and left the Book of Aleth behind, so much the better,” Aaron replied with more agitation than he wanted to display. However, he also felt an unrelenting apprehension concerning the book and knew that he must reach it before it was too late.

After a short rest, they continued their march through the corridor. For hours they traveled. Agitation and anxiety gave way to exhaustion when suddenly they happened upon a large, vacant room. Their path and the hallway they traveled emptied directly into it. Cautiously, the four companions entered, with Braden at the lead holding aloft the glowing orb.

Far larger than any of the rooms they had previously passed, it boasted huge columns of marble that reached into the darkness above them, well beyond the reach of their dim light. In the center of the room stood a massive round dais, raised several feet into the air. Atop the platform, posed as if on review, were statues of various designs: dwarves, elves, and men. Each figure stood with weapons drawn and ready for combat. Beautiful jewels and crowns adorned the warrior sculptures, with one central figure standing superior to the others. The statue was of a tall man who stood with his sword held aloft in victory. He wore an untarnished crown of gold, gleaming despite the centuries that passed without someone to tend it. His eyes were inlaid with blue and onyx, giving it an almost life-like quality. Aaron did a double-take, amazed at the uncanny resemblance the statue bore to himself.

“Sir,” Lorik said, “this is… well, this is you!’

Aaron tried, but could not deny the surprising resemblance of the figure, even to the color of his eyes. “Braden,” he asked, “what is this place?”

“This is the Hall of Artisans. There are several located throughout Kellen Dahl,” Braden said.

“Kellen Dahl?” Aaron questioned.

“That is the name of this dwarf city,” Braden responded. “As for the room, the great artists would bring their works and display them so that all of the city, no matter who they were, could simply walk through the main corridors and enjoy these works of art.”

Aaron retrieved the candles from Braden and, after lighting them, handed one to Mari and to Lorik so they could look around the room. The light from the candles reflected off the collection of gold and silver objects, making the walls come alive with a wealth of dancing spectrums. Canvas paintings, with colors so brilliant that it made Lorik gasp, were mounted in proud display all about the room. Several carvings and graphic designs sat upon tripods and various ornamental weapons hung on the massive marble pillars. The room itself expressed the artisan’s touch as the swirling patterns in the stone moved in the flickering light like a mystic stream in a forest of marble columns.

“What I don’t understand,” Lorik said, “is how these pieces remain untouched by time.” He gazed about the room, amazed at the unwavering beauty of each work of art. “And,” he continued, “why have the deladrin left this room alone?”

“It is the ancient power of the dwarves,” Mari offered. “The skill of the ancient artisans to preserve the beauty of their work was a gift of rare ability.”

Braden stood nearby and heard Mari’s comment. “You’re right,” he said. “The artisans of the Elder Days possessed skills unsurpassed. They, perhaps more than any other, expressed the heart and soul of the dwarf realm.” Braden looked upon the works of art, “It’s a shame, really,” he said to himself, “we have lost much of what we once were.”

“Perhaps you will find it again,” Mari commented.

Aaron watched his small group as they explored the room. “I think we should set camp for the night.” He moved to a corner of the chamber, away from the main entrance to the hall, and set himself down to rest.

The others joined him, grateful for a chance to relax and regain their strength. Lorik removed the pack from his shoulders and brought out some of the food items, distributing the supplies to each one. Braden still, with the illumine stone in his hand, moved slowly through the room looking at all the works that decorated the pillared hall.

“What time do you suppose it is?” Aaron called to Braden.

“I suspect that we are nearing midnight,” Braden said as he joined with the others and sat down.

“How much farther till we reach the central hall?” Mari asked.

“We should be there before noon tomorrow. There are several levels that we have to navigate beyond this point, but, if you haven’t noticed, we’ve been steadily descending into the mountain,” Braden explained. “Beyond here there will be a series of stairs and tunnels. We should cross the Chasm Bridge, which spans a massive crack in the midst of the mountain. It separates the city’s upper and lower levels.”

Satisfied with that, Aaron divided up the watch for the night. With Braden taking the first, the others fell fast asleep.

****

Aaron had taken the last watch and wanted to be off again after a quick repose. Somewhere far in the distance, sounds of shouting and battle seemed to echo and he could not dismiss the noise as merely his imagination. Moving to the doorway that led deeper into the realm of Kellen Dahl, Aaron listened intently, but only the sounds of his sleeping companions disturbed the stillness of the ancient hall. Still, a great need for expedience persisted in his thoughts.

After another hour, listening and watching, Aaron woke his companions and provided them a meager breakfast. With only the light of the illumine stone to use, they ate their meal in relative obscurity. Once finished, Braden again led them through the dark halls and passages that wound through the mountain, closer and closer to the final goal. They passed along several corridors with various décor, but Aaron no longer found room in his thoughts for anything except the need to press on. The urgency that gripped him would have caused him to run through the maze of passages had he known the layout of where he was.

“If we encounter resistance,” Lorik surmised, “I would guess that we will find it at this Chasm Bridge. It sounds like the perfect place for an ambush.”

“You’re right,” Braden remarked. “It’s designed so that if needed, the bridge could be collapsed, preventing any invading force from passing into the second level. The dwarves could retreat either to the upper or lower levels, collapse the bridge and leave the invaders on the other side.”

“How soon before we arrive at this bridge?” Mari asked.

“Soon,” Braden said, his voice subdued to a harsh whisper as he stopped dead in his tracks. “Captain!” Braden whispered. “Captain, come see this.”

Aaron walked up to where Braden stood and there before him, lying face down upon the granite path, the fallen body of a deladrin. From its skin rose wisps of smoke as if the creature had been incinerated, and recently. Around the daemon lay several dozen gremellaks, their twisted bodies mauled and shredded. Just ahead, at the very edge of the circle of light cast by the stone, they could see the shape of a large, stone bridge spanning a great gaping maw of a chasm.

With weapons drawn, the four companions walked cautiously toward the bridge. Aaron’s sword glowed intensely, radiating with power and filling the surrounding passage with its green halo. At the base of the causeway, another deladrin was sprawled out on the ground, its massive body charred and smoldering.

“This happened recently.” Lorik said.

“I know,” Aaron replied in a hoarse whisper. “Keep your eyes and ears open for anything.” He turned to Braden. “You can see better than any of us in this dim light, can you discern anything on or across the bridge?” Aaron’s thoughts raced with the memory of what he heard, quite certain that he had listened to the sound of battle in the early morning hours of his watch.

“Nothing,” Braden said, “there is nothing between us and the other side of the bridge.”

“Let’s cross, then,” Aaron commanded. “Braden, I’ll lead the way.” Aaron held up his sword, its green light burning brightly. “Lorik, I want you and Mari next and Braden behind.” Far below, in the giant fissure they could see a dim glow as of a fire, at a fathom that no one could guess. A strange, warm air rose from the massive crack in the earth with the strong scent of sulfur. From the depths of the fissure, the companions could hear what sounded like the echoed rumblings of a mighty river.

Braden, walking behind Lorik, whispered, “There are those who call this chasm
hell’s gate
.”

“I can see why.” exclaimed Lorik. “How far down is it? And what is that glow we see?”

“It is a river of molten rock, and the depth has never been measured. There are times that the river is higher than others, and the heat becomes intense, but usually it remains like it is now.” Braden spoke carefully, trying to keep from alerting anything that might be around.

They arrived at the other side of the bridge to see another fallen body of a daemon. This time, however, the creature was decapitated, and its head was missing. Around the fallen form the tattered bodies of more gremellaks lay strewn about, their carcasses silent and cold. Aaron went to examine the deladrin, hoping to find some clue as to what manner of monster could destroy such a powerful creature.